orangetoughguy | logging iv

[Rather convincing act, at least until he stand over him. Larry nudges his knee against Freddy's side.]

Hey. Rise and shine.

[The high he is riding right now makes him more foolhardy. The old man dips his fingertips into his glass to flick the droplets onto that freckled mug if he needs more incentive to 'wake'.]

[Nudge or no nudge, Freddy's about to call victory on his half-sleepy act but the droplets of liquor throw him off. Thhbhthtb. Wait. He gets a taste of it on his lip. Okay not so bad. Caramel green eyes remain half-lidded.]

You look perky. [Yeah. Perky. He said it. What of it, Dimmy?] How fast do we have to get out of here before someone wants to take a swing at you?

[Have a taste of victory, Freddy. It tastes like coconut.]

Uh.

[Glance behind him. Glance in front of him.]

Pretty soon to be safe. I wanna finish my drink first.

[Perky he says. Larry endures. Sip, sip before he crouches beside the other man. He leans in and the alcohol on his breath is no doubt more prominent as he whispers.]

We're good now, baby.

You must be feeling pretty confident to finish that off in front of all these people you just cleaned out.

[That's what happened isn't it? Sounds like it. Looks like it. Must be it. Again with the licking of his lips but it's only to polish off the coconut and rum.]

I do. I am.

[Eyes are fixed on him. He's not encouraging them to dash right away. Is he?]

Have some. It's well made.

[If only to watch him enjoy it, help the drink drain faster. Half full and all full of optimism.]

[How long has it been since his gut wound? How long has it been since they've been on the run? It feels like weeks. Is it two? Three? One? Either way the kid's belly has been healing well. Maybe he managed to take a trace of city magic back with him. All that considered he looks at the drink, looks at Lawrence Dimick, back at the drink, then back at Dimmy as he takes the glass for a sip. Caramel green eyes stay focused on those warm brown ones framed by crows feet.]

[He wants to say it's been three. Maybe closer to two. The days are feeling more separate then they used to be. And even though there hasn't been one past he hasn't checked over their shoulder, there is a great distance between those nights he'd wake to check on the man in the same room.

What's a sip? He hands the glass over and watches just as intently. The way he holds it. The way his lips touch the glass and where.]

Not too much now. Might to right straight to your head.

[The way it did to him. But this is his third on a not very full stomach. Leaner living from a more slim wallet has its results. Tonight they're gonna eat like kings.]

My head's not what I'm worried about.

[Freddy remarks after giving his lips another lick. Heh. Sorry Dimmy, you're not getting your glass back.]

So what now?

[He asks, waiting for Larry's orders. He won the pot, he calls the shots. For tonight anyway.]

No?

[Worried about them then? Dimmy smiles and rubs is fingertips up against his face. They still smell like cigars. Every poker gathering has a cigar smoker. Here it is that real fine Cuban sort. No exporting fees when it's closer. He crosses his arms.]

Now you and me we get to another location. Celebrate and live a little.

[He puts his hand out, believing there'll be a drink back in it.]

You up for that? A good fucking meal. A softer bed to sleep on.

[Is he speaking your language yet, kid? Brown eyes try not to hyper focus on the details of how Freddy swallows after each tilt of the glass to his lips.]

[That big nose takes a sniff, inhaling the aroma on Larry's thick fingers. Smells good. Then when that paw's outstretched Freddy puts his hand in it to get back up on his feet. Sip of the drink. It's fruity sissy shit but damn does it taste so good.]

I am totally up for that. I'm hungry.

[And for all the super cool dude he exudes the kid really could do with not roughing it on a shitty motel mattress or the backseat of the car for a night. Another compliment:]

You did good, my man.

[Ordering fruity sissy shit is part of the ploy. Gets everyone else at the table comfortable, thinking that he's gonna topple like a domino. The touch of his hand comes so easy, Larry gets him right on up to his feet.]

Just wait and see how good, okay?

[Because he hasn't taken out each and every bill from his pockets, or shown him the two rings he's got shoved into his pockets with those bills.]

But thanks.

[For cooperating, for being a partner and not a cop. Heading toward the exit Larry still keeps his eyes sharp.]

This is so good.

[Freddy says around a mouth full of fish and lobster and some other stuff that's so delicious he could cry. They haven't had real food in so long anything is good right now so actual culinary delights are a miracle. Not that Freddy Newendyke is much to measure against. Also they're apparently in a hot tub so he must be eating the leftovers they had to take back to their nice hotel room with a real shower and a real bed.]

