Fisher & Sons Funeral Home, Los Angeles, 2000-something, Saturday Afternoon.

[not_a_mused]

The travel through time and (air)space hadn't been so bad, and Cal realized that there were a lot of great things about going to California in a plane instead of hitch-hiking across America to get there. One, it was shorter and you realized you gained about three hours, despite the fact that they were already kind of going in the past, anyway (it

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[fisher_andsons]

A 50ish woman with Claire's hair, albeit slightly faded, glided in from some errand and looked distinctly surprised to find someone in her home.

"Dear? Did you need some help?"

[not_a_mused]

Cal stopped, blinking.

He could probably take a few stabs at ideas as to who this was, and that made it clear that mentioning he was looking for the dead bodies was not the way to go.

"Hi," he tried. "Mrs. Fisher?"

[fisher_andsons]

"Well, yes," Ruth confirmed, setting her bag to the side. "If you're looking for my sons I think they're both out, and I didn't think we had a viewing today." She frowned briefly. "Wait, are you the friend Claire mentioned might visit with her? She never tells me anything."

[not_a_mused]

The friend Claire mentioned? Cal was frowning briefly a little himself.

"Yeah," he nodded, and offered out his hand. "That's me. Cal Stephanides."