2022-05-08 - Coast to Coast AM

No.

Sleep.

'Til Vegas.

Once she decided to go, Nic made really short work of getting ready to go. While Myles was off getting an air mattress, she was gassing up the Dodge and loading up with the practiced efficiency of someone for whom leaving at a moment's notice is a long-practiced art, mastered to the point where she may have a bag packed already anyway just in case. There could've been some discussion about which vehicle to bring but given that hers is retired Nevada Highway Dept issue and a fair bit of their travels are going to be in and through Nevada... well.

It was after dark when she made this decision, late getting later, but that just means split shift driving, someone at the wheel and someone napping in the shotgun seat. Every fuel break is lengthened by a bit of leg-stretching for Lady, a walk to the end of whatever truckstop parking lot there is and back. In lieu of music there's the dulcet tones of George Noory on Coast to Coast AM which suddenly seems less like a bunch of paranoid whackjobs providing entertainment by spinning insane conspiracy theories and maybe more like a hotline for glowy people, but it's about all she can find to listen to. Apparently. It does mean there's no need for conversation, at least until daylight starts to break over the Rockies: she stubbornly resists that either by just not answering or by sleeping, depending on which split of the shift she has at any given moment.

Daylight, however, seems to change her mood a little, as when the SUV pulls into the next parking lot she finally asks, "You want to stop for a little while and get breakfast?"

Myles has done a good bit of sleeping. In the passenger seat. At one point he crawled-- his huge hulking mass-- over his seat so he could visit Lady. Myles may have felt Nicasia thought he couldn't do it. Though the act there was a lot of yelling and even Lady looked concerned at points. But eventually he was able to lay with her for a little while. Though the care was pulled over for Myles to return to the passenger seat.

A little bit of agitation was expressed with the radio. But mostly the big man has just tuned it out at this point. His eyes flicker open not because of her words, but because he can feel the car slowing down. His eyes are fluttering open and closed. He's barely awake but his question is already,

"Tables outside?"

He doesn't like making Lady sit in the car while they eat and the chances of him wanting breakfast are heavily influenced by whether or not Lady can join them. He's slowly sitting forward, looking around. She likely hasn't even chosen a place, but he's still looking around for any sort of tables outside.

"Sure." It's an easy give. It's a rest stop. There are picnic tables, some of them covered, though the weather is just overcast not actually threatening any precipitation. Yet. The grey shade may have something to do with the hour, too; it's not long after dawn and they still have some hours to go. Nic hasn't even busted out the 'if we'd just gone straight to Salt Lake we'd be there already' argument, but maybe she's happy to be there Sunday instead of Saturday. Maybe she just wants an extra day or two of good food.

The food here will not be good but it's a step up from convenience store goods.

What's telling about this is that she's doing a very good job of not looking at Myles. It's subtle. There are a lot of other things to pay attention to, like enormous semis and sleepy passenger vehicles, to stray people tottering through the parking lot, to the math of trying to pick the ideal place to leave the vehicle for a little while relative to the food and whatever grassy spot is going to give the dog a chance to stretch her legs. Not looking at but also not wholly ignoring outright anymore. She does turn the radio off, at least. "You still okay with this?"

You still okay with this?

Myles looks over to Nicasia, if he's picking up on her not looking at him, he makes no show or complaint. He doesn't answer immediately, though. He's been practically vibrating. If anything he's been trying to subdue himself, to make himself seem less thrilled. Even if Myles being thrilled looks very different than the average person.

He lets out a slow breath, looking over to her. He grunts quietly, avoiding the question for now. "Ava said that if we fuck on her air mattress she doesn't want it back." Myles rumbles with a roll of his eyes. "It offended me on multiple levels all at once." He's placing his hand on the handle in anticipation of fully stopping, looking over at her expectantly.

They both read thrilled different than the average person, but excitement comes in all sorts of different flavors. Nicasia's version just happens to be particularly tense; if she's vibrating it's for a different reason.

