New Mexico / June, 1958 / 02:24

[bingobangobongo]

Nighttime.

The desert cooled greatly at night, especially nights as clear as this one. Lieutenant (J.G.) Al "Bingo" Calavicci wouldn't know the difference. Half the bottles lay strewn in the dirt while the other half were placed precisely, a practical lineup on the white edge line of the road. Off the road, in the dirt, Al's candy apple red Corvette sat at the end of an abrupt stop scarring the road.

Nicely buzzed, Bingo smoked at his cigarette and paced back and forth in front of rowed glass bottles. "You've got a lotta nerve comin' here like this. And you bring your friends with you?" He waved his hand in the direction of the standing bottles he wasn't presently addressing. "What was I supposed to do, huh? You forced my hand," he accused, head swimming delightfully.

"Heh--hehe." Al was having a tough time keeping his straight face. Wildly turning on his heel, the man kicked one of the empties and pretended to watch if sail off into the distance. He hadn't seen where it had gone -- it was far too dark, even with the desert starlight. "See what you made me do, Vinny?!" Al's voice, gravel and honey, sweet and rough, carried off into the distance and didn't come back. He leaned down to stare accusingly at the bottle on the white line, one eye half-closed in mock posturing. At his fingertips, his Lucky was burning him, but he wasn't finished. Not yet.

Bingo snorted. "Yer done for," he growled out. He reached his hand to grasp Vinny's neck, but the cigarette bit at him and he yelped, dropping the Lucky Strike, the bottle of beer, and his sunglasses all in one motion. It was just enough that he missed the fact that the roaring sound he was suddenly hearing was, in fact, outside of his head. Feeling strangely prickly and disoriented, the Lieutenant sucked at his burnt finger and turned just in time to see the fireball descending down over his prized car.

Did he duck? Did he jump for cover? "No, no, NO!" No, Bingo doth protest fiercely into the night.

He didn't get to see what happened. The force of such a nearby impact coupled with his already unbalanced step knocked him to the ground where he remained, head covered in anticipation of more wreckage.

Comments

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara felt almost unbearably light, joyous even. She'd just given over at last, putting a sudden end to all of her struggles. She closed her eyes, told Lee not to follow, and let go just like that.

Of course, the feeling lasted all of twenty-three seconds before the panel before her lit with dozens of angry red warning lights and the dials on everything from the altimeter to the oxygen monitor began to spin wildly. All Kara could see outside the cockpit were angrily churning black clouds, lightning jumping alongside her wings, and rain beginning to form on the glass.

Wait... rain? For there to be rain, there had to be atmosphere, and that meant...

"Frak!" The Viper plunged out of the clouds and just about slammed into solid black night sky, crystal clear for miles around. The change in weather, while odd, was hardly on Kara's current radar - in fact, all she could think about was the wide expanse of ground rushing up to meet her.

It may only have been seconds since Kara decided she wanted to check out permanently, but now the pilot within her sprang to life and wrested control back. Her fingers flipped switches, her body leaned into the thruster pedal, and the pilot called Starbuck managed to flip the bird onto her belly and land. Well, 'land' might be a bit of a stretch, but she set the thing down without bursting into a giant ball of tillium-fed fire, so she'd call it whatever the hell she wanted to.

Once the heap finally stopped, Kara struggled out of the cracked canopy, half checking herself for injuries sustained and half trying to prevent new ones. She mostly failed at the latter endeavor, and by the time she made it to the ground she was wrenching off her helmet and throwing it to the ground in anger, pain, and bereavement. Some of this she vented by kicking scattered parts as far as she could, cursing loudly, and tearing at the straps on her flight suit - the rest she planned to save for later.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Bingo thought he was a goner. Or that the whole of whatever had come down on top of his car and he might as well be a goner. He thought about how he'd just paid the sweet thing off and groaned to himself. What adrenaline had pumped into his system must have gone because he was crestfallen and already thinking about the long walk back to civilization. None of the thoughts held, however, because Al heard sounds of rustling that were not coming from him.

