Part 2 (1/2)
How the h.e.l.l was a person supposed to sleep with all that mooing and c.o.c.kadoodledooing, and only G.o.d knew what else was going on out there? I t was just plain creepy, that's what it was. What were they saying to each other? And why?
Wasn't the window open? Maybe she should get up and ...
The next thing she knew she awoke to yellow sunlight.
She'd slept after all, even if she'd had an unsettling farm animal dream where they were all decked out in military fatigues.
Her first thought was coffee before she remembered where she was and barely muttered a curse. They drank tea over here, and she didn't know how the h.e.l.l she was supposed to deal with the day she had ahead of her without a hit.
She dragged herself up, looked blearily around. And spotted the robe at the foot of the bed, and the memo cube sitting on it. She reached for the cube, flicked it on.
”Good morning, Lieutenant. In case you're still half asleep, the shower's straight down the hall to the left. Sinead says to come down for breakfast whenever you're up and about. Apparently I 'm to meet you about noon. Sinead will take you wherever we're supposed to be. Take care of my cop.
”No bad guys, remember?”
She put on her robe, and after a moment's deliberation, stuffed her weapon in its pocket. Better on her, she decided, than left in the room.
And mourning coffee, she walked down to wake herself up in the shower.
CHAPTER 2
THE BED WAS MADE AND THE ROOM TIDIED when she finished her shower. Did they have droids? she wondered, and decided she'd been smart to take her weapon with her.
I f they had droids, why not an AutoChef in the bedroom-one with coffee on the menu? Or a screen so she could scan the international crime news to see what was happening at home.
Adapt, she ordered herself as she dressed while some species of bird went cuckoo-literally-over and over again outside the window. This wasn't New York, or even a close facsimile. And surely she was racking up good wife points every minute.
She raked her fingers through her damp hair-no drying tube in the facilities-and considered herself as ready for the day as she was going to get.
Halfway down the steps she heard more singing, a pretty and bright human voice lilting away about love. And on the turn for the kitchen, she swore she caught the siren's scent of coffee.
Hope s.h.i.+mmered even as she told herself it was likely just sense memory. But the scent snagged her and drew her like a fishhook the rest of the way.
”Oh, thank G.o.d.” She hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud until Sinead turned from the stove and smiled at her.
”Good morning to you. I hope you slept well.”
”Great, thanks. Is that really coffee?”
”I t is, yes. Roarke had it sent, special, the sort you like particularly. I remembered you've a fondness for it.”
”I t's more a desperate need.”
”I need a strong cup of tea in the morning before I 'm human.” Sinead handed Eve a thick brown mug. She wore trim oatmeal-colored pants and a bright blue s.h.i.+rt with the sleeves cuffed at the elbows. Some sort of hinged pin scooped her hair back from her face and fastened it at the back of her head.
”Have a seat, get the gears moving.”
”Thanks. Really.”
”The men are off looking at machinery, so you can have a peaceful breakfast. Roarke said you'd go for a full I rish.”
”Ah ...”
”What we'll call a civilized portion,” Sinead said with a quick grin. ”Not the heaps the men manage to consume.”
”I 'm really fine with coffee. You don't have to bother.”
”I 'd like to bother. I t pleases me. Meats already done so I 've got it warming. I t won't take but a minute or two to cook up the rest. I t's nice to have company in the kitchen,” she added as she turned back to the stove.
Odd, Eve thought, very odd to sit down and actually watch somebody cook. She imagined Summerset, Roarke's majordomo, did a lot of it as he stocked the AutoChefs.
But hanging out in the kitchen, especially with Summerset, was on her list of top-ten nightmares.
”I hear the c.o.c.k woke you up.”
Eve choked on her coffee. ”What?”
”Not that kind of c.o.c.k.” Sinead sent a sparkling look over her shoulder. ”Though if that's true as well, good for you. I meant the rooster.”
”Oh, right. Yeah. I t does that every morning?”
”Fair or foul, though I 'm too used to it to hear him go off most days.” She broke eggs into the skillet. ”I t would be like traffic noises to you, I suppose. Just part of the world you live in.”
She glanced back again as food sizzled. ”I 'm so glad you're staying another night, and we've got such a fine, bright day s.h.i.+ning on your gift to Roarke. I thought I 'd take you over there a bit early, so you could have a look before Seamus brings him.”
”The pictures you sent gave me the gist, but it'd be good to see it first-hand. I appreciate all you did there, Sinead.”
”I t means the world to me and mine. I t's more than a grand anniversary gift, Eve. Much, much more.”
She took a plate out of the oven, added the eggs, fried potatoes, a small half tomato. ”And here's brown bread fresh this morning,” she said, putting the plate and a crock of b.u.t.ter in front of Eve, then taking a cloth off a half round of bread.
”Smells great.”
With a smile, Sinead topped off Eve's coffee, then brought a mug of tea to the table. Waited while Eve sampled.
”Tastes even better, and I 've gotten spoiled when it comes to breakfast.”
”That's grand then. I like feeding people, tending to them. I like thinking I 've a talent for it.”
”I 'd say you do.”
”We should all be lucky enough to do what we like, and what we've a talent for. Your work gives you that.”