"When did you want to go shopping?"

Alex opened her eyes to find Rile's face over hers, while he held her hand. She shrieked and bolted off the couch. She lit her now free hand and hurled a blast at him.

"I told you what would happen if you touched me again!" She fired another blast at him.

"I only held your hand. I swear." Rile dodged and held up both hands again in surrender. "Easy, crazy lady."

Alex looked wildly around the apartment, up and down Rile, and then up and down herself. She inhaled and exhaled deeply. Cale watched from the kitchenette, astonished.

Gabe dashed in from the bedroom. "What did you do, Rile?"

"I only asked when she wanted to go shopping. I swear."

"He startled me awake. That always ends badly." Alex ran a hand through her hair. "Dibs on the bathroom."

Alex scrubbed her face and walked out to the kitchenette. Cale had made pancakes again. Again, she checked for green slime and was relieved it wasn't there.

"I'll buy the couch, mattress, and recliner first this morning," Alex said as they sat around the table. "Then I'll return to the carriage house and work on organizing. It'll take time for the stuff to be delivered."

"I'll come," Gabe said.

"I want to come with you," Cale said.

"I'm not working alone," Rile said.

"Shopping, humanoid, alien dragons?" Alex said. "Okay. I guess y'all don't get out much."

*****

After breakfast, they walked to Alex's tiny, rusted car but were intercepted by Dr. Dewey on the driveway.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Shopping for mattress, couch, recliner. They wanted to come." Alex shrugged.

"You can't take them shopping." Dr. Dewey frowned down at her.

"I thought they could disguise." Alex looked up at him, unbowed by his professor's disapproving demeanor.

"We can," Gabe said.

"That's a bit much. Please don't go," Dr. Dewey changed to a conciliatory tone.

"We'll wear the caps of baseball that you gifted us," Cale said.

"We'll shop Magazine Street," Alex continued. "Deep in the culture of New Orleans weird."

Cale dashed into the carriage house and returned with three baseball caps.

"The Saints?" Alex asked. "Those losers? They win like what? Once every quarter century?"

Dr. Dewey, offended, sniffed and straightened his back.

"You know what, I admire the New Orleanians," Alex said with sincerity. "Good for them for loyalty to the Saints through all those losing years. Who dat."

Dr. Dewey's smile was so sweet that Alex felt her heart twist.

Just a little bit.

"Everyone into my car." Alex pointed at the tiny, rusted, two door car.

As if it heard her, the back bumper creaked and the left side groaned down to the concrete. Alex yanked open the door, pulled out a large roll of silver duct tape, and proceeded to tape it back in place.

"What?" she challenged the horrified onlookers. "Get in or be left behind."

Gabe claimed the front passenger seat after staring down Rile. Cale sat behind Gabe. Alex resisted the urge to slide her seat back into Rile's knees.

She joined the battle fray of New Orleans traffic. The brothers learned several new curse words from Alex and that her little car was a lot faster than it looked. Cale's knuckles were white on the edge of the seat by the time they parked.

"What now?" Alex asked, raising her eyebrows at their expressions.

"We're accustomed to walking," Gabe said with dignity.

"Now we walk," Alex said with a smile, "I need a new mattress, so I'll buy that first. Then I'll know how much money I'll have left." Alex set a brisk pace down Magazine Street.

"A new one because of the high ick factor of old ones," Rile said, his long legs easily matching Alex's pace.

"Quick learner. Good, you'll need it to survive," Alex replied.

The mattress store was several blocks off Magazine Street. The brothers marveled at the sight of all the mattresses on frames across the sales floor. Rile flopped on one, face up, and then started bouncing.

"Stop that," Alex ordered.

"Why? It'll bring over the salesperson faster."

Sure enough, a thin man walked over, expression concerned.

"I need a mattress. Here are the dimensions of the bed frame." Alex shoved the paper at him before he could speak. "Please," she added.

"Excellent." The salesperson looked at the paper. "This is a king size. I'll show you our selection. Please follow me."

Alex was hot on his heels. Gabe motioned to Rile, who pushed off the bed, and the brothers followed Alex closely.

"We have memory foam, quilted tops—"

"Cheapest," Alex said.

The salesperson nodded smoothly. "Perhaps you should try this one."

Rile bounced on it. "I like it."

"Then you buy it. The mattress is for me. Is this the cheapest one? I'm on a budget," Alex said.

"These two are our economy line. You'll be sleeping on them for many years. You should try them," the salesperson said smoothly.

After a suspicious glance at the salesperson, Alex carefully lay on the first mattress. Rile started for the mattress and Alex jumped up. Rile grinned and Alex frowned back at him. She walked to the far side of the second mattress. Cale blocked Rile's way and Alex, gaze locked on Rile, laid on her side on the second mattress.

"Which one is cheaper?" Alex asked the salesperson.

"The one you're on."

"Sold."

*****

Alex paid cash for the cheaper mattress at the checkout.

"Now for delivery," the salesperson said.

"Oh, delivery," Alex said with dismay. "How could I forget that?"

"Use Dr. Dewey's address," Gabe said.

"Thank you." Alex printed that address on the delivery form. "Now for couch and recliner."

They exited the store and returned to Magazine Street.

"Look at all the treasures." Cale peered in the window of an antique store.

"Junk," Rile dismissed.

