Parole (Hypernaturals 7)

We Never Make French Roast

Morgan and I sat in the kitchen, diving into large omlets we just made with a high level of gusto. Crime scenes and making love are hungry work.

Jessica came out from the bedroom and saw we are fully dressed. Her eyebrows went together in question. "How long have you two been up? I woke up nearly alone! I hate that. You two should BE there."

"Hours. We went to a crime scene. Tommy killed again last night." I explained.

"Oh, shit!" Jessica explained. "Sorry: I guess waking up alone is better than YOUR night."

"That particular part: Yeah. Sit, love. Morgan and I will whip you up some food. We are done." I offered. We had each destroyed our breakfast. Maybe not record time, but near it.

Jessica sat, and Morgan slid a large mug of coffee in front of her. I started cracking eggs into the mixing bowl.

Morgan listened, and then asked Jessica "Are the others stirring?"

"I saw signs of life when I kissed Helen good morning. Yes." Jessica said.

"Didn't kiss me though." Rachel complained, entering the room

"Omelet?" Morgan asked

"Sounds good. Very good. I am famished." Rachel said. Morgan went over to Rachel and kissed her. "Good morning. I'll make up for Jessica's oversight."

"Morgan. You surprise me." Rachel said, touching her lips.

"Good." Morgan replied. "I like being unpredictable sometimes."

Morgan came back into the kitchen, and I looked at her and knew that had been another foray by Morgan to adapt. I kissed her. She responded. Without words, she knew I am telling her to take it at her speed. Not to force it. Not that Rachel is not kissable.

Jessica complained "Hey! If you are going to kiss Morgan then you damn well better be kissing me!"

Jessica was talking to me when she said that however, Rachel bent over before she sat and planted one on Jessica since she got the Morgan kiss before mine. Nothing about this morning is quite aligned at the moment.

Helen came out and put it mostly right by collecting kisses from the entire assemblage. She sat and had a coffee appear in front of her, which she smelled gratefully. "French Roast? We never make French Roast when we are in this country!"

I indicated Morgan with my head as I poured eighteen whipped eggs into a huge ceramic pan with hot Avocado Oil in it. "Morgan and I had cold brew, but Morgan made that for you in the little coffee pot, because she knows you like hot and French Roast. Special order. Speaking of that, while the eggs cook and turn into a massive Frittata, we have fresh fruit we picked up a bit ago. I can do some hash browns if you like. The eggs have broccoli and bacon in them and will have cheese before it lands in from of you. Any requests?"

"Can I have some French Roast too?" Rachel requested.

Helen suspiciously eyed Morgan and I buzzing around the kitchen over her cup. "Why are you two dressed already?"

"They were out last night. Crime scene. Tommy killed. All I know so far." Jessica told her.

"Oh? Any details?" Helen asked, leaning forward over her cup, and inhaling.

I heard Denise and Anne coming down the stairs, so we waited until they had coffee in front of them (Cold brew), and we called Carol in from outside where she is still watching the house. Third shift. Carol knew a bit more already because she talked to us on the way in.

With Carol at the table, now three of us are wearing clothes. I put a cold brew coffee in front of her.

Morgan, the experienced cop that she is, became the on-the-spot crime scene reporter. She talked as she helped me cook. Her reportage was complete, detailed, gave the medical details the Crew would want, the time frames, the whole crime scene thing. The DeWayne history and byplay was omitted.

When Morgan was done, Denise said to the assemblage: "You know what I like about assignments to this family? We get fed excellent food, we are not required to wear clothes most of the time, and they do all the Crew work, though it IS better when the boy bits are hanging out the way my girl ones are. I can't complain though: we just tidy up when they're done. This is the Crew lifestyle. Screw all the killing and hunting and shit."

"We don't get handed tea all the time anymore. Sometimes we have to make it for ourselves." Anne pointed out.

"Poor girl. The price of being designated 'family'. It's Adrian's family rule, and we are all Adrian's family, so you are just going to have to buck up somehow." Helen snarked.

"Yeah, but I'm with Denise: Usually when I am making my own tea at least there are some boy buns to look at." Anne replied. She indicated Denise "I see that stuff all the damn time. Nice as far as it goes, but still..."

"Can I assume you all have a way to intercept bodies on the way to the M.E.'s office?" I steered the conversation away from my body. "Because: the human authorities are not slouches and they are onto Tommy now, and they will shoot his ass dead before asking any questions after seeing the way he killed that poor guy."

"Yeah. We are already set up for that, and all the regional M.E. watches are on high alert. If Tommy's body shows up in the Gulf Coast or central Texas, we'll know. This one's easy, because he hasn't had time to get a lot of metal in his bones or anything. Simple face removal if we can't arrange to get the whole body." Carol replied

"Oh. OK. As long as removing his face is easy then." I was a little sarcastic. Maybe more than a little.

"I get it. I hear you. The less disruptive what we have to do is, the better." Carol told me, with a shrug that added 'what can you do?'

"I know, I know. Your job sucks. I am glad I don't have it." I semi-apologized for the sarcasm.

"Except you and your entire family keep doing it. As I said: France? Siren Hall? Mexico? Drug Lords? Sirens. HPA. Shit. You are into every fucking thing we do." Denise pointed out. "...Except fucking of course. Next Conclave for sure... Me first. I called dibs."

"Speaking of normal Crew jobs, did that plane Adrian and I crashed ever pop up on anyones radar? It's been years!" Jessica asked Denise.

Denise laughed. "Like I said: You guys should be Crew. No. Still not found."

"I looked at a recent high-resolution satellite map of the area, out of curiosity. You can't tell a plane is there from space. Maybe sand covered it up, or plants grew over it, but there is nothing." Anne reported.

After breakfast was finished, a few more references to the next Conclave and my fate therein were made, and the dishes washed or in the washer, the Crew members went to report into the Crew high muckity mucks and then to start plugging into the APD information sources to get more about last night's murder, above and beyond what we might get from DeWayne. Carol went to take a nap, and Morgan and I decided a shower and then four hours of shuteye would be good. Helen and Jessica joined us in the shower, and then went off to play with babies at the RV park. Helen really needed Rachel to have a long meal, as her breasts ached with milk.

As I was drifting off, I saw Morgan laying on her side and looking at me. "What?" I asked

"Nothing. Just looking." Morgan replied.

I slid my arm under her, above her hip, and rotated myself to face her. I pulled her to me and buried my face in her wet hair, wrapping a leg over hers, and snugging her in tight to my body.

"Look later. Hold me now. There. Better." I drifted off that way, one of her arms over me and tracing delicate patterns on my back.

"I love you." Morgan whispered. The last thing I heard before I was gone.