Hearing the bell on the front door of Mom and Pop's, Carson looks out from the kitchen. With Dani off today, Thirteen on break, and Aerith in the back, he wanders out to the counter. "Hey, Hulk." Catching a strange, almost fearful, look in the big man's eye, Carson tenses just a little as he leans on the counter. "What's up?"
Listening, he tenses even more. Why did Dalton want to talk to him alone? He never did. Why did he look so nervous? Was something wrong? As his eyes drift down to the little velvet box, a strange mixture of feelings hit. Swallowing hard, he's about to ask about it, even though he knew good and well what it was. But as Dalton resumes his explanation, he closes his mouth, looking up once more.
Receiving the whole story, Carson's eyes narrow slightly as his jaw tightens. He looks down at the jewelry case then back up at Dalton, his gaze evolving from lighthearted to concerned to stern to angry. "My, blessing, ay?' He purses his lips and starts wiping the counter with his towel, letting a pause linger.
"You think I'd approve? Of someone like you taking my little sister? You working for the Elite... not knowing if you'll come back from a case alive... putting Dani in danger just because she's married to a man who's fighting against the Agency? You think I'd give you my blessing for that?"
Stopping with the towel, he glares up at Dalton, unafraid of the man's size. "Let me tell you something, Dalton," he hisses. "My sister's been through heck and back with her own family, and I'm not about to watch her get thrown from the frying pan into the fire. Maybe I wasn't there for her enough when she was a kid, but I'm here now, and I'm not gonna give any blessing or anything else to some jerk who thinks he can just waltz into her life and get whatever he wants from her." He points a finger at him. "Nobody - and I mean nobody - harms a hair on her head without my wrath coming down on them so hard they wake up in the hospital and don't even know their own name. I tolerate no man getting involved with Dani with impure intentions."
Pausing again, he works his jaw muscles as his eyes flash with a protective ire. "And you have the nerve to ask me to my face if I'd give you my blessing?" He scoffs and shakes his head. Grabbing a dirty glass from the counter, he shifts to set it on the shelf by the kitchen window rather hard, making it clank on the hard surface. Then he turns back around. And in the split second it takes for his gaze to meet Dalton's again, it has changed completely to one with no trace of anger, but only humor that danced in his eyes. "I'm just glad you're not a jerk. 'Cause I'd hate to kill you."
As a grin finally surfaces, he slings his towel over his shoulder and sighs, setting his hands on his hips. Even though a counter separated them, he could see he'd done a good job at scaring the poor giant - maybe disappointed him more than intended. His grin turns into a smile though, and the smile turns into a chuckle. "Of course you have my blessing, ya big galah - not that you need it, but thanks." Reaching over the counter, he gives Dalton's arm a light punch. "Good onya, mate."
Stacy's voice turns Eric back around again, a bit sheepishly, and he looks at the boots in her hand. Stepping closer, he takes one from her and looks it over, nodding. He flexes the leather shafts to make sure they were supple and checks out the heel as well as the toe, bending them a little, to check their durability. Whether he knew it or not, his hands revealed how much he knew about this kind of thing. "Yeah... yeah these would be good. Shouldn't take too much for her to break 'em in." He hands the boot back to her and smiles a little. "I've seen that look in her eye when she's around the horses... I bet she'll be thrilled with her own pair of boots."
About to leave her be, he stops again, wondering if he really wanted to ask the question on his mind. "Um... she - Ashlee - she asked me if I'd teach her to ride. I ain't made up my mind yet, but..." He shrugs. "If I said yes, is that okay with you? I mean, that she ride... lessons from me... I mean ride with... idiot of the hour." Realizing he'd said too much again, the heat is back in his cheeks and he rolls his eyes just as a smile of humor creeps across his lips. "I think I better go buy that hat so I can hide my face." He sighs and leans an arm on the shelf, looking at Stacy with a wry grin. "I give up."
Sensing a bit of timidity in Beth's tone, Justin gives her his full attention. Would she tell him what was on her mind? He takes another bite of ice cream, cocking his head a little. Her times of silence or fear of talking to him were growing fewer and fewer, but it did seem now that he'd been right - her quietness today did have a reason behind it.
As her explanation starts though, Justin just looks at her a bit stunned, finding it hard to believe that he'd heard her correctly. She'd talked with his mother? On her own? Forgetting about his ice cream, he listens more. She'd actually gone to his mother...twice? She'd talked with her about his family's issues, seen his brother and... didn't even tell him until now? Or better yet, she hadn't even asked him if that was okay with him? For someone who dealt with issues of getting out of her box, she'd certainly stepped way out on this one... and perhaps a bit too far.
Justin's facial expression changes slightly, but it wasn't easy to read. If it was anyone else but Beth, he would rake them over the coals for going behind his back and sticking their nose into his family affairs. Sure, he'd talked about his mother and brother and had confided in Beth about how he felt. But it really was nobody's business, and he felt rather invaded. He'd never asked for anyone to come into the situation let alone go and talk to his family without him being present.
