John looked down at the lilting stack of pancakes. It wasn't that he didn't like them, or that he wasn't hungry. But pancakes were for Sunday mornings when he was at home, slumped over the table, waking up closer to noon than morning. They didn't exactly fit the mood of planning a raid on evil aliens.
He carefully slipped one off his plate, dropping it down to Bernie, who instantly and eagerly devoured it.
Netoya had seen him. She saw everything, apparently, but rarely actually said anything about it. She was already in a bad mood, as it had been discovered that she took her coffee black – just like Six.
Naturally, this made Six annoyed too, she was tenser than ever, jabbing her fork into a plate of eggs it seemed she had no intention of eating.
Six's explosive mood was making Ella jumpy, although then again, she was always twitchy. But of course, this put Daniel on edge too.
They were a happy bunch, they were.
Patrick put down his spoon, placing an envelope on the faded tablecloth. "I have the directions." He said calmly. "We should start driving out there sometime this afternoon – we don't want to leave in the middle of the day."
"Do we need to bring any supplies with us?" Tyler asked. "I mean, to help us figure out whatever we need?"
"We won't know what we need until we know what we'll find." Six said tiredly. "So no." Sam slowly slipped an egg off her plate and onto his, and she shot him a death glare. He swallowed the egg.
"Then, what do we do until then?" Teresa asked. "Is there anything we have to get done?"
"Train." Six said instantly. Teresa's face dropped.
"No," Patrick answered, "But whatever you do, split up, so as not to attract attention to our group."
"Meet at the garage?" Daniel suggested.
"Yes." Patrick nodded decisively. "Three o'clock. Do we agree?"
"Yes." Netoya said sharply.
"Well then, I suppose that's all settled." Six said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Netoya rose and departed, and Six's head dropped back down to glare at the table. Sam stole another egg cautiously from her, but she had no energy left to berate him.
"I'm going back to sleep." Teresa said aside to Tyler. "You want to come?" Her face changed as soon as the words left her mouth, realizing the other ways it could be taken.
"Sure." Tyler said, oblivious, leaving his utensils back on his plate and standing up.
"I'm gonna go train." Six said, abruptly standing.
"Really?" Sam asked, looking up at her. "You already trained this morning, didn't you?"
"That was just warm up." Six blew him off, gathering her bag.
"Maybe you should take a break, rest." Sam suggested. "You'll only drive yourself to exhaustion if you just train all the time."
"A human might." Six said. "But that's one thing I'm not." She shouldered her bag, sliding sunglasses down over her face. "Feel free to join me." With that, she turned and left the room.
Sam stared after her for a few seconds, then returned to pushing food around his plate. "Only an idiot would go train with that maniac." He muttered to the table.
A few minutes later, he got up and followed the path she had taken.
Six hated to admit that the little brainiac was right – that wasn't entirely true, she hated to admit that anyone other than her was right – but there might actually be a limit to how much one could train. She'd tried. She'd stretched. She started burning things, crumbling things, all the usual stuff. But she was too distracted, it wasn't working. Her shoulders were tense, her aim was off, and she was getting angry, which was only making her precision worse.
None of it was working.
So when Ella and Daniel had passed by on their way who knows where, Six had gone along. After a few minutes of walking with them, Ella had invited her.
So there it was. Now Six was wandering through the aisles of the small grocery store – more like a jack-of-all-trades store, she thought. She'd found a hammer with a painting set and a stack of tape refills behind a carton of pineapple.
But despite the lack of organization and wide range, browsing through such mundane products was boring. Six straightened her back, scrounging her mind for a purpose. What did they need? What could she get here that would be useful?
Trail Mix. Power bars. Gatorade. They'd need all their strength for the next few days. And maybe . . . donuts. The practical side of her simply stated there was no point, but in a faint, uninvested whisper. She wanted to do something nice. Something that would make them smile. Sugar seemed to be the surest way to do that.
She strode briskly over to Ella, who was trailing around the produce stand.
"Where are the pastries?"
Ella glanced up, her head cocked.
"Pastries?" she repeated.
"Yes." Six nodded. "Like donuts. Do they have them here?"
"I don't know." Ella said, turning around. "But I assume they probably do. Let's check back by the bread."
She maneuvered through the aisles back to a few wooden stands, both pairs of eyes searching.
