The Night Shift: A Red Dead Redemption 2 AU

x. Getting Out of Town

The morning of the trip to Charles' cabin, Mia packed frantically, a not-insignificant part of her regretting yesterday's hasty acceptance of Arthur's invitation.

What kind of trip even is this? Arthur had called it a foraging trip; was that code for something? She frowned, looking between a cute pair of pyjamas and a decidedly hardy one, suited for nights in cold sleeping quarters. She didn't think Arthur was capable of rigging up a deliberate excuse to bring the two of them together; the man was honest to a fault. If he'd called it a foraging trip, it was a foraging trip, and she stuffed the warmer set into her bag. Besides, Charles would be there, too.

Why did I say yes? The answer to her self-asked question came just as quickly: Curiosity.

She looked over at Leviticus, remarking, "And we know what that does, don't we," aloud, before cluing into the cat's existence and adding, "holy shit!" She dashed down the hall to check in with her neighbour about looking after the cat for the next few days.

When she got back to her apartment, she startled at the sudden presence of Arthur, looking almost too big for the space in a blue duffel coat, a thermos in his gloved hands. He looked ready for time in the woods at least, validating a lot of her packing choices.

"Followed someone in," he said by way of greeting, thrusting the thermos toward her. "Brought that for you." It smelled enticingly of good coffee, and she smiled gratefully.

"You ready, Mia?" He asked, looking around at her apartment, the half-zipped overnight bag on her bed.

"Yep, just need to close that up and grab my coat."

"I got it," he said, stepping forward to close the bag and taking it with him, back down the stairs. She locked up and trailed after him with the lip of the thermos held between her teeth, buttoning her coat up.

There was a small, older-model hatchback parked in front of her building; through its rear windows she spotted outdoor equipment like snowshoes and fishing poles, another duffel bag, a big, battered cooler.

Mia got a better view of the backseat when Arthur opened the door to throw her bag in with the rest, then shut it and opened the passenger door, for her. "Thanks," she said, slipping past him to get into the car. She took a sip of the coffee; it was black and rich-tasting.

Arthur wrenched open the driver's side door and got in; the little car rocked gently on its axles as he sat down. He put his key in the ignition and turned the engine over, and then reached across to fiddle with the vents in front of Mia, directing more of them toward her.

"Sorry, I don't have none of them seat-warmers or anything," Arthur said, looking sheepish. He pulled into the road and headed for the highway, clearing his throat.

"I'm not after anything fancy," Mia said, taking another sip from the thermos. "This chef-made coffee is pretty good, though."

"Good," he said, falling back into silence as he navigated the sleepy, post-holiday roads out of town. She made a few attempts at conversation but they all faltered, Arthur focused on the roads as they turned into the highway, and then a smaller, rural route headed straight north. Snow started to appear, first tiny flakes blowing against the windshield and then larger clusters, blanketing the trees that fringed the road.

"It'll be nice to see Charles," she remarked, trying again to initiate a conversation. This turned out to be the exact wrong thing to say: Arthur blanched, and the car wavered a little on the road until he redoubled his grip on the wheel.

"Mia, shit, I can't believe I didn't say," he said, "Charles ain't there. He's visiting his family this week."

"Oh," she said, her stomach erupting in butterflies. A cabin, to just the two of them? Perhaps not just a foraging trip, after all.