He'd been slaving away for half an hour now. It should've really taken him half the time, and half the energy expended. The frustration at trying his hand in the kitchen was evident, orange juice making his arms and torso sticky and burnt bacon bits floating on top of a burnt tea towel in the rubbish bin.

Joe was putting the finishing touches to his masterpiece as Leo watched on from a distance, his head on his paws, seated on a couch. His interest levels had waned after 'the incident', which was what Joe would use to describe Leo's love of playing tug of war with whatever Joe was holding, this morning being the bit of cloth that was now thrown away evidence that fire wasn't meant to be that close to it, for whatever reason.

"Finally." Joe said as he put the freshly squeezed glass of orange juice onto the tray which also had a bacon and egg toasted sandwich and some freshly cut up fruit.

Maybe he should stick to letting Ilaria cook. That much was obvious. But given the day it was, he set a mission to put something together for the women he adored. She'd changed him. Changed his life. His dreams and ambitions now included more than just himself, and largely revolved around how he could make her happy.

This morning was another one of those Joe moments. It had his heart in it and the execution was a little, fiery. The wide open window in the loft helped the smoke escape, Joe hoping the smell of a potential sleep killer wouldn't spoil his surprise. With tray in hand, Joe walked out of the kitchen and headed towards the bedroom, stepping in a still to be cleaned puddle of milk, a post war spillage that was used to finally put out the small Leo inspired fire.

Joe smirked as he placed the tray down on a free side of the bed then took a seat. He loved the look of her, sleeping or otherwise. And if he hadn't felt so proud of coming out a winner in his breakfast battle, he'd probably let her sleep all morning and just enjoy how peaceful she looked. Without a prompt though, Ilaria started to stir from her sleep.

It was the smell of bacon that gently lured Ilaria out of her deep sleep. Bacon and...smoke.

Smoke? Why was there smoke?  

She opened her eyes and blinked against the morning light a few times, then saw Joe seated beside her, smiling as he looked over her.  The bacon smell was closer than the smoke, and Joe was smiling, so everything must be fine.  Carefully, she rolled over and propped her head up on her hand with a sleepy smile.

"Well my goodness.  You've been busy this morning."

She rubbed her eyes a little and yawned, then got a better look at the tray of food sitting on the bed beside her.

"What's all this about, handsome?"

"Can't I just want to do something good for you?" Joe grabbed at some fruit with a grin then tossed a piece of apple in the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth.

There was more to it than that. The recurring dream had something to do with it. It reminded him of the one on the plane. Both were about death. The plane one had his name on the slip of paper the reaper was tasked with crossing off. This latest string of nightmares, Ilaria's. It haunted his waking moments, yet also made him appreciate her more and more.

The apple hit Joe's lip and bounced off to the side where Leo was quick to get to it, having been waiting at the door after following Joe. Looking back at Ilaria with a concerned look, Joe moved closer to her and laid a kiss on her forehead.

"I've been having this odd dream. I don't know what it means but I hear there is this gypsy that can interpret these things."

Joe wanted nothing more than to rid himself of this burden. It was unsettling. Maybe this women could help.

Seeing the look in his eyes, Ilaria sat up after he gently kissed her head. Settling back against the pillows, she picked up a small bunch of grapes and studied his face.

"A recurring dream? My grandmother used to say those were very powerful. But I can tell it's got you concerned. Where did you find this dream doctor?"

She grinned down at Leo, who was sitting attentively beside the bed, having just gobbled up a piece of apply.  She then took a grape from the bunch and popped it into Joe's mouth with a little smile.

Joe smirked as he was fed the grape. He was concerned, but not far gone within himself that he couldn't enjoy Ilaria's playfulness. He kissed his appreciation onto her lips, then swallowed.

"Well, it was a weird encounter." Joe begun, taking a grape and returning the favor.

"She just kind of appeared out of nowhere. But seemed like she was suppose to be there."

Joe had his ideas about the Roman and Greek Gods. He had a new found appreciation and respect for mother nature. But found it hard to believe something he didn't quite grasp, intellectually.

"I dunno." He said, shaking his head.

"Maybe I'm going a little nuts. But it seemed like she was there, at that moment, just to meet me. It was a crowded street. Cars passing in both directions. But she just kept looking at me."

Joe now seemed a little lost, like he was back there, envisioning it as he spoke, his eyes glazing over.