Turning away, he concentrates on the television for just a moment and forces himself, through sheer willpower, not to say the words that were ready to leap off the tip of his tongue like daggers ready to attack. No... not with Beth. He knew that she never would mean to do anything that would upset him and it had been very kind of her to try and help. He knew her heart was in the right place. And he also knew that one harsh word at this point could crumble everything he'd built with her. She finally trusted him, and it was at this point that she was most vulnerable - he knew he could not yell at her, lest it turn into something he would later regret. At least he'd found out that his mother didn't hate him and did want to see him - that was something positive that he could dwell on later.
"Thank you for trying to help. That was very kind of you." Justin's eyes remain on the movie. "I'm sure my mother appreciated it." The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but he said them anyway. Glancing at his half-eaten bowl of ice cream, he untangles his legs and stands. "I think I need some chocolate syrup." He doesn't dare look at Beth... not yet. Not until he could remove the irritation.
Setting down his bowl, he heads for the kitchen, retrieving the syrup from the refrigerator. But instead of going straight back to the living room, he leans on the counter for several moments, trying to bypass his emotions. It would all be fine. He didn't like Beth's way of handling this thing and he was not happy with it at all. But it was fine. No harm had come, and at least he could think about seeing his mother again. So there was good... right? It wasn't a bad thing. It was fine... just... fine.
Looking down, Justin realizes that the cap hadn't been on the syrup container very tightly and apparently he'd clenched his fist. Chocolate oozed down the side of the bottle, onto the counter, and dripped onto the floor. He counts to ten and takes a deep breath before calling into the living room to buy some more time. "You want syrup, too?"
Rocky grins and shakes his head as he puts his phone back in his pocket. "Nah... I don't scare that easy. Just got busy."
Fiddling with the bar of the shopping cart, he shrugs. "I've been alright. Can't complain I guess." He glances down into his cart. "I mean... what's better than shopping for toilet paper and Doritos? Life can't get much more exciting than that."
His eyes twinkle as he smiles. "Unless it's going out for a coffee. Are we ever going to do that, or are we just going to stand around talking about it all the time?"
"Huh..." Eli pries his eyes open, lifting his head to look out from under his pillow. By the time he was able to focus on the doorway though, it was empty again. "Puppies," he mumbles. "Tal... puppies... Tal is having puppies.... that makes sense." Flopping his head back down again, he sprawls out, his feet hanging off the bed and his pillow covering his head once more. "Mmhmm... yay..."
Still in the kitchen, Tal hears the front door and knows that it's Ryan. Staying by Holly, he only looks up when Ryan joins him and a smile comes to his face. "Minutes," he replies. Leaning back against the kitchen cupboards, he keeps a watchful eye on his dog. "She's been getting restless. I think she's pretty uncomfortable."
Glancing up at Ryan, he smiles again. "I'm glad you came. I don't make a very good midwife," he teases.
Holly shifts her head and looks to the new company, nuzzling into Ryan's hand. Tal chuckles. "I think she likes you. Ryan, this is Holly. Holly, this is Ryan." The dog sniffs Ryan's hand some more then licks it again as if showing her approval.
After that, no one cared what time it was. Holly was a trooper as her puppies were born, making sure all were taken care of as she licked and nudged the tiny squeaking balls of matted fur. Tal helped in cleaning up the puppies and changing Holly's bedding several times to minimize the mess. The atmosphere was peaceful and quiet - not many words shared, but the experience one to remember. After seven pups were introduced to the world, it seemed that was all, but number eight was a latecomer, and very obviously the runt of the litter. Even tinier than her brothers and sisters, Tal had to coax her to nurse, and she seemed much more tired than the others. But when the whole family - mother and puppies - all fell asleep from exhaustion, so did number eight, so Tal let her be, hoping she made it through the night.
Outside, the sky was gray as pre-dawn roused the earth. But inside the apartment, it still felt like the middle of the night. Tired just from staying up so late and being so intent on the births, Tal sits on the kitchen floor, leaned back against the cupboards, his eyes drooping. Glancing to his side at Ryan, he knew she must be just as tired.
Yawning, he eyes the blanket they'd been sitting on. Crawling on all fours to straighten it out, he grabs an old throw pillow he'd retrieved from the living room a while earlier. Stretching out on the floor only feet from the sleeping dogs, he puts an arm up under his head and lies on his back. With his free arm, he motions to Ryan if she wanted to join him. He was too tired to stay up any longer and if she wanted to stay, he was more than happy to be her pillow for a few hours.
The man's eyes squint just a little at Trey's reactions, only now wondering if perhaps this man didn't even know who his real family was. It had been assumed that the Elite would have revealed it to him by now. But no matter... the main thing was getting the message to Rick.
Trey's sluggish question, results in a wry grin. "No, kid, your father is in Wisconsin. Me... I'm just a delivery guy."