When he looked up, the car was still there. "Lisa..." It came out feeling like relief. He would have celebrated, but an angry, unexpected noise cut through the desert. The Lieutenant ducked and patted at the ground in search of his sunglasses, which would prove neither useful or practical considering the situation.

But then it hit him. If there was someone out there, then either they've come with the crashing object, or they'd been waiting out there the whole time and just happened to be in the way. Not drunk enough to believe the latter, Calavicci scrambled to his feet and went for the car to retrieve a flashlight. The light inside the trunk illuminated the quickly sobering face of the young pilot. He pressed some blankets out of the way, grabbing hold of the heavy flashlight and leaving the trunk open behind him.

"Help here!" He called out into the darkness, waving the now-lit light across the landscape in a long swoop. Boy, I hope they're friendly, he commented internally, worried it might be his last
thought. Or cute he conceded, thinking death would be more bearable when hidden behind a pretty face.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

The sound of a voice made Kara spin around, startled. She couldn't make out the words, but a voice at all was strange enough. Where was she, anyway? She looked around again, this time taking in the surroundings that were not on fire thanks to her unceremonious arrival. The landscape was familiar enough - or at least, familiar enough that she could have called it a 'desert.' It seemed to have all the earmarks of the pictures she vaguely remembered from fifth-grade geography books. So if this planet had plants growing on it (even if it was just prickly, mean-looking succulents), and it had people, then... no. She wouldn't let herself start thinking that. Not yet at least.

She cast one look over her shoulder at the smoldering wreckage of her bird, scowled to herself, and unholstered her sidearm, making for the light in the distance.

She approached cautiously, but as she drew nigh, she could see the figure of a man beside what looked like a car. It was hard to see either as they were both cast in shadow, but she supposed if the man meant to capture and cannibalize her or whatever, he'd have made some move by now. The sight of several bottles catching and throwing the flashlight's beam served to soften Kara somewhat, and she lowered her weapon toward the ground as she moved closer (though, naturally, she made no attempt to hide it).

When she was near enough to make out the man's features, she stopped. She was still a few yards away when she spoke. "Captain Kara Thrace," she informed him evenly. She presumed he'd go on to identify himself, and though she really wanted to know where she was, she figured she save her questions until she could gauge the man's ability to supply her with the information.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Air Force? Now it made at least a little more sense. Bingo straightened up and offered a salute. "Lieutenant, Junior Grade Albert Calavicci, sir. U.S. Navy," he filled in, because he wasn't entirely convinced she was military. Then again, he wasn't exactly holding on to his full faculties at the moment. She certainly stood command like a military woman.

"Are you... hurt?" Al leaned to one side trying to understand her flight suit. It looked different. "That experimental or something?" He nodded out past her as if to illustrate. Okay, so maybe he was speaking out of turn, but it wasn't like the circumstances weren't already strange. "Sir," he added, as an afterthought.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

U.S. Navy? What the hell was the U.S.? Kara supposed she should just be grateful they shared a language - it definitely gave her a small glimmer of hope to hold onto that she'd just been dreaming for the past three years and had woken up on some bleak moon after a training exercise gone wrong.

Either way, she gave the man something of a lazy salute in return, not really caring one way or another. She was hardly one for the pomp and and ritual of military life in the best scenario, and in any case she outranked him no matter what sort of navy he belonged to.

"I'm fine," she lied, keeping her tone brusque and her pistol where he could see it. She nodded behind her to where he'd indicated. "And that was my plane." She took a few more cautious steps closer, eying the young lieutenant up. He didn't appear to be carrying anything more dangerous than a cigarette lighter, but that didn't mean she was going to offer her hand in friendship and prevail upon him for a smoke - not yet anyway. Instead, she nodded toward the car - a sleek little thing if ever she'd seen one. She imagined the old man would know what it was called, what was under the hood, and how many were made; the notion almost made her smile. Kara held herself in check, though, gesturing toward it with her free hand. "Did you drive here from a base?" It'd almost be too good to be true to have crash-landed her Viper a few miles from a naval base (or better yet, an air force base), but stranger things had happened.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

"Ah..." This is the Lieutenant avoiding the question.

