She grunted as the bandage pulled tight when she fastened it over her knuckles, inwardly cursing herself for her stupidity. Still, it wasn't her right hand, but it still would be inconvenient for a while to be careful with the appendage. Then Eve turned to the damaged mirror and the mess punching it had made, her eyes flicking warily over the handle that had come out in her hand. She took a closer look at the handle and then the holes it had been attached to by metal screws and found that the screw holes had been stripped out. "Huh, no wonder it came off in my hand. How long has it been an accident waiting to happen..." Eve muttered to herself as she added 'go to the hardware store' to her list of things she needed to do before she went and got the broom and a dustpan to clean up the broken glass. She did a pass with a piece of bread to make sure all the little tiny slivers were picked up and then did a final run over everywhere that had glass pieces on it with a big piece of packing tape wrapped around her hand.<br/><br/>Cleaning up glass was a tedious and long process so it took the cranky former cop awhile to put her bathroom to rights, removing the hinges for the door of her medicine cabinet and simply putting the door in the trash can outside for the garbage to collect. Finally, around eleven, Eve managed to clean herself up enough to put on clothing, opting for an old pair of jeans with paint splattered on them and a fitted tank with wide straps. Her cell phone dinged just as she was heading into the kitchen to start the coffee pot brewing, a low-grade caffeine withdrawal headache starting at her temples. She picked up her phone from the counter and pulled the charging cable out as she tapped her passcode into the screen. With a groan, the brunette put her tub of ground coffee back up in the cabinet and trudged toward the back door to stuff her sock-covered feet in her steel-toed boots; she figured if they were going to be sent on another 'trail run' it couldn't hurt to have something with a little umph to kick someone with after yesterday.<br/><br/>Still no answer from her uncle and she had no coffee. It seemed Eve was going to have an extremely bad day today and it was starting and ending with the group she wanted to get in touch with to lay her son and husband's memories to rest. Maybe she should have remained at the precinct, she had been a detective and worked with FBI closely before turning in her badge. With a sigh, she ran a hand over her face as she remembered that the law was what had failed her family. Grumbling, the former cop opened the coat closet by the front door and reached for her jacket before pausing and grabbing a brown leather bomber jacket, and pulled it on. It was bigger than she was, but she drew comfort from the familiar smell in the collar as she grabbed her house keys from the hook by the door, slipping them in her pocket with her wallet, and her cell phone in the opposite one.<br/><br/>It was a short walk from the suburb-like area Eve still lived in to a subway stop. A swipe of her metro card from her wallet and a few transfers and stops later, she came up the stairs on the street where the speakeasy was located. She looked down at the text message with a curled lip, still not able to remember the details of how she got home last night, before opening the door and angling inside. She glanced around the room, finding the patronage for this time of day a little unnerving. Apparently this place did a booming business at any hour, which surprised her, but she slid onto a barstool and knocked on the wood sharply with her good hand for the bartender's attention. "Coffee, shot of Kahlua please." She slid a ten across the counter without asking and indicated that she would expect a refill not too long from now as he brought her the large coffee mug and sat the shot glass of dark brown liquor beside it.<br/><br/>She dumped the shot in her black coffee and lifted the mug to her lips, taking a sip of the scalding liquid after blowing on it to cool it.<i>Breakfast of champions</i>, she thought, turning in her seat to look around the speakeasy with her back to the bar. Eve's eyes stopped on a very Eastern-looking woman, speaking to a man and looking a little uncomfortable. She slapped down the initial instinct to get up and slap cuffs on the sleazebag; not her problem, not her job. She took another slurp from her mug when recognition struck her. That woman had been in the crew yesterday with her, the Irish woman, the Russian man-boy, and the two who had... Bile rose in the back of her throat, forcing her to put down the mug when she got a wavery sort of memory of two of their crew dying. Eve blinked and shook her head a little before hopping up from the barstool and taking her mug with her as she approached the booth.<br/><br/>She plastered on a pleasant smile as she directed her words at the woman in the booth. "Hey, so glad you could make it. Sorry I was running late..." Eve gave the woman's 'guest' a stare of 'who do you think you are' and waited patiently. "Could you move so I can sit with my friend? We arranged to meet here today and you're crashing our<i>date</i>." She layered meaning into her last word and placed her boozy coffee mug on the table as she leaned forward toward him, invading the man's space. Any creep when faced with an obstacle that responded with aggression would normally back off and go away, at least in her experience.