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Truth. Justice. Minesweeper.

Monday, April 18, 2005

So there I am, working away at a big pile of database updates, when Cassie comes in.

"Hi," I said, because I'm that kind of guy.

"Hi," she said, and sat down on the corner of the desk. "I have something to tell."

She looked serious. I shuffled my chair over. "What's up?"

"I just talked to Greyghost, and he said... Anyway, I'm going to Los Angeles. I'm moving. Greyghost said I was ready."

"What?"

"Dennis, I'm moving to Los Angeles," she said.

I sat back. "Wow."

"Well, you know I'm a California girl at heart. I'll be closer to home. And I never could handle the weather here."

"Yeah."

"And it's not like... They need superheroes just as much there as they do here. I already talked to Daylighter and he said I'd be godsent. So, you know, pay Peter to rob Paul."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Were... I don't want this to sound like it probably will. Were you going to move back there all along? Was this always the plan?"

"No! I would have stayed, if we were still together. But I don't want to stay now that we're not."

We sat there for a couple of moments, staring into different corners of the room.

"Okay," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Good luck, and take care of yourself, and, you know..."

"...And all that crap," she finished.

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

"When are you off?" I asked.

"Tonight, actually," she said. "I'm gonna see if I can fly the whole everlasting way."

"What about your stuff?"

She hefted a knapsack. "This is it. You know me."

"Traveling small."

"Yup."

We stared into the corners again for a while.

"So is that it?" I asked.

"I think that's it." She got up and slung her knapsack over her shoulders.

We said goodbye, and shook hands. And she left. And that was it.

I wanted to talk to somebody. But who? Cassie was gone. Ron didn't know the background. Greyghost? As if. Cruickshank? Double as if. Bob, maybe, but he's been on some space mission recently. Ingrid? Mmm... no.

So I walked down the back hall to Room 28 and switched on the interdimensional teleconferencing machine. Dennis2, on the other end, was turning his set on at the same time, and waved at me.

I waved back.

He gave me the single-up-nod, to ask me what was going on. I extended my arms like Cassie does when she flies, and looked at him questioningly.

He closed his eyes and shook his head no, slowly, twice. I held my hands out, palms up, but he just shook his head again. Finally I nodded acceptance.

Then I looked up to see if there was anything Dennis2 wanted. He mimed pulling on an imaginary jacket and buttoning it up. Then he looked at me questioningly.

I didn't know what he was getting at for a second, but then I realized the way he buttoned up the jacket matched this jacket I got as a birthday present for Ron. I had stowed it in Room 8B for safekeeping; there's nowhere to hide stuff like that around the apartment. Dennis2 must have forgotten where he left it. I wrote '8B' on a piece of paper and showed it to the camera.

Dennis2 slapped himself in the forehead, grinned, and gave me the thumbs-up. So, you know, there's one problem solved.

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