Sallie Abigail Reynolds

[ooc: Continued from here.]

"Home again, home again," Sallie intones when she unlocks her apartment door to let Splinter in when they arrive. There isn't much to Sallie's place, and it's certainly smaller than the suite that Splinter, Leo, and Mike share. It is all one central area, with the bedroom cordoned off with a latticework screen, the bathroom beyond that, the kitchen in the opposite corner from the entranceway, and the main sitting area consisting of a sofa, Sallie's recliner, a table and a vidscreen. A piano is on the agenda, but Sallie hasn't gotten there yet.

Sallie is enjoying the quiet of her apartment in the Staff Wing. Quiet makes stuff easier. All sorts of stuff.

Even if Splinter's thought processes after their field trip are still rattling around like dried peas in a can.

The lilac ended up in a bud vase on the kitchen counter, and seeing it makes things better. Not easier. Just better.

It's been a quiet day in Milliways, so Sallie decides to peek in on Mike's suite. She knows he is probably in the middle of training, but -- it's lunchtime! That means a break. Right?

She knocks on the door. "Mike? You dead yet?"

Sallie is in her apartment, flipping through information on a datapad about France, early 21st century.

It's always good to research, she thinks, but there's so much to still be done - Sallie needs to head back over to Mike's place to make sure he doesn't need anything.

Sallie has furniture now, and enough baking supplies that she can get into the swing of some normal things.

(She hasn't been home to Shadow since Waking Up, and she's aware of the need to at least see what happens there. But.)

Until further notice, she is at home in her apartment's kitchen working on a peach cobbler.

She's going to do it today. Have a regular bartending shift and regular conversations that don't revolve around -- whatever she's supposed to call what's happened to her.





Two hours later, Sallie is in a booth with her head down on the table, when she's not looking morose and staring at the crowd of people in Milliways today.

It never seemed like so much before.

Milliways is home to innumerable unusual objects and circumstances.

There's something though, to this latest series of events. The green crystal floating above the bar seemed too close, too foreboding to be really ignored. Not that Mike is taking much of this seriously.

Shouldn't we be worried? Sallie frowns at both Mike in her mind and the dishtowel in her hands.

Sallie can't tell if the image comes from Mike or from Bar herself, but suddenly she's thinking of crocuses coming up along the edge of the woods by the lake.

"Someone's been doing guided meditation with Splinter again," Mike smirks.

"Is that so bad? Keeps me from thinking about -- "

"The other new and potentially weird thing that just randomly showed up unannounced?" There's a playful edge to his dry and sarcastic tone.

"Don't start with me - this is different. I know it is." She might be overly defensive about this, but feelings are nothing to discount! Right?

Mike's hands raise in a quick surrender the moment the Don't is spoken. "I admit, it is different. What with it being all green and floaty. But different doesn't mean bad."

Sallie still looks incredibly dubious about it all. "I'd feel better about it if I knew why, is all."

"Someone around here is bound to know. And if not I'll wager that the someone who does will be arriving momentarily. It's how this place rolls."

Another look from Mike. "Okay, okay. I'll relax."

Time passes, and Sallie relaxed - until the next thing happened. And the sky changed, and everything in between.

"Eh,...this is fine!"

"Fine? The sky is red outside, the horsemen have galloped by, and I can't even name all the things goin' on! SARAH's gone feng kuang de, Malcolm got lost in Ambergeldar -- "

"Seriously...it's nothing. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Mike, I love you, but you're lying to yourself."






Mike has no more answers than she does. But Sallie leaves it alone, in the end.

Until all sorts of hell breaks loose.

---

"Mike!" Sallie tries to shout over the din of everyone running for their Door. Waitrats are scurrying against the crowd, and so is she.

She'll be okay, and so will Mike. So will Malcolm and Inara and Sam and Dean and all her friends.

They have to be. Where is he!

---

Mike's been keeping himself more than busy tending to his own concerns, a final sweep of the Staff Wing and just now finishing one last go around the infirmary to make sure everyone's hauling out of Milliways.

It's not safe. Of course it’s not safe. How could he have been so stupid? So naive? So blinded by false hope?

Enough people have cleared that Mike can spot Sallie when he walks out of the infirmary towards the main bar. He has time to register the wave of relief coming from Sallie's mind before a tinny cracking sound starts above the both of them -- the red crystal splitting down the middle in painful-looking shards and letting out this wave

hitting Sallie square in the back, pushing her to her knees

hitting Mike in the chest with enough force to throw him into the wall behind him. It's only after he leans forward that one can see the Vorpal Sword strapped to his back.

Dad!

---

Sallie crawls then, in the near-dark, over the rubble.

He's alive! I can hear him breathing! The only other thought is that it's too quiet why this why now when she reaches him -- "Mike?"

"No, Sallie," comes out of Mike's mouth when she reaches him and it's the last of the effort washing out of her when Sallie lays her head down next to Mike's body. His arm is slick from a cut under Sallie's fingers, and reaching up to his face smears the tear-tracks of blood there. Can't clean him up can't do anything

"Sallie. Don't fret." Mike's voice is too even for the situation, for him, and it doesn't console Sallie in the black at all.

She's haggard now, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry -- "

"No. We'll be alright."

"How?"

"You'll see."

People like to explore in Milliways. It's a thing they do, and it usually doesn't worry Sallie too much, even when she has to see a lot of it via Bar in her head.

What does get her out of her apartment in the Staff Hallway is the sight of one more rat than usual in the kitchen. One who has a cane and no bullet holes.

"Splinter?" Sallie asks, coming into the bar's kitchens with her apron already tied around her back and neck. "What are you gettin' up to in here?"

Sallie never changed how much she normally cooks for dinner, when planning out the menu for her three guests for the evening. She always over-prepares to begin with, and now with two extra places at table, it might all get eaten this time.

Except for how Peeta shows up with freshly-baked bread for the table and Rue is holding what looks to be a cake box - Sallie is somehow fine with not needing to break out the pumpkin pie she'd baked that morning.

Watching Charlie and Rue near each other makes Sallie's thoughts go all sorts of blank and fuzzy whenever she thinks to look up at them from her plate. The size differential is enormous, but Charlie never asks her any questions more than small talk, as though Sallie's suggestion about violence not being the best thing ever had expanded in Charlie's mind to laying off some of the heavy-duty questions he might otherwise ask. Then again, she has never seen Charlie around a child, so --

Sallie notices Peeta watching her taking in the pair opposite them at the table, and Sallie squints her eyes shut and looks back to her mashed potatoes, prodding them with unnecessary fervor. Damn, she thinks, but the recorded piano music playing from the living area shifts to banjo and it is unique enough that Rue asks about it. It's a shift of attention Sallie appreciates.

For once, Sallie doesn't fight off volunteers to help clear the table. When Charlie stops by her to whisper that he has the films he promised in the bag he'd brought along with him, she grins and suggests perhaps the next night. "I'll bring the popcorn," she promises.

Sallie's out at the main bar today, enjoying a cup of coffee and making her way through receipts and supplies that needs to be restocked behind the serving area --

When a red flashing alarm light goes off above her head, and a banner unfurls across the bartop.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SALLIE REYNOLDS!

"Ugh. Who told?"

[ooc: Open to anyone, and flexible as hell.]