"It was real nice of you to take Angus and Malcolm to the hotel."

"Yeah, it sure was." Her hands stayed folded on her lap. The rain trickled down the windows, some slow, some fast, most stationary. Travis' eyes were stuck to the road, the radio playing a light, classical tune.

"Sherrie too, you know."

"Anything to help that stunner," he mumbled.

"They'll be glad to get some rest," Hannah said after a moment. Travis narrowed his eyes and turned a corner. "It...it didn't take up all the gasoline, did it? The trip, I mean."

"No." Hannah waited in case there was more on his mind. Whatever it was, he wasn't letting her know. The Hearse hit a pothole two blocks from the house. One block from the house and the car started slowing down, dragging a wad of rubber behind it. Travis shifted toward the curb, coming to a complete stop. The rain mixed with the radio blocking it out. Travis turned it off. The instruments were all out of tune anyway.

Hannah looked out her window. Every lawn in the neighborhood was emerald, every tree spangled with flamingo blossoms. Spring would be there before they knew it, and Travis would make sure Hannah planted those flowers. Or maybe he didn't care about the flowers. They attracted bees after all. "Is the car out of gas?" she asked, fearing the needle to be pointing to the red E. She tried to see but Travis' arms blocked her view.

"No. Don't you remember, we hit a pothole," Travis explained. His voice was calm, but held a razor to the neck of every word. Hannah shrank into her seat. "Now the tire's flat. An' I've got to fix it."

"It's nice outside," Hannah commented. Travis looked out his window. Rain in a river saturated with dirt ran into the water grates. Worms wiggled on the sidewalk. The sky was coin with clouds like anchors. He sneered.

"Hideous," he spat. "Absolutely hideous. Now I've gotta fix this damn tire in this weather..." Travis opened the car door, rain wetting the seat. Stepping out he sighed, turning his collar up.

"I can help-"

"Don't bother!" Travis spat, stopping her from following him. She let go of her seat belt. "I can fix a damn tire, it's nothin' but a..." The car door was closed, Travis' words muffled. The rain came down harder. Hannah pulled her knees to her chest, her shoes atop the torn leather seat. The weather certainly didn't help Travis' already sour mood. Along with losing money from a joke of a poker game, a trio had invited themselves along for the return home.

Cliff didn't mind. Phil, making sure Travis wasn't in the room, brought up the poker game and laughed. Bon laughed too. At Angus that is. "Two women, Ang," he said. "Do you know how fuckin' lucky you are?"

"Shut up," Angus said. "That's not what this is about, she's a friend of me an' Mal."

"Oh right," Bon chuckled. "Forgot, slipped my mind." Bon's laughter died down as Angus kept explaining their voyage. Looking down at his tea mug he left the room, leaving it on the counter. No one seemed to notice Bon's departure.

"We don't know how long we'll be gone, but it shouldn't hurt the next album or anythin'," Malcolm said. "Jus' lettin' you know we're not goin' with you."

"That's a relief," Phil sighed. "Been stressin' about that all week."

"You're a comedian, Rudd," Malcolm said. "Really splittin' my sides." Phil grinned.

Hannah hadn't been around for the conversation. She kept to herself as the tour neared its end. She would stay by her window and watch the snow fall in fair amounts, covering the earth. She looked out the car window to see the rain doing the same thing.

With the car still humming, Hannah was kept in an embrace of warmth. She unbuckled her seat belt and turned so she was on her side, the leather pressing against her cheek. Her eyes closed, relaxing under the heartbeat of the sky. She saw an ocean; a yellow raft floating on the surface. It was empty, save for a solitary oar. The sea was calm, only miniature waves lapping against the sides dragging it to nowhere. The sky was clear, with a white hot sun bleaching the raft.

Claps of thunder woke her up. Thunder that sounded a lot like the trunk of a car. The raft was replaced by the driver seat. It was also empty. "Piece of shit!" Hannah sat up, straining to see out the back window. Travis was gone, seemingly replaced by the clanking of a wrench. It was still raining. The wrench fell to the ground, Travis appearing in the window when she looked again. With one hand in his pocket, the other ran through his hair, dragging out excess water. Her car door opened and she stepped outside.

