The post-drone jitters hadn’t quite left the cabin by the next morning; Eli and Dawn came downstairs only to find that their normal coffee companions were absent.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Dawn shrugged and reached for the coffee pot. “I’m claiming the porch swing while they’re out.”

Eli watched her grab a laptop and escape into the sunlight. This was how she normally was after missions and scares. She preferred being alone, diving into some sort of work until the memory of it faded.

As she settled into the swing on the back porch, Eli wandered upstairs to Banneker’s room, where he heard the muffled, chaotic sound of at least five concurrent live-streams. Against the absence of everyone else in the flannel brigade, Banneker’s buzzing presence comforted Eli. He rubbed the back of his neck, then knocked on the door. Perhaps the jitters hadn’t left him yet, either.

“Banneker?” he called. “Where is everyone?”

Wheels rolled across the floor inside, and the door opened.

“Hey, dude.” Banneker grinned from his seat, then wheeled back to his station. “Grim and Sherry took the boat out, and Ames is at the store. You wanna see?”

Eli raised an eyebrow. “Do I...want to see him at the store?”

“Yeah.” Banneker pointed to his bank of screens. As Eli had guessed, half the screens blared with various live-streams and videos, peppered in alongside the usual security feeds. But the middle screen was different. Eli leaned forward.

“Is that…drone footage of Ambrose?”

Banneker laughed and nudged a joystick on the desk. The footage swooped a little closer to the man, who was facing away from camera. From the look of it, he was in the produce section of a grocery store.

“He’s helping me test out a new drone.” Banneker stuck out his tongue as maneuvered the device. “Don’t worry, it’s totally invisible.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Eli started, but Banneker was already tapping on his headset.

“Ames, you copy?”

A loud, heavy sigh emitted from the speaker. “Copy.”

Banneker handed Eli a second headset, gestured for him to sit, then turned back to the screen. “Hey, can you get the orange peppers instead of the red ones?”

Ambrose paused to stare at the pepper in his hand. “Why?”

“They taste better.”

“They taste the same, Banneker—“

“They do not, my dude.”

Shoulders slumped, Ambrose swapped out the peppers in his cart. Eli scooted his chair closer to the desk and grinned. “Ames, what else is on your grocery list?”

Ambrose jolted at the new voice. A little old lady on the other end of the produce aisle shot him a look. He gave her a weak wave, then turned back to the carrots. “Eli, not you, too—“

“Can you get some chips while you’re there?”

Ambrose huffed as he bagged a few carrots. “Sherry doesn’t like it when I buy junk food.”

“Sherry’s on a boat. We’re your grocery gods now,” Eli said, then held up a hand. Banneker high-fived it. “Can you get dip, too?”

They continued torturing Ambrose as he pushed his cart through the aisles, sending him one way for bread, the other for chocolate chips. All the while, Banneker expertly maneuvered the drone over the shelves and around other customers.

“No, not that cereal,” he said as Beake reached for a box. “The other cereal.”

“Which one?”

“Hotter…no, colder…”

Ambrose gave up and grabbed five boxes at random. “I hate this, I hate everything.”

A man perusing the oatmeal selection glanced over at Ambrose. “You okay, man?”

Ambrose sighed and dragged his cart away. “Fine, thank you.”

As Ambrose trudged into the last aisle, Banneker navigated the drone to float just above his cart.

“I can hear it humming, Banneker,” Ambrose muttered.

“Good to know, will have to work on that.” Banneker jotted down a note. “While you’re in the candy section, can you get me something sour? Like, super sour. Really sour.”

Ambrose looked around to ensure the aisle was empty, then locked eyes on the drone, his blue eyes flaring.

An odd shiver ran up Eli’s spine.

“When I get back,” Ambrose whispered as he glared, “I am taking this drone, stuffing it with sour candy, then breaking it apart with my bare hands-“

“Can’t do that, I already named it.” Banneker swiftly moved the drone out of Ambrose’s reach. “Its name is Tom and it’s my kid now. Now, go get more hot cocoa, Eli drank it all.”

Eli broke his gaze from Ambrose’s eyes on the screen. “Hey! Don’t throw me under the bus.” He leaned forward. “But, uh…could you get the dark chocolate kind?”

Ambrose kept his gaze on the drone, grabbed the box of cocoa, and made a great show of dropping it into the overflowing grocery cart. Eli grinned and lowered his voice. “Thank you, Ames.”

He could have sworn Ambrose went a little pink before he turned around.

“You are not welcome, I’m never doing this again.”