It is currently 23:56 Pacific Time on Sun Jan 18 2004.
Currently the moon is in the waning Crescent Moon phase (21% full).
Dominion, Salem's office.

Rina knocks lightly, before coming in. It's not long after 12, and she's
      carrying a BLT on a plate.

He's got a decent blaze going in the fireplace, and the office is quite toasty.
      Salem, in black t-shirt and sweats, is in the middle of typing something 
      out on his laptop when she enters. His eyebrows rise a bit, surprised, 
      and then he gives her a faint smile of welcome.

"Hey," she says quietly, offering a gentle smile. For some reason, she looks
      radiant today--as if the past nights of crisis have slid from her spirit 
      like water, revealing something clean and bright beneath. "I broughtcha 
      lunch. Cat and I made BLT's."

"Lunch time already?" He glances over at the clock in rueful surprise, then
      shakes his head and shuts down his work. "How was church?"

Rina shrugs, her grin crooked. "Full of incense and theater, just the way I
      like it."

She slides the plate in front of him, and sets down the glass of ice water.

Salem smirks at her answer and closes and slides aside the laptop to make room
      for lunch. A muttered, but no less sincere for all that, thanks and he 
      takes a bite of the sandwich, eyeing her speculatively as he does so. 
      "You're looking well," he notes, once his mouth is clear.

Rina drops into a chair lazily, and watches him with a faint Mona Lisa smile.
      "Went dancing last night," she says quietly.

Salem arches an eyebrow, cocks his head slightly. "Just dancing?" There's a
      faint note of teasing in the Walker's thin, grating squeak.

The smile fades, slowly turning serious and thoughtful. "Dancing, and truth,
      and... confessions." She lowers her eyes, her brow furrowing a little. "I 
      took Jenny out," she says quietly.

Salem nods and takes another bite out of the sandwich. "Looks like it did you
      good," he murmurs after a moment or two.

Rina lets out a breath, slowly. Her gaze remains hazy, lowered. "I don't know,"
      she murmurs. "I really don't know. It'd be... better for Angelina, maybe, 
      if we got together. If we made it work. I didn't... ever think of that as 
      possible, but I am now. It's... easy to fall back into the pattern of a 
      relationship, maybe that's all it is... just that she's lonely."

Salem makes an acknowledging 'mm' noise, his expression thoughtful. "Do you
      love her?"

One shoulder hitches slightly; she leans forward, hands clasping between her
      knees. "I never stopped, really," she says softly. "It was me that-- 
      messed everything up. 'Cause I wasn't together enough, to be a parent. I 
      was so unstable that she-- didn't want me living with them."

Salem nods slowly. "At least you're not apt to turn bestial on them," he says,
      and takes a sip of water.

Rina swallows, and a flicker of apprehension crosses her features. "I don't
      know," she says softly. "I don't know. Because there's-- someone else, I 
      know I-- have feelings for, and there are reasons to say no, and--"

Rina glances over her shoulder, and jumps to go and take care of the gate.

Salem's eyes narrow slightly; as Rina goes to get the door, he concentrates on
      the sandwich she brought him.

Rina answers the front door a couple of minutes later. She looks stunning,
      dressed up and for once not looking ill. Even better, in fact, when she 
      smiles. "Hey, c'mon in... you want a BLT?" Glancing over her shoulder, 
      she yells out, "It's Sig!"

Signe isn't sure if the kin notices, but the get certainly notices the kin.
      "Yeah," she says absently, unable for a while to take her eyes of Rina. 
      "Love one." Eventually, she manages to find something else to look at, 
      making her way into where Salem is, giving the Walker elder a brief 
      little way. "afternoon."

Salem sets down what remains of his sandwich and waves the Get over to a chair.
      "Likewise. Have a seat."

Rina disappears into the kitchen, for a minute or two, to whip up another
      sandwich.

Signe pulls out a chair and settles with a casual sigh, slumping happily in her
      seat while resting her hand on the table. "I think you did a good thing 
      with the cub."

Salem gives a rather squeaky little grunt. "How is he?"

Signe is better at ignoring that voice, but the Get still shifts uncomfortably
      and is terrible at hiding that fact. "I took him into the umbra. Whatever 
      trouble he has accepting his more animal half, it's not impeding his 
      ability to cross over at all. He practically fell in."

"Fell into what?" Rina asks, coming in with a plate and a glass of water and
      handing them off to the Get.

Signe has a grin for Rina when she gets back--a thank you. "The Shadow," she
      answers, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite.

"Good, I suppose," Salem says, somewhat shortly. "Is he still sulking?"

Rina drops back into her chair, and listens. "He seemed happy enough to see me,
      when I came by. Kinda whiny but not too bad."

Signe shrugs, setting the sandwich down. she waits til she's done chewing
      before answering further. "I was going to take him hunting, but I didn't 
      get back to the woods yesterday. I hope he found something to eat." she 
      has to grin.

"I know somebody took him out after I was there, or they were planning to,"
      Rina observes.

Signe asks, "When was that?"

Salem finishes his sandwich as he listens, the warmth of his earlier expression
      long since shifted into something more guarded, more businesslike. "Time 
      will tell," he says at last, then grimaces thinly. "Need to whip Anthony 
      into shape too."

