by thedoctor, Sonhaven and Captain Sammitch
Dirk Bell returned to his room.
The team had found temporary housing in the neighboring village while the apartment complex was being rebuilt. Del Mar was a quaint town. It didn't resemble the touristy Puerta Mibela. It was a smaller town that only saw the occasional tourist there on a hike or bike ride. The fishing industry was what kept this town alive. And that was going sour as of late.
As a matter of fact, the building that Kit Piper had found for them to use was an old office building for the one of the bankrupt fishing companies with the processing plant right next door. It wasn't so bad, as long as the wind didn't come out of the north. Because of the building's ever-present smell, which varied in strength but never went away entirely, the team fondly referred to their new headquarters as the Fish Factory.
The MBL thought that they'd be welcomed with open arms after their heroics in the hurricane. Dirk, Grimm, and Blackwulf saw that that wasn't really true. The people of Del Mar were never too fond of the capital city of Puerta Mibela. The island's political scene was controlled by foreigners and people of more European and American heritage than that of the local populace. It had become a haven for corrupt CEO's and organized crime kingpins who took advantage of La Perdita's lack of extradition treaties. Too many of the residents of the quiet village felt that the disaster was God's way of cleansing La Perdita. Dirk never bothered to ask Tayden if that was so. So far, the team had been met with indifference. No one faulted them for saving lives, but some didn't think it was nice to mess with God's plan. But this was home for the team for now. They'd just have to get used to it until the complex was rebuilt.
Dirk sat down to watch the news. Hopefully they would have stopped all the special interest stories about how the rich, white, upper-crust citizens of Puerta Mibela were doing after losing their yachts in the storm.
"Oh, Christ," Dirk mumbled as the wind shifted and came from out of the north.
"He doesn't like that, you know."
Dirk didn't turn toward where the voice sprang from; he knew it was Tayden. "I'm not too fond of the smell of dead fish myself," Dirk retorted.
"You know what I mean... the blasphemy." Tayden grimaced.
Dirk stared out of the window toward the north and, without any hint of emotion, simply said, "Oh."
"Don't you care, Dirk, about the Gift... Christ's sacrifice?" Tayden asked in a very serious tone.
Dirk didn't want to waste even a moment debating a guy calling himself an angel about theology, so he sighed and said, "It's not about caring. Right now, what's on my mind is the reek in the air and what we're going to do next." Dirk paused, turned his eyes toward Tayden, and continued, "Let... it... go."
Tayden's countenance relaxed, and he looked outside. "It's your right to do what you want. I just don't like to hear it. I will not bother you about it. It's just... hard."
"You should know from observation that being human ain't easy," Dirk said.
"That's not what I meant," Tayden commented. "I meant it's hard remembering... standing in the legion... waiting for Him to say come and get me off this cross... and then not getting the order... watching Him suffer... and then hearing one of those He suffered for use his name in vain... to comment on the smell of dead fish."
Dirk and Tayden then just gazed out toward the water for what seemed like forever.
Phil Smith knocked on Leslie Kline's door. After a few moments, the female bounty hunter came to the door, running a curling iron through her hair. "Yeah?"
"The team is gonna be leaving soon," Phil said. "Some of 'em, anyway."
Leslie's eyes widened. "You're not going, are you?"
Phil shook his head. "Three cracked ribs and a concussion were enough to convince me that I'm much better at the Mission: Impossible stuff than the whole superhero game. I'm helping Grissom over at the apartment building back in Puerta Mibela."
"Sounds fine, hon," Leslie said, putting down her curling iron and running her fingers through her luxuriant auburn hair. "What kind of work will you be doing?"
"Masonry and woodwork," Phil lied. "Construction stuff. Nothing interesting."
"You sure?" Leslie asked.
Phil nodded. "Yeah. Maybe some electrical work," he added, attempting to placate his conscience. "My point is that I'll be staying there for a couple nights, and I wanted to know if you'd be okay staying here in Del Mar."
Leslie frowned. "I don't know, Phil. This is still a strange place to me. The native people don't seem very friendly, and I'm still trying to sort out all these metahumans with their weird powers." She put a hand on Phil's arm. "I would feel a lot safer if you were with me," she pleaded.
Phil rolled his eyes. "You know you're not going to be able to charm me into giving you what you want, Leslie," he reminded her.
"It works on everyone else," she said, pouting.
"Well, I can't read your mind unless you ask me to," Phil said, "so I guess that makes us even." He thought a moment. "Well, come to think of it, I don't really want anything bad to happen to you. And I could use the company. Griss is a nice guy, but as a heterosexual male, metahuman or not, I enjoy having a beautiful woman around whenever the opportunity presents itself." He winked at her. "Yeah, you can come along, if you don't mind trading the fish factory for a half-destroyed apartment complex."
Leslie smiled. "Thanks." She kissed Phil on the cheek. "You're a sweetheart."
"But," Phil said, "this is La Perdita, and I can't guarantee that weird stuff won't happen. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee that it will. So you might have to help Griss and I out if by chance trouble comes along. And just remember: if anything happens to either of us, you're on your own."
"Fair enough." Leslie beamed at him. "You're the greatest, Phil." She tried to kiss him again, but Phil ducked away subtly.
"That's all for now," Phil said flatly. "I'll be by to help you move some of your things later." He turned and walked off down the hall.
Leslie frowned. For several weeks, she had tried her best to break the ice, but nothing had really worked. Phil could be very polite and kind to her, and he seemed to enjoy spending time with her, but every time Leslie made a serious romantic approach, Phil seemed to retreat into some sort of invisible shell. She would have thought he was playing mind games with her if she didn't know better.
Maybe the next couple days might give Leslie a chance to win Phil's trust and maybe even break the ice between them.
There was only one way to find out.