"And there were many people out. I'm not sure why she singled me out. We had a brief chat about the sun and the wind before she disappeared. Something caught my attention, and only for a split second, but then she was gone when I turned back." 

With a distant look, Joe was unknowingly toying with the fruit. Coming back to a set of hazel's glowing at him, Joe smirked.

"Interesting, no?"

Ilaria chewed the grape and listened carefully.  

"Wow, it almost sounds like she knew you'd be there. It all sounds very mysterious. Maybe it really means something."

Having had her own share of alarming dreams in the last months, the idea of someone who could interpret dreams was definitely interesting. She reached out and squeezed his hand.

"You should find her.  If nothing else, at least you won't have to wonder.  Sometimes just having an idea can make you feel better about things. Besides, dream meanings are a diagnosis I can't accurately make."

She picked up half the sandwich.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Well, since you're offering." Joe said with a pleased smile.

He was hoping she'd want to come along. This whole thing had him feeling a little weird. His dream spoke of something he'd never want to experience and yet all he'd do when he lay his head down on the pillow was relieve that moment, over and over again. He knew she had good people watching over her. Joe had helped pick some to do the task. But with this looming, he had to seek answers. On top of that, he wanted her where he could see her. If something were going to happen he wanted to be there to stop it.

"She said to seek her out, if I needed to see her. She just didn't see where, or how exactly."

From the bathroom where she was brushing her long hair in front of the mirror, Ilaria called back to him.

"Maybe we start where you saw her, then?" 

Reaching down, she lifted the delicate ruby bracelet from a small crystal dish and snapped it onto her wrist with a sweet smile.

A few moments later, she returned to the bedroom in a pair of dark gray slacks and a dark red sweater that gently hugged the curve of her growing belly. She ran her hand along his cheek and down to his chin, kissing him. 

"Maybe we start where you saw her, then?" 

He was walking down Race Street when it happened, doing the rounds, collecting newspapers from some of the boys that were under the group's protection. The Philly Inquirer was owned in part by Midas, under partnership between Charlie Pavanno and Joe Adonis. The boys that worked the beat might know something more.

As Ilaria joined him, where he was now sitting up in bed, still yet to make an effort at getting dressed, Joe kissed her back as he placed his hand on her stomach, giving it a rub. He then looked down at the bump, smirking.

It wouldn't be long before he'd have to play the fatherly role. He imagined it would have lots of proud bonding moments, over guns and whisky. Maybe not right out the gate, but eventually. And hopefully the dream he was having wasn't literal. After a moment of appreciating what was the miracle of creation, Joe bounced out of bed.

"I say we start with Timmy. He might know a thing or two."

Joe had already slipped one leg into his pants and was hopping around, trying to get the other in.

"Are you sure you're up for this?"

Ilaria chuckled and sat on the bed, slipping her feet into her shoes.

"I realize I shouldn't tempt fate, but really, what kind of trouble can we get into looking for a gypsy woman on the streets of Philadelphia?"

Not so long ago, earlier in their relationship, it seemed like every outing ended up with flying bullets; but between their security and a lot more street credit than they'd had before, their luck was a bit better.  Still, couldn't hurt to be prepared.

"And I'm glad you said that about Timmy, I need to see how his stitches are doing since he busted his chin last week."

The streets were humming. It reminded him of that same day, except this time they were outside The Parkway Central Library. Joe exited the vehicle swiftly. He was itching to see what Timmy had for him. Maybe he would know something about this dream doctor, likely not, Joe was more focused on the numbers inside the paper the newsboy was going to slap into his palm. It was going to tell Joe how much one of the street level crews were making, moving the new product up and down the Beast Coast over the first month.

Outside the car, Joe noticed first the sun beaming down. So much so, he thought to notice it hitting his face and cheeks, warming his forehead. It was a nice morning for it, for what, who knew. Adontoro weren't without risk. They did survive past breakfast, though, so there was that.

Timmy was shouting out profanity at a passersby when Joe and Ilaria approached. Joe glanced over at the small plaque of gold letters in black stone. There were only seven words, with no other names included:

For the mothers who read to us

Timmy was suppose to be selling papers. It took a few minuets before Joe was able to wrestle the priest to the ground, who was now also being very loose tongued, as Joe was had the elderly man in a headlock.

After helping the man of cloth move along, Joe turned to find Ilaria talking to Timmy.

Knelt gingerly on the ground, Ilaria gave the rough young man a little smile. 

