i do not mind the rain sometimes

Yeah, they'd had weather back in Seattle. Hell, Portland had weather. But not hurricanes.

The Cliffsides weren't meant for this sort of thing, clearly. Theo isn't really sure what exactly it was meant for in the first place, given how often they're fixing the plumbing and cleaning blood out of sheets and avoiding eye contact as a courtesy and a life-preserving measure. That Harford guy clearly hadn't done much with the place except using it as a puppy playground, which... Whatever.

But a playground it is not, and she's glad Diego is still at an age where he's not really going to remember much of the little details. She does worry what he'll remember about all the pain of being a werewolf, or how he'll feel about the love from his parents. There's no doubt they've got that. The love and the pain are going to be there for his entire life.

"Hey, babe," Theo says when Raf pecks her on the head. She props herself up on her elbows as Diego loses interest in the tag-team drawing they were doing. Raf joins her on the floor and she wonders what it is he's been thinking about, and whether she should be thinking about it too. Oh shoot, what if it's wedding stuff?

"Yeah? Hit me, Raf."

"Thinkin' bout Seattle, yeah? Thinking about how, you know, I don't know, you know. You uh, you ever think about going back?"

Topic's breached now - that might have been the hardest part.

"Like... not to visit. But like... you know. Back."

He's looking at her, and there's a smile on his face, but it's that specific one, like it might wilt into a frown if left to itself too long. "Like, I get it, I get why you're out here, why you came out here - but like... we know this stuff now, yeah? What to expect, how to manage, and like, you know... it's crazy out here."

Masquerades where you get cornered in bathrooms by vampires and your mind gets erased. Art galleries where people send messages with severed hands. No-Tell Motels that aren't hiding marital indescretion so much as man-eating.

"And like, you know, I don't... I don't blame you, I probably woulda done the same thing. But like... you know. I lost almost a year with him, and now he's lost like, two years almost with... you know, his grandparents, the rest of his family. I know like, Lihuén and Jude are great, they are but... you know?" His hands have found their way onto hers.

Then came the thing. The guy held it up like a kid might, all curious and cautious. It reminded him of the little ones who’d come around earlier, poking at every trinket and asking what each one did. It was refreshing. Most folks just asked about the leather, or why the hell he was out here with a table full of rusted, busted used-to-be-somethings. Truth was, he was no good at letting things die.

"That there’s a hoof pick," Colt stepped closer and tilting his head to get a better look. "Used to clean out a horse’s hooves. Dirt, rocks, whatever gets jammed in there." a beat. "You don’t strike me as the type to own a horse either, but hell, I guess it’d make a pretty decent back scratcher in a pinch."

He glanced at Raf sidelong, a spark of humor there now, subtle but real. "Unless you’re plannin’ to branch out into equine hygiene.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, not sure now that he's gonna walk away with everything, which is both a relief (he really doesn't need any of it) and a sorrow (he likes haggling).

"You get a lot of people wanting this stuff?" He asks, still smiles, still waffling on that horse-shoe.

Maybe Colt should’ve stuck to selling eggs. Made a funny story to share, out of those four hens back at the ranch — The Beatles, all of them. Lennon was a menace, liked to bite ankles when people weren’t looking. You’re lucky I didn’t bring him along, Colt thought, already picturing the guy trying to outrun a homicidal chicken.

But this was all Buck’s fault, wasn’t it? He was gonna have a goddamn field day when he saw how much of the barn junk (stuff Colt was supposed to sell or toss) was coming right back home in the bed of his truck.

Least the guy could do was rid him of a horseshoe. "Only if you hang it right. Open side up, else all the luck pours out. That’s what my granddad used to say." A drunk old man, full of nonsense, but he had a kind heart. Colt looked a lot like him, minus the whiskey.

The rancher leaned forward and picked up another horseshoe —smaller, prettier, this one— and turned it over in his hand. "That one came off a mare we called Dolly." Yes. Parton. "Bucked my uncle straight into the feed trough, then kicked the truck door shut behind him." His eyes crinkled at the corners, when mouth stretched into a smile. "They all got a story. Truck's still dented."

The guy seems amiable, and nice, and there's a part of Rafael that, maybe unduly, wonders if he drinks blood (that doesn't make sense because it's daytime) or if he turns into a Wolf every four weeks or if he's just your average bog standard cowpoke at a flea-market hawking rusty old stuff to the kind of people who like to buy other people's rusty old stuff. God, is he that kind of people now?