"They have some cookies," Ella pointed out, turning a box over.
"Yes," Six acknowledged without moving. Those weren't quite as exciting as she had envisioned.
"They might have some Hostess stuff closer to the check-out though."
"That'd be better." Six agreed quickly.
"Having a sugar craving?" Ella asked lightly, setting the box back down and straightening the little stand before moving on.
"No." Six said, smiling at Ella's tone, not the comment. "I thought everyone might like them though."
"That's a great idea." Ella instantly affirmed. "I'm sure they'll disappear right away."
Six nodded, glad to have someone else to tell her it wasn't a stupid idea.
"Do you think we need cereal?" Ella asked.
While Six walked around the back aisles of the store eyes focused straight ahead, Ella trailed through, hands skimming the shelves, touching every random object that caught her eye.
"That's a good idea." Six said, her insides brightening. She and Ella actually did think along the same lines. "We won't be getting brunches anymore."
"Exactly." Ella turned her head to grin brilliantly at her. "If it's not in this aisle, it should be in the next one over."
"Yeah," Six said. "I think I saw it there when we were walking over."
"Ella!"
Daniel came out of nowhere to the end of the aisle and was instantly in front of them, clutching Ella's arm.
"Where were you? What happened?" He demanded, looking around intensely.
"It's okay, everything's fine." Ella said, reaching up hesitantly with a calming hand.
Daniel relaxed slightly, but his look was accusing. "You disappeared – I thought something had happened."
"I'm sorry," Ella apologized, as Six looked on in confusion. They'd been in the same building the whole time, and all of them could clearly hold their own. Her own cepan had never been so overprotective. "We just went to the back of the store, we were looking for the bread. I'm sorry, I should have told you." Daniel simply nodded.
"It's my fault," Six put in, realizing there was an issue, even if she didn't see exactly what it was. "I asked Ella to help me look."
Daniel glanced over at her. "It's no problem, Six." He said. "We just need to be careful, that's all."
Six nodded, warily. "Yeah." She said. "We're all being careful. We're just grocery shopping."
Daniel nodded, but it didn't seem to Six that they were on the same wave-length at all.
She hurried up to the check out after that. Daniel and Ella were stuck together now and she felt ostensibly like the third wheel, a position she held no desire to maintain. Six hurried out of the store ahead of them, plastic bag in hand, headed back for the hotel.
Six opened up the door and walked inside, setting her bag on the counter. Teresa, Tyler, and Sam were sitting on the rug, cards in hand. Six ambled over to them.
"Poker?" Six said, craning her neck to see the faces of the cards, interest sparked in her eyes.
They glanced at one another. Teresa smiled.
"Um, no, actually," Sam said, his mouth dropping as he looked at his cards.
"President." Teresa explained.
"Ah." Six nodded once. She sat down, fluidly crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. "You'll have to teach me the rules." She informed them.
They once again all glanced at each other, and Tyler swept up the cards, re-shuffling them.
"It's pretty easy to catch on to," Teresa said, admitting, "It's kind of a kid's game."
Six nodded solemnly.
"So basically," Sam started explaining, "You just have to put down a card higher than the one already down. Aces are high. And you can do doubles," He rambled on, Six listening intently, watching carefully as the cards were divided between the four of them.
Teresa and Tyler exchanged a glance.
"Okay," Tyler said, after about ten minutes of Sam explaining in great detail all the intricacies of every rule of the card game, having grown sufficiently bored of rearranging his cards. "Should we start?"
Six nodded decisively. "Yes." She glanced at Sam. "Thank you. I think I understand now."
Sam flushed, nodding back, hastily picking up his own cards. "No problem."
"Now watch her beat all of us." Teresa said, grinning, putting down the first card.
"Beginner's luck." Six shrugged.
"Doesn't make it any less of a win."
Six didn't win that round, or the round after that, or even the next one. But she didn't come in last either, and the cards were flying quickly, and at the moment, she couldn't think of anything more therapeutic.
"Of course, Netyoa would be the last to show up." Six said, snorting. "Hypocrite."
She stood with her arms crossed, facing away from the rest of them gathered in front of the empty car wash.
"It's hardly five." Patrick said, perhaps making an attempt to be pacifying, but his tone was flat. He was staring out, up and down the empty road, completely motionless.
