Solace & Taproots

2.8

The rain was passing on by the time Bex rose — she caught the last little sprinkles just in time to at least get her hands, face, and safety glasses a cursory rinse. Rufus was a little skeptical of the others for now, seemingly content to stay by her side but getting antsy if anyone approached. Ronnie stayed at a respectful distance, but looked over her disheveled state and chuckled. "Oh, Sam is going to kill you over what you did to her hard work. You better hope she likes dogs."

Despite the gentle mockery, Ronnie provided another length of paracord, which Bex used to fashion a leash between Rufus' collar and her belt with a simple half-hitch that could pull away in case of emergency. After that was sorted out, she pulled her phone from her backpack and switched to selfie mode for a quick look and groaned. The braids had gone completely wobbly, and her hair and neck were streaked with caked dust and mud. It seemed that Rufus' affection had actually improved matters for her face, even though she could tell she still mildly stank of dog spit amongst the wafts of storm drain muck, cordite, sweat, and antiseptic from her arm. Oh well. She'd probably think it was funny later, so she took a picture crouched down with the big meathead and tagged it as a favorite alongside some of her pictures with Ronnie, and with Jaime in the rooftop garden. Thinking of how Jaime would have liked Rufus felt better and hurt less than she expected it to.

Pat spoke up (a rarity) as they were about to leave, mentioning that he and Chris had seen a pet store on some of their previous... uh... walks... that wouldn't be too far out of their way after they retrieved the hand cart and larger "bag o' loot". This got him a warm smile of thanks from Bex where she stood several feet away with her big lovable mutt.

The trip to both stops went smoothly enough, and she was able to scavenge a real leash, doggie saddlebags, a large bagful of assorted toys, another of treats and canned dog food, and two bags of dry kibble with a mental note to come back for more. She also came away with a few new scrapes when she used an elbow pad instead of a gun butt to smash in the locked case holding flea treatments, and a full-sized plastic-bodied shopping cart to pile it all in.

Chris was very excited about the cart, and tasked Pat with securing another. She promptly deposited his backpack and hers in it when he returned, and shook her head bemusedly when she saw two bowls already in it and another bag of kibble and a waterproof dog bed on the shelf underneath. Allegedly, they'd all been right there alongside the cart where he found it in the back room.

This was almost as plausible as Rhonda's attempt at a stern disapproving face and disdainful tone when she pointed out Bex forgot about grooming supplies, and threw a handful of combs, brushes, and nail clippers into the first cart. "I don't know how else you were expecting to get that mangy mutt squared away and presentable. What would you do without me..."

Seb, for his part, took to pushing the first cart down the street, mumbling about her arm and leaving her free to watch for trouble as he plunked his SMG down in the cart's child seat. She gave him even odds for being helpful or continuing a campaign to try and get in her pants... but that didn't really differ from everything else he'd done to date. Uh, maybe a bad phrasing choice there. Let's go with 'before now' instead. Either way, at least he was being useful.

That left her and Rufus free to walk point, with Seb pushing the cart behind her, Patrick and Chris trading off between pulling the hand truck and leaning on the shopping cart carrying their packs, and Ronnie bringing up the rear and reporting their progress over the radio. Another Sierra patrol was routed to escort them home and they all felt the strains of the prior days start to fade as the sun poked through the first gaps in the clouds.

**

Broadway / "C.S. D-3" didn't really have the wherewithal for a parade, but their return was definitely anticipated and a source of commotion. Sam, Erik, and the comms team were excited to start picking their brains about all of the high tech salvage they couldn't bring with them, and David wanted as much intel about Black Tusk as he could pump out of Seb for his contacts in the military remnants. Lassart, of course, wanted a "full debrief", without actually telling them what that meant to him.