"You know, if you bust your stitches fighting, I'm not going to give you novocane when I stitch them back up."

The boy didn't really reply, trying to look tough; but he couldn't hide the slightest hint of a grin at the gentle doctor lady.  Ilaria took a clean tissue from her bag and soaked it in rubbing alcohol.  She cleaned the wound, then used the rest of the tissue to wipe the dirt from the boy's face.

"I think Mr. Adonis has some questions for you."

She winked and slipped a fifty cent piece into his hand, then reached for Joe's hand so he could help her up.

"Why would you be attacking a man of God, you nut?" Joe said as he helped Ilaria to her feet.

"He didn't want to pay for the paper. Was saying his work meant he didn't have to. So I told him to get fu..."

Joe tugged downwards on the grey woolen cap, pulling it over Timmy's eyes.

"I bet you did."

After a ruffle of the boy's head and hat, Joe outstretched his hand expectantly. The gesture was understood, a specific newspaper handed over, which ended up being tucked into Joe's armpit.

"Now, there's something else. We're looking for a gypsy women."

The street was lively, people passing one another on the sidewalk as Ilaria and Joe interacted with Timmy in front of the library entrance. He had found this to be a great place to sell the daily offering of The Philly Inquirer. People came here to read, after all, so Timmy felt they just needed some empty headlines to accompany something with more meaning. It worked for what his task was, which had him leave his post everyday having no more papers to give.

Ilaria cut in, noticing the kid wearing a broach that looked a little different, unique even. At first glance Joe thought it seemed to represent a type of letter, one relating to the runic alphabet.

Ilaria reached foward and ran a finger over the little pin on his collar.

"What's this, Timmy?"

The young boy cracked a grin.

"She gave it to me. She said it would give me protection and make me smart and strong."

Ilaria's eyebrows raised a bit and she glanced back at Joe, then back at Timmy.

"Do you know where we can find her?  Or what her name is?  We think she can help us with something."

Timmy raised his pointer finger and gestured toward a non-descript, almost hidden door across the street.  It was painted a dull green and had a sun and moon roughly painted on the front. 

"She lives there, in a little apartment upstairs.  Sometimes she brings me oranges."

Ilaria gave him a smile.

"Thank you, Timmy- that is exactly what we needed."

"Hmmm." Joe said with a squint, looking at the door.

Timmy made himself scarce, skipping off down the street, likely to change that fifty cent piece into something sweet. 

"This is all a little strange, no?" Joe said with an uneasy look, glancing at Ilaria.

Their guards weren't following along. It would just be the two of them in an unknown place with who knows who or what. These days, Joe would have hotel rooms prepared before any meeting and people thoroughly looked into. This was all very spontaneous, and dangerous given their lifestyles. But, something was edging him on. A quiet kind of confidence, reassuring him, silently.

Still, Joe waited to see what the educated one in Adontoro thought, as he also started to feel a hankering coming on for a decent coffee.

"It's...something; but I have a feeling we're alright. This close to the Parkway Central Library, I don't think we have anything to worry about.  Tara knows everyone on this block and the six around it.  We're probably ok.  I think?"

She took Joe's hand and squeezed it, then looked across the street once again. This time, the odd green door slowly opened, and a young woman appeared in the door.  She looked to be no older than 25, and had long, black hair with braids and bits of colored thread woven in.  She looked directly at them, as if she knew they had been standing there.

The baby gave a strong kick, which caused Ilaria to jump a little with surprise. She looked at Joe and kind of laughed.

"Well, this just keeps getting stranger.  She knows we're here- let's not keep her waiting, hm?"

"You're not joking."

Together they walked across the road, making sure to not get cleaned up by any cars in the process. Joe noticed whenever he looked somewhere else to check his surroundings as they crossed, and then looked back again, the gypsy girl seemed to have kept the same, blink-less direct gaze. It had a kind of piercing feel to it, one that drew Joe's attention and curiosity.

That was the way with things of spirit. They touched you before you even realized it. You could be walking along and just feel someone's attention on you. Some you could even pick up on their intentions, good or bad, depending on their strength of willpower. It was all a new world to Joe, this level of it, but he was keen to see what this dream stuff all meant and why the gypsy had sought him out.

Standing at her stoop, Joe was about to introduce himself when he realized that had been done before. The thought of their sun and wind conversation brought a smile to his face, cutting through the uneasiness he was feeling till this point. She wove a great tale about the nature of love the elements shared and how they expressed it. At the time he heard it, Ilaria came to mind.