John shifted, reaching down to scratch Bernie behind the ears. He kept on whining and snuffling around – probably because Daniel wouldn't put his knife away. But you didn't make suggestions to the guy with the dagger on behalf of the dog, even if it was technically a shapeshifter. And there was little chance of Daniel relaxing, not with Ella in the skittish mood she was. Whatever was going on with her, it was making them both uncomfortable. She'd already taken more advil in the past few hours than a person hardly five foot probably should.
"Maybe she forgot." Teresa suggested, looking at her fingernails, switching their color. "Maybe we should call her or something."
Six snorted, rolling her eyes. Patrick shook his head. "Netoya would not forget. Cepan do not forget their appointments."
Especially not one as uptight as her, John thought, but he more than knew better than to say that little comment aloud.
"She's coming." Ella said, her lips pursed.
"How far?"
"You should be able to see her in a few seconds."
"Which direction?" Six demanded.
Ella pointed, and Six directed her death glare accordingly.
"There's two of them."
Patrick's head snapped around. "What?"
Ella repeated herself. "There's two of them. Two Lorien. Netoya and, someone else."
"Are you sure?" Tyler asked.
Ella nodded down the road, where two figures had just emerged.
"How do they feel?" Daniel asked.
"Fine." Ella replied. "I don't know."
"But they're Lorien?" Sam asked. "Not just alien, but Lorien?"
Ella hesitated. "I'm eighty-eight percent sure."
"It's a boy." John said, as the figures became more distinct. "He definitely doesn't look like a Mog. He's too small."
"Who is he?" Teresa wondered aloud.
The pair approached even closer, Netoya's expression becoming visible, her face as stoic as ever. The group fell silent, simply waiting, until the two stood within their range.
The boy was young, just hitting puberty, probably around thirteen or fourteen, still gawky, with arms a bit too big for his body. His eyes were big, just as his smile, which he bestowed on everyone, light seeming to emit from his face, exuding goodwill to them all.
"Netoya." Patrick said firmly. "What is this?"
Netyoa inhaled, clasping her hands behind her back and looking straight ahead. "I was not honest with you." She stated. "Number Nine did not die. This is Number Nine."
"Hi guys." The boy said, smiling widely. "You can call me Leo."
John felt as if his head was running miles behind everybody and everything else. Daniel was looking at Ella, who nodded slightly, eyes wide.
"So let me get this straight." Six demanded, arms crossed, expression unreadable behind dark glasses. "You've been lying to us this whole time."
"We're sorry," Nine said. "Really. But we had to be careful."
"It was a necessary precaution." Netoya said flatly. "We knew you were going to come looking for us. We weren't sure it was in our best interest to join you yet, so we decided to do some research before making a decision."
"You spied on us until junior decided if he wanted to hide and save his own skin or help us?" Six spat acidly.
"I made sure it was safe before Leo ran out and sacrificed himself for a pack of fools, ending the Lorien for good." Netoya retorted.
"Show us your scars." Teresa's voice piped up. Heads instantly swiveled to appraise her. "Sorry," She said, quietly, but kept their gaze. "Just – please. To make sure."
Leo nodded. "Of course." He said, rolling up a pant leg, displaying three shimmering, spiral scars to the world, one after another. He looked over at Teresa. "Just like yours, right?"
Teresa nodded. "Yes." She walked over towards him, closing the gap between the two groups, extending a hand. "I'm Teresa." She said with a smile. "And I guess I'm Eight."
"Teresa." He repeated, taking her hand with a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you."
"What made you change your mind?" Patrick inquired, directing his question to Netoya.
"My observations." Was her response, face stoic as ever. "My first goal is to keep the garde safe. For that to happen, Leo has to be safe, more so than anyone else, as he is our last chance. But seeing your plans, you are prepared, but could clearly use additional help. We decided that your success was important. It was worth the risk to help."
Patrick nodded slowly. "We welcome you, Leo." He said solemnly. "It is good to see you, well and healthy. My name is Patrick. I am the cepan of Number Five."
Tyler raised a hand, stepping forward. "I'm Number Five." He said. "Tyler."
Leo nodded eagerly, grin still firmly in place. "I'm so glad I finally get to meet all of you." He said earnestly.
Six snorted. "Yes, finally. About time."