Participants:
| Scene Title | Exfil Station |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Monica comes by to encourage Cesar to come home again. |
| Date | January 6, 2019 |
The quiet clop of hooves offers a steady beat by which Cesar swings along in counter rhythm of an unheard rumba. Lashed to the saddle, a couple of rabbits accompanies the light movements of the man. “Hace mucho frió, no, Fermito? Se me van a caer mis huevos enseguida, coño… pero no es que tengas este problema.” The man chuckles to himself, but the horse lacks a response outside of a snort of breath. Cesar reaches over to pat the gelding’s neck comfortingly with a gloved hand.
“Aw don’t be mad like that,” he soothes, “come on, let’s get a move on into town, maybe see if Reena’s got something good for you.” A soft squeeze of his legs encourages the horse to pick up the pace.
He can hear the car well before he sees it coming down the broken road. But it follows the sound soon enough, although it slows down when it gets closer to him. In sight of the driver, perhaps. The passenger side window lowers when the vehicle comes up alongside him, barely rolling along, so as not to spook the horse.
"Hey handsome," Monica says, leaning over to keep him in her line of sight, "how do you feel about some company?" Her vision the night before, as well as a few others with his face in them, brought her out here, but she's not assuming he experienced the same thing, so any nerves are hidden far under a crooked smile and easy tone.
A light tug of the reins from Cesar turns Fernet-Me-Not to walk along the road rather than on it. It’s only polite horseback rider etiquette and all. But when the car slows to a roll, Cesar turns to look at the sleek vehicle with a puzzled blink and tilts his head to get a look at the driver rolling down her window.
“M— Nica…?” For a split second, he’s astonished to see her leaning over and the sight of her gets a silly smile. That is, until her remembers where he is, what he was doing, and he looks up and down the road. Her question gets an answer eventually in the form of a clicked tongue and a swing of Cesar’s legs from the saddle. The man literally getting off his high horse, rather, he dismounts so that he can approach the car’s passengerside window on an easier conversation window. Letting the reins for his horse slacken, he leans on the car. “Where the hell’d you pick up this import?” Obviously joking, he means the car.
“Shit, it’s good to see you again,” he remarks after, less joking and more sincere. Something about his gaze shows a click of relief for the sight of her even as it had all those months ago in the middle of a death trap airplane cargo bay. But then, brows crease. “You doing okay? What’s brought you down here?”
"Hey Dom," Monica says with a wry smile. She looks back over the car's interior, like she's looking at it for the first time. "It's a company car," she says when she looks back at him.
Her smile softens when he goes on and she tilts her head as if she isn't sure why she's here herself. She considers her words for a long moment, not sure how honest to be just now. Looking at him makes her want to tell him everything. The visions, their alternate life, her own confused feelings.
Instead:
"I missed your face." She gives him a sly smile, just a hint that she might miss more than just his face. "I thought maybe it was time for you to come back to the Safe Zone. For good."
The crease in Cesar’s brow smoothes out in reflection of her softened, then sly smile, and he quirks one back at her. “Oh, you mean you missed this face?” He rubs a couple of fingertips along the slight stubble of his day old shave. At first he looks away down the road, stalling in his response for the sake of holding on to that moment and avoiding coming to conclusions too quickly.
“You talked to Vincenzo? Hope he’s doing okay.” The stand-in of Secretary Lazarro’s name used shows how far along he’s come for the sake of a cover. “That being said, you’re right, I have been feeling a bit homesick,” admits Cesar as he looks back to Monica then. His steady gaze on her is telling - there’s a lot behind it including his own run-ins with visions and alternate lives.
Just when it seems like his eyes are glimmering with a sheen, he blinks. The horse grazing on the sparse grass behind him blows out a snort, catching Cesar’s attention. And reminds him. “Shit, what about Fernie,” he swears softly.
"I remembered it having a cleaner shave," Monica says, her words coming on a gentle chuckle. As if a day-old shave would make him any less handsome. "I talked to him after my last visit. Sent him a little package." Of information, but she's sure he remembers that part. "I think he wouldn't mind seeing you again. We all know how much he likes you."
Monica meets his gaze, her expression tipping toward serious. Questioning. Maybe a little hopeful.
But his mention of the horse saves her from having to deal with any of that. Instead, she laughs. "Well. Either this car pulls Fernie or Fernie pulls this car." She understands the impulse to keep an animal found on a mission, after all. "Or I guess I could drive slower and you could ride him back. Do you need to go get anything? Or can I just whisk you away?"
The mention of the cleaner shave has Cesar running a fingertip along his chin, measuring the length of his beard along with covering (poorly) his amusement. “Bet that info really curled his toes,” muses the man mildly. Distractedly. There was a lot to process in the revelations following that operation out west.
But seeing the look on Monica’s face with that faint glimmer of hope, followed by her laugh, tips him over in decision. “I can ride into town and see about puttin’ him up somewhere,” he replies after a beat and several nods of thought, “and I got a bug-out bag stashed in one of the barns. Meet me at the far end of town in a few, past the church.”
He clicks his tongue to call his horse back over, strokes the gelding’s muzzle a few times before mounting up. “I’d say I’d race you, but we all know who’d win,” he remarks with a warm, humored laugh. And a lingering gaze. Then he breaks off the look and urges the horse into a quick stride down the road. Knowing what waits at the other end of it makes the desire to get there all the more.
"I always win, Diaz," Monica says with a grin and she doesn't waste time getting her head start. She's off to the far end of town without another word, leaving him to wrap up his business here at his own pace.
A Few Minutes Later
She proves to be patient, though, because she waits out past the church, perched on the hood of the car with some music playing from her phone. She's off far enough not to draw too much attention, but not so far that he wouldn't be able to find her. Her cybernetic hand spins a pen between its fingers, something to keep herself from getting twitchy while she sits.
Having arranged some boarding with Reena for Fernet-Me-Not, Cesar eventually emerges from the treeline sans horse, plus B.O.B. The months have seen the bag strapped over his shoulder grow with a few sentimental items gained over his time with the communities of Sedro-Woolley and Providence. Dominic, supposed thief with a heart of gold, had proven himself steady on as the others. And now he was leaving to in pursuit of other wanderings. Okay fine, a woman.
Sharp-minded Reena could see through that act pretty damn well.
Without so much as a word, Cesar rapidly approaches Monica at her car and reaches for her arm - the not robotic one - to pull her in for a long-awaited, much-needed plant of a kiss. Quick note that he’s gotten his breath freshened up for it, some time in between the waiting.
When Cesar reappears, Monica smiles warmly. And when he approaches, that smile turns a little more sly. He finds her easy to pull in, and she presses into that kiss like she intends to make up for lost time. Her arms wrap around him, her legs tangle with his. And she doesn't let him go again until she actually needs to breathe. Even then, she doesn't go far, just enough to be able to look up at him.
"I haven't had to think about how roomy a backseat is since school," she says with a crooked smile, "but you're making me regret how far away my bedroom is right now." Because there's more that's been waiting than just kisses.
A low laugh escapes Cesar’s wanting lips just as she pulls back. She can tell how far gone he is by the pointed look he reciprocates with on mention of a backseat compared to a bedroom. “Well,” he responds after unshouldering the strap of his bug-out bag and tossing it into the grass beside the car wheel, “the best part is that right now… you don’t need to think about it.”
Shortly after saying that, the man’s words drop off for another kiss and scooping her up to head back to see just how roomy this particular model happens to be.