Maybe it helps that he doesn't answer the question and goes for a different approach instead. One that makes her snort in indignation. "It offended you?" Incredulous, too. "Did you tell her we're not gonna fuck on her air mattress?" There's a beat of silence before the punchline. "We'd pop it." She doesn't actively wait for the retort, but does open her own door and rolls out onto her feet with a little groan and tilt of her head, like the last hundred miles or something have put a kink in her neck somewhere. "Should be in Vegas by noon. And then... we can figure out what's next." One step at a time.

"No. I didn't say that. I felt like she put me in a corner. I asked her why she assumed we fuck. Reminded her we're divorced." He grunts, bringing up his broad shoulders. They'd pop it. He screws up his brows as if he hadn't thought about this. He grunts quietly. They just well may. "I feel like whether we give it back to her or don't give it back to her, we're givin' her some kind of intel now. Because she said that. She set us up." He scowls.

But then they're getting out of the car, and Myles is immediately opening up the back door to let Lady out. "Hey baby." He murmurs so fondly while closing the door behind her. He bends down to give some scratches, not bothering with the leash just yet.

"They have church for like three fuckin' hours." Myles rumbles, low. "Tomorrow. Figure that'd be a good time to see." Did he go to their church already? MAYBE. Though he's scowling a little. "Fuck." As if remembering something.

"Gotta dress up kinda nice for their church. Like a tie and a dress and shit." He looks over at her, skeptical that she packed a dress. Even more skeptical that potential dress would be passable for a Mormon church.

Some part of that sparks the drought-dry tinder of Nicasia's anger; it flares up for a moment, ready to throw down, but she slams the door extra hard instead and takes a deep breath. "It's none of her business either way," she agrees, which would be a defuse of her own wrath but then she throws in the "Should've told her she could keep it," and maybe that doesn't help after all. "Painted you into that corner real good, huh?"

Lady is so happy to be out of the car. So happy. But she is a VERY GOOD GIRL and doesn't go running off; she tries so hard to sit at Myles' feet but her butt almost doesn't touch the ground because the swishswishswish of her tail is practically anti-gravity.

Then comes the other bit and Nic stops, turning to look at him, like he's serious. "Church?" Then, "Three fucking hours?" Then, "I can't go. At any given moment I'm breaking at least half of the ten commandments; I'd burst into flame as soon as I stepped over the threshold or whatever." That would be a big fat N O on the dress, though the odds are just as good that he packed a tie and dress shirt. She stares over the hood of the SUV at him, eyes narrowing. "Wait, are you serious? Wouldn't it be easier just to catch them on the way in, the way out?"

Myles looks up at Nicasia, her words just get a grunt from him as his hands move over Lady's head. Scratching and scritching vigorously. "Come on, baby." Opening the passenger door, he goes to take the leash from the dash. The door is closed once more as he looks across the SUV over to Nicasia. There's a big roll of his eyes when she says she would burst into flames.

"Yeah big badass over here." He rumbles dryly. But yes. He's serious. "I'm not saying we go for three hours, Nico. I'm sayin' the family is fixed in one place, for three fuckin' hours. And at times in those three hours? The kids are away from their parents. In their own little sunday school. I'm tellin' you, we have an optimal field for the target. Potential for isolation to make sure we can see what we need. And you're saying no because-- what?"

"If I can make it work in a white ass mormon ass church, so can you."

"Do you even know the ten commandments?" And, "You don't imagine that someone, among all those many, many happy shiny smiling Mormons, someone's gonna not gonna wonder why..." Full stop. Mark today on the calendar because this is twice in the same conversation where Nicasia has caught herself and dialed it way back, bit her lip and swallowed her words and decided that line of argument wasn't worth it. TWICE. There may not be a third time.

Lady doesn't need a leash, but there are laws. Alas. She's happy just to be out of the car, happy to keep herself glued to someone's left leg. Probably Myles' since he's the one who gives her all the secret snacks.

