I don't need...anything (Dom)

[Roderic]

I had both hands deep inside the belly of a moose when my phone vibrated on the table next to me. I glance over at the lit screen and ignore it. I don't answer numbers I don't know often, especially since I got a call from a BBB lady last week. But I especially don't answer numbers that don't show up. The private caller, or number unknown. I figure it's a wrong number and go back to removing the bowels of the large creature that I'm sitting in front of on the floor, covered by a painters drop cloth.

A few minutes go by and my phone lights up indicating a message. I pull out the liver of the beautiful creature and slap it down on the cloth next to me. I glare at the phone, slowly stand and move to wash my hands in the sink after discarding the gloves in the bin. Of course, gloves only go so far, so I have to wash the blood and other fluids off my entire arm, just to about where my elbow is. I take my time, scrubbing between my fingers, twice, then my arm twice and the backs of my hands; twice as well. I grab four paper towels and start to dry them when my phone goes off again.

“What the hell.” My brown eyes narrow as I walk over to the phone and see yet another unknown caller pop up, only this has an area code I recognize and isn't privatized. I toss the paper towel in the garbage and find myself in another time and place. It's hard to describe. I've not left, I know where I am, but it's almost as if I'm not there. Nothing changes around me, it's more like one of those episodes other people have. 'zoning out.' After the phone stops buzzing in its spot, I blink once, twice, three, and then four times before I move again.

They say home is where your heart is, and maybe that was true for most people. I've no affinity for home, the exception being my mom. I wish I could move her to Canada, but it's better she stays as far away from me as she can. She has my number and she uses it once in a while when she has money I send her to get her phone activated, but it wasn't her number. Same area code, but different number. So, why is someone from 'home' calling me?

I lean down and grab the phone and type in the code to hear my voice mail messages. Two new ones. The first is some detective by the name of Wolfson , asking me to give him a call back. Something to do with my mom. Had some questions for me. I'm hesitant. My mom might not be rich and might be living life a little roughly, but she isn't a law breaking type. She's actually pretty cut and dry and I'm sure if she knew what I was up to, my mom would die from a broken heart or something as equally dramatic that people say when they find out one of their loves ones is a big disappointment in regards to society.

I move past the message to the next one and my hands tighten around the phone. I'm surprised it doesn't break, because I heard the crunching of plastic in my hand. It's my grandma telling me to call her back. There's been a family emergency, but she won't say what. Or maybe she did, but I can't tell because she's crying on the phone. Not crying, sobbing uncontrollably. It's all fake. All of it. Just a big ******* show for whatever reason. Something to be gained. I delete her message and ignore the urge from her to call her back. I opt to call the detective back at the number he left on my voice mail.

“Franklin Police Department, Detective Kendall Wolfson.” I clear my throat and then identify myself. There's a long breath of air that comes from the other side, before he gets right down to it. I grab all the details I can get in one go from the guy, making sure my time on the phone is useful. There was an incident at one of the bars in town last night. There's a body. It needs to be identified. But, he also called my grandmother who was coming down in a few hours. He believes the body to be my mother.

Again, the world vanishes from around me as he keeps talking. He's telling me names of places in town if I was coming; places to stay. Places to eat. Where the police department was located at, should I come that way. The name of the funeral place in town. He apologizes, but none of those things are absorbed. Not like the other information. That's more important. If my mom is dead, knowing where to eat doesn't matter, or where to stay. Where to have her funeral even. I probably won't even have a say in it, because my ***** of a grandmother will make it some big show because it's her 'baby girl.' I can almost see it now.

“Thank you.” I tell him and then hang up as he's asking if I'm going to come to Franklin. It's none of his business, but I plan on going. Not just to say goodbye to my mom, but to take care of a few things. Like the prick that 'accidentally' killed my mom in a bar fight. She wasn't the target, but I don't give a damn. I stuff the phone in my pocket and then finish working on the moose. I can't leave it here, and with my mom already dead, there's nothing but time. What was one more night? Franklin will still be in New Hampshire tomorrow.

[Dominique]

“I can do both but really it is more about your preference.”

