The Rough Riders

Chapter Three

A loud, metallic clanging was followed by a grunt and a 'TWANG' before a dull thump heralded the beginning of what was, for Slate, the morning.

By the clock, it was six in the evening, and the vampires were stirring. Kitty's off-tune singing could be heard from the kitchen, accompanied by the smell of good old Folgers coffee. Slate pushed the heavy quilt back and swung his feet to the floor, rubbing blearily at his eyes.

A door opened and closed. There were no audible footsteps, but that was always how Jack moved—silently, swiftly and without the same sense of self that always pulled eyes to Nathan when he walked into a room. Another door opened and didn't close, but Nathan's steps were audible, stumbling along the hallway as he followed in Jack's wake to get first crack at the coffee.

Slate was always the last one up, a far cry from his mortal days when he had hit the floor running by the crack of dawn. He shuffled from bed to bathroom and paused, as always, by the toilet. There was no need to relieve himself—he was, after all, undead—but he flipped the lid up and let it drop. That thump of a dropping toilet lid was the last noise he needed to come wholly awake.

By the time he'd shaved down the stubble that he'd died with, run a wet comb through his hair and swapped pajama pants for jeans and a t-shirt, the bickering was already going.

"-out of my way!"

"It's not my big ass in front of the fridge."

"Don't be jealous just because you can't touch it."

"Will you just hand me the fucking blood already?"

"Quit cursing at me!"

"I'll quit cursing at you when you move your fat ass!"

Kitty and Nathan were nose to nose when Slate stumbled into the kitchen, boots dangling from one hand. His socked feet slid a little on the linoleum and he smiled approvingly at Kitty. His baby girl took good care of the house; she'd even waxed the floors the previous night. "Grab me a cup, wouldja kitten?"

At the sound of his voice, the blonde turned away from Nathan, bumping him with her shoulder, and smiled at Slate, her eyelashes already batting. "Of course!"

Nathan had to step back, relinquishing ground with a grumble, and crossed his arms as Kitty bustled to the cupboard to pull down the battered Dallas Cowboys mug that absolutely no one in the house touched, save Kitty and Slate. There'd been a quick, painful lesson on that when Nathan and Jack had first arrived. A second lesson hadn't been necessary.

Although he was always one of the first ones moving, Thomas didn't move into the kitchen until Slate's coffee had been served. It took that long for Jack and Nathan to finish their first cups and arrange themselves at the far end of the room, leaning against the counter with identical expressions of disgruntled wakefulness. One of them usually threw elbows and the other would reciprocate. It wasn't morning until someone got thrown across the room.

Slate's gaze shifted to the wall, bare of adornment, that had a deep dent in the plaster. If he squinted, he could make out the breadth of Nathan's shoulders in the dent, and the hollows where Jack had struck, usually fist-first.

"G'dmornin'," Thomas mumbled, trying to ghost past the table. Kitty reached out and caught his wrist, opening her green eyes to their widest, and giggled.

"No sneaking around, you," she said, tugging on Thomas' arm. "Come on, I'll get your cup."

The chair didn't creak under Thomas' slight weight. Although the Formica table and the chrome chairs had seen better days, he was still light enough to manage them without causing the supporting steel to complain.

Every time Slate sat down for his morning coffee, laced with his preferred type AB negative, the chair let out a groan and creaked alarmingly. He shifted his weight, bracing himself to avoid making the chair shriek at the movement, and took another sluck. "Whatcha'll got planned for the night?"

"Hunting."

Jack and Nathan spoke in unison, and the elbows began flying. Slate glanced at the far end of the kitchen and shifted his weight, dragging the chair to the left. He ducked in time to avoid Nathan as the man hurtled overhead and slammed into the wall. "What 'bout you, kitten?"

Kitty stepped over Nathan and went for the sink, her empty cup in hand. "Shopping! There's a new store on Walnut that has new dresses in, and I called yesterday so they said they'd stay open tonight for me." She glanced at Thomas as she turned the water on. "Someone needs to get fitted for a tux soon since the maschera is coming up." The Italian word was pronounced more like 'mascara,' but Thomas only nodded, hunching his shoulders.

"Okay. Do we get the rehearsal hall this week?" He moved with eerie, liquid speed, sliding neatly from one chair to the next when Jack leapt over the table, tackling Nathan back to the floor.

"Uh-huh! I made sure to reserve it every night for at least three hours." Kitty sauntered to the table and insinuated herself onto Slate's lap. His arm slid around her waist, one leg shifting to let her sit comfortably, and none of them looked when Jack went flying across the kitchen to slam into the refrigerator. Nathan dove after him, meeting uplifted fists, and the two rolled across the polished linoleum, exchanging blows and snarls.

Thomas took another sip of his coffee, grimaced and pushed the cup away. "You didn't put enough blood in, Kitty."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sugar! Here, I'll g-"

"No, it's okay. I'm going hunting anyway." He paused, plucking at his jeans, and glanced at Slate. "Were you going to the bookstore tonight? If not, I was g-going to go by and see if she was busy."

Slate and Kitty exchanged a look; her eyes were sparkling. He cleared his throat, jostling the blonde by jiggling his leg, and she giggled at the 'ride' before snuggling against him. "Was thinkin' about it," Slate said, moving a bit to let Kitty reach his wallet. "She got hours she's open?"

Thomas shook his head and left his chair, moving quickly to the pantry and opening the door to slip inside of it as Jack caught the leg of the now-vacant chair and swung it around, slamming Nathan across the back with it. The Naugahyde seat bounced when it struck the floor. Slate leaned down, Kitty held securely with one arm, and caught it with his free hand.

"I think she's open all night." Thomas stepped back into the kitchen and took the chair seat from Slate, retrieved the frame and turned it about, examining the damage. With a screech of bending metal, he straightened the back and replaced the seat before sitting back down. "I didn't see anything with specific hours." He reached for his wallet. "Do you want her card? To call her first?"

"Nah, I'll just swing on by and iffen she ain't open, I'll come on home." Slate quirked a brow, reached between Kitty's breasts and extracted the three credit cards she'd slipped from his wallet. "Not all of 'em, kitten. Only one."

"Just onnnnnnnnnnnnnnne?" Pouting, she looked at the single card he handed her and her lashes began to fan once more. "But how can I get all the accessories I neeeeeeeeeeeeeed? It'll cost more than just one caaaaaaaaaaaaard."

"Kitten."

The pout remained, but Kitty sighed and shoved the credit card back into her cleavage. "Fiiiiiiiiiine. But if I look awful at the maschera, it's your fault."

A cupboard door hurtled across the room; Slate put his hand on Kitty's head and pushed her down to stay out of the trajectory. He glanced at the far end of the kitchen and raised his voice. "Iffen y'all rip up the damn kitchen, you're gonna be puttin' it back together."

There were a couple of quick thumps before Jack pulled himself off of the counter and tugged his shirt down. With a kick to Nathan's ribs, he hopped forward to evade the other man's grab and ran a hand through his hair. "So you gonna go to that bookstore, Slate? I'll drop you off. Needed to get some hay for the horses before I go hunting."

"A'ight." Kissing Kitty's cheek, Slate set her on the table before he drained his cup and gave his head a quick shake. Tugging on his boots, he flicked the cupboard door back at Nathan. "You get that put back on right before I get home."

Although there was soft muttering, Nathan went for the junk drawer and fished out a screwdriver as the other vampires left the kitchen.