They left the hospital and the Ranger drove them in the Fordasaurus to Lenna's apartment. Arriving there as he had intended to do earlier, but under radically different circumstances than earlier. Instead of arriving to pick up some of her things he was arriving with most of what remained of his own. The garage at Lenna's apartment didn't have the clearance for the Fordasaurus, he had never tried to park in it before, but upon trying had to back up and find another place nearby to park.

He parked the truck and let the engine idle a short while before killing it. He had some things in his truck, it was equipped to function as a mobile command center or staging area, but he would still have to spend most of the next day or so replacing lost clothes, equipment, and other assorted essentials. He stepped down out of the truck before long Lenna and him were up at her apartment. Her apartment, that was now his home too.

It was a big change from when she'd dragged him home, drunk, for coffee. For starters, she was not the only one drunk. That might have been a hindrance. It may have sounded terrible, but after her offer, she was feeling self-conscious. Maybe the offer had been a bit hasty? And since he would still be near, perhaps he'd want to know about Johnathon.

Lenna did not want to talk at all about what had happened back in Michael's apartment. She did not want to burden him, or give him questions. Even though he was amazing, and she was sort of proud of what he'd done back there... if that made any sense.

One did not need to burden or bring up difficult pasts to invite a man in for some real, homemade Columbian coffee. That was good. Lenna directed the Ranger to the kitchen, and started the brew in the machine. She was silent. Contemplative. Michael's car had not fit in the garage. He would need to find new things tomorrow. For tonight, all he really had were what he'd had in his car, and the clothes on his back. He didn't even have a toothbrush, that she was aware of. And... she didn't really feel like nobly sharing her bed.

Lenna finished the coffee, and poured them both steaming mugs. The woman sat one down in front of Michael, then sat down across the table from him. She cupped the mug between her palms and let it warm then. An unconscious sigh escaped her as she bowed her head and inhaled the aroma. Coffee was usually good for alleviating stress, she reasoned. But right now, it just made her feel like fidgeting, buzzed.

They entered the apartment and then into the kitchen where Lenna started a pot of coffee. The Ranger took a seat at the table, his head still hurting but much of the pain had subsided now, by contrast his black eye was now at its apex. Granted it wasn't terrible, most likely would be gone in a few days.

Neither of them said anything. The Ranger was working out what was lost and what would have to be replaced. Clothes and the like would have to be replaced, but things such as furniture would not be an issue as Lenna's apartment was already furnished. Most of his guns and ammunition was not in the apartment so he would still have the majority of that. Yet, things like his old uniform, data on his computer, and other assorted personal effects would be almost impossible to replace or even if replaced wouldn't be the same.

After a while the Ranger was pulled back from his thoughts as Lenna set a mug of coffee down in front of him before sitting across from him. With a "Thank you." he took hold of the mug and drew it closer. The aroma from the coffee masked the smell of smoke that was coming of him.

"I don' think yer landlord had planned on the owner of an F650 livin' here when he built the garage." The Ranger jokingly stated, sounding as if it was absurd to have not considered that a massive vehicle such as his when constructing the parking garage. Part of him wanted to talk about Johnathon, but he had just beaten the man with a fire extinguisher while an apartment burned around him. Needless to say he had had enough of the man for one day.

Lenna glanced up at the joke. Her mouth turned in a lopsided frown. "Guess not."

The woman took a sip of her too-hot coffee. She scalded her tongue. Bleh. More frowning. Lenna set her coffee down, and looked at Michael.

"I should make something to eat," She mused, thoughtlessly. "What should I make?"

Lenna brought up food and asked what she should make. He hadn't even realized he was hungry until then. What should she make? Well, what was he hungry for? Food. Meat. It didn't really matter. "What kind of meats do you have?"

"That's a good question." Lenna replied dimly. She let her coffee cool. "I'll go check."

Anything was better than talking about Johnathon. Even taking meat inventory.

Rising from the table, Lenna escaped the table, leaving Michael with two mugs of coffee to drink. And a whole lot of silence.

Lenna left to go check, leaving Ranger at the table. He sat there for a bit, blew on the coffee before bringing it to his lips. It was still hot, but too hot so he drank some. As he did he thought about Lenna, she sounded distant or at least like she had something occupying her mind. Though, given what just happened that was probably to be expected to some degree.

He took his mug and stood up. He had been sitting in the car and the hospital, he just felt like standing for a little while. He took the chance to look around the room, sure he had been there on several occasions but it wasn't home then.

