The buildings were funny, all tan and orange looking, with curved red brick rooftops. Low hanging palm trees curved over the streets, and the air was a good deal thicker so that, although it wasn't ridiculously hot, it was still hotter feeling than the boys were used to and James was finding breathing a bit difficult, as though his chest was heavier in San Jose than it would be in London. People turned to look at the motorbike as Sirius roared through town, James hanging onto the back, and a couple kids waved. They passed motor scooters and funny cars that didn't look at all like the ones back home.

Sirius pulled off in an alley way and the boys climbed off the bike, which Sirius shrank back down with a flick of his wand and jammed into his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he looked about. "What is that fucking fantastic smell?" The air smelled heavy of delicious food.

"I dunno but I need some of it in my stomach, right now," James declared.

Sirius led the way, his nose turned up like a dog, and James followed, looking about and taking it all in. They stopped at a little shop that had postcards out front and they purchased a stack-full each. James struggled with counting off some Muggle money (it was even more confusing than usual, as it wasn't even the British Pound they were dealing with, and the coins were entirely unfamiliar to him), but eventually he got it and they left the shop with brown paper sacks full of their postcards and a couple pens. 

"Here it is," Sirius said finally, stopping in front of a yellow building strung with multi-coloured lanterns and little flags. Music was playing - a fast paced, tinny sort of instrumental that was entirely different than the radio played back home. "God if it's half as good tasting as it smells, I'm never going home," Sirius threatened.

James laughed, "Can anything taste as good as this smell is?"

"I doubt it," Sirius answered.

They went inside and found a low-lit cantina style restaurant, and a young girl with long black hair and dark eyes smiled and showed them to a booth in the corner. The windows were colorful stained glass and thick, making things outside look a little warped and wonky. The walls were covered with writing and pictures over the peeling wallpaper. People had left their marks on every bare inch of wall, in every language imaginable, every pen color and thickness you can think of. Sirius sat staring up at the signatures and notes people had written, while James dove behind the menu.

"Everything's in spanish," he complained, "I haven't the faintest idea what I'm reading."

"Are there pictures?" Sirius asked.

"No," James replied.

An old woman came over and put water glasses and silverware rolled up in napkins on their table and asked them something in Spanish. Sirius looked at James, who looked a bit clueless, and stammered out one of the only phrases he knew in Spanish, "Un momento, por favor?"

"Si," she said, and she tucked her notepad in her apron waist and waddled away.

James glanced over his shoulder, and leaned closer to talk to Sirius. "What's that charm we learned back in fifth year? The translation one?"

"Bloody hell that would be useful about now, wouldn't it?" Sirius said, thinking. He snickered and James raised an eyebrow. "I'm just thinking how much sooner Remus would've thought of that than we did."

"Probably would've been practicing it back when you started packing," James laughed.

"Or he would've just learned Spanish. Instantly. From a book. As Remus does." Sirius grabbed the menu from James and stared down at it. "Reckon we can just order whatever that smell is?"

"Not if we can't say that in Spanish," he said. James discreetly slid his wand up his shirt sleeve so that only the tip of it showed just past the end of his wrist, "Traduzir?" he tried and, they both looked impressed as the letters on the page seemed to glow for a moment, rearrange themselves, and fall back on the page in English.

"Bloody brilliant," Sirius said and he dove into reading the descriptions outloud until they both agreed that something called chicken enchiladas with blackbean and lime rice and guacamole with tortillas and salsa sounded like something they'd give a crack at and when the old woman got back to the table, they pointed on the menu and held up two fingers and she nodded and left them, scribbling on her little notepad as she went.

They spent the time waiting for their food by spreading their postcards out over the table and debating on who should get which, and then scribbling out notes to Remus, Peter, Lily, Frank, Alice, Marlene, and -- "You ought to send one to your brother," James suggested.

Sirius looked hesitant. "Dunno."

"I think he'd rather like hearing from you." James picked one up that showed a picture of a monkey in a banana tree and held it out to Sirius. "Nothing too sensitive for information, of course, just a hullo. Something simple."

Sirius took the postcard and turned it over and over in his hands. "Maybe."