The shadow ignored the set of eyes that had yet to look at the car in question and remained on her instead. Dominique eyed the car between them as expected because what possibly ranked higher on her list than a vehicle she was about to get her hands on and get dirty doing it? Hot blood was pumping mere feet from her but she had enough discipline to cover the safety of all three of them standing around the Dodge Challenger. The couple seeking to have their ride flipped into something that would stop traffic and turn heads was in the right place. They traveled four hours just to have it happen.

“Suicide or Lambo is beyond the appearance you end up with.” The shadow reminded both of them as she stepped in closer to the black matte finished door and opened it for effect. “Suicide means you are still using this space in any use after the customizing.” The door moved back and forth as HOPE held it loosely. A nearly inaudible creak caught her attention and she leaned in to inspect the source and made a mental note. “Lambo is going to give you all this room to play with but an entirely different system is obviously going in.” The door was released with just enough incentive to send it back into the frame that would hold it in place. “You shouldn’t be put out too much by the doors going up other than the chance you tend to park in caves or something. In that case that is why my Batmobile has an automatic moonroof.” Chocolate orbs sparkled as they landed on the woman who was debating the points made. It seemed she was there for business that was being discussed. The man beside her was still staring and it was one of those things Dom could continue to ignore or just call it. “Questions?”
“Yeah, I got one. Wait...how about two?” There was something in the tone of his voice that caught both of their attention bringing their heads turning his direction. “Who is doing the actual work and more importantly where?”

The sounds of his steps circled the car slowly so that he was momentarily safe behind the shield of automotive steel and the one he was asking. Not that he had any solid clue he couldn’t count on the car saving him if she was in any sort of mood. Humans were pretty predictable in their defenses. Reading her was no simple task. Certainly not one that could be tackled by any hot blooded skin bag off the streets looking to get a job done right and willing to drive half a day to do it.

Dominique appeared just as human as the woman that arrived with him. The healthy appearing skin beneath the extensive permanent ink that covered her would deceive any set of eyes inspecting it. The points of her fangs were smaller than most and really undetectable unless her mouth was wide open for viewing. She was petite, curvaceous and hardly looking like death waiting to happen. The questions were far more common than they should be given the way women had made their marks in the world. Dom took it in stride. She figured it was another one of those that were slowly setting themselves up for a lesson she was known to deliver.

“We were told this was just the shop that the jobs are arranged in and the work is done offsite.” More steps were echoing as the man rounded the front of the car. Dominique glanced over her shoulder to the exterior of Honeymead Market Mall at the mention of it. “We turn over the keys and wait for a call when the job is done. Full payment in cash before we get the keys back.” No more sounds of footsteps were to be heard since the ordinary average guy wearing thirty years at the very most took a stand where his feet paused. “I think we should be able to stop in and, you know, check in on progress and see what the mechanics are doing. I know a little bit about how this type of business works and want what I am paying for to be done right.”
“You want to stick your other foot in your mouth?” The woman standing next to Dominique growled while Dom gave the typical but hardly required blink of her dark eyes. “I told you she does the work herself. And we are handing over the keys and we will hang at your uncle’s place and do whatever **** they generally do around here for entertainment until she is done with the car.” Her head shook and as the jingle of keys being pulled from the small camo messenger bag clinging to the front of her waist announced who was calling the shots. “Ignore him. It is my car. Actually was my Dad’s first which makes it really special that you are doing this. I have seen what you do and Dad would have been proud.” The brass was airborne and LESS opened just in time to catch them. “As for him, well, he needs to calm the **** down. He just rides in it and looks pretty.”
“**** you, Cassie.” The words were left as the guy took a hike towards the doors of the distant mall with a one fingered salute lifting off.
“He won’t be getting that option for a while.” The woman stepped backwards creating distance while looking at her car. “He keeps it up he will see more of the inside of my trunk than my bare *** if that is how he wants to start this vacation. Lambo.”
“You got it. So, keep this on you and don’t worry bout a thing. Anything outside the estimates I gave you will be absorbed.” Dom stretched out her hand exchanging the device she used to summon the customers back when the work was complete. “It will go off when it is ready. If for some reason you happen to lose it check back during shop hours.”

