of that musty room cleaning his weapons. He had newspaper spread out on a lumpy ottoman and the parts of his pistols spread out on that and the only sounds were the rustle of the newsprint and the precision snicks and clicks of well-oiled firearms.
At the far corner of the room, Davette stood in the little kitchenette where they'd cooked the Team's lunch. She had offered to tidy up but that had been awhile back when the room was filled with people and now she didn't know if she was still there because she wanted td stay or was just frightened to walk past Felix to get out.
So she stayed there in the corner, cleaning and recleaning like some rabid housewife on speed, sneaking constant glances at him and feeling like a complete idiot until she couldn't stand it anymore and just made herself stop, just stop and stand there with her hands on the edge of the sink and stare out that grimy window and catch her breath.
She said things like: What's the matter with me? and Get yourself together, and it worked a bit. She was almost calm when she felt the silence and turned around and he was just sitting there staring into space.
Then he looked up, caught her watching him, and smiled.
It made her fumble a bit. But she managed a: "Can I get you something?"
He glanced at his empty glass, reached for it. "Some more ice water?" he asked.
"No!" she almost shrieked. And then, more calmly, "I'll get it."
And as she walked toward him she cursed herself for the way she was acting and wondered if anything in the world could make her stop behaving like such a fool and then she reached for his glass and saw his face and it all went away.
My God! she thought, seeing those tired, tired eyes, he looks terrible!
He did. He looked beaten, blasted, worn down, worn out. He looked like a man who had just decided to commit suicide.
It wasn't until she had taken his glass and walked back to refill it that she realized that that was exactly what had happened when he had decided to join Team Crow and she knew suddenly what he was thinking about and why he looked the way he did and her butterflies went away and something else, warmer, more solid, replaced them.
But she didn't speak. She just gave him his full glass and sat down at the tiny little built-in breakfast table and sipped her cold coffee and for several moments that's all that happened in the room - the two of them sitting and sipping in silence.
And there's nothing I can say to change it, she kept thinking.
Adam, wearing full priestly regalia, appeared at the connecting door to the next room.
He always looks ten years older dressed like that, she thought.
"Felix?" he called quietly. "Would you like to take confession?"
The gunman looked up, a quizzical expression on his face, and replied, to the others' total surprise, "Yeah. I would."
Felix put his cigarette out in the ashtray and stood up. "How does it work?"
Adam smiled, held out a beckoning, robed arm. "It's easy."
Less than five minutes later, Felix came strolling briskly back into the room alone. He stopped, looked around the room, at Davette, at his chair, at his guns. Then he walked over and picked up his glass of ice water and drained it down.
Adam appeared behind him in the doorway looking mournful.
"I'm sorry, Adam," said Felix when he saw him.
But Adam just shook his head to say it was all right. And when Felix turned away from him to light a cigarette, the young priest made the sign of the cross to his back. Then, with a sad smile for Davette, Adam left.
Felix surprised her by sitting across from her at the tiny breakfast table. He seemed to feel the need to explain to her and she could see him start to speak several times before he finally shrugged, laughed a rueful silent laugh, and said, "I wasn't having any fun."
She smiled at him and blushed to the roots of her light-blond hair. And so they sat there for several more moments, she feeling foolish and excited and infinitely sad and he feeling... what? Numb, she supposed. He certainly looked numb the few times she braved a glance.
After the dozenth dry sip, she realized she must look pretty odd drinking from an empty cup. She got up and went over to the kitchenette for another refill. When