Chapter Summary: A former priestess meets a former sinner. And a blonde finds that sometimes things don't work as planned.
Note: Extra chapter for the month - Just catching up on some backlog.
Chapter Word Count: 5,101
Sophia sat on the beach, a little used patch of sand miles from the bustling beaches of Cancun, watching the waves move back and forth. It had been an exhausting two months, after becoming the Clan Weaver. Although she was no longer a priestess, she was still available to help her people spiritually. But now, it wasn't just the older Mayans who were coming to her for advice and comfort. Now, the younger women of the clan, in their amazing multitudes, were seeking her out. It was a very enlightening experience.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" a soft voice asked. Turning in surprise, she found herself looking at an unfamiliar face, someone who was clearly not Clan.
"If you wish," she said. The woman, her dark blonde hair glistening in the afternoon sun, nodded in thanks and sat down next to her, gracefully folding herself onto the beach.
"This is a lovely beach," the woman said, running her fingers through the sand.
"What brings you here?" Sophia asked. "To this beach?"
"I can't go home, so I've been wandering up and down the coast for the last few weeks. It's very peaceful."
"Why cannot you go home?" Sophia asked. "I believe anyone who wishes can leave the Dragon lands now."
"I haven't really wanted to ask, but I'm sure they'll know," she said, pointing at two young women, dressed in the red uniform of the Clan peacekeepers. "I'm just glad they allow me the freedom to sit and talk with a pretty woman."
"I am curious," Sophia said. "If you do not mind, I shall ask them."
"Be my guest," the woman said, leaning back and watching the waves.
Sophia waved the two over.
"Yes, Lady Sophia?" the shorter one said.
"This woman is a prisoner?" Sophia asked her.
"That is not quite accurate," the taller said. "Cassandra July is being kept here for her own safety. The Lady Shadow is concerned that she might attract unwanted attention from certain quarters."
"And you cannot tell me what that might be," Sophia said.
"We are not authorized to share that information, though, as one of the Nine, you can override that authorization."
"No, I won't interfere in your work," Sophia said. "Is she allowed to keep me company?"
"Yes, ma'am," the shorter one, clearly in charge, said. "If not she would have not been allowed on this beach or within several kilometers of yourself."
"Thank you for your time," Sophia said. "I believe we are fine like this."
"As you wish, Lady Sophia," she said, withdrawing with her companion out of sight.
"You are someone important, aren't you?" Cassy said, blushing. "I should just go."
"We are all important in some way," Sophia said. "Your presence is welcome. Your escorts make it clear that you are important to someone."
"I am just a washed up old theater performer," Cassy said, staring down at her feet, "who was some place she shouldn't have been."
"You are not old," Sophia said, gently squeezing her hand.
"If they even remember me, the lights of Broadway only know me as a fool who spoiled her one chance at fame," Cassy said, not looking up. "And my students are probably very glad to never see me again."
"I'm sure there are those who speak of you fondly, Cassandra," Sophia said. "What do you teach?"
"It's Cassy," she said.
Sophia shook her head, speaking softly. "Cassandra, you shall always be. It is a name of honor."
"If I still have a job when I am allowed to go home, I teach dance to future stage performers," Cassy said, blushing.
"Dancing is a time honored tradition in the Clan, though I very rarely do more than the traditional dances," Sophia said.
"Dance serves many purposes," Cassy told her, rising gracefully to her feet and holding out a hand. "It's a form of communication that uses the whole body."
Placing her hand in Cassandra's, Sophia allowed herself to be pulled up to a standing position. "We don't have music," she said.
"We have the music of the waves," Cassy said. "Anything else with this beach would feel wrong. This is a simple dance. Follow me." Closing her eyes, she seemed to listen for a moment and then she began to move. She seemed to almost float along the beach to an inner music only she could hear.
"I cannot follow you," Sophia said. "Your movement is an offering to the gods. My presence would taint your gift."
"No, don't think of it like that," Cassy said, her movements slowing slightly, as she once more held out her hand. "If the gods are watching, all movement is a gift to them."
"Your gods must be close by," Sophia said.
"I am an artist," Cassy said. "Not always a good or happy one, but the gods who guide artists are always close by. Join me. Please?"
Saying a prayer to her own gods that they not laugh at her efforts, Sophia took her hand and tried to follow along. After a few stumbling steps, she found herself moving with Cassandra in a natural fashion.