The whole routine is watched for a couple of moments before Nic shakes her head. "So we're going to have to go shopping in Vegas? I mean, I guess you having to wear a suit might be worth it. As long as we don't have to sit through three-plus hours of it." It's like a compromise, sort of. Misery for both, and for a good cause.

"Nah, no one's gonna wonder why, Nico. They're gonna be as excited as fuck. Cause I'm a big black dude, who chose to come to their church. And they want me to like their shit. They want to impress me. All on the surface, obviously. But they'll be all about me, because I'm a novelty and that's exciting."

The leash is attached to the collar. Myles straightens up and shakes his head. "We'll attend the beginnin' and find some time where we can look at her for a minute. So we can be sure. Away from the parents." Beat. "Not gonna wear a suit. Just a shirt and a tie. Fits the ex-con lookin' for redemption thing they all probably assume I am." He rumbles with a quiet laugh. "You should do that too. Nice but, cheap nice. Like: 'Aw bless their hearts they tried'."

Definitely not gonna happen a third time.

"You just gonna milk that for all you can get out of it? Them all tryin' to ply you with pamphlets and brochures and coffee and danishes? Trying to save your novel black soul?" There's a snort and it isn't actually amusement. But he just keeps right on going and it's at the very end that Nicasia finally loses it.

"Nice, but cheap nice? Are you fucking serious?" He is, isn't he. But so is she, with a sharp left pivot into, "I got a better idea. How about you go looking all prime and single, like lonely prey and they can fawn all over you, and I'll sneak in the back and look around while they're all distracted and get the fuck out of Dodge before they start passing around kool-aid." There's more but it's almost entirely under her breath. A lot of bullshit about overcomplicating things and church and Mother's Day fucking nonsense, none of it exactly clear or audible, partially because she's now headed for the building to go see what exactly the breakfast options are.

Myles looks up with a scowl. But he falls silent. Not answering. Not immediately. He'll let him order something for him. She knows what he'll get just as well as he would. Instead he goes to walk Lady without a word, walking the parking lot before he'll finally bring the dog back to one of the outdoor tables, settling down to wait for Nicasia.

It's maybe fifteen minutes before she makes it out of the building, which can't have all been spent pondering the menu and waiting in line - it's a chain fast food place and there aren't enough cars to make a line - but that scarcely matters. She has a paper bag and a carrier with three cups in it; two coffee, one water with no ice in it. This, of course, is for Lady: she pops the top off and holds it down near ground level so the dog can lap some of it up, all without much in the way of further attempts at conversation. But what's there to converse about when there's grease on offer? Hashbrowns and egg-adjacent sandwiches: not exactly the breakfast of champions, but that story is in a different book.

Nic sits on the other side of the table, half-turned away so that she can stretch her legs out and can look at the mountains, arid and now faintly brushed by morning light. So very unlike last night's boardwalk that it might almost be unbelievable that they were there not that long ago.

When she does speak - and she will again, if he doesn't get there first - it is a different conversation all together. "You know, I sorta wondered if we were going to hit some kind of invisible wall on the way out."

Myles lets out a huff of a breath as she speaks. His hands going to search out the hash browns first and foremost. Breaking apart a piece. He takes a bite. Before picking up his coffee cup. There's a muttered thanks as he picks apart some sausage. This he doesn't hide. He glances up to Nicasia.

"She's gotta be hungry." He rumbles low as he starts to lower a chunk of sausage down to Lady, pausing to make sure Nicasia doesn't get upset.

He lets out a quiet laugh. "They all really hype up that hotel california bullshit don't they?" He gives a shrug. "Maybe it's true. For them. Maybe it's true as long as you don't wanna leave and it's a good way for them to make themselves feel better about stayin' in a crazy ass place."

"Her food's in the car," is Nic's counter but there's no particular malice in it, just, "Sausage isn't very good for her." It's gonna be his guilty conscience, not hers. Anyway once there's sausage the water is less interesting; she wipes her hand on her leg and goes for her coffee as well.