He resumes looking around what's on offer, keeping a lookout for things Theo might think are cool, or useful. There isn't a lot there that fits such a discerning taste, but he's no quitter.

The ritual he'd read up on the morning of demanded the heart. Something about the transference of life to the heart, he didn't understand it in full. He'd only memorized the motions. It hadn't said how to get it, or how to deal with the shaking. Or the bile. Or the quiet sob he'd let out when his phone wouldn't load a rat anatomy diagram fast enough.

Still, he'd done it. Every step. And now, emotionally wrung out and smelling like iron and dirt, he's headed towards the Cliffside Motel. Just to clean up, catch his breath. He'd check in with his witch sitters later, and hopefully Jameson would not be too fussed about it.

The jacket in his hand is meant to cover his face on the way in. There's wipes in his satchel for the blood on his jaw that had spread there when he scratched his stubble with stained fingers. Blood's under his nails. On his sleeve. On his face. Everywhere. He just needs to get under the lights of the parking lot to clean up before he can check-in for the night.

He's just over the hill of the woods, still far out of reach of the lights when a voice rings out like a siren. Then a man.

His head snaps up. Declan freezes.

Oh god.

He drops the jacket and satchel. His hands go up instantly, instinctively - like someone trying to calm a startled animal. Or like someone trying to look less like a murderer.

"Okay," he blurts, voice cracking. "I know what this looks like. But I promise, I promise it's not that." It sounds bad. "I just...had a thing. In the woods."

"It sure does look like what it looks like, man..."

Backing away a few steps up towards the top of the small hill, he feels his shoulder budge against a tree and startles a little, nearly falling. "What flavor of crazy in the woods are you?" He asks, a bit of false amiable laughter alongside the question. He's got a great smile! Surely that will impress this guy!

The blood screams Vampire, and since he hasn't quite separated movie from reality yet, he hasn't quite realized he's got his arms in front of him in the shape of a cross. "Don't worry, I know shit, I'm not gonna call the cops, you don't have to kill me or braindrain me or whatever."

Another trees butts up against his back then, cuts off his slow retreat. "Ah!"

His table at the Portside Flea Market was simple — didn’t even bother with a sign. Just a few old saddle blankets, some worn horse tack, rusted branding irons, and a box of mason jars filled with homemade beeswax salve. Stuff that meant something once. Still did, if you asked him. His cattle tagger, Buck, had turned out to be claustrophobic. Said the barn was too crowded, too dusty, full of junk no one used. It was true, that Colt was oddly santimental. But that wasn't something Buck didn't know. Colt figured he probably had a light case of hypochondria too, but didn’t say it out loud.

A group of little kids had gathered around his table, touching up everything. "That ones older than you." He liked kids. He laughed with them like he was the same age, didn’t mind that they didn’t buy a damn thing. He wasn’t here for the money anyway.

The rancher wasn't much for people watching, but just then, someone caught his eye — standing right beside that old saddle with a cracked horn. It was faded, too worn to use.

"That one’s free, if you’re wonderin’, " Colt said, not looking up.

There were a couple more things on the table he wouldn’t take money for. Truth was, if someone needed it bad enough, they could have the whole damn table. "If somethin' else caught your eye, take that too. I ain't here to make money."

His eye's been caught by what looks like, at first, some kind of pop-up leather shop. The kind for line-dancers and pickup-truck enthusiasts, not the other kind.

He's caught by surprise when the guy pipes up about something next to him, and he turns "Oh, aah, yeah. No horse." He says, thumbing towards it with a shrug before he steps in a bit further to look at stuff. It's mostly just a bunch of old stuff. The kinds of things grandpas get excited about at estate sales or something. For him it's mostly interesting to pass the time. He picks up a horse shoe that looks like it might have been hand made, not machined. "This is kinda cool." He says. "It true what they say about these being lucky?"

He doesn't think he wants kids, though, so that's off the table. Diego's just fun to pal around with, and he hopes he gets to see the little guy grow up - if Theo and Raf decide to stick around Port Leiry, that is.

"Oh, yeah? Nah, I get you. Cliffsides is like - It kinda wigs me out, in a way? I've just heard some stories." It's been cleaned up some since they took it over, though.

"Oughtta get a Derby league in there, people do like watching that stuff, Theo might be into it too, I'm sure she misses it."

He likes Jude a lot - he's got a good head on his shoulders, considering the nature of things, and he's always been chill with Rafael occasionally kiting around Theo - he's honestly done a lot to quiet some of Raf's own nerves about well, the werewolf of it all. Not that he's raring to get bit and go running naked under the moon, but it's marginally made the whole situation less horrifying sometimes because of people like him, even if he's aware it's still something that he's not ever gonna be fully at peace with.

