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

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

"Not far." He was not exaggerating. If it wasn't evident before that he had concern for her overall well-being, then perhaps it shone through when he drove the car less than a full block down the road to a rather inconspicuous looking two-story house. There was nothing to set it apart from the other homes and businesses nearby, making it the least likely of all their choices to garner military attention.

Bingo turned to his passenger to explain. "I'm going to put the car some place quiet, and then I'll come back around to pay for the room." He offered over a cigarette and matches from the bar, his face the picture of unspoken understanding. "You wanna wait around here?" He was hoping it would provide her with at least a little relief, and the porch swing was well-enough hidden she could rest there. It was a bonus, Al felt, that there was only one step to ascend.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara nodded tersely, trying valiantly (and failing miserably) not to let on how much pain she was in. She climbed out of the car and took the first seat she could, fully appreciating the tree casting shade across the wide porch. Why anyone would chose to live in the gods-damned desert, she'd never know.

Of course, she couldn't give over to the pain for too long - it just wasn't in her nature. By the time Calavicci returned from his errand, Kara was up and walking the length of the porch again, trying desperately to work out the knots. She glanced up at him in clear defiance, but didn't say anything. Tucking the unlit cigarette behind her ear and pocketing the matches, she walked through the front door and tried her best to look unassuming among the furnishings of the fussy front room.

A small, birdlike woman was perched behind a well-loved desk, and she glanced up at Kara, giving her a pointed, sour look over half-moon spectacles. "May I help you?"

Kara glanced back at the Lieutenant, hoping he'd pipe up with an answer as she was sure anything that came out of her mouth would likely land her on her ass in the street.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Any sharpness Albert possessed was removed as he addressed the civilian behind the counter. "We'd like a room, ma'am."

She turned her head sharply to Calavicci. "Two beds," she clucked and placed a room key noisily onto the surface between them. "Twenty a night. Breakfast is at seven -- that's oh-seven-hundred, Lieutenant -- and you can check out by leaving your key and the money at the dropbox at the main house."

Wow, the honor system. Bingo didn't think people worked that way anymore outside of the suburbs. "Just a night, ma'am." He retrieved his wallet and placed a crisp twenty dollar bill on the counter to the left of the keys. "Thank you."

Whether it was Calavicci's attitude, or the fact that Thrace looked ashen that made the attendant obviously wary was unclear. She seemed to be giving the male half quite the unrestrained stares. He took it in stride, but much longer would prove to make him feel quite uncomfortable, Al thought.

Receipt, keys, and then they parted awkward ways with the woman. "Lady's a bit... strange, don't you think?" But then, who was he to talk? They weren't exactly the most normal looking pair, and they were checking in pretty early in the morning for most of the establishment's usual clientele. "Gave me the willies," he explained, realizing in retrospect that it had probably been the womans very beady black eyes giving him issue. "She didn't seem real."

They made it to the foyer just in time to realize the assigned destination happened to be on the second floor. Al pointed up at the room designated "2B." He offered his arm for her, feeling quite chivalrous.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara shook her head and nodded up the steps. "Go. I'll follow." Her refusal was only partly due to stubborn pride - really, she just thought she'd do better to climb the stairs with the aid of the banister.

Somehow, she ascended the stairs, biting the inside of her lip hard in order to focus her attention on anything but the screaming pain working its way up her leg. Once she was through the door, she collapsed onto the closest bed in an undignified heap. Distantly, Kara realized she wanted a shower and something to eat, but both were more than she could manage. For the moment, it was enough to stretch her leg and relax against the well-worn chenille comforter.

Throwing her arm over her eyes, she addressed Calavicci in an unrepentantly weary voice. "I just need a coupla hours. You stayin'?" Not that it was important to her that he do so or anything - she just, um, needed to know.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

"Am I--?" Al smirked. "I paid for the room, didn't I? Of course I'm staying." But it wasn't like he was acting too much a fool over her question; He did what he needed to do to make it look like he wasn't worried. Something told him she wouldn't outright appreciate it, especially after her act at the stairs.

This was when Al took to lighting one of the cigarettes he'd managed to wrangle. After his initial inhale, he took a seat on the other bed and looked across the gap at his cohort. "If I end up goin' out later, can I bring you something?" Better to ask now than need to wake her later.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

She turned looked up him from under her arm. "You got a plane I can fly outta this place?" With a small laugh that didn't contain much humor, she shook her head. "I don't need anything, but thanks." Kara closed her eyes and let the slowly turning fan overhead cool her sweat-damp skin.

Within minutes, Kara had drifted off to sleep. For most of the day, she slept like the dead. When she finally woke, the throbbing in her knee had become a dull ache than made Kara's guts twist. She sat up slowly, looking around. Calavicci was sleeping soundly in the next bed and from his wristwatch on the nightstand, she learned she'd slept almost thirteen hours. As if the number made the realization into reality, hunger rolled over her like a wave.

She climbed out of bed and went to the tiny en suite bath. Kara looked longingly at the shower, but knew she wouldn't be able to manage it; if she were to fall, would anyone hear her? Not that she especially wanted to be gathered up off the floor, naked and wet and dependent like a child. No, better to just wash up and get back into bed.

Back in the bedroom, she noticed a covered dish on the bureau. To Kara's delight, it turned out to be a cold supper of chicken and a baked potato. She ate her fill, trying not to devour the food as she didn't wish to wretch it back up after so many hours without. When she was through, she climbed back into bed, burrowing under the blankets. It was thanks to her full stomach she was able to drift off once more, but she slept fitfully until dawn thanks to her knee. As she lay in the murky pre-dawn light, she debated with herself whether to wake the young lieutenant or if she should just swipe his keys, some cash, and make a dash for it.

Lucky for Al, though, Kara'd never been the sort to run.