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Right, so our conversation hadn't gone well, but that didn't mean I should let him just walk away, right? Right. I followed him. I have long legs, so I walk pretty fast even when I'm not walking fast, and catch up rather quickly. About the time I drop my hand to his shoulder to stop him, there's a big flash, a big bang and we're...

...in a fucking desert.

"Okay, I know I wouldn't have wished us here. Please tell me that was you."

[ They're just outside Vegas-ish area. ]

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"I hope you didn't just ask me the single stupidest thing I've ever heard, Dresden, because I'd have to stare at you and with us out here, I'm gonna need that moisture."

"No, I was really hoping you did this on purpose. Don't ask me why, because this seems to be about right for my life of late."

There's not even a rock I can sit on. There's just sand. Lots and lots of sand.

"Don't suppose you have a brilliant idea for getting us out of this?"

"Well, my plan involves putting one foot in front of the other," he said as he pointed out into the sand, "and heading for that road. Roads at least go places. We'll follow the road and try to figure out where the hell we are."

"Smart ass," I grumble under my breath.

"Was hoping for something a little cooler than that."

He looked sideways at Harry.

"Do you know that spell that produces an air conditioned car with a full gas tank?"

"Missed that day in DuMorne's Twisted Teachings of Wayward Wizards. Sorry."

Hey, I can be a wiseass too.

"Yeah, my teacher didn't cover that one either," he said with a snort.

He continued walking.

"And alliteration is so last year."

"I'll bet you think you're funny too?"

This is going to be a long walk. Really long. And I have sand in my shoe.

"I know I'm funny. Whether you have a sense of humor or not, that I'm not sure about."

Walking.

"Yeah, that's me, the joke-killer."

I hate the desert.

"Weren't we just in a desert a year ago? Trying to teach kids how not to get killed while sweating to death in the blistering heat?"

"Yup. And you were crabby then too."

Carlos was still annoyed with him.

"Since we get to spend so much quality time together here, since I don't see anyone else around for miles, how about you telling me what, exactly, is up your ass?"

Because I can't spend the next several hours walking and snarking. It'll wear me out. Plus - pissy friends are no fun.

Carlos turned.

"What do you think is my problem, Dresden? Take a guess, man, and don't give me any shit about it because you don't tell me fuck all about anything yourself."

"I don't have the first damned clue."

I'm not fucking around, I really don't know. Maybe I have an idea. I'll start with the last thing I remember saying before he turned all weird on me:

"I'm hot and tired and I've been bumped around to far too many strange places of late and it's starting to get to me. But before, in the little hamlet I'd been tossed into, I had a few minutes to relax. I was a little worried about money, but I'm used to that. What I wasn't used to was the quiet. The atmosphere devoid of the possibility of some nasty critter jumping around the corner to try to kill me. For the first time in years I got to feel like one of the 'normal' folks. Sometimes knowledge is power and sometimes it's a huge burden that sucks your life away."

When too many things start pounding on your door - or your head - sometimes the only way to make it stop, is just to get away. Sure, I put myself out there, in public, as a wizard and I take my lumps (more than my fair share in some instances), but that doesn't mean that it doesn't get to me. That I don't sometimes wish that I could just slip out unnoticed and let someone else take over. I know that I have to do the things I do because, in most cases, there isn't someone else who can do it, but dammit, I'm still human like everyone else.

If anything, Carlos looked more pissed off.

"Like you're the only fucking one," he snapped before heading for the road again.

Harry hadn't dug through the dead bodies of twenty thousand innocent civilians. Harry hadn't lost friend after friend after friend. He'd had his casualties, but the close ones hadn't been taken out.

Carlos had had three 'best friends' in as many years.

Harry hadn't had to come to anyone's house to tell them that their little girl or their little boy wouldn't be coming home. He hadn't had to deliver swords to grieving families. And where Harry had been kept away from some of the nastier bits of a Warden's duties because of his well-known opinions, Carlos hadn't been given such a privilege.

"I didn't say that. Not sure I even implied that. But you seemed to be pissed off that I was enjoying relaxing and not having to worry about having my face torn off. I never said that what was going on back home didn't matter or that I wasn't concerned. But there was nothing I could do about any of it from where I was. Worrying about it wasn't going to change things."

Sometimes I'm horribly pessimistic, other times, I'm just a solid realist.

"Except from the way you talked about it, it was like you hadn't even tried. Like you just thought that you got a vacation. Why?"

"I had tried. Walked myself in circles for three days. Got a little dizzy. I also think I got trashed or drugged at that interesting bar/club I found and lost about a week, but I'm not entirely sure." Hey, the women were hot, I forgot to pay attention to what day it was. "I ran every scenario I could think of past my personal database keeper of the supernatural to determine if any of them would work and no go. I'm not the type to give up without a fight, Ramirez. I'd just exhausted every option I had available. And, I did invite you to come up with your own."

He quirked his lips.

"That's not how you made it sound. You made it sound ilke you didn't care," he said, obviously calming down.

I shrug. "Caught me on a bad day." I frown at him. "I was having a beer at noon. That should've been a clue."

"I work in a restaurant, man, I see people drink all kinds of stuff at all kinds of hours," he pointed out in return.

"But not me. I don't usually drink until dinner time."

He looked sideways at Harry.

"And I'm supposed to know your personal habits how? Do I look like your cat?"

I tilt my head, looking at him closely. "Now that you mention it..."

"...don't make me punch you, man, it's not my style."

"I'll have you know that Mister is a very distinguished member of feline society."

"Why do you think I bring offerings when I come?" he said, his usual smile back on. Carlos isn't the type to hold grudges.

Also, they've hit road.

"Which way do we go 'George'?"

I peer up at the sky - the sun - and look around a little, trying to get my bearings. "Well, do we assume directions are the same here as they are back home, then choose north or south based on that?" From where I'm standing, to the right is north and the left is south; east is to my back and west is forward. That is, if the direction of the sun is any indication and it follows a similar pattern to home.

"Yeah, but do you know where south or north would lead us? I mean, it's pretty arbitrary which way we head."

"We could make a lot of assumptions," I say and squint at him. That sun's really bright. "Assuming we're somewhere like Earth and the US, this being the desert, north will take us toward Canada and south, toward Mexico. Considering south means hotter, I vote for the Canucks."

"But considering that we don't know if any of those assumptions are true, and that Mexico is closer than Canada, I vote for Mexico.

"Plus, I speak the language. You as good at French as you are with Latin?"

"You do know that most of the Canadians actually speak English, right?" I'm not glaring, but I am giving him a look. "Only the fools in Quebec insist on speaking French."

Yeah, I'm gonna fight for the cooler climate.

"Sure, but there's also the fact that surviving heat is just a matter of getting water and hiding from the sun whereas surviving cold takes a little more. And do you have any money?"

"Did I say go to Canada? I said toward. I don't actually want to be a Canuck quite so close to the beginnings of winter. 'Sides, you asked me which way to go and I chose north. If you didn't want my opinion, why'd you ask?"

"Because it's funny to hear you say 'Canuck'," he said with a grin before starting to walk south.

I almost glare at him. "So which way, tour guide? My vote's still for north."

"I'm heading this way," he said. "Mostly cause of the buildings."

"Whatever. If we get eaten by cannibals or something, I'm blaming you."

"Cannibals are a maybe. Heat exhaustion, dehydration, and sun stroke are definite. Which way do you wanna go?"

"At this point, wherever there's a place I can find shade and a chair. The chair's actually optional at this point."

Carlos just rolled his eyes and started towards the buildings.

"What? After all this walking, I'm going to need water and a cool place to sit."

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