"They are cute together," Brittany whispered, watching them on the view screen. "I think this will be good for both of them."
"How so?" said Rachel. "Sophia is already very grounded. She wouldn't be our Weaver otherwise. Cassy July is a loose canon. There are YouTube channels devoted to her crazy behavior over the years. More than Sue has."
"She's also sober for the first time in years. You know I wouldn't have set her loose if she couldn't handle it. Especially near Sophia."
"I'm still not sure why you didn't want to stick her on ice like the others," Rachel said.
"Of all of them, she is the truly innocent party. There is no reason to keep her locked up," Brittany said. "It's better to let her remain free. If we need her, we can easily find her."
"Mr. Schue wasn't a Black Hat either," Rachel said.
"But his motives weren't the purest," Brittany said. "They never have been. He was always more concerned about himself."
"Someone will miss him, eventually," Rachel said. "Doesn't he have a wife?"
"Ex-wife," Brittany said. "She's a little crazy. She faked being pregnant to get him to stay. It didn't work out but it was a close call."
"That is a little crazy. Won't she come looking for him if she is that clingy or misguided?" Rachel asked.
"She won't be allowed in the enclave, if she ever shows up, which is unlikely. But he isn't here anyway," Brittany said.
"How do you keep track of all these people and their attachments?" Rachel wondered.
"I'm naturally talented," Brittany said. "It's not just my hair."
"We should leave them to their dance," Rachel said, sighing. "I'm not sure about the two of them but it is romantic. More romance than I've seen in a long time."
"Quinn will get there," Brittany said. "There's a romantic under that hard suit just waiting to come out."
"It's been ages since she knew that I'd like to be more than just a friend," Rachel said. "And still nothing. Maybe it's time to move on?"
"Move on to what?" Brittany said. "You two are already soul mates. And you did that friendship commitment ceremony. And you talked when we saw Mother!"
"It wasn't about us," Rachel said. "She wanted advice about something personal."
"Communicating means you're moving forward," Brittany said. "It's progress. Quinn never asks for advice like that."
"You may think that but until Quinn shows some real sign that she feels the same, I'm just treading water," Rachel said sadly. "I don't need to see this right now." Getting up from her chair, Rachel left the room.
"Quinn, you need to speed things up," Brittany said to herself. "Screen off," she said, before leaving the room herself.
"And what did you do to earn Brit's 'evil eye'," Santana asked Quinn, flopping down next to her in the Chichen Itza command center locker room, after watching her two favorite blondes spar. Normally, she would have enjoyed watching them going at each other, but there had been something almost vicious about Brittany's moves.
"No idea," Quinn said, moving slower than normal. "But it must have been something big. This is going to hurt for days."
"Just be glad your pain threshold and healing factor has been ratcheted up," Santana said. "That beating she gave you would have hurt for months back when we were under Sue's thumb."
"Do you know what set her off?" Quinn asked, wincing as she pulled her t-shirt over her head. "Should I be investing in a flower garden?"
"Quinn! Quinn! Where are you?" Rachel's voice echoed in the room.
"Now what," Quinn muttered.
"What happened?" Rachel said, stopping in front of them. "You look horrible. Does it hurt?" she asked, poking a large bruise on Quinn's shoulder.
"Ow!" Quinn said loudly. "Of course it hurts!"
"She's more bruise than anything," Santana said. "I think I'll leave you to her," she said. "Think I'll go check on the other half."
"What happened," Rachel asked, watching Santana walk away, almost skipping. "She seemed happy about something."
"Brittany happened," Quinn said. "She was in a mood this afternoon and used me as her punching bag."
"Oh, Quinn, I'm so sorry," Rachel said.
"Do you know what's wrong?" Quinn said, struggling to reach around and undo her bra clasp.
"Let me get that for you," Rachel said, closing her eyes and reaching out, trying to help.
"Watch what you're doing!" Quinn said, dodging a poke in the eye.
"But you'll be naked," Rachel said, eyes still closed.
"You've seen me naked before," Quinn said. "It's just a bra."
"Yeah, but you were drunk or asleep," Rachel said. "This is different."
"Not seeing it," Quinn said, finally unhooking it and hunching forward to let it slip off her shoulders.