Luckily for him, the food came at that very moment, postponing his need to come up with an excuse why not to send Regulus a postcard. They were in luck, too, because the food smelled just as brilliant up close on the plate as it had done from outside, and they tucked in with enthusiasm, marveling at the way the food tingled their tongues and warmed their stomachs. "My mouth's on fire," James laughed, "But the best sort of fire I could imagine."

"Exactly," Sirius said, "Oh burn me, you fucking wonderful Costa Rican fire!"

They left loads of money on the table, and James hoped it was enough to give the old woman a big tip as they left, carrying their postcards and noisily arguing who was the fullest -- every time they'd cleaned their plates, the old woman had come back and refilled them with more enchiladas, and they'd eaten probably six each before they'd had to tell her no more.

"I swear, I'm going to explode and there'll be enchilada and guts everywhere," Sirius announced. Then he paused outside a sweets shop - literally as he said the words - and waved for James to follow him in. Moments later, the boys that had insisted they'd never put another bite of food in their mouths again, were walking along eating Mexican Chocolate - which had pepper in it so that it was spicy and tingled with the same fire. Sirius bought a big block of it for Remus to give a go at, and they continued on down the street, watching the locals and pausing here and there to watch  street artists and musicians as they performed. Sirius bought a straw hat and they both got T-shirts and button-down shirts with bright obnoxious prints of palm trees and oceans scenes.

The sun was setting low in the sky and the lights were up - criss-crossed strings of lanterns hung over the road, and set a magic sort of glow about that reminded James of the floating candles in the Great Hall. He glanced at his watch, which was still on London time and therefore utterly pointless here, and said, "It must be getting late. I'm getting rather knackered."

Sirius yawned and nodded, "Loads more to explore tomorrow."

"Yeah and we'll come back for more of those bloody enchiladas," James nodded wistfully.

Sirius turned down an alley and drew the motorbike out of his pocket and James stretched and yawned and waited while he performed the engorgio charm, making sure no muggles wandered by to see it. They got on board and Sirius kick started it and reached into his pocket for the address Mr. Potter had given him, then read it outloud and tapped the bike to make it navigate the way, and they were off, James clinging on to the back.

James watched as the city faded as the bike rumbled down the street, which turned to dirt outside the city, and the leaves grew thicker and the air darker. Stars became more apparent overhead, clearer and more multiplied than James had ever seen in London or Godric's Hollow for that matter, covered as it was by smog and light pollution. He stared up at the sky as Sirius's bike drove along, the headlight cutting the night. There were funny sounds in the trees around them and more than once Sirius spotted yellow eyes peeping at the bike as it passed, saw the silhouettes of what appeared to be monkeys hanging from branches by their long arms and curled tails. 

It seemed to take forever, but at last they were coming up to a village and the motorbike was slowing down. Chickens ran clucking out of the way in the path and a small glow of lights were away in the distance. They rolled into a shut-down town, the buildings dark and businesses closed, save for what looked like a bar lit up with a flickering neon light and a good deal of music coming from inside. They rolled by and up a dark lane, through a good deal of brush, and up a long, long twisted driveway which curved round and round a hill until they were overlooking the ocean and the air smelled of citrus and they were passing tree after tree after tree, strategically planted, with little paths between them and piles of crates and big, globular oranges hanging heavy on the branches. 

"Here we are," Sirius announced as they rolled to a stop outside a two story house made of that funny orange-red stone with the curved red brick ceiling. The windows glowed welcomingly, though there didn't appear to be any glass in them, and the curtains- white lacey things - billowed in and out of them freely. Chickens clucked and pecked the ground about them as they walked up to the front porch, Sirius tucking his shrunken bike back into his pocket, and passed a fat lazy black cat, that stretched and stared up at them with bright yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

James rapped his knuckles on the door and he could hear his dad's voice - jovial and young for the first time in years, and it occurred to him how much they all needed this time out from the grey seriousness of London. 

The door was flung wide by a beautiful girl with long black hair with dyed-in red highlights, which hung in a braid over her shoulder. Her dark skin was sun-kissed bronze and she was wrapped in a simple sundress dyed bright yellow and blue, and had a nose-ring. "Hola!" she greeted them enthusiastically. "You must be James and Sirius."

"Yeah," James stammered stupidly.

