After Party

a/n: November 2nd, post game, and Alexa and Doug just left the first Day of the Dead party on Mira. But it isn't midnight yet, and Alexa still has some mescal.

Sorrow, fluff, written in under an hour so the typos may be astonishing. Hard spoiler hints to end game.

All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, and I am so freaking grateful I can hardly breathe sometimes. The story of the part is up and labled "Day of the Dead", with my OC Rosalee Lopez the random Interceptor.

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"What's the hurry?"

"It's already 2320. We don't have so much time left"

"Another skell test? Honestly, Alexa. Take a break tonight. Let's go back to the party."

"Not a test. We need to do this at home."

Doug filed his immediate response deep in back of his mind. He knew she must mean something else, and he probably did to. "Fine. Let me get the door."

Alexa's hands were full with a bulging bag of things. "And before you nag, yes, I asked Rosalee if I could borrow all this stuff. Most of this stuff. I may have grabbed a few more things."

"Any mescal in there?" Doug asked hopefully.

"First thing I grabbed." She was poking around his kitchenette, pulling out towels and glasses and dishes.

"I gotta say, that party was a huge success. Your instincts were absolutely right. Native Miran plants making a fine base for mescal."

"My instincts and a good five months of failures."

"Never gave up, though." He laughed. "All of New Los Angeles will be grateful, once they're over their hangovers." Alexa muttered something back at him from deep in a cabinet. He didn't realize his cabinets actually were deep. "Need any help?"

"I said, do you have a tablecloth?"

"Why should I? Don't have a table."

"Because … ha! This will do!" She came round the kitchen island with a red and green blanket in her hands, as well as a pile of other kitchen stuff.

"So that's where it was," he said. "Lin was nagging me. It must have been left over from the picnic. I wonder how it got to my place."

"Let's blame Tatsu. Move that end table over by the window."

Made no sense to him, but he did as he was told. He'd barely cleared and moved it when Alexa flung the blanket over the table. Her hands moved hurriedly, placing a small box at the center back, covering that with a white dish towel, then laying plates and glasses around it. She dragged the bag over and started pulling more things out. She hadn't gotten the first wreath of flowers out when Doug realized what was going on.

"It's one of those altar things."

"Ofrenda. These should be orange, marigolds, you know? These smell all wrong, not bad, just, not right, but I like how the Miran flowers glow, so there's that. Certain smells are best, somehow, don't ask me why. But candles, those let the dead know that we're here." She had set four small tea lights among the flowers and lit them one after another.

Doug was having trouble swallowing. He didn't want to see what came next, but he didn't want to walk away.

"And the food, it helps them remember how many good things there were, fruit and candy. They don't eat it, of course, but it's all a symbol of how much we still love them. A reminder, to them and to us."

She placed a glass of water and a bowl and towel on the floor. "This bit is a little old-school, giving them a way to clean up after their journey. My mom never really got into it. Home, it was a photo and a flower and a candle. But my dad's mom, mi abuela and that crew, wow, they'd fill the garage rec-room with their decorations. The photos went back generations, and she kept everything and added something new each year. Hand me some stuff."

Doug stiffly pulled out a loaf of golden bread and two sugar skulls with cold hands.

"Not for eating, just a warning. If Rosalee did them right, they should be about as much Elmer's as sugar. Plus the tinsel. Not sure about the bread, I think that could be okay." She laid the bread on a plate, flanked by the white skulls, decorated with gold and purple foil stars. The candle light twinkled on them.

"Mescal next. One for them, and don't mind if I do." She had three shot glasses ready, filling them all, and she placed one on the altar before handing one to Doug and emptying her own. She took a deep breath. "Ready?"

Doug held his glass, but didn't answer. She smiled at him, nodded, and smiled again with added warmth. "So, now the photo. Not necessary to save it for last, but I figured…" She walked back to the kitchen and pulled something else from a cupboard. No hesitation. She must have had it ready and waiting.

She returned holding a silver frame, about the size of her hand. She carefully placed the frame and its contents on the white cloth at the top of the altar. Doug, glass of mescal still untouched, stared at it without focusing. A face, dark hair and eyes, a familiar smile. Then he really looked at it and started. He blinked hard, and looked again.

"Where'd you get that?"

"You weren't Lao's only friend, even if you were his best. Other people had photos of her. If all else failed, I would have hit up Eleanora, but I didn't need to. It wasn't that hard."

"Charmaine."

"Yeah. I'm not ready to put up anything else, sorry, Doug, but I can't. And we missed yesterday. That's for the kids. But she can tell them all about it. She can tell everyone…"

He realized she was crying. He put one arm around her and pulled her close to his side. They looked at the altar together.

"I'm sorry, Doug. I can't do better. We're almost out of time. The day's almost over." Alexa sounded sad and stubborn and sorry, all at once.

"You know you did great. You always do that." He squeezed her shoulder, leaned down and planted a kiss on the top her head. "Always."

Eventually, she wiped her face and they shared his glass of mescal. Which wasn't strictly necessary, because it turned out Rosalee had stashed a small second bottle at the very bottom of the bag for them

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a/n: Argh! I was supposed to be so done with this holiday! Three stories, one week, somebody drag my brain out back and use a fire extinguisher on it. Or a snow shovel.

Why am I singing Oceanos by Coast right now? Absolutely off topic. Stupid brain.

Next up: I have no idea anymore, really. Maybe we'll see about Alexa's dream, or maybe I WILL END UP WRITING ABOUT ZARUBOGGAN HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS OR SOME OTHER HORROR!