You Called?

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

If there was one thing to be said about Sal Wagner lately, it was that a year spent back home had not softened her in the least.  Now that her newest daughter was out and about, she no longer had any reason to be exceptionally cautious about anything, so she had resumed her usual routine of housework and cooking, late-night runs from Port aux Basques to Grand Bay and back again, getting the Wolf des Meeres ready for the oncoming spring fishing season, and of course, managing the Phoenix Bluff now that Jeimu had moved to Florida for her new job.

No, while she was most definitely a home-bred Newfoundlander, the Mando ethos was still there.  Perhaps the two cultures, a universe apart, had more in common than she'd initially thought.  Of course, thoughts on her fourteen-year stint as a Mandalorian only came about because Kal Skirata had called, apparently in a tiff about something he wasn't planning on talking about until she reached the Cantina.  She was thankful that all her other kids were either grown men or of (pre) school age and didn't need to be carted around everywhere.

Everyone except Celeste, of course, who was resting securely, cradled to Sal's chest in a sturdy fabric sling and cooing to herself every so often, her wide, ice-blue (and so typically Dumbledore) eyes looking around at everything she could survey from her snug position.  From time to time Sal would have to console her as her tail would poke her in the eye, due to the fact that Celeste was still learning how to control it.  Kurt had mentioned that becoming proficient with one's tail certainly wasn't instinctual; it really was like an extra limb and was therefore just as ungainly as her tridactyl hands and feet.

The tail was the only part of Celeste visible as Sal walked through the doorway into the Cantina.  The cryptic nature of Kal's message had alarmed her somewhat, and so she had called in a favour to Vanya and Kurt to please keep things under control for a few hours and she would be right back, honest.
 
Sal scanned the place with her still-sharp soldier's eyes.

No Kal.

The guy had some nerve.

Comments

[random_xtras]

"I'm no weak minded...." He starts to say a word, but then looks at Sal's baby and desists.

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

"No. But you'd go back in a heartbeat if you thought you were needed." Celeste's tail flops out of the sling lazily, waving in Kal's direction.

[random_xtras]

"I'm not needed." He quirks an eyebrow at the tail.

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

Sal chuckles under her breath, then puts her hand on the edge of the sling so as to shield Celeste from judgement. The tiny tail wraps around her fingers and she sighs, the doting-mother persona peeking out of the tough-girl exterior she always seemed to put up when she came to Clone City.

Her blue eyes train themselves on Kal again.

"Says who?"

[random_xtras]

There's a smile in his eyes, but it fades as he looks up from the baby. "Me."

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Sal laughs.

She actually laughs.

"You are full of osik," she says. "Get over yourself and stop trying to make choices for these men. If you want to step back it's your call, but it sure as fierfek isn't because you're useless."

[random_xtras]

"I'm no good to them right now." He finishes his coffee and looks at Falen as the boy grasps his sleeve firmly, young face serious.

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

"Fine, but you go and you tell them goodbye."

[random_xtras]

"Do you really want half the... GAR in your backyard?" He lifts a brow.

[fire-in-flight.livejournal.com]

"When did this become less about you moving and more about them moving?"