This was written some time ago and never published -- I think we were waiting on the GM to put it on a child page, but he was probably waiting on one of us to post it as a journal entry. It's a micro-scene, not long ago, and mostly features Honey Rose and Cal, sometime around when they were recruiting Danny Nguyen.

By the time Cal's HMMV arrived in front of Honey's condo, he'd already picked up Mike. She and Price climbed into their seats and they were off toward Texas 1.

She greeted Mike quietly as she settled in beside him, her black leathers dull matte shadow in the darkness. The initial "road trip excitement" settled down to an occasional murmur among them, Honey Rose mostly gazing out at the passing city, trying to find the words to say what needed to be said.

Ain't nothin' for it but to say it, Dashira Wyanet, she sighed, turning her attention to the man in the front passenger seat. If he dresses you down, ain't no better'n you deserve.

"Cal?"

The old soldier had been fussing with something or other that apparently had to do with his HMMV's weaponry. "Yes?" He flipped a console back up into the dashboard and looked back over his shoulder at her, an eyebrow arched.

"Ah owe you an apology," she said, looking at that moment very much like a little girl caught fibbing. "What Ah said at the diner this morning. Ah had no call. And Ah'm sorry."

It took a heartbeat before there was a response. "Thank you," he murmured, a small, understanding smile playing on his lips. It hit deeper than anyone but Honey, with her gifts, could see. He turned back to the road. "You're doing fine."

Relieved, she grinned and lifted herself to angle over the seat and plant a kiss on his weathered cheek. "Thanks Daddy."

That got him to chuckling in spite of himself. He really had no idea what to do with that information. The closest he'd ever come to parenting was turning young know-it-all boys into young men with a healthy respect for authority and the unknown. This was something entirely foreign.

"Thank me when I quit being stupid," was the best he could muster.

Her mouth went into gear before her brain engaged. "Ain't nobody got that much time." Then she slapped her hand over the grin on her lips -- much too late, of course, to call back the words she'd said.

"I love you too," Cal chuckled. "Daughter."