A silence ensued, one that still lingered on as Joe and Ilaria were welcomed in through the green door.

The woman's expression softened as they approached the door. She looked first at Ilaria, narrowing her eyes as if she were looking for something; then looked to Joe.  She raised her chin slightly in greeting, then moved aside and gestured for them to come in.

"I have waited for you, Giuseppe Doto. Please come inside.  My home is humble, but it is my honor that you have come."

She motioned for them to go on up the stairs, where another open door led to her small, two room flat.  The main room was a sight to behold.  There were several expensive looking rugs that completely covered the floors, and the walls were adorned with various tapestries and swags of silk or other fabrics.  In the center of the room, there was a large, round table covered in a black cloth that touched the floor. There were several stones and crystals set around the table, along with a shallow dish with a bunch of dried herbs burning in it. A stack of what appeared to be some kind of cards sat near the stones, and in the center of it all there was a heavy looking ball sitting on an ornate metal base.  Ilaria thought to herself "ha, they actually have crystal balls."

The quiet and mysterious woman motioned toward the chairs that were arranged at the table.

"Please sit, and tell me what it is you seek today."

The woman took a seat as well, picking up one of the stones from the table that was attached to a delicate silver chain.

Joe watched the women with a sharp focus, the kind he'd have when drawing a weapon knowing it would be used at some point to follow. Sometimes he'd have to wait to squeeze the trigger, sometimes it was immediate, but that focus had a particular experience. It was a present, open awareness.

The mystery surrounding the gypsy didn't diminish with her greeting. Giuseppe Doto? He didn't remember telling her his name in their first encounter. Not that name. Last time he spoke it was in Italy. A trip he'd never forget for many reasons. A derailed bombed to shit train ride the main instigator. Fuckin' steak.

As they moved into her humble abode, Joe took a moment to look the women over. She seemed nice enough. Her gaze was forward, not allowing any eye contact. But Joe did notice a slight smile on her face. Maybe he was imagining it. She did look a lot more stern than their first encounter, though, light smile or not.

Joe made sure to let Ilaria walk up the stairs first. He didn't think she would, but just in case, he'd be there to catch her. Joe's then thought that maybe this gypsy knew he was going to do that, somehow. She knew his name without him having said it. He swore he didn't. Maybe she could read thoughts? MAYBE she was reading his thoughts about her reading his thoughts?

As he stepped into the large room, Joe immediately turned back towards the gypsy women, hoping to get some kind of indication he wasn't going a little nutty. She simply walked past him and moved towards the table, which as Joe's eyes followed her, he was now taking in. There looked to be some sort of rocks and a heavy looking ball.

Joe stepped forward, a few steps behind Ilaria. As he approached the table, he noticed the herbs and a pile of cards, which eased the tension in his shoulders a little. Something familiar. Maybe she played poker.

"Please sit, and tell me what it is you seek today."

After a glance in Ilaria's direction, Joe took a seat alongside her.

"Well." Joe said without hesitating, his eyes still noticing the various things on the table.

"I'm not really sure how else to say this."

His eyes met the gypsy women's, and for a moment he sensed a depth in them that seemed to speak of a language he'd not yet heard. Not even their street encounter showed him these eyes.

"I think we're suppose to be here."

The woman cracked the smallest trace of a smile.

"You are always where you are meant to be, every moment of the day.  It does not matter where you are, only that you are there and what you do with your time."

She looked to Ilaria and reached out the hand holding the pendulum. Ilaria hesitantly reached out and opened her hand. The gypsy woman placed the stone and chain into Ilaria's hand and curled her fingers over it.

"Hold this, please, until I tell you otherwise."

With a somewhat awkward but polite smile, Ilaria took the item and looked at it, then rested her hand back in her lap, gripping the black, shiny pointed stone. Meanwhile, the woman took the deck of long cards and began to shuffle them.

"I know your names already, Giuseppe- son of Michele; and Ilaria, the healer, but you do not know mine.  I am Rosella, and your energies came to me long before you arrived.  I have messages for each of you."

She began laying cards face-down on the table.

"First, you, Giuseppe. You are a man of great power.  This I know from those who speak on the streets.  But the spirits tell me more.  They tell me you are troubled by your dreams, and you seek me to know what they mean. What did you see?"

When the cards were arranged in a diamond-shaped pattern, she looked up, finally making eye contact with Joe.