Jude laughs at the little thumbs up and gives him one back, turning his attention back up to Raf.

"Yeah! Shit, yeah! I was gonna give y'all a congrats at Infamy but I got all sorts of sidetracked, so hell yeah, man, congrats! But yeah, yeah, good to see you and little man here."

Diego likes Jude. Whether it's just Jude being a genial guy or some weird wolf thing that he doesn't understand (but, he would note, appreciates), he doesn't know, but he can't help but smile a bit at the interaction.

"Heh, we uh, we did too. That was a crazy night. Fun but... you know, crazy. And big." Big for him. Big for both of them. All three of them, really - even if Diego doesn't know how big it is yet. "Yeah, Theo should be... around, somewhere," he says, swiveling his head around to look for her. "I don't know, she'll show back up."

To Jude's further question he runs a hand through the back of his hair. "Uhhh you know, just living life in the fast lane. We've finally managed to get in touch with somebody to help at the motel, hopefully keep a foot down on some of the really crazy stuff. You know like, it's always gonna be crazy there, but maybe not constantly, dangerously crazy, you know?"

His bones still ached a bit from the full moon just two days prior, but that wasn't gonna stop him from heading out to the fair or supporting Retrocity and Bookends, and all the stores and shops in between. Port Leiry's pretty damn good about small business, and what money he has, he tries to be mindful of using locally.

With a giant foot-long hot dog including all the toppings in his hands, he wanders down the way over towards where he knows the arcade is set up. Hell, he's practically bouncing.

"Fuck, I'm gonna kick ass at this Street Fighter tourney." He says it to no one in particular when he arrives, mouth still half full of a delicious ol' dog." He gestures towards the back of the arcade, "As soon as my hands are free of the goopening, I'm gonna sign up. You?"

He hands Diego a cracker before adjusting the sling. The boy's starting to walk, and he's getting a little bit heavy, but Rafael's happy for the weight. He's not sure where Theo's run off to, but she's said she'll be back eventually. He claps Jude on the back, and Diego gives the other guy a thumbs-up, or at least the closest thing to it before he shoves the little puffy cracker into his mouth and looks at his dad expectantly, and Rafael realizes in a few heartbeats who he's been talking to while preoccupied with scanning the wandering pockets of people.

"Oh, hey! Jude, right? I'm Theo's fiancé, Rafael, I recognize you from uh, you know, drop-offs."

Theo will likely be buzzing with energy for a while longer, thanks to the whole werewolf thing. Maybe another Jell-O shot or three will help mellow her. But she notices Raf getting a little... nervous? Maybe he was replaying their performance in his head and getting a little self-conscious. Maybe he needed a Jell-O shot too.

She is sliding off a few easy pieces of costume -- the hat and bandana for one, as the sounds of the next performers' song take over the speaker facing forward into the club. "The heels will get you. Killer calf workout, though," she mentions, catching sight of her fake facial hair in the mirror and deciding it's not the worst. Like, she doesn't want it on her face after this, but it turned out alright, stayed on, and doesn't look like a creepy TikTok filter. So that's a win.

But as Rafael starts to talk -- and stammer -- Theo turns and pays attention. Her heart is thumping loud already and she can feel her pulse in her neck. But as he says sweet, awkward things, her racing mind kind of catches up to her eyes while her body stays frozen in its spot.

"Oh my god," she gasps. There's a ring, and her Rafa, and a cheering crowd outside and for a moment it's all for her. Shit, he asked a question. He asked the question. They'd talked about it a long time ago, worlds away, in another lifetime. But not even the whole werewolf thing or the baby or the cowboy drag could change her commitment to him. "Yes, holy shit -- yes! Rafael Garza, of course I'll marry you!"

Theo doesn't even wait for him to come to her, as she throws herself down towards him, wrapping his face with her hands and kissing him fiercely. That's gonna leave a beard mark.

That hopeful expression blooms into a full-bore smile and he laughs out all that nervous doubt. "Yeah? Hell yeah!"

Not even high heels can stop him getting back to his feet at that point, as he fumbles to slip the ring onto her finger - it's like a magic spell itself, for him. A promise to be there, through thick and thin, to be there through good and bad, through, fang and claw if he's gotta be. It's all of her that he wants to spend his life with. Sure, they've done some of this 'out of order'. When have they ever really been typical?

