Smiling at Everything

Jazz and Zack lounged on the couch of the moving tour bus the next morning. Jazz's legs were draped over Zack's, the bus walkie-talkie resting on her stomach. Zack was playing with her toes. During the night, Jazz stayed in Zack's bunk, watching while he slept. She decided against keeping him up. She hadn't felt like cutting and she liked watching him sleep.

It was her first night sleeping in his bed as his girlfriend.

Girlfriend. Jazz was Zack's girlfriend. She was with a man who she could actually consider doing more than just talking to. No other boyfriend or girlfriend made her feel like that. She had to be conned into holding hands, let alone kissing. Physical touch was far more precious to her after the series of rapes she endured. And sometimes she was uncomfortable with touch all together. It was a side-effect of what happened to her, and Zack was willing to deal with her.

"Are you okay?" Zack asked.

"I'm fine."

"You were thinking. That's not always fine in your case."

"This is just," Jazz hesitated, "different."

"What's different?"

"This relationship."

"Is that bad?"

Jazz shook her head, "It's perfect."

Zack smiled, "Then I'll take different."

The walkie-talkie on Jazz's stomach crackled.

"You're it," Dorian's voice rang from the object.

"Shit," Jazz mumbled.

"Start counting, hoe."

Walkie-talkie tag. The most important travel game of RxN history. Or just to Dorian and Jazz. The rules were simple: one would be "it" and would count to ten while the other would flip to a random channel on their own device to "hide." The hider would attempt to stay quiet in order to not get caught by the searcher, who would flip through channels until they could successfully find the hider. The hider would be safe if the searcher did not find them within a certain time frame, which changed depending on the number of channels on the device.

It was more like hide and seek but they preferred the term walkie-talkie tag.

"Fine," Jazz grumbled, "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten."

Zack smiled, watching Jazz press the walkie-talkie to her ear in concentration. She and Dorian had been at it for about an hour. It was fascinating that the two could be so easily entertained.

Even more so, Zack was surprised to see a real smile stretched on Jazz's face, real giggles bubbling from her throat to match. He didn't know if it was spending time with him that brought on the sudden happiness or the lightness she was feeling after revealing her secret to him.

It didn't seem like she was planning on telling anyone else.

"I can't hear him breathing," Jazz mumbled, pulling the walkie-talkie away from her ear and pressing the button on the side to flip through channels.

"Maybe he left the walkie-talkie in the living room and hid in the bunk area," Zack tried.

"That's against the rules."

"This game is too complicated."

"You just want to find a loophole to make the game lack stability," Jazz pressed the walkie-talkie to her ear.

"Oh, I'm not trying. It was created by you and Dorian. I'm sure this game lacks stability."

"We're smarter than you think."

"Not when hyped up on sugar and caffeine. How many cups of black coffee did you have before creating this game?"

"No coffee. Fifteen energy drinks and a bag of Sour Patch Kids," Jazz replied, flipping through the channels again.

Dorian had to expose himself somehow. He never was quiet when they played the game.

"I rest my case," Zack said.

"Beatrice, stop trying to be smart and go lift weights," Jazz returned.

"You like when I act smart."

"I also like when you give me Sour Patch Kids."

"I haven't given you Sour Patch Kids."

"Exactly."

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

"I'm telling you to get me Sour Patch Kids."

"What was that, Elvis? I can't hear you from the grave."

Jazz pouted, jutting her bottom lip out in an exaggerated fashion. Zack chuckled. She was so cute.

"Fine, I'll get you Sour Patch Kids later," Zack said.

Jazz immediately brightened, "Good."

She stopped at another channel, pressing the walkie-talkie to her ear. Breathing berated her senses.

"You're it," Jazz exclaimed, "I can hear you breathing."

Zack shook his head. There was no way this game actually made sense. But Jazz insisted it did. In fact, Dorian did too. Earlier, Lestat told Zack not to try questioning walkie-talkie tag. It didn't make sense to anyone other than Dorian and Jazz. They were two confusing entities.

"Damn it," Dorian grumbled.

"Stop playing with the walkie-talkies," Grim's voice rang from the device.

"Run, Jazz," Dorian exclaimed, "He's onto us."

"Channel seven," Jazz yelped.

She frantically clicked the button on the side of the device till the number seven appeared in bright neon letters on the screen. She stayed silent, waiting for noise from the other side of the device. Zack stared at her, eyebrow raised.

What the hell?

"Did we escape?" Dorian's voice floated from the walkie-talkie.

"I don't know," Jazz whispered.

"I don't hear him."

"Maybe he disappeared in a time vortex."

"Is that scientifically possible?"

"No, but those people in the movies do it."

"This could be a great discovery for science. Could you imagine all the new mathematical equations that would come from this? It's orgasmic."

"But that's only if Grim did get sucked into a time vortex."

"Do you think he did?"

"I don't know."

"I still can't hear him."

"Maybe if we stop talking, we'll hear him."

"Good plan."

They stopped talking. Jazz listened intently from her end, trying to pick some clue of Grim listening.

"I don't hear anything," Dorian said.

"Boo," Grim said, voice lacking emotion.

Dorian screeched, making Jazz jump and toss the walkie-talkie across the room. Zack burst into a fit of laughter, clutching his sides.

"It's not funny," Jazz whined, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lestat appeared in the doorway of the bunk area, the commotion drawing his attention. He shook his head, deciding it best not to ask questions.

"We'll be stopping in ten minutes for the beginning of tour interview and lunch," Lestat stated.

Zack, whose laughs stopped and breathes were shallow, sent a thumbs up to Lestat to show he got the message. Lestat turned and left the living room area, noting in the back of his mind that Zack was good for Jazz. She seemed different since they started getting closer.

He just wasn't sure how.