Tuna

Carson breathes in time with his jog, enjoying the company this morning. He lets out chuckle at Misty’s comment. “Well I get to be cooped up all day inside, what’s a bloke to do? Going out and shooting people isn’t exactly something I should be doing anymore, so what else can I do with all this energy?”

He grins as they round a corner. “Besides, I got a little old lady in number three-twenty-five up here who watches me out her window every morning and waves…she’ll probably be jealous you’re with me this morning. And…there’s a black lab that likes to chase me on Tuesdays two blocks over…and then when it rains, I got puddles everywhere to get myself drenched. What more could I ask for?”

Glancing to the side, he can see the Misty is getting tired, but says nothing. He remains at a steady pace until they loop back around several blocks, heading back to her place, then he slows to a walk, breathing heavily himself. He’d be putting quite a bit more distance under himself when jogging with Misty because he looped back around and still had to get back home, but it was definitely worth it to have the company.


Scott gives a little shake to his head, ignoring what was going through his own mind, and listening to Katie instead. “This is the first time I’ve been the one people have had to rescue.”

Seeing Domino, he grins a little. “Poor pup is used to going out as soon as I get up in the mornings.” After Katie leaves, Scott closes his eyes again, heaving a weary sigh. He could still sense the helplessness….the fear he’d felt the night before, and it wasn’t pleasant. But he knew he had to think about it…he had to remember everything…he knew good and well Reese would be questioning him later.


Jason slows and turns again as Nate speaks. The words were deep…meaningful…and despite the barrier, Jason receives them and tucks them away for a later time when he felt more up to deciphering them.

As he walks away, he suddenly feels eyes on his back and looks over his shoulder. Seeing Katie, he watches her for just a moment before turning back around and going to his office.


Domino stops with Katie, then looks up to her, wondering why they aren’t moving. Tugging at her leash, she gives just a little bark, wanting to go out more than just stand here staring at people.


A few minutes pass, and being alone, Scott pulls back his blanket and carefully sits up, his head spinning just a bit. Cringing, he slides off the bed and wobbles on his feet for a moment.

“Scott Johnson, what are you doing?!” Rick enters the room, tossing a file aside. “Get back in bed this instant.”

Scott grimaces at him. “Are you telling me that I can’t even use the bathroom?”

Rick looks at him sternly, pointing to the bed. “I don’t want you on your feet. I’ll get you a…”

“Ohhh, no.” Scott gives Rick a warning glance. “Don’t even think about it. You are not keeping me bedridden.” He winces as he gets a sharp pain to his injured ribs. “Leave me my dignity and I’ll leave the doctoring to you. But I win this one.”

Rick throws up his hands in defeat. “Why me?” he grumbles to no one. “I work in a place of bull-headed idiots, none of which want to take care of themselves.”
He looks back to Scott and shakes his head. “Fine. But can I at least help you?”

Scott rolls his eyes. “What am I? Three?”


Mick chuckles and roughs up BJ’s hair before squatting down to be eye-level with him. “I know it, bud. You’re very strong. But this morning you’re gonna have to stay with your…” Mick stops himself. He was speaking words he hadn’t in so long, and yet they had almost rolled right of his tongue without him even thinking. “…With Rosetta. But when I get back, I’m gonna need your help unloading the corn so those horses have something to eat.”

Giving BJ a playful tweak on his cheek, Mick stands up again. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Turning, he heads outside and to his truck that had the stock trailer already hitched up.


Clint grimaces at the black smoke and steps out from behind the steering wheel. “Alright…I might look at it a bit more – got nothing better to do until Mr. Pinton brings that Firebird of his in.” As Wes walks away, Clint starts to poke and prod, continuing to tinker with the engine.


Cindy backs away to survey her handy work of the kitchen. She gives a satisfied nod to herself. It looked good and she still had time to make those tuna sandwiches that Wes liked so much. She hadn’t made them in ages.

Going to the cupboard she retrieves the tuna and gets a few things from the fridge as well. Using the can opener, she gets the tuna open. As the smell of the fish hits her nose, her stomach performs an unexpected flipflop, making her gag. What on earth? Covering her mouth, she quickly puts the can in a bag, sealing it shut. Tuna had never bothered her in her life. How bizarre. Maybe it was just a bad can. Trying a second one though, proved to be fatal, sending her to the sink to throw up. This was not good.

Disgusted, Cindy recovers enough to discard both cans and take a breather before thinking up something else. She hadn’t been feeling so great lately – perhaps the strong scent was just as little too much for her today. Wes would just have to have egg salad sandwiches instead.