"Well I am," Rachel said, peeking between her fingers. "A little too much."
"Breasts, Rachel," Quinn said. "We both have them."
"Not like that," Rachel said, stepping back out of the way as Quinn stood up. "You'd make a goddess jealous."
Quinn looked down at her chest. "That would be an exaggeration," she said. "Or you need your eyes checked."
"Nope," Rachel said, blushing. "We'll talk later. I need to go have a chat with someone."
"Okay," Quinn said, watching her hurrying out of the locker room. Shaking her head, she slowly headed towards the showers. Hopefully, Brittany had gotten whatever it was out of her system, because Quinn wasn't sure she could take another round like that one any time soon.
Rachel found Brittany and Santana sitting at the top of one of the unrestored Chichen Itza temples. Santana had her arms wrapped around her girlfriend, who looked like she'd been crying. They were staring out into the jungle.
"What happened back there?" Rachel asked, sitting next to them. "Why does Quinn look like she just went fifty rounds with Rocky?"
"I thought it would help," Brittany said, sniffling. "You'd see her all beat up and take care of her. But I didn't like it. I feel dirty. And you're here, not with her, so it was pointless violence. I beat up one of my best friends for no reason!"
"Oh Brittany," Rachel said, wrapping her arms around both of them, the crying Brittany and a silent Santana. "You need to let her get there on her own."
"I thought she could use a little push," Brittany said, hiccuping. "But she probably has no idea, does she."
"No. She thinks you were just having a bad day and needed someone to take it out on."
"I would never do that to her," Brittany said.
"Brit, if you needed that, we would all let you vent on us," Santana said. "You know we would gladly do that for you. Even Shorty here."
"Yes," said Rachel. "Of course."
"Never," Brittany said. "I would never ask for that."
"But we would do it," Rachel said. "Without a thought. You're our Brit and we would do anything for you."
"I don't feel so good," Brittany said softly. "San? Can we go home now?"
"Of course," Santana said, pulling her away from Rachel. "We won't be able to make it to dinner tonight," she said.
"Of course," Rachel said. "There'll be other dinners other times." She stayed standing until she had the night air to herself, with the occasional rustling of the bushes in the light wind.
"Hey!" she said loudly, trying to get Quinn's attention, spotting her walking along the edge of the city. Turning, Quinn started walking in her direction after spotting her high up on the pyramid.
"Where'd Brittany go?" Quinn asked, sitting down next to her.
"Santana took her home," Rachel said. "She was very tired. Apparently, someone gave her an unexpected workout this afternoon."
"What are your plans for tonight," Quinn asked idly, taking Rachel's hand in her own, and ignoring Rachel's hint.
"My dads, my mother and your sister are all at the new club on the beach," Rachel said. "So, my plans don't actually exist tonight. I was going to have dinner with Brittany and Santana but something came up and they canceled so I made other plans."
"If you need someone to have dinner with, I'm free," Quinn said. "Though I'm not quite up for dancing at the moment."
"I'd love to have dinner with you," Rachel said. "There's this new restaurant near the beach. Very exclusive. Just you, me and the chef and a guest."
"Who's the chef?"
"Sophia was going to cook a traditional Mayan dinner," Rachel said.
"And the guest?"
"It's a surprise," Rachel said.
"We're not crashing a romantic evening between Sophia and a friend are we?" Quinn asked.
"Possibly," Rachel said, giggling, "though they might not realize it."
"So, this is something new?"
"Very," Rachel said. "We should get going so we aren't late."
"Where is it?" Quinn asked.
"Sophia's old house," Rachel said. "It's just a short walk from here."
"Ah, that's right," Quinn said. "She was headed here when we first met."
"You and Brittany," Rachel said. "I didn't meet her until later. It must have been a huge surprise."
"Surprise?"
"Yes, they were coming to Chichen Itza for the annual sacrifice to the gods, and they get here, and meet what they thought were their gods. A surprise. It'd be like you going to Bethlehem and running into one of the three old wise men."
"Why would I be going to Bethlehem?" Quinn asked, puzzled.
"It was an analogy," Rachel said. "I have no idea why you'd be in Bethlehem. Maybe to fight some Crusaders?"
"They'd have no chance, their armor against one of our hard suits," Quinn said. "It'd be a slaughter."
"So, it's a good thing you aren't in Bethlehem," Rachel said, giggling.