Her own hair was soaked in seconds. Travis didn't notice her. Hugging herself she dared to get closer to the tire. "You need help?"

Travis turned around. "It's not rocket science, I can do it myself." Hannah stayed where she was. A car or two drove down the street, neither stopping to help. Time didn't stop when their staring contest began. It slowed down to a painful rhythm. Every raindrop was a sharp bullet piercing through their skin. Hannah took another step and Travis stepped back. "You wanna waste your time go right ahead. I'm done with this." He returned to the car, slamming the door behind him.

The wrench was lying in a puddle a foot away from the tire. Five small fingers picked it up, gripping the cold metal. Placing it against the hubcap, she eventually had it removed with a few turns. Her eyes blinked from the water while small bumps paraded her skin.

Travis leaned back in his seat staring out the front window. He couldn't see anything through the rear view mirror and soon gave up trying. The radio was turned back on, this time a boisterous symphony playing. His eyes closed, the music filling his head.

He saw a red kayak thrown against the rocks by an overseeing lighthouse. The beacon wasn't shining; broken as the boat in the waves below. The kayak had been empty, now useless with the planks picking their own directions to travel. One board wedged itself within the niche of the boulder, salt laden anger slapping against it. It would stay there forever unless someone chanced the waves to pull it out. The storm dared anyone to come near it, revealing the wreckage every now and again as a warning.

Someone was tapping on the window. Travis opened his eyes to see a ghost, then relaxed when he recognized her. Her collar was scrunched in her palm against her neck. Turning the dial of the radio, he rolled the window down. "Give up?"

"You need the hazard lights on," she said. Travis narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"Turn on your hazard lights, cars'll run right over me."

"You think they'll see them in all this rain?" Hannah rolled her eyes.

"It's a rule regardless. Now turn them on." Sighing, Travis felt around the steering wheel for the correct switch. He jumped when the wipers started up, though he didn't bother to turn them off. Finally he found the switch and Hannah went back to her work. Travis rolled the window up and turned the radio completely off. The wipers would just get in the way.

Half an hour later and the trunk was closed, the spare tire good and tight. Both seats were occupied and damp. "You make sure it was tight enough?"

"I did my best," Hannah answered. Travis scoffed.

"We'll see about that a block away from here, won't we?" The car pulled away from the curb and took off down the street, hitting every puddle on the way home.

"Subtract ten from the total, getting four fifty...then last month was two hundred-"

"Did you add the bonus you got last week?" Sherrie asked. Angus nodded and continued to scribble numbers on the napkin in front of him. Her spoon stirred around in her coffee and was set aside.

"That was taken out however to pay for my food, an' now it's in my wallet. So..." A few more numbers were scribbled. "Hey Sherr-Bear, you got a calculator on you by any chance?"

"No. The math getting hard?" Angus put his fingers to his temple.

"I jus' never paid that much attention in Miss J's class, ya' know," he smiled. "I passed one test an' long division was not part of it."

"That's why I studied sociology," Sherrie grinned.

"You know about people then?"

"Their behavior," she replied. She took a sip of her coffee. "You however, are an animal that can't be understood." Angus laughed as he wrote the problem out.

"Am I..." Numbers were moved around and carried over, some scratched out. When Angus wrote a three instead of a five he pressed the pen too hard to the napkin to color over it, making a hole. "Damn it. Give me another one of these."

Sherrie handed him the napkin, watching him as she drank her coffee. It was comforting as the rain thrashed outside. Her lipstick stained the side of the mug when she pulled it away. It was pink this time. His curls fell in his face as he attempted the arithmetic a second time. "Did you enjoy school, at least a little?" He scoffed.

"When the teacher was good lookin'...well, let's put it this way. Some teachers could teach well, but it didn't make the subject fun." His pen ran out of ink and he wet it with his tongue making him grimace. "Some classes were alright, an' I was terrific at 'em. When I showed up, of course. An' the rest...the rest jus' had good lookin' teachers." Sherrie shook her head and forced out a smile.

"Can't say any of my teachers were real models," she said. "What about the students?" He looked up.

"Huh?"