She does smile down at Diego, and encourages him a little - but doesn't get her fingers anywhere near his mouth.. just in case. "Hi, Diego. Little cutie, hm?" Looking back up, "Aria." With a gesture towards herself.

The story he spins is horrifying and her eyebrows furrow together the more he tells and she finds herself subtly shaking her head. "Gosh. That's really - I had no idea things could turn out.. like that." Another sip of the coffee to try and stave off anything tumbling out of her mouth that would be insensitive.

Diego seems to pick up on her voice, and looks back towards her, holding up a small truck toy, but then it falls out of an unsure grip and he happily goes back to playing with other things.

Ooh, she’s all revved up after that performance. Theo had downed a few Jell-O shots for courage before their set, knowing the three and a half minute song would feel like forever and nothing at all, all at once. And for what it’s worth, she didn’t totally space out – she remembers playing the crowd and actually having fun with her pardner out there. Lee Van Queef – it’s fucking genius, she can’t stop laughing. The Good, the Drag and the Ugly. Fuck, this was fun.

It almost felt, for all the oddity and spectacle of it, normal.

“Woo!” Theo hoots as Rafael spins her. “I mean, yeehaw!” She has the giddy giggles, putting a hand on her man’s chest as they walk back to a place to get off their feet – but not before cheering on the next performer as their name and number are called out front.

“Oh my gosh, babe, it was so fun. I mean, I think I sweated most of my mustache off, but everyone is so drunk and supportive out there. I wonder if anyone recorded it,” she says, looking out towards the stage entrance. Theo reaches up and helps right Raf’s tiny hat, running her fingers through the tresses of his wig. “It reminded me of being back in Seattle with the team… I mean, I miss them a lot but… looking out there, I saw folks I recognize from the park we take Diego to, and some other wolves, and a metric ton of vampires – and even Jude from the pack is dancing tonight. And everyone’s here to celebrate being queer, which honestly is even weirder when you’re like, half-a-monster, but…”

Theo shakes her head and laughs. “Sorry, yes. I had a blast. I think I’ve got the post-performance zoomies, y’know? This feels… this feels like the community I knew Port Leiry could be. But most importantly, did you have fun? You are so brave doing this with me, amor.”

All of it.

Ultimately he slides the wig off, just because it's kind of overly warm, and takes a big steadying breath. "Yeah... Yeah! You're right, for sure." He says, gripping on his little dressing table perch with his hands while he thinks about it - he misses old, quiet life, too - not quiet, maybe, but the way things were.There was less stress, in some ways, but really, they've kind of got a cadence now. They've got friends - well, Theo's friends are his friends at this point - he still keeps touch with some of the folks from his stint at Palmer's but busy is as busy does, and the Cliffsides is a fixer-upper of never ending proportions. But he has come to care for Theo's pals - her little pack - and she does do well in a pack.

When she asks after him he nods. "Yeah, not really my strong suit, but I had fun I wouldn't not do it again. Maybe less of a heel?" He leans in for a second after the joke, like he wants to share a quick kiss, but he hesitates before he steps back and fumbles around for something he's been smuggling around all night. "Uhm."

"Theo I uh... I've been actually thinking a lot, lately - about you know... here. Us. Diego. Everything you know, how much it means to me, and how we have... really kept it together, you and me and so... uhm, well, to hell with it-"

He sort of fumbles there, trying to kneel down in chaps and high heels that only kind of fit, and, awkwardly but confidently keeps himself upright while he opens the tiny box.

"Will, ah... wl'you marry me, Theodora Blackthorn?"

Medina took the cup, her fingers brushing the paper band as she glanced at her name written across it. “Not bad,” she remarked, lifting a brow. “Though if you forget, I won’t take it personally. I’ll just start making up new ones every time.” She watched as he settled in across from her, casually rooting through his bag. There was an ease to him, a kind of unfazed friendliness that wasn’t common in her usual circles. It wasn’t unwelcome, just… different. At his offer, she smirked over the rim of her cup. “Not heading anywhere in particular,” she admitted, taking a slow sip. “Figured I’d just see where the day goes.” A small shrug, as if that was the whole of it—because really, it was. No pressing obligations, no grand plans. Just the city, the coffee, and wherever she decided to go next.

"Well, if you're ever out over by the rougher side of town, I help my partner caretake the old Cliffsides Motel. I uh, heh." He shakes his head. "I uh, right now don't recommend anybody actually stay there, necessarily - there's a perfectly serviceable Holiday Inn like another mile and a half down the road."