Then, "They really do. And maybe it is true; it's not like we're not going to have to go back in a couple of days." She hesitates, peers into the tiny hole on the top of that plastic lid like it's the eye of a magic eight ball. "Well. We could just stay in Vegas. Wouldn't be the first time. But... fuck, I'm not really ready to throw in the towel yet. We just got there. It's not that crazy a place, is it?"

"Just a little." He rumbles. "It makes her so happy."

The sausage is lowered to Lady, his lips curling up into a warm smile. He flicks his eyes back up to her, taking a sip of his coffee. "We don't have shit in Vegas." Beat. "Cept for an air mattress that we can't or definitely should fuck on." He gives a small shake of his head. Myles grunts quietly. "It's pretty fuckin' crazy Nico. Don't know what the fuck you're sayin'."

He's quiet though for a moment. Looking up to her. "But... Nah. I don't think we should quit just yet."

Nicasia rolls her eyes just a little at the happy man and his happy dog but she doesn't take it away or take it back, just leans.

"We don't have shit in Vegas because we put all our chips on Gray Harbor. Doesn't mean we couldn't start over. We have people in Vegas, at least." Which might be more than can be said for the other place. Maybe. When she laughs, and she will, it's a stark little burst of sound. "It is pretty fucking crazy," she admits. "And apparently it draws crazy like some kind of whacko-magnet, which I suppose should make me wonder about us." Us. Here, at last, her gaze slides over to him. Slightly sidelong. She ends up meeting his eyes in the process and doesn't retreat, but it is a moment before she continues.

The second part comes with a tiny shrug. "I like feeling like we have options, you know?"

"We could come back to Vegas if we wanted to." Myles rumbles lowly, bobbing his head. "We do okay running Safe Harbor for a while? We could fuckin' sell it. Get it out of the red and shit. Sell it. Go back to Vegas." He takes another bite of hash browns. "Maybe start our own thing in Vegas.. Sure as fuck wouldn't have to kiss Mel's ass anymore." He looks down at his coffee.

"And-- I donno. I know it aint been perfect but--" Another bite. "Things have been a little.." He shrugs before delivering the rest, casually. "Things've been a little better for us. There. So far."

It's a fine setup. See, Nic is so busy pondering the first part of this that it takes her a moment to trip and fall over the second part.

"We could," she agrees. "There's always gonna be a market for that, as long as people keep doing dumb shit. Humans never fail to disappoint." See, she's on board there. And then he so casually delivers the second piece and she stops entirely to stare at him for a long, long, long moment before her gaze flits away again. A reply starts to form up but she closes her eyes first and that keeps it in, at least until all of the edges have been shaved off, reducing it down to simple agreement. "So far." Then, "We always did do better when it was us against something else."

Myles lets out a quiet breath, amusement. Picking up his cup he takes another sip. "So maybe as long as we keep in constant danger we could..." His broad shoulders shrug. He takes a longer pull from his coffee. Looking away.

"I'm not over complicatin' it." Myles rumbles low. "You find shit. I go into places. I'm tellin' you it'll be easy if we just play the part. Take less than an hour. Alright? This is my half of our shit. Could you just trust me?"

Better not to dig too deep, lest one of them star to bleed.

Then he's asking her to trust him and she lets out what isn't quite a sigh but sure sounds like one. "Alright." And just like that she's relented. Maybe things are going better. A little.

But Nicasia, too, is looking away, off at the mountains again. They're convenient. A postcard backdrop for their perpetual drama. "Shouldn't be hard to find something secondhand. Just gotta find the right dress. Cheap like polyester, not cheap like I'm gonna take someone's husband home, right?" The tips of her teeth are visible. "Mormons are into that sisterwife shit, aren't they?"

"Not really cheap. Just-- What we wear isn't that important. You're right. Just.. Yeah. A thrift store would be fine. Just we want to sell that we're there checkin' things out because we probably feel like we're lookin' for that somethin to guide us. People will look at us at first cause we're a novelty, but they'll look away cause they don't wanna get caught staring."