"You can't mean you only found your teachers attractive," she said. "I guess it explains your love for older women." He winked at her. "But there weren't any students you thought were attractive?"

Angus mulled over it a few seconds. Then he smiled. "Susan Lockhart," he finally said. "Boy was she somethin'. But see, she already had a guy at her side an' me an' him weren't too good friends you understand." He scribbled out his math again and started over. "He punched me, knocked me out gettin' my ass sent to the hospital...an' that was that. We never got together, if that's where you're scratchin' at," he added.

"Have you kept in touch with her?"

"I hardly got to touch her a first time," he chuckled. "No, no. We weren't really friends or anything. Guess the kids at school weren't too fond of me."

"Hannah went to your school didn't she?" Sherrie asked grabbing another napkin to wipe off the lipstick. Angus stopped writing. "You came back to America with her, that's gotta mean somethin'."

Angus felt a tug on his heart that he only felt a few times before. Pushing it down only pushed him back against the wall. It didn't hurt yet, but it was only a matter of time. He took the pen out from between his teeth and wiped it off. "Yeah, like I said. We're good friends."

Sherrie narrowed her eyes. "Must be. Wouldn't be here otherwise."

"Where are you goin' with this?" he asked. "You don't like us bein' friends, or..." She didn't answer. Only finished her cup. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You mad at me?" he asked again.

"No, I'm just-" Angus reached a hand across the table and laid it atop hers. Her fingers were long and he wrapped his own around them. A knock at the door scared them both, and Angus gave her hand a kiss before standing up to open it. Malcolm stood on the other side.

"You wet your bed already?" Angus smiled.

"Shove it, I need money." Malcolm's brother blinked at him.

"What for?"

"I'll pay you back, it doesn't have to be much." Malcolm's hands gripped the door frame, his fingers drumming against it. Angus didn't move. "C'mon, just a bit."

"Don't you have your own?" Angus asked turning around to find his wallet. It was in his coat pocket on the couch. He took a few notes out and returned to Malcolm who missed them when Angus pulled them away. "What do you need it for?"

"I'm hungry," he said.

"Did you pack anything on your own?"

"Not for a meal, Ang, just a snack or somethin'." Angus continued to keep the money out of reach. "C'mon, Ang."

"What happened to everyone payin' for their own things around here?" he asked with a frown. Malcolm looked down the hallway on either side of him. "You runnin' from someone?"

"No," Malcolm sighed. "Jus' hungry is all." The money changed hands.

"Take that if it'll keep ya' from ransacking my room." He laughed as Malcolm walked down the hall to the elevator. "I only have twenties, Mal, I need the change back!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Angus shook his head and closed the door, returning to the table. Sherrie didn't hear him coming, and quickly set the napkin he had been writing on down when she felt him wrap his arms around her neck.

"That Malcolm?" she asked. Angus rested his head on hers.

"Yeah, he's got the munchies or somethin'. You okay?"

Her nails tapped against the table. "We going out tomorrow?" she asked. Her heart twisted when she heard him sigh, waiting for him to respond.

"Forgot to tell ya', Mal an' I were takin' Hannah out tomorrow afternoon," he said. "To keep her busy from Travis, ya' know," he finished. Her nails quit tapping and she clenched her hand. "The guy's an asshole, yells at her all the time...jus' thought we'd get her out of the house while we're here, an' of course we want to see her again before goin' home. You free? You're perfectly welcome to come along."

"No thank you, I-I would rather have the day to myself. Relax, sleep while I have the chance."

"You can't sleep with me around?"

"A hyper child is always difficult to sleep around," she joked. It was half-hearted, her tone doing its best to disguise itself from him. Angus laughed and sighed.

"What were you doin'?" he mumbled.

"Nothing," she answered. "Just checking your math is all."

"That bad?" he smiled into her hair. She stood up grabbing her mug from the table and walked to the kitchen sink.

"Sure is something." Returning to his spot at the table, Angus picked up the napkin carelessly tossed to the center. A corner was folded up and he smoothed it out, checking over his mistakes. The tug on his heart nearly ripped it from his chest when he saw in black ink, right where the corner had been folded, Hannah's name scribbled in unconscious cursive.