"Especially a thousand years ago," Quinn said. "Two thousand years ago, it'd be Roman legionnaires. Those guys might have given us some trouble."
"Really?" Rachel said.
"Well, no," Quinn said. "Not a chance. But they were tougher than the Crusaders."
"Think any of the Clan ran into them?"
"Unlikely," Quinn said. "No matter what Artie and his ancient alien friends say. That would be too much of a coincidence. There might have been actual aliens running around back then but they certainly wouldn't have helped the Romans or Egyptians with any of their building projects."
"No," Rachel said, nodding. "The Clan might have offered them some advice but build things for them? No."
"Welcome to my humble home," Sophia said, greeting them at the door to the low wooden structure and waving them in. Looking around, they found themselves in a large area below ground level.
"Oh my," Rachel said, sitting on a low wooden bench. "This is an interesting design. It must stay a lot cooler here."
"Yes," said Sophia. "It's a traditional design for this climate."
"How well does it work during the heavy rains?" Quinn asked.
"Drainage is a very important part of the design," Sophia said. "Our people have been building houses this way for over a thousand years."
"Is the whole house set this low?" Rachel said. "Including your kitchen?"
"The kitchen is a little different than you might be used to," Sophia said. "There is a cooking pit out behind the house."
"A cookout every night? I could get used to that," Rachel said.
"Not if you had to do all of the cooking," Quinn said.
"No, you would get to do it," Rachel said, smirking. "I'm sure with all of your ancestral domestic skills there is the ability to cook over a fire."
"You'll never know," Quinn said. "I prefer using a stove. Grilling over a real fire is for special occasions, not every day."
"See what I have to put up with?" Rachel told Sophia. "Some of our best chefs are Quinns, but the original won't cook for me."
"I suspect you will find an incentive to encourage her," Sophia said.
"Rachel said a friend of yours would be joining us?" Quinn said. "A close friend? She didn't know."
"Someone I met at our private beach," Sophia said. "I believe you already know her?"
"Oh! Her?" Rachel said. "She could really use a friend. How are the two of you getting along?"
"It is interesting," Sophia said, "how she seems so sure of her abilities but is afraid to share them."
"Well… what happened to her is often used as a cautionary tale for budding stage actors," Rachel said.
"Who are we talking about?" Quinn asked.
"Cassandra July," Rachel said. "She was given parole, you might remember."
"With two of Coach's peace keepers following her around? Yes, I remember," Quinn said. "She's been staying out of trouble. She hasn't been bothering you, Sophia?"
"Not at all," Sophia said. "She wandered onto my beach and has returned several times. I find her interesting."
"She has an extreme form of stage fright, if Brittany's information is accurate, and it usually is," Rachel said. "She had a meltdown on opening night of her first, and only, Broadway musical. She's been unable to go on stage since, without freezing."
"She seemed slightly off when we interviewed her," Quinn said. "So, high pressure situations in front of an audience aren't her thing?"
"No," Rachel said. "Oddly enough, if I had ever gone to college, instead of becoming who I am, it probably would have been her school and I would have taken one of her classes."
"Let's not tell her that," Quinn said.
"Of course not," Rachel. "I just find it to be an interesting coincidence. When do you expect her to arrive?"
"She seems to have no real concept of the passage of time," Sophia said. "I spoke with the Clan medicine woman who'd been treating her and it seems to be a side effect of her alcoholism and the gas used to capture her and the others."
"Oh," Quinn said, frowning. "There shouldn't have been any long term effects of that drug on ordinary humans."
"But she has a very small percentage of Clan blood," Rachel said. "Hopefully that can be fixed. An artist of her calibre must find it difficult to have problems keeping time. And don't blame yourself, Quinn. There's no way you could have known this would happen."
"She seems resigned to it," Sophia said. "We found her a good timepiece and that seems to help a little."
"But not if I don't check it constantly," Cassy said, coming into the room from the kitchen. "And yes, I am finding it difficult to have my sense of timing not functioning correctly. I don't know if I can go back to being a teacher if it continues."
"I'm sorry, Miss July," Quinn said.
"Why would it be your fault? Because you weren't the one who decided to gas that meeting," she said. "And, if you had, would you have known that I'm one in a million who is affected by it?"
"They used it on my mother, and it took her weeks to recover," Quinn said.
