Light was leaking in around the edge of the drapes and Angie moved slowly toward the day, as she always did, reluctant to leave the warmth of her bed and her husband (who had developed the habit of waking a bit later since the war ended). No matter that it never got too cold in L.A., the a/c maintained a nice contrast. She moved a little to the side, having perfected the technique of slipping from under Tyler's arm without waking him. The one-armed embrace had relaxed some in the year since the liberation, now a function of habit and affection where it once was born of the edgy instinct to protect against whatever might be waiting outside.
Now, surprisingly, Angie felt the arm tighten a bit, holding her back.
"Mmh, lemme go. Gotta feed Max..."
Silence followed as one arm was joined by another. After his previous crappy expression of logic, this time Tyler took a few seconds to come up with a better way to say What Needed To Be Said.
"Max is hunting. He'll be fine." Silence again, as it sank in.
A nice warm comfy bed, Ham close by, a/c humming, everything felt as it should be. But it wasn't, not really, and Angie got it as the fog burned off.
He could feel her collapse a little. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she lied, "just forgot for a minute." He still didn't let her go. "I'm okay, okay? Just not used to shifting gears so fast."
He squeezed a little tighter and kissed her head. "Your talent for lying doesn't improve with time, but stubborn is holding up just fine." When let her go, he rolled out of bed. "I guess it's time to see what anybody has figured out. Gooder was sending some of the street rat patrol out to find out who's got a target painted on them, and who's painting them."
Angie climbed out of bed still wearing the robe she'd found after her shower the night before. Tyler was washed and dressed (though she had no idea where he'd found the jeans and t shirt he had on) while she was still exploring the closets.
"Well c'mon, woman, if you get ready in less than five minutes I promise to let you kick that kid's ass some more."
"I didn't need you to let me do it the first time!" she shot back, and noticed the smile working on his face. "See?" she told him, "I told you I'm okay. And I'll be happy to get ready if I had anything but this to wear!" She indicated the robe, and the empty closets. "I didn't exactly have time to pack."
He offered an over-the-top leer for her benefit. "You look fine to me." No smile was forthcoming. "Okay, okay. There's this clothes store downstairs, you know how these high end places have everything you need that they can sell you. It's where I got this stuff. You'll find something."
She pulled the robe closer around herself and tied it tighter. "Okay, but I'm bringing this, just in case."
She reached for the Ruger where she'd left it on the bureau and tucked it into the sash of her robe as she headed for the door. Ham reached out and grabbed her by the the back of the sash, pulling her to a stop, and stood close behind her.
"I wasn't playing games, Angel. Something's not right and I need to know what before we get this operation going." He leaned closer and pressed his mouth against her ear. "And don't tell me 'I'm okay'."
Damn him. She knew it would come to this. "I don't know... maybe I do. It's just, it all feels different this time. I feel different. This time it's scaring me, bad."
"You've been scared bad before, you got through it." He didn't make her face him, knowing sometimes it was easier for her to get to the center of things if she didn't have to wonder how she should look while someone else was looking back, even him. "Yeah it's different, this time," he told her. "This time we know what we're fighting. And yeah this time you're different too, you know more than you did before, you're smarter and stronger."
She shook her head, bumping his nose where it was pressed into her hair. "That's not what I mean. I mean... what if this time, I just lose it?" When he slid both arms around her waist and pulled her back, she leaned into him. "I don't feel as ready, even knowing more than I did before, I feel all jangly and unsteady. I never felt that, even in the very beginning. You know what I mean, you've seen it a million times, I know you have. Somebody who starts out on top of things, and then outta nowhere they just unravel. Nobody sees it coming, it just... happens. That's what's getting to me. This time I'm scared I'll just look up one day and I won't know who I am or what's happening, or..."
"Stop." He waited until she settled down and her breathing got more even. "I know exactly what you mean. Yeah I've seen it a million times, like you said, but the reason nobody saw it coming is that nobody was smart enough to know it could. And it was somebody who kept their own watch, no matter how many of us were there. That's not you."
"But if if I start to get shaky..."
"I'll be there. If you run for the cliff, I'll slow you down. If you start shaking, I'll keep you steady."
"I can't ask you to do that, with everything else..."
Now he spun her around, fast, and held her still, their faces inches apart. "You don't ask for it. You don't think about it. But that's the way it is. What does it say inside that fancy ring you're wearing?" He grabbed her left hand, showing her the platinum band of interlocking lotus blossoms as if she'd never seen it before. Reno had found one of the few jewelers left standing capable of turning Tyler's somewhat ethereal (for him) description into a wedding ring.
"Ham, I get it, we don't have to..." Angie was sorry she'd said anything, she just wanted to let it go. But Tyler never let anything go.
"What does it say." No question mark, but he said it gently this time.
"'As long as I'm breathing'."
"That's right. And there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Got it?"
Finally, she smiled up at him. "Yeah. I guess you're so good at blowing things up I forget how good you are at holding them - me - together. I'll let you know if I ever start to feeling, well, unravel-ly."
"You won't have to." Tyler shook his head, feigning exasperation. "I can see I am getting nowhere, but that's fine. I got so used to crazy I married it, so what's a little extra vigilance? Now, you ready to go down and run strategy? Because that's your new job. No computers yet, but you are the company geek. The punks will do the grunt work, and you Gooder and me will manage the plan. You game?"
Angie threw her arms around Ham's neck and purred, "Baby, I was born game," before kissing him "good and proper", as he'd come to call it. Even after all they'd been and done and seen together, Tyler's easy ability to calm her down and help her set her thoughts in order still could surprise her.
When they got to the lobby, Angie went off in the direction of the clothing store Ham had described. On the way she passed by a few of the newly allied rebels, Steve among them. She noticed he no longer was wearing that filthy leather neck thong. Smart boy, she thought to herself, then noticed him glancing nervously at the pistol that was jammed into the belt of her robe.
"Relax, junior, the safety's on." She smiled as she strolled past.
Steve was unable to keep from watching her walk away. "She's wrong, I am an ass man... and it looks like she doesn't hold a grudge."
"Yeah, well I do." Steve froze as Tyler's hand clamped onto his shoulder. "Touch my wife again, and they don't make notes high enough for what you'll be singing." He shoved his Glock into Steve's crotch for emphasis. "Now where's Donovan, we have some things to discuss."
Steve was too busy staring at the gun at his balls to form a reply. One of the others croaked, "Kitchen."
"Thanks." He gave the muzzle of the Glock an extra twist before letting Steve go, and walked away still wearing the same tight smile. He found Donovan in the kitchen as promised, looking over some maps and notes.
"Hey, about time you showed up." He waved the papers. "It looks like the invasion might just be run from the East coast this time, from where Boston used to be. We got some good intel just from the past twelve hours... these kids might be more use than we thought."
"Great." Tyler snorted and glanced over his shoulder. "I'll try to remember that next time I get the urge to shoot one of 'em."