Twenty minutes later the car went quiet when the key was pulled from the ignition. Leaving it where it was parked the shadow secured it. Casually she pockets the keys while heading through the spacious underground garage of Vita Bella where all the custom work was done. It would be a couple hours before the parts she had a runner heading out of town for would arrive. That meant she had the extra time on hand to check in with one inparticular who more than likely was creating something with his own hands. The zoo of exotic resident creatures was given another free meal as well as the attention they each expected before she headed back out.

This time she used the option of fast without the furious factor. Arriving in the still of the night she found the prompt arrival outside where Ric more than likely was to be found uneventful as it generally was. Clearing the shop door and stepping inside the space where the taxidermist worked his magic left her watching him until he would notice her. It was self serving really. Something about his mind and his hands at work had her fascinated to the point of being silent while he went hands deep in the moose that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

[Roderic]

I knew the second that Dom walked in my business, but didn't turn my head to acknowledge her. With each step in my direction, the stronger her scent becomes, and I narrow my eyes in concentration. I was working on the intestines and there was a lot of them to get through and get out before the night was done. Finally, after finding myself shoulder deep in the cadaver of the moose, I give a strong yank and feel the tension release and the remainder of the intestines spill out and drape over my arm.

As I pull the rest out, I glance at Dominique, my dark eyes on the woman that shared my space more often then I'd like to admit. “We need to go to New Hampshire.” I inform her as I lay the intestines on the drop cloth to the left of the moose's body. “Tomorrow.” I add in, before standing and wiping the remains on my hands from the moose on my dark denim jeans. “I have some business to take care of.” I tell her as I walk past Dominique and head for the sink and start to lather my hands, arms, elbows and one of my shoulders in soap.

“I'll need a suit too. Something...unique. Custom. Know a guy? Willing to pay top dollar.” I glance over to the woman I've tied myself to for as long as we're doing this vampire song and dance, as I grab some paper towel and start drying my arm and then my hands. “I know it's short notice.” I don't tell her that I want her to come. That I hope she'll come. I don't know what to do at these things. My grandparents on my mom side are still alive and when my grandparents on my dad's side died throughout the years, the ***** of a new wife didn't think I should be able to come. Hell, I hadn't even known my granddad died when I was a young boy until I asked why I hadn't seen him two Christmases in a row. I wasn't 'true' family anymore she said. Just a broken branch or something like that.

“Might be a few days. Maybe a week at best.” I tell Dom, unsure of my actual game plan and just what needed to be done. I had started making a list, but the list might need editing or modifications based on the information I gather and things I experience while in New Hampshire. “Have to make a visit to some guy. Tie up a loose end or two with him. Stop at a police station in town, if my grandmother didn't already. See some...family.” I throw the paper towel in the garbage then move to collect my tools on the sheet. “Bury my mom.” I say quietly, almost too quiet to be heard as the metal of the tools clang together as I gather them up. “Probably will need to bring something black, if you come along. You game?” I ask her, half bent at the waist, looking at Dom through the clumps of day three of unwashed hair. Nothing in my gaze lets up the fact that I want her to go with me. I just stare at her, and find myself looking through Dom as I calculate my list; starting with the second I get off the plane.

[Dominique]

Dominique watched Ric go through the motions of cleaning up. Nothing stood out as different than any other time she was witness to his use of water and the extent he cleansed his skin. His voice had most of her attention while her mind made note of what he was saying, asking help in finding. A suit. Check. Unique would be one way to describe the one she had in mind. She glanced at the clock in the distance. As long as the sun wasn’t shining he would take her call when she made it. Ric’s measurements were taken without her body having move from where she leaned her bare shoulder against the wall.

A week in New Hampshire. Tying up a loose end. Stopping at the police station. Her dark eyes pulled from the insides of the moose to where he was currently at. Again that was not an issue. She had staff for a reason. They were paid well to be competent and handle things while she was routinely day sleeping. The daywalker in her could manage to be up with the sun but walking around smoldering was a bit to explain and a groggy mind didn’t always cover all the bases like a well rested one did. The covering bases part of her thought stayed with her until she pulled out her cell and fired off a text containing Ric’s measurements to the guy who could fit Cubby before sunrise without him actually having to be there.