"They used it on me, and I recovered quickly," Rachel said. "So you couldn't have known. It affects those with Clan blood in different ways."
"You can't blame yourself or anyone else," Cassy said. "I was there for my own reasons. They might have tricked me into being there but they didn't force me."
"When is she going to be allowed to go home?" Sophia asked.
"It's really up to Brittany," Quinn said. "Once she is satisfied that the Black Hats are no longer in play, I suspect."
"I would rather stay here," Cassy said. "The weather appears so much nicer. And I prefer the company to that of my students."
"I think you should talk with our educational consultants," Rachel said. "They've been putting together a new curriculum for the Clan children and the arts are a very important part of that."
"If you think it would be a good idea," Cassy said. "I'm not sure my methods would be welcome. I don't believe in sparing feelings or going easy on my students."
"Neither do our consultants," Rachel said. "If you like, I can introduce you to them tomorrow. I have a lunch meeting with them."
"That would be appreciated," Cassy said. "That smells wonderful," she said, as Sophia brought out a large steaming dish from the kitchen.
"It is a traditional dish for large family gatherings" Sophia said.
"What's it called?" Rachel asked.
"It actually has no 'name' as such," Sophia said. "It's name in Mayan simply means 'dish served to honored family members and to welcome newcomers'."
"So, it's a 'welcome to the neighborhood' casserole," Quinn said. "It does smell wonderful."
"That was an interesting evening," Rachel said, as they walked back to the base. "What do you think of her?"
"Interesting," Quinn said. "But odd."
"Odd?"
Quinn shrugged. "Are you going to introduce her to your mother?"
"I suspect they know each other already," Rachel said. "They both hit Broadway at the same time, and neither had much luck. Poor Cassy had a very public meltdown, and my mother couldn't get any major roles after her first."
"Do you regret not making it to Broadway?" Quinn asked, stopping. "It was your dream for years."
"I don't regret where I am now," Rachel said. "When I was ten, there was no way that I could have imagined my life now. I spend more time with powerful people, politicians, artists, scientists, and you guys, now, than I could have conceived of. If I want to talk to the president, I call him up. I've met with the Pope. I haven't talked with the Queen of England yet, but the next time you see her I'm hiding in your suitcase."
"But that isn't Broadway," Quinn said. "as much power as you have now, it's not the same thing. Do you miss not having that opportunity?"
"No," Rachel said. "Not after seeing what it did to my mother and Cassy. It's a cruel business. No matter how talented you might be, it can chew you up and spit you out, permanently damaged."
"Do you think she should have a place in our Clan?" Quinn asked. "You have the best perspective out of all of us. You know more about who we are as a people. Does she fit or even can she? Or should we throw her into the deep freeze with the others."
"She adds flavor," Rachel said. "The Clans have traditionally valued the quirky, outlandish, and crazy members. We're all a bit too well adjusted I think. We might have a crazy Mother stashed away, living in a virtual world, but who else is there to give us that different perspective?"
"Each one of us on the Council brings a unique perspective," Quinn said. "But if you think she's valuable I won't argue, but I really don't see it."
"No? Well then, think of it this way, she makes Sophia happy. She brings out something in Sophia, makes her more relatable," Rachel said.
"She does?" Quinn said. "I haven't spent a lot of time with her to notice a difference."
"It's there," Rachel said, grinning. "Their first meeting was a classic 'meet cute' moment."
"Does Sophia know that you've been spying on her?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We weren't spying on her, exactly," Rachel said, grabbing Quinn's hand and pulling her along. "Someone noticed a possible collision between Sophia and Cassy and asked Brittany what to do."
"Didn't we decide July was harmless?" Quinn asked. "That whatever the reason she was at that meeting, she wasn't a Black Hat? Unlike St. James."
"Yes, but Sophia is our new Weaver, so they were being extra cautious," Rachel said.
"Okay," Quinn said. "I can see that. But I think Sophia can take care of herself. She's a master of Te Itza Quan."
"Would you want to do that again?" Rachel asked, several minutes later.
"Have dinner with Sophia and July? I don't see why not," Quinn said. "July has that odd sense of humor but it seems to work with Sophia's quietness. We might want to do the inviting next time."
"Of course," Rachel said. "And we need to make sure to include Sophia in our other group activities. I know we've been inviting her to our weekly dinner parties but we need to do more than that. She should feel like she's part of the Council."