As Al began to settle a little in his skin, he loosened up and dropped his salute. It most certainly wasn't the time for extra formality considering his half-gone drunkenness and her half-crashed soberness. "I've got some water." On his way back to the trunk, he gathered up the full bottles of beer, dropping them carelessly onto the blankets he had previously moved. He peeked around the side, spotting her position before taking to the opposite side of the car as before. When he rejoined her, he approached on her flank, flashlight in one hand and a plastic jug of water in the other. "Doesn't pay to cross the desert without it," he commented, presumably to feel they shared some frame of reference.

He left the water on the pavement and began his careful creep in the direction of her downed plane. If it was an experimental plane, he at least wanted to get a look at what was left of it. His eyes watered from the traces of smoke and the still-smoldering metal radiated enough heat that he could avoid most of the wreckage. A whistle escaped him even if the darkness obscured most of the details. He turned back to her to ask, "Ah, where... where did you say you were coming in from, sir?" She hadn't, of course, but since they were asking questions, he thought he'd give it a try.

[OOC: ILU!]

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

She watched him with an equal amount of suspicion to what he was exhibiting toward her; Kara thought he was awful curious for a drunk guy in the middle of nowhere. "I didn't," she replied coolly. And unless Calavicci thought she'd melt if he threw water on her, she supposed she wasn't in any immediate danger from him, so she holstered her sidearm and turned toward the wreckage of the Viper.

Without facilities, materials, and tools, her bird was as good as dead, so she repeated her questions. "A base, Lieutenant? Is there one around here?" She turned a circle on the spot, scanning the desert - as far as she could see, there was nothing but flat, darn, mostly barren land. "Where are we, anyway?" She figured that was best way to ask the obvious question so that it wouldn't sound so... odd.

((ooc: ILU too!))

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Bingo blinked, tilted his head and then looked around. "Geez, sir, you musta'..." He looked back at her, putting a hand on top of his head. "You must've come from out there, I guess." Surely, that was a vast understatement, but Calavicci didn't know that, even as he moved to gesture into the blackness. "New Mexico. We're in New Mexico."

With his lighter and Lucky Strikes now in hand, he was forced to hold the body of the flashlight under his arm. "And, if there is a base out here, Captain, it's not one that I'm allowed to know about. And I've got some pretty decent clearance," he boasted after placing a cigarette between his lips. The Lieutenant (J.G.) smirked behind his addition and then shook the pack at her until a cigarette worked itself out far enough for her to grab. "Anyway, I don't think you'll get far with what's left of that puppy. What d'you say to letting a guy lend a hand?" He tilted his head forward, effectively dragging the light near enough to the Captain's head to illuminate a portion of her face.

A better look. She was a blonde (God, he loved blondes,) and tall. Thrace had what? An inch on him? Maybe more, though he thought he was probably slouching a bit. Built well enough, too. She looked... sturdy.

With his lighter aloft, Al lit his cigarette and lit his face, the warmth of the flame brightening his features for her benefit.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

"New Mexico," she repeated, tasting the words for the first time. Immediately, she wondered what had happened to Mexico, though she considered he might be talking about the town they were in or even the name of the desert. Either way, she hadn't heard of it, and she was disheartened. There were definitely places on the Colonies she didn't know about, but she instinctively knew this was not one of them - and that left the problem of where she really was. That was a conversation best left for the moment, though.

The news they weren't near a base was more bad luck, and Kara sighed. She took the proffered cigarette, turning it between her fingers as she waited for the lighter. It was the first cigarette she'd had that was not hand-rolled in... gods, three years already? And it was probably the first cigarette she'd had at all in weeks. At least, if nothing else, she'd managed to run into a smoker (and by appearances, an accomplished drinker).