He lets out a quiet laugh. "Not the normal ones. There's like cults and shit that broke off, but the main shit. Nah. Not anymore." Someone did some research. He looks across the table at her for a few moments, before looking back down to break off some more hash brown.

"Thanks."

Nic finally retrieves her hashbrown from the bag and breaks off a piece of it. The stuff was never meant to be finger food but there it is. "I don't know that I want people staring. If the Wards see us... I don't know. I don't think they'll recognize me, but they might, you know? And I guess I can play dumb in a pinch but that's a level of engagement I am not at all ready for yet."

Her gaze doesn't come back around until the end, and it brings a slight tilt of her head. Thanks. "For?"

"They won't recognize you." Myles rumbles with a shake of his head. "They won't recognize me. It'll be fine." He assures her. "They won't." He's so sure. So confident.

"Trusting me." Another long pull from his coffee before he eats the other half of the sausage patty he didn't give to Lady.

So sure. So confident. What could possibly go wrong.

"You're my... partner. I'm supposed to trust you." Nic goes back to looking at anything except Myles, rifling through the bag now for packets of ketchup and pepper. It's not quite hot sauce but there's only so much you can expect from a random highway rest stop. These are going on her sandwich, if for no other reason than because it gives her something to do.

He's quiet for a few long moments. Letting that drop. Looking down at his coffee.

"Think you can handle it?" Myles asks softly. "Seein' her?" He looks down at the table. "We can figure somethin' else out. If it's gonna be too much. We can just tail em all day. And wait. I just figure this'll be a cleaner shot."

"I want to see her," Nicasia answers. "I need to." There's more of an edge in that than she probably intended. There's a sliver of silence that cuts in, and when she continues, it's softer. "I never even got to hold her, you know that? They said it was easier on everybody that way. "

She sucks in a deep breath and lifts her shoulders, lifts her chin so that she can look up at the sky. The sun is finally up. It's clear and blue in a way their new old hometown can never achieve. "I still... think it was probably the right thing to do. And I'm still sorry for it. Every single day. So yeah. It might be too much, but..." There's nothing up there to see but she scans it anyway like she's searching for something. "...if I can't deal I'll get out."

Myles' features fall when she speaks about never getting to hold her. It probably came up at one point. Though they were likely yelling. Not talking.

When she says it was the right thing to do?

Myles goes still. He stops looking around. Stops moving and eating. Stops drinking. He just stills. He stares down at his table. His jaw tightens. He slowly looks up to her and gives a nod. If she can't deal she'll get out. "I'm gonna walk her." He rumbles lowly. He already did. But apparently he feels like she needs it once more. He takes another bite of sausage before going to stand up from the bench.

Lady is always up for another walk. Always. Even halfway through the last walk.

They've yelled about this, or something enough like it, enough times in the past that Nicasia doesn't say anything else. The sandwich is kind of a lost cause, too; just kind of there, open-faced, slathered in ketchup like some kind of weird crime scene or piece of modern art commentary.

She leaves it alone until Myles is thirty or so yards away, then gathers the whole lot up, shoves it back in the bag, and tosses the bag in the trash. He'll be forty yards away maybe by the time she makes it back to the SUV, but just to let herself into the passenger's seat, so she can curl up there under her coat and sleep. Or pretend to.

They play for a little. Myles lets her off leash when they find a section of grass-- well mostly dirt with a few weeds. They run around, with Lady prancing happily as Myles chases her around or in turn runs away from her. It goes on for a little while until finally she's led back to the car. WITHOUT HER LEASH ON.

The two rebels make their way back to the SUV. The back door is opened and Lady hops in. He goes to the passenger door to put the leash back in the glove box. Looking down at the woman pretending to be asleep there. He leans in, pressing his lips softly to her cheek. He'll let her continue to pretend. "Love you, baby." Her eyes are closed she's not looking at him. He could be talking to Lady. Or at least that's likely his alibi if called on it.

The door is closed and Myles heads for the drivers side.