Black Mirror

Chapter 2 - Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

Whatever the state of their relationships and feelings, those dorks are adorable af (if you don't mind me sounding like Elliot Wake for a moment - you've probably never heard of him, so shame on you!) and I love them. I'm rooting for them to live long and prosper together in this green-skied afterlife. They've got something Kensi and I don't have...although I've been feeling someone's eyeballs beholding my backside while I lie in bed for the past couple of months or so. Which could be the real reason why I've found myself sleeping in only a T-shirt and panties lately. What can I say? I may have sworn off relationships for the time being, but I can't deny enjoying the attention from someone so cute.

"So where exactly is our first stop on this whirlwind tour?" I ask, hoping to get back to business and distract myself from my love-based preoccupations.

"A place called the Chapel of the Holy Cross," says Russell. "It's a constant in both universes and all three Prime dimensions, so it's one of the most important places there is."

Gabe looks up for a moment, and I half-expect him to say something rude about the very idea of going to a chapel. But no, he doesn't. Instead, he says, "Good. I needed to have a heart-to-heart with God."

"Everyone could always do with one," Russell says sagely.

"Not me," Kensi whispers.

"But if you don't want His grace, He can't force it on you," Russell says. "Free will and all that."

"Speaking of free will..." Gabe muses. As if on cue, a server shows up to take our orders. To Harris' delight, she says that yes, he can certainly have red and green chiles on his omelet if he wants. He and Kensi both order their breakfast-y things, Russell asks for chicken alfredo, and Gabe and I decide on classic burgers (medium well for me, medium rare for him) with fries and shakes (strawberry and chocolate, respectively.)

"Why this chapel?" Kensi asks. "Is that where we got the postcard from?"

Russell pulls the postcard out of the waistband of his pants, where he keeps it the way other, more badass action heroes (not that he doesn't have his badass moments, though I still haven't seen too many of them - I mostly remember being told, not shown, the accounts of him kicking a bunch of Preston Holly's peeps into San Francisco Bay and unloading a full bladder of piss on them) would keep their guns. He's not a gun guy, I know that much.

"It was sent by Steve Walker, yeah," he says, "but see the return address? '℅ Father Tom Baxter.'"

"There's a priest involved?" Gabe asks. "I thought this was just a chapel."

"This priest is a frequent fixture at this chapel," Russell says, putting the postcard away. "So my research tells me, anyway."

"You actually have time for research?" Kensi chuckles into her napkin. "Imagine that."

"Is it really so hard to believe?" Russell fixes her with that stupid grin of his, the one that makes him look like an ass.

"Well," I say, reaching behind my head and twirling one of my longer locks (which aren't even that long anymore - cutting my hair down to neck-length is so much more practical) around my finger. "You've got serious responsibilities, and you spend most of your time playing around on the internet. Hell, isn't it true that in your early days in Coldfire Creek-"

"-I spent most of my time online in the library, I remember," he finishes for me. "It's true. I'm an online addict, a slave to the TV, and worst of all, a music junkie."

"Like the earbuds?" Gabe asks.

"Yep. The struggle is real, boys and girls." Russell winks.

"Please don't say 'the struggle is real,'" Harris says.