First things first: get Carlos up and sober, then fill him in. Rider and Shabazz had committed to getting him up and pouring coffee into his gullet. Mike and Inez had to be found, and they had to get on a flight back home, and once home, get debriefed. Salt supplies had to be reinforced to do roofs, windows, doors, and the house perimeter - a FedEx shipment was on the way from Stateside clerical Covenant contacts.
They still had to figure out a way to lock in on the Chairman, and for that, Carlos Rivera had to be in his clear and present mind and stop avoiding his role as a pivotal team seer. But now that the team knew what it was up against, sensing for it would be a little easier. Maybe.
The new day's light hovered over her like the comfortable old blanket she'd curled up under on her living room couch. She rubbed her cheek against it.
Slowly sitting up and then standing, Damali allowed the blanket to trail behind her as she walked to the bathroom to splash water on her face and brush her teeth. She didn't bother to turn on the light and draped the blanket around her shoulders like a poncho as she stared into the mirror. She hadn't even taken off her clothes and was still wearing the bright orange T-shirt and faded jeans she'd had on the night before.
Weariness made her limbs heavy. She padded quietly toward the kitchen in her socks. For all the protest about needing her personal space, it had always been her intention to christen her brand-new bed with Carlos. Then the walking dead had showed up at her door. A real groove buster.
A hot mug of tea was in order. By rote, she reached up into her brand-new cabinets, found a box of green tea, and began preparing a mug by drizzling raw honey over the organic tea bag and then flipping on the burner beneath the kettle. All of a sudden she smelled metal and snatched the kettle off the flame.
Oh, yeah, water. Everything was brand-spanking new. Nothing in her new house was old and worn and comfortable or broken in, except. Jose's blanket.
Angry hisses and sputters sounded from the sink as Damali turned on the faucet and filled the kettle, then stood by the stove, watching the blue flame tickle the bottom of it. Too much heat without enough water... Leo flame hadn't respected the Scorpio water. Carlos had a point; she wasn't big on the solitude of majestic Arizona, either.
Soon steam rose from the small hole in the kettle's spout, letting out a soft whistle. The fusion of heat and water had changed the two elements into something else. It created a sound - a high, whining rush of transformation. She turned off the burner. What was she missing? she thought as she dunked the teabag in and out of the water.
Pulling her blanket closer around her, she walked through the kitchen to the back deck. She needed air, to be outside. Probably as much as Carlos needed his own environment, something familiar, something that gave him some measure of control over whatever was going on in his life. Here, he didn't have that.
Footsteps down the side path made her straighten her body, wipe her face angrily, and spin on the intruder.
"Yo, D," Jose said. "You okay?" He hesitated and looked at her tear-streaked face. "After last night, and a lot of the things you told us while Carlos was passed out cold... I was worried." His gaze sought hers and trapped it. "And, if Yonnie happened to fall by to try to mess with your head while you had a lot on your mind, I brought my crossbow to stake his ass in lair in the morning. Hope you don't mind."
She nodded and then laughed self-consciously through the tears. "I move around the corner, and still nobody knocks?" She was glad that he smiled, because the statement wasn't meant as a dig, just a friendly tease. She made a fist and raised it toward the sky. "It's a Navajo-Latino thing, and I wouldn't understand. It's cultural - on the Navajo side, no one owns the land, so it's cool if you just roll up on 'em as long as they're outside. On the Latino side - why use a phone when you can just fall by and see if a sistah is home?"
Jose's smile widened. "Yeah, and a sister got her cultural ways, too. She woulda hollered in my window by now, if I had my own spot - talking about, 'Yo, Jose, wanna go kick some sounds? I got this song in my head! Wake up!' "
"Oh, now, see - you wrong, Jose!"
They both laughed as she ran toward him and gave him a big hug.
"I miss you already," she said, laughing harder as he hugged her tighter. His faded blue plaid shirt and rumpled jeans were a sight for sore eyes.
"You my boo, girl. We should be down at the beach, eating some tacos, Rollerblading, hanging."
"Clubbing!"
He held her away from him with a wide grin. "D, don't tease me like that. This town has one bar with sawdust on the floors, one movie theater, one good diner, one freakin' grocery store, but five ammo shops!"
"And you've gotta drive fifty miles to hit a Wal-Mart to buy some drawers," they said in unison and laughed.
"Brother, I ain't trying to look a gift horse in the mouth or talk about your people's land, but - "
"D, it's a one-horse town. You ain't gotta tell me."
Again they laughed, and she slung her arm over his shoulder like old times.
"Remind me why we came here again?" Damali said, giving Jose a wink.
"Something about some vampire friends of yours," he said, laughing as they made their way back into the house.
"Oh, so now it's on me?" Damali stopped in the kitchen and folded her arms.
"Yep, fearless leader. See, me, I woulda risked the hotel circuit till we could build in Malibu or Beverly Hills or some-freakin'-where other than here."
"Stop lying, Jose," she said, laughing harder. "How were we gonna keep all the kids in the house, straight and safe?"
"Yes, Mommy dearest," he said, bowing his head slightly, then looking up with a mischievous smirk. "But in a minute, they're gonna get one helluva education all cramped in that rickety house of Pop's."