The whole bit about leaving tomorrow had her brow hook sharply then drop with acceptance. That meant that the couple who drove all day to get the Lambo doors on would be getting them done by her second in command. Another text was sent as quick as the first. Despite the short notice there was no sense of conflict in the least for the shadow micromanaging her business via text. Ric had something going on and he was leaving town. It was simple as that. He was not going alone. As soon as he was about to hit any border she was his shadow. She had him covered. There was no question she would be going with.

She was about to send out another text to Doc because she figured it was something needing to be known. Not that he wouldn’t be told by Ric. Her thumbs were a blur of flesh and ink until something froze them in their tracks. Her wide eyes rolled up without her head moving from the dipped position. She stared at him bent over and absorbed the rest of what he had to say. He was heading back to bury his mom. Visiting a guy and tying up a loose end. That all meant a hell of a lot more now that he brought up his mother.

“Give me an hour and I will be back with the suit.” Dominique’s expression didn’t show a lot. Her eye contact did and that would say everything her lips didn’t. She wouldn’t assume anything. Except, of course, that she was going with. “And I will be ready to go with you.”

Nothing else was said. She exited the shop and was several yards out before she disappeared completely and reappeared in front of West Towers. She glanced up to the top of the massive building then counted down to the sixteenth floor where the guy would likely be around and so would what she needed from him-a suit for Cubby.

Justin Case. It had been a while since she had been in touch with him but it was one of things where time passing didn’t matter. He owed her one and he knew it would be collected on. How many mechanics were known to drop everything on Christmas Eve and pull his girlfriend’s Santa gift, a puppy, from the place it was wedged in deep? It just so happened to be the recently installed custom Harley Davidson exhaust. Then again what idiot stuffs a teacup Chihuahua in a pipe? The very same guy who had a fierce talent for being one of the best tailors in Canada. A purposeful stroll through the lobby had her sidestepping the whole elevator scene and pulling open the stairwell door that revealed the very series of stairs that she spent years clearing for too many reasons to count. None of them were close to being half as important as the reason she went up each flight with increasing determination.

[Roderic]

I nod as she mentions an hour and getting me a suit. Then she would be ready to go. I had assumed that Dom would go, if nothing would hold her back, but had prepared for the offshoot that she couldn't go either. I watch her disappear, then get to work. The moose will need to be stored correctly for the duration of a better part of a week. Just in case. I'm hoping to get everything done in a couple of days, four at most. Being back home isn't ideal for me, I've only ever returned there once since being in Canada. After this visit, it's unlikely I'll ever go back. Which suited me fine. Everything I need or want is here. There are people here, just as there are in New Hampshire. More people with more variety. My businesses are also here, not that I enjoy being a bushiness man, but they both allow me to 'play,' and 'work.' And lastly, well, I stop the thought there. I have to keep a straight head and plan. My mom is dead and there is nothing I can do to change that.

The moose is stored and I send a text to the other guy who works with me. I'm still not sure about him, but he does a damn good job. I let him know what he needs to do every day to keep the moose from looking like **** when I get bad. I send the text twice, just in case he skims it too quickly and doesn't realize how important this is. He better, or he might end up as some sort of present for Dom one night.

Once that's done, I move to a drawer and pull out a half-used notebook and a pencil. Unlike most nights, this list is for myself and not some project I'm working on for someone else. I start with a few ideas and realize quickly how tedious this thing is going to be. Not the actual burying my mom, but the things surrounding it. I'll go to the police station and see if I can get the report. I know his name won't be in there, but it's a starting point. Then, I'll have to talk to locals-I might task Dom to do that. She has better people skills than I do; the fact that I won't kill everyone I talk to by the time I get done with their small town, ignorant, stupid asses. Then, I'll have to deal with my mom; the entire process of burying her and making arrangements. Something I realize I'll need Dom's help with again. I am certain there are expectations for such an event. Flowers, probably. Who knew what else? I didn't typically bury people like this, or at all. Then, I'll deal with him. That's my basic outline for now. I'm sure I'll add things to it later.

I tear the page out of the notebook, then the one under it and crumple it up. It's tossed in the bin, before both the pencil and the notebook back in their respective places, then finish cleaning up other work areas. After a quick scan of the inside, I move to the door, flick off the light and lock up. I stuff the note in the inside pocket of my leather coat, pull out a cigarette and light it while I wait inside the mall for Dom.