She studied him while his gaze turned inward in the act of lighting his own cigarette. He was a little older than she'd initially guessed (for Kara had never been a junior grade anything, and she hadn't been an lieutenant in years), and handsome in such a way, Kara knew he knew it.

When he was through, she popped the cigarette into her mouth, enjoying the familiar feel of it between her lips for a moment before leaning closer so Calavicci could light it. She guessed the way to go about getting what she needed to know from the man was to play to her more obvious strengths - after all, most men she knew put up with absurd questions more readily from a beautiful woman than they did an ace Viper jock. Kara didn't delude herself into thinking she was some paragon of feminine beauty (especially now that she was streaked with soot and blood), but for the moment, she was the only woman for miles, so she had an edge.

She took a long drag and straightened up, taking the cigarette from her lips and offered him a half-smile. "Thanks." Gesturing toward the road, she asked, "Where does this go, then?" She tipped her head to one side, arching an eyebrow. "Please tell me you don't actually live out here somewhere."

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

After a long drag from his cigarette, the young pilot shook his head and talked out the excel of smoke, "Stationed in Pensacola at the moment." Of course, Al was banking on the Captain having some knowledge of his branch: Everyone had heard of the Naval base at Pensacola. "Anyway, not much that way," he answered, nodding his head in the direction she'd indicated. "Las Cruces it a few miles out. Could take you there if you're just lookin' for civilization..." What dialogue he left off sounded as if it were an open-ended offer. He wasn't necessarily offering her a ride just to Las Cruces. He had time to spare, and it was probably pretty obvious.

Thoughts of fleeing the scene brought up even more questions. Where had she come from? How long had she been in flight? Just what exactly what was she doing that didn't glean her the knowledge she had gone down in a state as large as New Mexico. She sounded American, at least -- any other nationality would have had Bingo scrambling to call in to someone. But, as strange as her circumstances were, he couldn't exactly claim he weren't somewhat suspicious in their own right. A service man, alone and drunk in the middle of the desert, still in uniform but definitely not on the fresh side of it's wear. And just how long had he been up?

Al cleared his throat and took another long drag from the cigarette. She looked kind of hurt, didn't she? At least, he thought that was blood.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Maybe Kara wasn't known for her penchant for responsibility, but even she could see he shouldn't be driving. Funny, she'd never been on this side of things before.

She took another step nearer to the road. The air was chilly, but the ground was warm under her boots - Kara guessed it was summer. She looked into Calavicci's trunk on her right and then back at him. "I think I'll just join you, if that's okay." She helped herself to one of the beers in the back and loitered near the bumper as she cracked it open.

Swallowing deeply, she reveled in the immediate rush of cool on down her throat and deep into her chest. In that moment of thoughtfulness, she felt every single scrape and bruise of her brutal "landing," and she didn't know what the hell to do about any of them, let alone getting home. She could hardly check into a hospital with naught but her dog tags for identification; she'd be chucked into the booby hatch. She was well and truly frakked, and plans were not forthcoming. Perhaps she was simply tired - it had been quite a day, after all, and as she wound down from her adrenaline hike, she felt every long second of it bear down on her.

Unable to stall any longer, she fixed her kind host with a curious look. "What're you doing out here, anyway? Just waiting for people to fall from the sky?"

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Join him? (Now that's what he liked to hear!) Bingo nodded and gestured long after she had taken to the back of the Corvette. Rather tentatively following after her, Calavicci sucked on his cigarette and ran his fingers along the smooth chrome and red paint. "Oh," he waved off the question with a bit of a chuckle, "just heading down to the Cape. I had a couple weeks leave and thought I'd see Hollywood." It wasn't complete truth, but Al figured it was close enough.

When he came around the back, he made sure to keep some distance between them. His aim was to seem the least like a creepy highway rape-stalker. "Look, I got a towel in my rucksack and plenty of water. You wanna at least get cleaned up a bit? I'm not too demanding, but if someone comes 'cross this, they might be." He'd sort of been down that road already, hadn't he?