"If it intrigues you, let's go in," Alex said. "This is how much money I have left for a couch and recliner." She held out her wad of cash.

"I'll handle this. I'm the master." Rile strode in.

"I'm doomed," Alex said.

"Rile is skilled at haggling," Cale said. "Tell him what couch and recliner you want as well as alternate choices."

"Why is he good at haggling?"

"Our culture is one of bartering and Rile loves a challenge."

Cale poked around the silver utensils. Gabe found the antique ornamental swords and spurned them as inferior.

"Alex, come." Rile appeared at her elbow.

"Say please." Alex looked up at him.

"It's a couch for you," Rile said. "I'll negotiate a good price."

Alex pursed her lips and considered him, head tilted. "Let's see what you can do."

Rile led her through a winding path of old toys and battered shelves full of plates and ugly pictures to the furniture section. He showed her a carved wooden couch with claw feet and deep red velvet cushions.

"There are nicks all over the carvings, the cushions are almost flat, and it wobbles," Rile said. "But the feet match the feet of the tub, it's well made, and Cale can re-stuff the cushions because the fabric is thick and intact. Well?"

Alex looked at the price tag. "I can't afford it. It's too nice for me."

"Nothing is too nice for you," Rile said with such intensity that Alex dropped the tag.

"I'll find the salesperson," Cale said.

"Let Rile complete his job." Gabe moved back among the shelves.

"Act like you don't want it," Rile whispered to Alex as Cale returned with the salesperson. "But give in when the price is what you can afford."

Alex nodded and the saleswoman was upon them.

"This is a wonderful antique," the saleswoman breathed. "Look at the heavy wood. You can't find carving like this anymore."

"Except all over Magazine Street," Rile said. "Look at how damaged the carving is. No resale value."

"It's ugly," Alex said.

The saleswoman shot her a look.

Rile sat heavily on the couch so that it wobbled. "Unstable."

"I don't want that junk in our house," Alex said.

"Maybe at the right price." Rile then named a low figure.

"Sir, you can't be serious. This is an antique."

Rile wobbled the couch more.

"Used furniture," Alex said. "Ugly used furniture. Let's go."

The saleswoman counter-offered.

Rile stood up and pushed on the cushions. "Flat. Hard."

"We can't even sit on it?" Alex asked in disbelief. "Honey, let's go."

Rile grinned at her and Alex blushed. She turned and fiddled with an Elvis picture on a shelf. The saleswoman made another counter offer. Alex shook her head.

"You're right, let's go, honey," Rile said. "Didn't you want a recliner?" He put his hand on her shoulder and she flinched.

They wound their way through the maze of furniture and shelving to the recliners. Gabe and Cale joined them.

"You were hardly a master bargainer." Alex shrugged off Rile's hand.

"Who says I'm done? Part of haggling is knowing when to walk away. We'll find a recliner, dicker over price, and I'll throw in a couch offer. Salespeople love to bundle. The trick is getting the right price in the bundle."

Alex ran her hands over a recliner. "No patterned fabric. It hides stains. Feel the fabric for rough or sticky spots. Push on it for hard spots. I want to make sure it hasn't had blood or fluids spilled on it."

"Because those are high on the ick factor," Rile said.

"Please stop talking and start helping," Alex said.

"Why did you pretend to be a couple?" Gabe asked. "Why couldn't you pretend to be brother and sister?"

"Why do you care?" Rile shot back.

"I panicked," Alex said. "It seemed to make the most sense. Can we concentrate on finding a recliner?"

Why does he care? Why did I pretend that? Why am I breaking my never ask why rule?

All four examined the recliners, running hands over the fabric, testing the stability, checking the bases.

"How about this one, Alex?" Gabe indicated the one he was standing next to.

"Sit in it and check if the reclining mechanism works," she said.

Gabe sat in it. "Now what?"

Alex walked over. "Is there a handle on the right side?"

"Yes."

"Pull it back."

Gabe startled as the recliner foot elevated and the chair laid back. Rile snickered and Gabe hissed at him. Cale sat in a different recliner and tried his.

"This is a wonderful invention." Cale wallowed in the recliner, twisting this way and that, sighed, and closed his eyes.

Alex watched, wide eyed. "That was so cute. I'll buy it for him."

"Sucker," Rile said.

"Jerk," Alex replied. "Can't even haggle a good price on an old, wobbly couch."

The saleswoman wandered over. "May I help you with a recliner?"

"One of these." Alex pointed to the recliners that Gabe and Cale were in.

Rile picked up the price tag of the one Cale was lying in. He shoved the back upright and Cale scrambled so he wasn't thrown out.

"Honey, that wasn't a nice thing to do to your brother," Alex said through gritted teeth.

"We don't want him lying around our house all day," Rile replied. "We better not buy this one, sugar."

"At this point, I'd rather him lying around our house than you. How much?" Alex said.

The saleswoman took a step back and named a low price.

"Sold," Alex said and Rile favored her with a nasty look. "See, honey bun? What a lovely saleslady. Now how much for the one that your older brother is enjoying?"

Gabe raised his arms over his head and cradled his head in his hands. The saleswoman named another low price.

"Sold again. You are a perfect darling," Alex told the salesperson. "I have cash and I need delivery."

"We'll write the tickets up front." The saleswoman started walking.

"That's how it's done in N'Awlins, honey child," Alex told Rile before she followed the saleswoman.