[Dominique]

“Justin…” The words that were coupled with her thoughts sort of split up before she could get them out. For good reason. Her wide eyes jumped between the choices she was given on such short notice. Once their tour of duty over the suit selections was complete she got back to her unfinished words. “Man, this is for a funeral.” Her dark hair was gathered and pulled up from the nape of her neck. HOPE and LESS twisted the waist length into a chaotic knot to hang between her shoulders. The silken ball settled over the permanent leopard spots that canvased her back from neck to hips. “Do you have something that is dark?”

Her inked hands went back to the first suit that was red with a blue tie that looked like it was made out of some sort of mylar infused material. She winced. It wasn’t Ric at all. HOPE pulled it from the place it was set out and stuffed it back in the open wardrobe behind her. Her eyes landed back to the lineup and her fingers fixed over the bridge of her nose and pressure was applied. Something very similar to what her sire would do while dealing with her. Now she was feeling the benefits the tighter her fingers squeezed together.

“Something that is sharp and says what a man that doesn’t have a knack for saying the right thing at the right time would actually wear.”

Dominique was not about to dress Cubby for the purpose of putting his mother to rest looking like a clown. Whatever happened to all the talent and eye for what was worth paying weeks of a good salary for was beyond her. She spotted Justin opening a matching wardrobe across the room. His hands were twitching more than they usually did. A few steps closer had her moving without his notice. HOPE brushed over the hard compact mass of metal beneath the bottom of her cling shirt and retracted when the weapon was confirmed to be there. Justin was a great guy when he was in his right mind but there was no telling what he had gotten himself into since she last crossed paths with him.

“The streets will kill you.” It wasn’t like he would be denying the truth. He came from the same part of New York she did and they concluded in their first conversation a couple years back that they more than likely shared the road leading to Harper Rock from the east coast. “Tell me you are just short on sugar.”
“Yeah, look who's talking.” The resident tailor snapped back while pulling a black plastic garment bag from the interior where it had been hanging. “I am getting over a bad habit. Five weeks now. Give me some credit.” He pulled at the zipper that was responsible for keeping the bag sealed. “It would have saved us both some time if you said it was for a ******* funeral. If this works you can have it for a nice care package from your farm. South plot I believe. Or was it the North?”
“South.” She didn't have to think about it. Supposedly the North gave him a headache from hell which she still questioned. Her weed was known for being the best. It was the cure for a headache not that cause. "I am sure of it."

Dominique stepped in and waited as the black plastic parted down the middle and the suit was given a ceremonious flash to her waiting eyes. HOPE reached for the lapel and fingered it while her eyes finally blinked. The pinstripe was not quite the pinstripe it appeared to be once she leaned in and looked closer.

“Remember when I went back for court over those tickets and my Dad was trying to get me committed?” His chest puffed up and out a bit at the mention of it as if it gave him reason to stand stronger in his own skin. “This suit had the judge calling me into her chambers.” He winked. “She was impressed as all hell that I had it on. When she found out I designed it she ordered up one for herself. This one is damn close to the measurements you sent. Give me ten minutes and it will be good to go.”
“It certainly says Cubby all over it. You have shoes?” The shadow took advantage of the owner of the wardrobe stepping away so she could search the ceiling to floor black closet for a set of shoes that would go with it. A left polished to perfection was followed by a right as she stepped back and eyes what she had hold of. “Can I take these? I am pretty sure these will fit.”
“Cubby?" The sound a small machine started up. "Yeah, can you have someone get that package put together? I will swing by and pick it up myself. I sure can use the calming effects.”

Thirty minutes...give or take a few went by. With a garment bag perched over her shoulder she joined Ric. Everything needed was covered including the recently acquired suit, shoes as well as her attire she stuffed inside the bag that she pulled from her shoulder and draped over her folded arm. On the opposite shoulder was a canvas travel bag that held everything else.

“Let’s head out.” She was next to him with a step in sharing enough of the close space that said they were together but not hanging on him like an insecure kitten. If he wanted the contact he would find the spot he preferred to connect himself to like he usually did given the mood. If not then she was wise to call it like she had. “I am ready.” The bag draped over her arm was given a pat. “And now so are you.”