You hit the jackpot, man.

[He says to Larry in a voice full of pleasure and satisfaction.]

[Fuck yeah, leftovers! The portions were tremendous. They had to take some along. Larry scarfed it all and is very content being out of clothes that would constrict his stomach. He did buy beer. There's enough to share.]

Failure wasn't an option, buddy boy.

[Especially when the option was dollar burgers and another night in the back seat.]

Failure always happens in gambling.

[He reminds the old man oh so thoughtfully before taking a sip of his beer and sinking a little lower into the water to make an 'ahhhhhhhh' sound.]

You know you're not supposed to drink in the hot tub? Something about blood pressure and falling asleep.

You mean moral failure?

[Snort. He waves off the question.]

So far I don't see any failure. We got a healthy sum to start out.

[That they have to enjoy! The old man lifts an eyebrow he settles too but not before taking another drink of delicious beer.]

I never heard that before. You better watch me, okay? I'll watch you.

I'm just saying.

[Freddy insists, freckled hands up now in a 'calm down, beast' gesture. Heh.]

Sure, I can do that. Sounds easy.

[Not to imply Lawrence Dimick is easy or anything of the sort. Ahem.]

I don't think we're failures in that sense though. By all rights we're just trying to do what we can to get to a comfortable place.

[Preaching to the fox faced crowd.]

And if you get sleepy, well I'll watch you too.

[Couldn't he crap too? Larry smiles at the scene. They're not in the City, they shouldn't be ever again...but this fees the most like the City. This moment right now.]

I'm not gonna fall asleep in the tub. Who knows what you'll do with all that money without me to keep an eye on you.

[Role reversal right there. Where Mr. White was Mr. Orange's protector down to bleeding all over the warehouse floor, Freddy Newendyke fancies himself Lawrence Dimick's protector, sometimes from his own bad habits. That's not really the case here though, Freddy's just shooting the breeze, indulging in their new (but finite) fortune.]

Me?

[Big paws go up and water runs down his fore arms.]

Fuck. The mind can wander.

[Freddy's mind. He doesn't confirm or deny thoughts of spending but he sinks lower into the water.]

I could get a real set of wheels.

They import stuff like that here?

[Freddy asks, sounding stupid sure, but how else can Larry legitimately purchase a set of reliable wheels without somehow trading favors or cocaina for it?? Legal sales of first world machines isn't exactly a priority in a developing world like Mexico. In his corn fed opinion.]

[Is that even a real question? Larry gives it a few seconds. Oh. Real question. He rubs his nose and leans for one more sip of beer before really lounging in the warm water.]

They import lots of stuff, kid. Export too. You'll see with your own eyes. Plenty of cars make there way down here. Sometimes all together. Sometimes piece by piece. Just because we're out of the US of A don't mean there aren't any car lovers our way.

[That person is no stranger he slowly moves to the other side of the big, huge tub. Legs splayed a little.]

I'd get a sweet, souped up ride if I didn't have someone keeping my vision focused.

Car lovers and car robbers.

[He mentions like it's an offhand remark which it is but also a reminder that while they're still on the run and sort of a marker on the radar they have to play it safe. Criminal morality is only a part of the equation. He might be healing and riding the high of a night gone well but years after the incident (set back to only weeks after) the kid hasn't forgotten just how he got shot. They need to be sophisticated about their moves.]

I didn't know you were seeing Benjamins.

[Freddy jokes, referring to the cash he got his paw on tonight. Well. Whoever the fuck is on the face of Mexican money. That proximity doesn't go unnoticed too. He sidles right next to Larry.]

The car industry attracts all kinds. I think we can benefit from a more legitimate route, especially with us keeping our noses clean.

[Not at all missing the fine point there. Being cautious will keep them going. Also keep them safe.]

Me and Benjamins have been involved. I wouldn't say we're seeing each other.

[His arm goes up in a stretch and settles over Freddy's shoulder. Warm water, a full belly and wallet really have a mood going.]

[It's a nice feeling, the weight of that heavy arm on him, the warmth of the water, the safety. Freddy can't help but laugh.]

Remember when I was a mechanic?

[In the City, first for a spiderwoman, then for a Stark. The kind that doesn't die.]

Uh huh. I do.

[He laughs a little about it. About himself.]

You'd come home all greased up and smelling like a garage.

[Larry leans and gives him a sniff like an attempt would conjure up the same odor. Smell has memory.]

How would you feel about doin' it again someday?

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