Miles To Go

Old Home Week..... or not.

I didn't really want to admit to anyone just how much I'd been looking forward to the meet in Deadwood. I don't think they get that even now... even ten years from now... even a lifetime from now... if one of them needs me, I will drop everything to go.

The first time I ever realized that Harbinger's crew was going to be more than a crew to me, I think I'd been there a year. Harry and Shyla had this rapport between them that I'd watched since I came on board, and I'd built my own relationships. But a year is the longest I'd ever flown with anyone by that point, and one night we were sitting in this pub sharing a round of beers when Shyla asked me straight out, "You ever gonna let us in, girl?" I was sort of surprised. Not like I'd been unfriendly ever, but ... you know, when the Black is what sings to your soul, you tend to get a little solitary. I thought I'd been friendly enough, but I guess I wasn't really friends with anyone. So I took my time, swallowed a mouthful of beer before I answered her. When I asked her what she wanted to know, Harry just smirked. Shyla was pretty straightforward. "Why don't you start with what's got you running? And then decide if you want to be part of this crew for good or not. Cuz I think you're a good fit, and if you let it happen, I think you're going to find that you already have your niche in this family."

So I told them. Told them about my bastard of a brother-in-law, told them about what happened... that I'd been cleared of charges and all but couldn't face my sister easily. Told them about the music I hear in my head when I fly, like my whole life has a musical score. Each of them has a piece of music in my head that fits them, and when we're all together, it's a different kind of music. And when we're in the Black, that's a different one too. Now, yeah.... I was drunk off my ass by then, waxing all poetic and shit. But... there you have it. I gave them the deepest part of me. And something shifted that night.