He hoped there wasn't a sting there. In most cases he probably wouldn't have cared so much, but with her being torn up, he just didn't want to risk it. "Not to be a spoil sport, Captain, but don't you think drinking might look kind of bad if your CO comes along to pick up the pieces and you're blowin' hot, he might steam up a bit in a different way, if you get my meaning." Um, she might not, Al, but thanks for that commentary.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

The man had a point about cleaning up, but he still seemed to be a bit on the dodgy side. She had to wonder if he'd really been on leave. After all, what sort of LT wears his uniform on the way back to work? Of course, it was possible she was misreading the entire situation - she was pretty sleepy after all.

Nodding toward the trunk, she said, "I really don't want to tempt fate any further, I guess." She stripped out of the top of her flight suit in a perfunctory way. There was a three inch gash on her left bicep that stung when she pulled the fabric away as well as an unpleasant twinge in her left knee where she'd aggravated that old injury - and that wasn't even mentioning her hands. She'd burned them on the scalded skin of the bird, and while there were no blisters, if she planned on swiping some diamonds later, she'd sure as hell leave no prints.

Taking a final drag on the cigarette, she ground it beneath her heel and accepted the towel, attempting to dab at the most obvious wounds first. A lot of the blood, she found, was coming from the wound on her arm, and that cheered her somewhat - at the very least, her injuries could have been far worse than they were.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Al watched through the cast light from inside the trunk. "Went down once," he revealed, returning the flashlight to its designated spot. "Couldn't do anything, and I thought I was dead for sure, but-- well, here I am. Kinda like you." The young pilot shrugged and tossed the cigarette at his feet, toeing it into the gravel. The desert was too tinder-ready and Bingo wasn't keen on taking too many risks with the environment. In fact, the more time he spent thinking and talking about what happened, the more he wanted to check out what was left. Or, at least wait until morning to see what he could see.

Admittedly, he was a bit worried about the blood, but the Captain seemed like she wasn't too broken up about the whole ordeal. Then again, the effects of such an experience might not present themselves for days. He wondered if he should even be asking questions, but it all seemed a little too odd for his taste. "What was you heading? Somewhere remote?" He was trying to keep his tone casual, but he know she'd probably see right through it.

[OOC: I did this post from ny phone. It probably seemed longer than it is. Also, ILU!]

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara wrung out the damp towel and for lack of anywhere else to put it, draped it over the jug of water on the ground. Her knee was already screaming for attention, but there wasn't much she could do for it in the moment. She didn't know if she'd be able to do anything period without medical attention.

She brushed off the attention with practiced military authority. "Top secret." She gestured vaguely behind her toward the Viper. "My bird was an experiment for high-altitude flight. Obviously, it failed." She shrugged, hoping her generic explanation would work, especially considering she could only guess what the skin of the plane looked like from re-entry into atmosphere.

Either way, there wasn't much she could do for it, so she lifted her half-gone bottle of beer to her lips and took another taste. It was different from anything she'd ever tasted, but very familiar. Different ingredients to meet the same end, she assumed, and in any case, it tasted gorgeous. Without fresh crops of wheat and rye, real beer had disappeared from the Fleet entirely, and the synthetic crap was disgusting. If nothing else, she was glad this place had some perks.

Nodding toward him, she asked, "Where are you heading tonight?" It wasn't like she'd be able to identify the place name, but she hoped she could fake it enough to get a ride out of the cold, empty desert.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

"Oh, ah, I was just heading down to the Cape. Taking my time, got a couple days," he said idly, he expression unchanging. He had a bit of deja vu, but his attention didn't wane from her for long.