[Roderic]

I've finished a cigarette and started on another by the time Dom makes her way back. I'm in no rush, no deadline or time constraints. The piss poor excuse of a hag of a grandmother that I had was claiming the body as her daughter. I have no doubts that it's my mom, even if they weren't sure. My mom's life has always been a struggle since Nathaniel and Aliyah's dad left us for Nathaniel's mom. As a kid I blamed Nathaniel, but grew out of that mindset when I started growing facial hair. Aliyah had been a surprise a couple years ago, but again, wasn't her fault the son of a ***** couldn't keep his dick in one thing for the entire duration of his life.

I hadn't left here to go back to our shared space in the wilderness. I don't need anything but the suit and Dom said she would take care of it. I believe her and hell, I even trust her. After the things we've been through and the things we do...I trust Dom with ever fiber of my being. I see the suit bag over her shoulder and nod in its direction, then at her as she says that we're both ready. She turns to head towards the main entrance of the mall, and I flick the remainder of the second cigarette on the ground. I stomp it out with my boot, then find my way next to her. "Some things about...home." It's not really my home, but it's where mom set up after I moved away as soon as I became an adult. Though I was living thirty miles away, I checked in on her every weekend. Made sure she had food, her medication for her depression and her heat and water turned on. Damn near bankrupted me during my college years, but even though she made some mistakes while I was growing up, she was family. My only family.

As we get down the stairs and towards the entrance, I close the space between us while I talk. There's no contact, just a little less gap then before. "It's small. Smaller than small. Not a lot there. Mostly motels, some restaurants, few bars and one grocery store I think." I try and think of anything else that might be a form of entertainment, or selling point to people, but there's not much. "And an old two floor library. Books probably that date back from the seventies, eighties and nineties...if they're lucky." We're outside and I recognize how little space there is between us as I glance her way. I take a step to the right while I keep walking and talking. "But the most important thing to remember..." I say quietly as I look away. "None of those people are my family. We're not there to make friends." They didn't want or need us around then, and I sure as **** don't want or need them in my life now. Anything that could have been passed a long time ago and I don't feel any way about it now.

[Dominique]

“Got it.”

Dominique understood. Family dynamics and relatives were something she had an education in since the day she was born. Literally. Hers was one of those all too familiar cases. The kind where one parent drops dead before the kid turns a year old and the other supposedly responsible party is already sowing their seed across the east coast. He was MIA leaving a trail of new, innocent hungry faces that would take a few decades to be collected and sorted out. Kenlie came to mind briefly but was ousted when she remembered none of this was about her. Not at all.

Once they stepped outside the space increased between them and she used it to shift what she was carrying. It was rather thoughtful of him to give her room and she used it to her advantage. Not that the load she had was cumbersome, because it wasn’t. Far from it. But the fact remained she wasn’t the tallest person on the planet and keeping the bag from dragging meant hiking it over a shoulder to drape it without giving it a bad case of erroneously placed creases. It would draw enough attention without looking like it needed a dance with a hot iron as well.

“Books are great but I think I will be skipping out on the library.”

She wanted him to know she was going for him. It was as simple as being there if he needed her and to be there even if he didn’t. It went unsaid. She was holding onto the expression, taking steps beside him that said what her voice didn’t. Save the sappy cling-on ******** for those who couldn’t read one another. Dark eyes met his and that was more than enough.

“I won’t be mingling or loading any new contacts. I get where you are coming from.” She pulled her hair out from under the canvas bag strap on her shoulder. It was tugging more than she expected. “Trust me.”

The last statement could cover a hell of a lot of things but Ric would get that message too. He could explain her away as his new apprentice, chief in training dead animal stuffer for whatever it was worth. She would be a fly on the wall or the one holding the door open so he could get his *** in and out before too many people got themselves hurt. Or he could just tell anyone who asked to **** off.This was Ric after all and from the way things sounded it was hardly going to be a new improved return to Little House on the freaking Prairie or The Brady Bunch Gathers again.