Rina looks across to Salem, bleakly. "God PLEASE," she groans. "He is SO
      insufferable."

Signe looks from Rina to Salem, a thought flickering suddenly in her eyes. "You
      know, I got a cub ahroun too. She's not ready for her riting just yet, 
      but, she's getting there. Maybe, if Josh comes around, they could go 
      together. Two's better than doing it alone. Maybe."

Salem's eyes narrow thoughtfully. "How far along is she?" he asks Signe.

Rina leans elbows on her knees, and watches quietly.

Signe has to think about it, pursing her lips. "She needs more of the basics.
      But she learns really fast. Loves to fight. Tenacious. I have to give her 
      history lessons more than anything else. Tribal voodoo and who do."

Salem grunts and sips water. "A possibility. Maybe throw Cat in with them. Get
      them to work as a pack."

"Cat's been gettin' better, with Josh," Rina observes quietly. "We had a talk."

Signe hasn't seen much of Cat and indicates this with a little shrug. "We'd
      have to talk about where to send them and what they'd be doing. But. It's 
      a thought, yeah."

Salem nods and sits back in his chair, fingers laced together. He looks over at
      Rina. "Did you get the info I sent from Jeremy?"

Rina looks to him, suddenly sober. "Yeah. Thanks. Y'talk to him yet about
      teaching you and Ant'ny security stuff?"

Salem shakes his head. "Not yet. Will, soon."

Signe pipes up, lifting her chin, "He was buzzing like a fire alarm when I last
      saw him. All juiced up over what he'd found out. I'm still not sure how 
      it all helps us. what exactly are we gonna do?"

Salem lets the Mafia-born-and-bred kinfolk field the Get's question.

"Try to bug their places," Rina says quietly. "Use the bugs the same way the
      Feds do, if we're successful: get more names, try to break any codespeak, 
      find out about operations. If we can't do bug insertion, or if we lose 
      'em, then we try to grab the guys and interrogate. But that's not quite 
      so helpful."

Signe wrinkles her nose and sighs. No doubt, the fact that these tactics are
      not the Get's strength has something to do with the sour and disappointed 
      look. "and if and when we find out what we need to know, then what?"

Rina's eyes narrow, and the faintest of smile touches her lips. "Then, my sweet
      muscled Get," she says softly, "we go to war."

"Hit things," Salem mutters.

Well, that's more to Signe's liking. No doubt the kin knew that, and expects
      the bright grin she receives from Signe. chuckling in a low, gravely 
      voice, she nods. "good."

Rina lowers her eyes, leaning forward a touch and looking at the floor.
      "There's somethin' I oughta tell you, while you're both here," she says 
      quietly. "Since it might-- make trouble for you."

Signe looks from Rina to Salem and back, good mood evaporating in an instant.

Salem's brows rise. He leans forward, chair creaking quietly, and props his
      elbows on the desk. Mismatched eyes fix intently on the kinswoman.

Rina looks across to Salem, her expression serious. "It's Charlie," she says
      quietly. A confession. "I--" Ducking her head, she rubs at the back of 
      her neck.

Salem frowns, but keeps silent. Waiting.

Signe sits up in her chair, the slouch gone. "What about her?" she asks,
      prompting the kin with a stern voice.

"I think we... I know that I-- have feelings for her." Her voice is awkward,
      pained. "I don't know if it's gonna be anything. But I don't... think 
      it'd go bad, even if it doesn't work out. She's not... the type to get 
      hurt easy."

Signe glances around the room. "I'm gonna take a chance and guess your
      husband's not one of the ghosts that haunts *this* place. What's he got 
      to say about you moving on?"

Salem's frown turns bemused for a moment, and then his eyes narrow. His head
      lowers, chin propped on his folded hands.

Rina swallows, and closes her eyes. "I don't know," she whispers. "I haven't.
      Not really. Not yet. But I gotta stay alive somehow." She wraps both arms 
      around herself, making her body small, huddled against the prospect of 
      more pain.

Signe goes to clean up her plate, pushing her chair back and standing up.
      "Maybe you should move," she suggests, assuming perhaps the ghost is only 
      in the loft.

"Or convince _him_ to," says the Walker Philodox, quietly.

Rina lifts her head to look across to Salem, betrayed and sharp. "I can't," she
      says hoarsely. "I already told you I can't."

Salem's jaw tightens. He says nothing.

"Doesn't have to be you," Signe suggests. "There are other ways--other
      people--better at nudging ghosts along. Theurges."

Rina presses her lips together. "We don't have any," she says quietly. "If we
      do this, if we talk to him we do it together. Try. I don't even know if 
      he'll come, if someone else is there. Maybe if it's Jack, and me." She 
      gets up, with an unecessary straightening of her dress. "Sorry. I 
      shouldn't have fucking said anything." Turning on a heel, she walks 
      out--fast, to escape before the tears betray her.

Salem watches her go, his expression baleful. "Fucking ghosts," he mutters.

Signe looks both irritated and disappointed. "shit," she says, adding to
      Salem's poignant comment. She continues on to the kitchen to get rid of 
      her dishes.