Sirius glanced at him because he sounded rather funny, and looked back at the girl, "I'm Sirius... Sirius Black," he said, and he took her hand and kissed her knuckles, which made her laugh as he bowed before her like a gentleman. He knew his manners, after all.

The girl giggled and drew her hand back. "What a funny name," she said, and her voice lilted with her accent. "I have never heard this name before -- Sirius." 

"Like the star, love," Sirius said. He glanced at James, who nodded absently, staring at the girl with wide eyes as though he were staring down Voldemort's wand. "What's your name?"

"I'm Alma," she said, smiling. "Oh my manners escaped me, please come inside." She stepped back to allow them passage, and Sirius had to actually grab hold of James's arm and drag him along as James's brain was clearly out of order.

Sirius said, "So James never told me he had a cousin named Alma."

Alma giggled, "James does not seem to say much at all."

"Not at the moment, no," Sirius agreed, grinning wickedly at James, who flushed.

"Sorry," he squeaked.

"Also, I am not his cousin. I am -err- visiting, as I go to the University." Alma smiled.

"Brilliant," Sirius said.

"Yes, brilliant," James stammered.

"What do you study?" Sirius asked.

"Ancient charms," Alma answered and her eyes - a golden honey colour - gleamed.

Sirius nodded, "Very good."

Charlus came out from the other room, clutching a large glass of some sort of liquid, his face flushed, and ears pink at the tips. "YOU BOYS MADE IT," he called happily, coming up and clapping James on the back hard enough that he nearly doubled over. "HOW WAS SAN JOSE?"

"Brilliant," James stammered, since it was about the only word he could form his mouth around at the moment.

Sirius snickered. Then, to Mr. Potter, "We had enchiladas. Bloody fantastic, enchiladas. What you got there, Mr. P?"

"MARGARITA!" Charlus said merrily and he raised the glass up, sniffed it, and announced, "THEY SAY IT'S ALCOHOLIC BUT I DON'T FEEL A THING. YOU WANT A GULP?"

Sirius grinned and started to reach for the glass when a throat cleared behind them and he looked over to see Dora Potter in the door way, one eyebrow raised. "I do hope you were about to say no?"

"Of course, mum," Sirius said, and he shook his head and waved Charlus Potter off.

"YOUR LOSS!" Charlus said, laughing, as a man who looked near to exactly like him came in the room behind Dora. "OHHH HERE'S THE BLOKE!"

They spent the next several moments with introductions until Mr. Potter very nearly tipped over and everyone agreed it was best that everyone go to bed and they'd reconvene and do better introductions once everyone's wits were about them. Alma offered to show the boys to their room upstairs, and James only just managed to squeak out a "good night" before Sirius waved her off and closed the door.

James fell onto one of the beds and ran his hands through his hair, seeming to come out of a trance. "Bloody hell, huh?"

Sirius looked over his shoulder at the door. "What? Alma?"

"Yes," James breathed, "Alma." His eyes were wide and swoony.

"She's alright," Sirius shrugged and he kicked off his boots and threw himself onto the bed opposite James, putting his feet up on the headboard.

"Alright?" James asked, looking stunned, "Alright? She's a bloody angel."

Sirius shrugged. "Remus is better looking than that, and you've never gone nutter over him."

"Can't imagine why," James said dryly.

Sirius grinned. "Besides," he added, casually as he could, "What about Lily?"

"What? Evans? What of her?" James asked.

Sirius shrugged, "Didn't you say she asked you to go out with her? Haven't you only been waiting for that since bloody first year?"

"I mean... as friends," James answered.

"She might've meant more," Sirius said.

James shrugged, "She didn't."

"She could've."

"She didn't, though. She never does." James replied. Then, "Besides, it's not as though I've got a shot with Alma. Bloke like me? Not even in seventh year - with a university student?" he scoffed. There was a pause before a bit of panic struck through his eyes. "You don't think?"

Sirius threw a pillow across the room at James's face and said with a laugh, "Go to sleep, Potter." Then, as they got up and got their pyjamas from the bags Mrs. Potter had them pack - fishing shoulder-deep into the depths of the magically extended bags - Sirius added, "Friends could become more."

"Not with Evans," James said. "She doesn't fancy me like that. Never will."

"But she could..."

"She couldn't. She's said so herself," James said, and he climbed into bed, drew his wand and aimed for the lamp. "Nox."