He was thinking about her comments. An experimental plane wasn't uncommon or unheard of, but a top secret experimental plane wasn't the type of thing that a person revealed quite so easily, despite Calavicci's previous confession about his security status. More than a few things weren't adding up, and he wasn't about to keep pretending. As he reached for a beer of his own, he said, "Captain, I'm not entirely certain where you've come from, but it's pretty obvious to me that you're not from around here. Let's cut to the chase, why don't we? And you can just tell me whether or not it's worth me taking you somewhere more official, or if I'm just better off dropping you at the nearest hospital and forgetting any of this ever happened." He was a reasonable man, so he gave her the option. If it weren't for her blonde hair, he probably wouldn't have been quite so generous.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm not from around here." She folded her arms and gave him a pointed look. "Are you from around here?"

Where she'd been trying to look vaguely friendly and even somewhat flirtatious, she now allowed her expression to close off entirely. With a disparaging glare, Kara added, "And if I were you, I wouldn't be so eager to show up anywhere 'official' with a wounded officer in your condition." And maybe that was something of a threat - one she really could not follow through on - but Calavicci had forced her hand.

She turned and gestured to her plane. "And if you don't believe me, go have a look. You'll find she's not exactly standard-issue." At least, she was banking on her Viper looking strange enough compared to whatever the man flew to be believable.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

So she would play ball. Al smirked and crossed his arms, lifting his chin in her direction. "Changes are, if you really are telling the truth -- and I don't believe you are, not yet -- then all I need to do is wait here with you and someone's gonna be along." He offered his thought with a trace of cockiness as he crossed his arms in front of him. "Because, ma'am, the United States government is not the type of organization to allow one of their experimental airplanes or the pilot in the hotseat to go unchecked." As if to illustrate his point, Bingo turned and looked for signs of life other than theirs in the vast quiet of the desert.

When he turned back to her, he was already in search of another cigarette. His hands betrayed a little more than he'd have liked, the tell-tale nervous shake coming through more clearly with the lighter and flame. What if this really were a rather serious situation involving an enemy spy plane? Should that be the case, then Calavicci was in for a battery of questioning, and while this woman seemed like a pistol, he wasn't sure she was worth the questioning and paperwork he'd have to fill out.

Al took a long drag and then groaned at himself for giving in. "Look, Captain, if the roles were reversed here, what would you expect? I'm not lookin' to ruin anyone's life, but there are strange things, and stranger things, and this is even worse than that." Why yes, he was known for ranting and raving, especially with the aid of his hands.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

So now he was trying to call her out? After the night she'd had, she really didn't need to go round and round with some idiot in the godsdamned desert. She waved him off flippantly, placing her empty bottle with its tumbled brethren.

"Right, well, can't take that chance, can you?" She nodded toward his car. "Why don't you scamper off toward wherever it is you're really going. I'll wait here for my ride on my own." She folded her arms against the chill and the pain in her arm and turned away from him and back into the dessert. Kara figured she'd make a show of investigating the wreckage before returning to road, because apparently, she had a long walk ahead of her.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

If there was one thing in the whole of the world that could drive Al absolutely bonkers, it was a moody woman. Unfortunately, they were also one of his biggest weaknesses. Feeling a complete and utter jerk, the young pilot pressed his palm to his forehead, the glowing ember of the cigarette dangerously close to his semi-unruly mop. "Ah, I'm sorry," he informed Thrace, and it was certainly genuine enough. "Look, I'll, uh... I'll take you wherever you need to go, all right?" Bingo's hand dropped and he gestured around them as if she might choose their direction right then and there. "Or-- or I'll send someone back to get you. Whatever you need," he offered. In retrospect, it hadn't been very human of him to question and accuse her when she'd obviously just been through quite an ordeal.

As if it excused his behavior (it didn't,) or was the truth (it wasn't,) Al finished, "It's the beer." He poured out the bottle he'd just recently opened.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Oh, great, he was following her - she'd never had walking away work for her before, and it was just her luck it'd be a success the first time when she didn't want it to.