[Roderic]

The plane ride was pretty uneventful. During the majority of the flight I kept writing on the piece of paper that was in my coat. Writing a few things down, then scratching them out and writing something else. I had multiple plans, but I wasn't happy with either of them. It was time to consult Dom, once there was no prying ears near, or around us.

Once we landed and were off the plane, I stop us not far from where we departed the plane in the unloading area. "There are things we need to do while we are here. We have to be quick about it and quiet about it." I say quietly, moving some of my hair out of my eyes so we both can make eye contact. "I have to hit the police station tomorrow. I want to try and get a copy of the report and anything else I can get out of the detective." I tell her, holding my suit over my right shoulder. I really didn't look in the bag, but I trusted Dom to have carried out the whole 'black suit' thing and keep it tailored to me. We've been together too long for me to wonder what she might have packed in my bag.

"There's that guy I need to see. Then the funeral." I start moving away from the unloading gate and then stop. "I...do not know what to do." I frown then shake my head. "Chances are my mom never planned this out. She was more they day to day type." I almost sneer, thinking about how I got some of my habits from my brother and sister's dad. "I can't remember the last funeral I went to." I admitted, before walking again. I wanted something nice for my mom. She deserved it. Nothing crazy and over the top, but she was going to get something nice out of this, along with a nice side of revenge served right up. She would never know it, and if things went off right, no one would. I stop abruptly again, turn and feel my shoulders drop. "I." I stop and look left, then right. "Need your help." I do not ask for help often, or ever, but I'm not sure I could do all these things by myself, or do them right.

[Dominique]

It was easy to forget until Ric said something. It was then that she felt like asking if this was an indoor or outdoor thing, but he really had no clue. Not from the way it was sounding. He didn’t even know who planned it or if there were plans. What would happen if it was? Best case scenario it would go much better than it did last time. At least for her. Grief was powerful. Especially to that degree. She glanced sideways to his features while his head turned one way then the other. He seemed fine. Then again some were known to wear their pain on the inside, hidden deep and in the darkest places that it would take something catastrophic to bring it to the surface. A blink of her wide eyes discovered nothing had changed in the split second that passed by.

“Name it.” She really didn’t have to be asked. Saying what had to be done, what he felt responsible for making happen, was on her shoulders too. It was her take on the whole situation. “I will visit the guy or the…” She paused while rubbing the back of her head to shuffle the long dark strands that gathered over the length of time she was isolated in the seat of a plane. She looked down then back up at him. “Funeral home. I can cover whatever you need. I am here.” Her eyes were solid with intent to back her words with a promise she would never make if she couldn’t keep it. “And I will be there too.” Her right foot stepped in just enough that her eyes found his and held them.

If it helped she could tell him she could not remember her mother since the woman died before her first birthday. She couldn’t remember the funeral either but her grandmother said it was meant for an angel. She did remember the next two she was at. Her grandparents. Each one was spread apart by only a few month’s time like those who were meant to be together forever were said to go. Tali’s funeral she couldn’t make. She was on the run. It was a lesson on why no one who says they give a **** should run. Tali was right. The last funeral…a roll of her shoulders set everything back into perspective. **** the past. She had been cured thanks to the intervention of her primary physician. Doc.

“What needs to be done first?”

The guy he is talking about will be no issue. It would be a pleasure to pick him up, wrap him up nice and tight like a delivery service and drop him at Ric’s boots. But her pleasure was hardly the goal. Making all of this easy as possible for him was. It was then that she realized that the few funeral services she attended were held during the day with visitations typically held the evening before.

Dominique was a daywalker for lack of a better term. Some would think that was a passport to hitting every sunshine soaked outdoor tea and garden party without notice. Even her mortal aura didn’t keep her from standing out when the rays of the sun found her. Daywalker only meant the sun wouldn’t kill her that particular moment. That didn’t mean she was bright eyed and bushy tailed at the crack of dawn or fully functional at high noon. It was still painful. Not only that she was letting off steam and alert only with severe self-induced pain. The fun didn’t end there. It was not uncommon for her to pass out without warning at any given spot she was in and return her to her comatose state the daylight managed to put her and every other vampire in.

“Now that I think of it, we need to see what time this at and if it isn’t going to be after sundown we need to plan accordingly.”