"Well, it's too late to undo it," Quinn said. "It's a lifelong position. She can't be unCounciled."
"Of course not," Rachel said. "And the Galactic Council probably wouldn't let us anyway. We don't have the authority yet to make those kinds of decisions."
"When will we?"
"When we have the full Council," Rachel said. "Once we're a full 9, we can determine our own membership. Of course, by that time it won't matter."
Putting down her tablet, Rachel stared up at the ceiling in her small office.
"Artie?"
"Yes, Lady Memory?"
"Are we going to need the remaining three members of the Council? And who would we pick?"
"For your plan to succeed?"
"Yes, our decade long plan to prepare this planet for war," Rachel said.
"Current estimation is no," Artie said. "But who you would pick for the remaining three is an interesting question."
"We've got Quinn, the Hand; Santana, the Breath/Lady Air; Brittany, the Shadow; me, the Memory; Sophia, the Weaver, our religious leader, and the Mother, our heart. We don't have the Healer, the Teacher, or the Peace."
"The remaining members are primarily symbolic, though they do provide important aspects of the Council," Artie said. "But you already have those aspects filled, in part. The Teacher is being fulfilled by your mother, the Lady Shelby, and Lady Quinn's sister. Lady Sylvester is acting as the Peace."
"So we don't need the Teacher and the Peace because they are filling those roles, at least as far as we need them," Rachel said. "What about the Healer? Won't we need someone before the Enemy appears? We will be fighting and our people will get injured."
"The Healer is not primarily a medical expert, although in the past the persons fulfilling that role on the Council often had a background in medicine. The Healer looked after the mental health of the Clan."
"Okay, but don't we still need a healer? I know we have a number of trained medical personnel in the Fleet, but this seems to go beyond that," Rachel said.
"There are medicine women trained in dealing with the mind, not just the body, of the individual," Artie said. "But the health of the Clan itself is different. Much as the Weaver is more than a priestess and the Mother more than just the Clan protector and center."
"I understand that the Council of Nine is more than the sum of its parts, but I think I'm missing something here. It feels like you are making it all up on the spot," Rachel said, sighing.
"Each Clan handles their Council of Nine in a different way," Artie said. "For some, the Council members have concrete roles to play, much as you've done, while in others, such as the Tiger Clan, the Council of Nine was largely ceremonial. Clans with active Councils are healthier, the Galactic Council has determined."
"Well, at least we're doing something right," Rachel said. "So, if we don't absolutely need a Healer, how will we know if someone is a good candidate. It's not like with Sophia, where she was already headed that way."
"To use a phrase popular among your people, 'you'll know it when you see it'," Artie said. "When you encounter the person destined to be the Healer, it will be obvious that that is who they are."
"Helpful," Rachel said, refraining from shouting. "So, it'll happen when it happens."
"Yes," Artie said. "If you needed the Healer, as was shown with the Weaver, the best candidate would appear. The mechanism that causes this effect is not very well understood so I cannot tell you what to look for."
"Okay," Rachel said. "So, a new Healer will appear as if by magic."
"Yes," Artie said. "Or by some unknown scientific principle, if using the word 'magic' is a problem."
"I'm sure Santana would be jumping up and down if she knew you were calling something you don't understand magic."
"We have come to an understanding of such things," Artie said.
"So, you ignore each other," Rachel said.
"Correct."
"I really can't see her being a priestess," Rachel said.
"She could do it, if she had to," Brittany said, leaning against the door. Rachel jumped in surprise at her sudden appearance.
"I'll have to take your word for it," Rachel said, after calming down. "I can't see her being able to handle that kind of interaction with our people without you there."
"No," Brittany said. "You're right about that. But we'll never tell her, right Artie?"
"Yes, Lady Shadow," Artie said.
"And Rache? Don't worry about our Healer," Brittany said. "The All will provide, as Artie said."
"You already know who that would be, don't you," Rachel said. "Who?"
"Not telling," Brittany said, winking at her, before turning and leaving her office.
"Brittany!" Rachel yelled. "Do you know who she has in mind?" she asked Artie.
"I am unaware of such things," Artie said.
"Of course you aren't," Rachel said, sighing and looking down at her tablet. She had plenty of other things to work out.