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"We do not really know where, or who, we are. We are lost, drifting in a void between the distant stars and spinning planets. But at least- yes. At least we are lost together. Until we are found, goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight." The red on-air light blinked off, and Cecil sighed. The rain was still pouring down outside, although it was significantly less toxic. Cecil had, unfortunately, walked to the station today, and he was not excited for the wet trek back home. Intern L',un, whose name Cecil was still struggling to pronounce correctly, opened the door a crack and glanced in at Cecil.
"Are we done for today?" she asked. "My ride is waiting for me, but..."
"No, we're done." Cecil said, glancing around. He grabbed his coffee cup, papers, and machete. He checked his pocket for his phone, and stood. "I'll walk you out."
"There's no need-" L',un started, but Cecil interrupted."It decreases the fatality rate of the interns significantly when they do not attempt to reach the lobby alone," Cecil said, and he grabbed his coat. It was a quick walk today, and thankfully the endless hall of mirrors from that morning had disappeared. L',un pulled her hood up over her head, and sprinted to the waiting car. Cecil sighed, and before he could head out his phone vibrated in the quick, regular rhythm that indicated Carlos had texted him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the text.
Hey Cecil
I'm at the store
Picked up some Big Ricos for us tonight
Are you still at the station?
Cecil grinned, texting back a complex emoticon expressing joy over good food and endearment for Carlos's thoughtfulness, as well as confirming that he was still at the station. The reply was almost immediate.
Stay there
I'll come pick you up
You walked today, right?
A few minutes later, Cecil spotted Carlos pulling into the station parking tree and waving at him. He ran out, pulling open the passenger's side door and slamming it behind him. The car was warm, bright, and smelled like a combination of mysterious chemicals, hot cheese, and the smell of something long since forgotten.
"Oh, Carlos!" Cecil exclaimed. "You got my favorite kind of pizza! Distant Memory!" Carlos had been confused by the name the first time Cecil had ordered it, but when he had smelled the color of his old house, he had been more confused. Then he had run tests on the pizza. The predictable end result was the he was, eventually, more confused. Cecil had told him to give up on making sense of Night Vale, and Carlos had looked as stunned as the time Cecil had announced that most Night Vale citizens did not feel pain.
"If I gave up when I was confused, I wouldn't be a scientist." Carlos had said, and proceeded to order a pizza that caused you to believe for thirty second intervals in the fact that you were, in fact, a piece of candy corn. "A scientist," said Carlos, "Revels in confusion and the ability to become unconfused." Remembering this, Cecil turned to Carlos.
"Are you unconfused yet?" he said, and Carlos started laughing. There was a definite hysterical note in that laughter, and Cecil reminded himself to ask Carlos about his day at the lab.
"Anyways," Carlos said, as he pulled the car into their driveway. "I liked your show today. It was mandatory listening while I was running some... tests. I found it very interesting, scientifically speaking." Cecil practically glowed with pleasure as he unbuckled his seat belt and standing belt. They dashed across the yard, the grass humming at them in a discontented manner, and quickly closed the door. Carlos pulled a box out of his pocket, taking an allergy pill before he had removed his coat. Koshek must have noticed, or was just feeling contented today, because he purred loudly at Carlos. Carlos blinked.
"Cecil, does Koshek normally purr in Latin?" Bemused, Cecil thought about Koshek's time at the station.
"Not that I am aware of," he replied after a long moment. Carlos pulled out a small notebook and noted something, pulling Cecil's wrist up so that he could look at Carlos's watch where it was comfortably resting on Cecil's wrist. He furrowed his eyebrows, looked at Koshek, and then took off one arm of his coat. He got distracted again by his notebook, and walked up the stairs dragging his coat behind him. Cecil stopped him, looping an arm around his waist and tugging the coat off his shoulders. He took off his own coat as well, and released Carlos to go up the stairs. Carlos, instead, put his notebook into his pocket and took the pizza from Cecil, carrying it up the stairs with him.
They were sitting on the couch munching contentedly on their own memories when Cecil remembered Carlos's hysterical laughter earlier. "How was your day at the lab?" he asked, and Carlos sighed.
"It was raining." he said, as if rain was something unusual.
"I know," Cecil said, confused by his tone.
"Cecil, it was raining. In the desert. And the rain was made of milk."
"Well, what else would it rain? Animals? That's only when the glow cloud is around, and anyways-"
"No, it's just that the meteorology for a rainstorm made of milk is very complex, and I am not a meteorologist. I am a scientist." Carlos hesitated, weighing his question. "Are the clouds made of milk too?" he asked after a second.
"No, of course not." Cecil said. Carlos smiled, and Cecil added quickly. "But remember, this week clouds do not exist." Carlos nodded.
"Of course." he said, and he munched on his pizza for a moment. Then, he took a piece and dropped it behind the sofa. There was a thud of the pizza hitting a plate, and somehow the secret policeman managed to eat without making any noise.
"That's impressive." Carlos said. "How is he eating his pizza without the screaming noise it makes whenever you breathe?"
"He's not breathing, maybe?" Cecil said, and Carlos's eyes lit up with Science. "Remember, you've exceeded your quota of experiments on secret police officers this month," Cecil reminded him gently, and he mumbled some assent while lost deep in the world that he dreamed up, full of experiments and new ideas. He set his pizza plate on the end table, and leaned on Cecil, laying his head on Cecil's shoulder. Carlos fumbled with the television remote, eventually turning on a Western.
"You like Westerns, right?" Carlos asked, eyes closed. Cecil nodded, smiling, and they sat together on the couch, watching duels between good and evil. These duels, Cecil had learned, took place where it never rained milk, and he smiled again in the dim light as he saw Carlos was watching the movie as well, pretending to not be interested. They sat together, Carlos and Cecil and the Secret Police officer, watching bad westerns into the late hours of the night.