There wasn't much to see in the kitchen. It was very white. 'Simple, yet elegant.' The oven sat, built into the cupboard area at the left-most end. Between it and the fridge, four under-sink cupboards sat for storage. Above the stove, a fan-and-light vent was set in steel. On its right, two glass lights hung. Below the lights, a metal shelf jutted out, and below that, to the left of the metallic silver microwave, a professional-looking sink. Then there was the fridge. Stainless steel, large. That's where Lenna was.

Meat, meat, meat. What kind of meat did she have? Or was it a 'they', now? No. A she. "Beef." Lenna announced, mostly to herself. "And deli ham. Frozen chicken. Hamburger. Bacon?" What else...? "Tofu?" She looked over her shoulder at Michael, seemingly for confirmation. "What are you hungry for?" More importantly, what did she feel like cooking?

It was defiantly nicer than the kitchen that once stood in what had been his apartment, though he had spent more money on things than the place to keep them. It also was quite a bit neater, but that was mostly the table as the counters were clean to prevent something from getting in his food and giving him food poisoning.

Lenna called out what she had, beef, deli ham, chicken, hamburger meat, bacon, and tofu? Tofu was certainly not a meat. The rest of those were though. She asked him what he was hungry for. If beef meant steak, unless it was left overs that was out. It would take far too long to prepare, it could wait for another day and the Ranger could treat Lenna to some good Texas grilling as every man worth anything from Texas could grill a steak to give anyone else a run for their money. "Anythin' 'cept ham or tofu." Tofu, so weird to even talk about the stuff. The Ranger didn't even consider it real food.

"Tofu, it is." Lenna muttered, snagging the hamburger meat. She carried it to the counter, then got to work making hamburger patties.

Making hamburger patties isn't hard. You shape the meat, prepare the pan, and fry. Turn, as needed. It didn't take long for her to have two hamburgers ready for them, on wheat bread. She had a separate tray for sliced cheese and condiments. It wasn't excessive, but it was a meal.

Lenna carried the meal back to Michael, and set it down. Then, she sat back down and got to making her burger.

He was answered with an almost to quite too hear, but unmistakable, tofu. The Ranger raised an eyebrow and raised a hand as his mouth opened to protest. "Wait-" Then he saw that she had actually retrieved hamburger meat. He lowered his hand, chuckled slightly, and shook his head. She'd gotten him.

The Ranger took a seat again at the table to wait. He propped his head up on his thumbs, elbows on the table, and closed his eyes. When he no longer could hear the meat being cooked he opened his eyes, and withdrew his arms from the table before Lenna set down food. "Smells delicious." He looked over the tray of condiments. Cheese, check, lettuce, check, tomatoes, check, onion, check, jalapeños, not check. "Do ya have any jalapeños?" He looked up at her as he slid his chair back to get up and retrieve them should she say yes.

Lenna looked up at him, from her burger.

"In the fridge," She said.

Lenna dropped her attention back down to her burger, and eating, leaving him to retrieve what he so desired.

She confirmed there were jalapeños in the fridge so he rose and made his way over the fridge. A quick rummage around and he had them, a jar of sliced jalapenos, in his opinion a must for all refrigerators. He found a fork and then was back to the table.

Now that he had his jalapeños he could assemble his burger. Meat, cheese, tomatoes, onion, lettuce, and jalapeños. The only thing better would have been fried jalapeño strips, sliced jalapeños, bacon, pepper jack cheese, sweet and spicy habanero and hickory bbq sauces, lettuce, and tomatoes on a half pound or more beef.

The burger assembled, he dug in.

The good thing about eating was, no talking. Meant no thinking. No worrying. About really, anything. Just munch munch munch. Om nom nom. Lenna was unfamiliar with lolcats. That was, perhaps, good in her omnomnoming endeavors.

Michael's hamburger looked good. Idly, Lenna wondered if he wasn't a better cook than her. She'd have to test him at a later date. The man had to pull his own weight, after all. It wasn't like he could just ignore the common household chores.

The Ranger devoured his burger and before long only the feeling of him breathing fire remained of it. It was a good burn, though jalapeños could stand to be hotter assuming they maintain their flavor if they did so.

When he was done he looked at the table, no napkins, and then moved to wipe his hands on his jeans. Then, he saw a roll of paper towels on the counter. He stood up, made his way to the counter, ripped off a paper towel, and then wiped his hands with it leaving his jeans spared. He then brought the roll over and set it on the table for Lenna. "You cooked, so I'll take care of the dishes." It was only fair, he lived here now.