Downing the rest of his whiskey, he stands up and nods to Trey one last time. "Get that note to the doctor and pray he reads it and follows instructions - if you care about your brother living. If not, then I guess I chose the wrong guy." Leaving money on the bar, he turns and leaves the Bullseye without looking back.
Pete appreciated everything about Nikki... and tonight, her extra care was perhaps what he needed, even more than he realized. He nods thoughtfully to her words, hoping they were true - hoping what he'd done with Cindy had been the right thing.
Feeling the little tug, he turns to look at Nikki, battling for just a moment between wanting to deal with this himself and wanting to give in to the comfort offered. It doesn't take but a few seconds for him to decide.
Leaning his head to rest on Nikki's shoulder, he sighs deeply. It was different, letting her be the one to be the strength... yet it was kind of nice, too. "Thanks," he mentions quietly. "Maybe in a few days I will go see her... and I think she'd appreciate anything you'd make."
His hand slips over onto her lap to find her own hand and give it a squeeze. And for the first time, he wondered if sitting here with her... swinging gently... just sharing a quiet moment... was a little piece of the future.
Reese blinks, unsure if he'd heard Chance correctly. "The Underground has Destiny," he repeats. "How do you know this?"
"Because I went to see her. Twice. The second time was just a while ago and her place had been ransacked." Chance had shifted into matter-of-fact mode and wasn't going to let his emotions get in the way. "They left her Agency file and her parents' obituary as a blatant message for me."
Reese was none too thrilled Chance was here, and he wasn't going to get all excited over this either. Not with Chance's past record. "And what was that message?"
"They want me."
"You?"
"Yes. They've been keeping as good an eye on me as the Elite has. I thought I was under their radar too, but apparently not."
Reese leans back in his chair and sighs. "First off, we still don't know who the Underground really is, thanks to your silence. Second, there's really nothing for us to know you aren't scheming something else. And third, why did you come back to see Destiny?"
Chance shifts his weight uncomfortably, but maintains his poise. "I came back to apologize to her. I'm not scheming anything - I just want to get Destiny back and make sure she's safe. And as far as the Underground goes... I'll tell you everything I know."
Reese still isn't convinced. "Why the change of heart?"
"Because I..." Chance swallows hard. "I'd do anything to get Destiny out of there."
Somehow, Reese could see that Chance was truly being genuine, even if it was a surprise. He really did care about Destiny. But what they'd do about it remained vague. "So you're offering information in exchange for our help."
"Whatever it takes."
"How do you propose getting her out?"
"A trade. They want me - that's the only reason they did all this. So we'll give them me."
"Why don't you just go by yourself then?"
"Backup... and someone to watch her once she's back to make sure she really is safe."
"Then what happens to you?"
Chance bites his lip. "I guess that can't be foreseen."
Reese shakes his head. "There's something about this I really don't like. I feel like I'd be letting the Elite walk right into a trap. Without negotiations... it seems planning is senseless."
"Then we'll start the negotiations." Chance pulls out his cell phone. "I'll call them. Please, Reese... If I walk in alone, they'll just take me and keep Destiny. But if there's someone there from here to make a trade, they'll be less likely to pull that stunt."
Reese thinks during a long pause before he punches a button on his phone. "Nate... come to my office, please." He waits until Nate has come, then offers him a seat, giving him the quick version of why Chance was here and what was happening. "...with Jason out of the game, I'd like you in on this. We need to act fast before anything happens to Destiny. If Chance can set up an exchange, would you bring Destiny back here?"
The woman leaves the food even though Destiny said she didn't want it. "No... we're not going to kill you." Squatting down to be at her eye-level, she cocks her head. "We're not some mob of heartless killers," she explains gently. "What happened to your family was unfortunate and it shouldn't even have happened at all. Bad information and an ill-prepared team member resulted in a much worse scene than intended."
Pursing her lips, she stands again. "And Chance will come. He doesn't easily leave behind that which he's attached to. And believe me when we say we know what he's attached to and what he's not."
Kip wasn't really sleeping, even though he'd been on his bed for the last couple hours. With his face to the wall, it hid his red eyes - obvious evidence that he'd been crying.
Just as he's almost ready to slip into sleep, he hears someone enter his room. He didn't need to ask who it was. He just... knew. Feeling the bed move a little, then having Karla's arm slip around him, he didn't move. His eyes had dried but his heart still ached.
Slowly, one of his hands crawls up to find her fingers and he holds her hand. "I missed you too," he responds quietly. It was all he would say for several minutes, and one might think he actually had fallen asleep until he moves again. Rolling onto his back, he keeps Karla's arm around him and he turns his head to see her face. "I'm sorry I didn't come tonight," he apologizes.
His thumb rubs her hand absentmindedly, letting her palm rest on his chest. "Kyle came. He... he thinks I should see someone like... like a counselor... or something." He turns his head again so he'd be looking up at the ceiling instead of Karla's eyes. "I can't decide if it's true or if I just need to pull out of the band and start something different."
7/3/11
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