Alien vs. Alien

now, so it was nice out. I put on my Converse, a pair of comfy jeans, and one of my many Aerosmith shirts. Things were always better with my boys on my chest. I brought along my zippered Lifehouse hooded sweat jacket, because it could still get too cold for me here, and besides, I liked to ensure I had my rock bases covered.
    I packed up what Jamie would need and got her stroller out. It was top of the line, a baby gift from Reader. He’d also had every known A-C bell and whistle added onto it, including a laser shield. That had saved not only my and Jamie’s lives, but the lives of the boys and Mr. Joel Oliver, too. Operation Assassination had certainly been explosion-filled.
    I settled Jamie intoed Jamie the stroller so that she was sitting up but protected by the sunshade. Hung the diaper bag on one strong hook, put my purse over the hook on the other side, draped my jacket over the sunshade.
    I was ready to call for the boys when something cooed. It was right by my side. The male Peregrine I was pretty sure had been sent to me, specifically, was there. He looked as though he had every intention of accompanying us on our constitutional.
    “You are staying here.”
    I got another coo and a hurt look.
    “I’m going to pay a call on Capitol Hill. I think. But they don’t let animals in.”
    Another hurt look, and a pointed look into the stroller to stare at the Poofs.
    “They’re smaller. They look like stuffed animals. No one notices. They also can disappear if necessary.”
    More pointed staring, at the Poofs and me. The bird for sure looked as if its feelings were being hurt.
    “It’s not safe out there for you.”
    Got a bird look saying if it wasn’t safe for a Peregrine, it certainly wasn’t safe for me or Jamie.
    “Animal Control will take you away.”
    Really felt the bird was telling me Animal Control could feel free to “bring it.”
    “Oh, this sucks. Com on! Walter, can you connect me to Mister White?”
    “Yes, Chief. Go ahead.”
    “Missus Martini, how goes your morning?”
    “I have a Peregrine refusing to leave my side, Mister White.”
    “They are loyal.”
    “They are a problem. I’m getting ready to gather you and the boys so we can put our plan of talking to Mister Joel Oliver, Senator Armstrong, and our friends in the K-9 squad into action. I’m bringing Jamie along, and we have three attack Poofs with us. I think we’re safe. Bruno the Peregrine Enforcer, however, feels otherwise.”
    White coughed. “Is, ah, Bruno standing there with you?”
    “Yes. Why?”
    He sighed. “Like the Poofs. . . .”
    I looked down. “Bruno?”
    The Peregrine bobbed his head, fluffed his feathers, and gave a manly coo.
    “He likes it. Bruno it is. But Bruno has to stay here, guarding the manse. I can’t go to visit Senator Armstrong to discuss faked dirty pictures with a humongous bird strolling alongside like it’s a Labrador.”
    “Actually, you can. I’ll be right up.”
    I eyed Bruno while we waited. He seemed quite pleased with himself. I wondered what his mate was called. “Your woman would probably prefer that you stay here with her.”
    Bruno gave me a look that indicated his woman felt the execution of his assig of his ned duties was paramount. I wondered how I’d gone from no idea what went on in a bird’s mind to having one-sided yet comprehensible conversations with a space avian.
    There was a knock at the door. Bruno went with me to open it. Just like a dog. White was standing there. He looked ready to head out, too. That was good. Right now, nothing else was, so I was happy for any small victory.
    “Richard, oh, my God. This is a nightmare.”
    Bruno ruffled his feathers and gave a quiet squawk. It was clear that I’d insulted him.
    “Sorry, Bruno. I just wasn’t prepared for your arrival.”
    Bruno nudged his head against my leg, indicating that he knew I was stressed and all was forgiven.
    I looked back at White. “Richard, I’m losing it. I swear to you I’m having conversations with Bruno.”
    He nodded. “I’m sure you are.”
    “Oh, I hate it when I make an insane comment and someone says it’s natural.”
    White shook his head. “Probably not natural. As I said last night, it’s likely your talent.”
    “I know you said that last night. And it sounds as ridiculous this morning as it did then. I may be mutated, but how in the world would I inherit some bizarre Doctor Doolittle talent? I’ve never heard anyone mention speaking with the animals as