She waved him off, barely affording him a glance over her shoulder. "I'll be fine. You might want to make yourself scarce, huh?" She doubted it'd do her any good, though, and at any rate, she really didn't want to be left alone in the desert.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

"Nah, c'mon," he urged her. Bingo snuffed out his cigarette and the desert seemed all the darker for it. Overhead, wisps of clouds remained as a trace, telling of the moodiness of New Mexico during even the warmer months. "We don't even hafta go anywhere. Just come and sit down. You've probably gotten pretty tossed around on your way down and now you're trekking through the scrub brush and dust because I couldn't keep my mug shut." Geez, just beg her to come around, why don't you, Bingo? he mentally chided.

What was it he wanted from her? Company? Al often didn't think company was worth so much trouble, but times had gotten tougher since he'd been reassigned. He was the same cocky Bingo, but he shared space with a whole mess of people just as cocky as he was. Oh, Al, if only your troubles were novel.

He stopped, not willing to go too far from the Corvette without knowing exactly where the outcome of his reasoning would lead them.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara felt rather than heard him stop behind her, and she mostly wanted to keep going. She figured she could track a bit further on down the road through the 'scrub brush and dust' and be all the better for it. Still, there was part of her that was loathe to be all on her own.

The fact was, she had been pretty shaken up - even before her unceremonious landing on some place she'd never heard of, she'd had something of a shock. In fact, she wasn't even sure if she was really even alive or not - for all she knew, this was some version of Hell, and Calavicci another menacing avatar trying to manipulate her (though he was neither very menacing nor manipulative).

Either way, at least he was there and she wasn't wandering through the desert by herself. She was exhausted, and though she'd never want to admit it, she was afraid of passing out and falling prey to whatever denizens of the New Mexico night that might fall upon her.

So she turned back to Calavicci, and even in her pique, she still had to resist the urge to grin - the man looked nearly supplicant. So maybe he wasn't exactly Pyriphlegethon's ferryman after all - could be he really was just a hapless military man beset upon by Kara and her troubles. In light of those problems, she couldn't afford him much sympathy, but at least she started walking back toward him.

Keeping her gaze deliberately dark and her stance entirely closed-off, she said, "Fine. Will you quit with the questions?" She might have sounded hostile, but she was asking in earnest - there were honestly things she just couldn't bring herself to discuss, and inventing cover was becoming a huge strain on her already tired mind.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

"No questions," he agreed, nodding his head distractedly. Oh, Bingo, what are you getting yourself into? The young man let out a quiet sigh of relief, hoping it would help to even out his nerves over the duration of their company. He didn't want to even think about how he might have felt if he'd really left her out there alone -- it likely would have haunted him back to find her before he could get out of the state.

Feeling safer the nearer they were to the car, Calavicci pushed through the dark toward his beloved car, intent on the thought that it provided a buffer between him and his new companion. Something of a breathing, burning memorial, the bright cherry speedster provided a kind of sick company (and the alcohol another.) Al didn't care. He needed her, that car.

Set adrift in his thoughts not for the first time of the evening, Bingo commiserated with himself. Pity was new, self-pity even newer. It felt wretched, and he'd drown it well enough in the beer and liquor before she'd shown up. Thankfully, she seemed a worthwhile distraction from all of his self-induced misery leaving Al to feel a bit lighter and more like himself.

He was just to the road again when he turned back to look at her. "Since I can't ask questions, hopefully statements will do. If I can help, you'll tell me. I can help if you need it." And he was certainly one for keeping his word.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

A large portion of Kara's life had been devoted to just the opposite of what Calavicci was offering - she hated asking for help. Sometimes, though, life was about overcoming what scared you - but just as often, it was about stubbornly ignoring those fears. Kara hadn't quite decided which side of that fine line she wanted to walk, so she just turned and took a step back toward the road.

"I think I need to sit," she said at last, forcing a bit of steel into her shaky voice. Her knee was throbbing after her little stroll back - further evidence she'd do better not to keep getting on the man's bad side. She needed help right now.

Hobbling (and hating herself for it), she made for the car, biting back a groan of agony. "Bring me another bottle," she gritted out - it might be worse for her in the long-run to get hammered, she figured she'd earned it.