Page 63 of Double Shot
“Does he get to pick all the movies?” Lach asked, hooking a thumb at me.
“Well, no, but he gets first choice, and then we do what we do best.” She leaned over and gave him a peck on the lips. “We share.”
“The Smithsonian, the other Smithsonian, the National Art Gallery, the National Geographic Museum.” I started ticking fingers off.
“The National Spy Museum,” Lach added grinning.
“Aye, that one,” I agreed.
“Can we go to a theatre?” Sadie asked. “Fancy dress-up like?”
“But we’ve already got a movie night,” Lach protested.
“You mean Broadway, stage theatre?” I asked. She nodded.
“Those seem so fancy, glamorous.” There was an almost shy smile behind her eyes.
“What’s hot?” Lach asked. “I’m not a Broadway guy, the only play I think I know is the one with all the cats in it.”
“You meanCats?” I asked.
“That’s the one, I don’t want to ever see that again, though.”
“When did you go to the theatre?” I asked.
“Mate, on a contract, about three years ago, the Stage Guild guy and the drug pusher?”
“Oh, yeah. I did make you sit throughCats.”
“There were other options?” He looked at me, his eyes darkening.
“Oh aye, I just thought you would enjoy singing cats,” I laughed. Sadie smacked me on the arm and then she laughed. “So, here’s what I personally would want to go to,Hamiltonis still on Broadway, obviously. The Frank Lloyd Wright production ofPhantom of the Operais at the Baltimore Hippodrome, including the one-ton chandelier that flies over the audience.”
“Wasn’t there aSpidermanplay?” Sadie asked.
“Yes, and if it were still playing, I would still say no.” I scowled. “Comic books have no place on the stage.”
“What, noBatman Versus Superman, the Musical?” Lach asked.
“No, absolutely not,” I countered.
“This feels a little bit like the time-share,” Sadie said. “But in a better way. I like this.”
“I do too, Poppet,” I agreed.
* * *
After every sparring match,there was aftercare. Hair was smoothed, kisses were exchanged, and we would sit quietly, just touching – back-to-back, heads in laps, sometimes laying across each other when the grappling ended. She was a natural in many things and her skill grew quickly. Confidence bloomed when she learned how to hold her own.
When she figured out how to get inside someone’s guard, or how to break a block with a kick, her grin was impressive.
Things started to feel normal again, and the looming sense of paranoia was greatly lessened. It certainly helped that the news had plenty of coverage about the mounting campaign against the Escadrille and the heroin trade in general. They were getting their noses bloodied at every turn, down to local militias taking to storming the Escadrille poppy fields and burning them to ash.
Our schedule turned into a very splendid routine. The first part of the week we would start the days with breakfast then some sort of cardio. Lach liked treadmills and free running, I picked either the elliptical machine at the neighborhood gym or stationary bikes. Sadie alternated between spin with me, or running with him. I couldn’t take the impact, even after the replacement prosthetic arrived.
Afternoons were sparring matches, hand-to-hand. We took turns with Sadie, and even Lach and I squared off regularly. The hard part about sparring and grappling with her was the distraction that came. For every match that came up with hurt pride and angry feelings, there was a sparring match that ended in a post-coital shower. Most though, went like any sparring match.
Then it was regular showers and a cultural evening. The museums in DC were close enough to visit in a day. There was no shortage of them, and some were large enough to warrant more than one visit. After wandering through art galleries, and halls filled with dinosaur skeletons or the history of aviation and space, we would find some casual eatery. Burger World, that sandwich place, the little hole in the wall ethnic places where we were challenged by menus that weren’t American food, where sometimes the menu wasn’t even in the English alphabet.
