[The only other times Lawrence Dimick wore another man's load was on a few sloppy attempts at a blowjob. Not willingly. It's a privilege. And it wasn't with a person who wanted to personally clean it off of his face with their own tongue.]
Thank you.
[Larry's tongue follows the other all the way into Freddy's mouth.]
So you gotta be sleepin' here.
[With the cigarette smoke and floral perfume. Just as planned.]
[Rustle. Rustle. Now he'll lay his head a few inches from Freddy's. No moving out of bed for anything. One muscled, tan arm lays on that freckled body next to him.]
Down Under is a good name for a bar in the underground. It's a place people go to let loose and not worry about getting noticed. Pushing past the bar, the old man finds Freddy. At first he doesn't say anything, choosing to hang back and watch the man waiting. Is he catching anyone else's eye? Some 80s tune is playing.]
[Larry's so damn astute. Freddy can be observant too but one of the things he can never quite catch is when someone else is admiring him in ways that go beyond his own achievements like winning a contest or holding the latest issue of Iron Man. Nope. This kid doesn't see the roughneck observing him from behind his own beer, several tables away. Freddy's too fixated on his own beer and the strawberry-topped kitten in front of him. No it's not a real cat, it's a key.]
[Although he doesn't exactly jump from that clapping paw Freddy is surprised to be caught unaware but that's not unexpected from a professional like Larry.]
Nope. [Sip. As for that...he lifts it up for the old man to see in all its cute Hello Kitty glory.] Pussy cat. A friend left it behind before she checked out of this dump.
[Freddy's good about hiding his mild disappointment that Mindy's gone. May as well check why she left him a key with good company.]
[Freddy won't mention how he doesn't know how she found his place either but he trusts that Mindy wouldn't have told anyone else where they live. He always knew there was something different about her.]
But we're gonna find out.
[Twirl and loop, key in hand the kid finishes off his beer then gives the older man a push to get on back out. Sorry Lawrence Dimick, no time for a drink for you.]
[Now he stares at the key. It looks simple, harmless. That's what people always want you to believe. Larry's not the hyper suspicious type nor is he a paranoid nutjob like Pink but...something seems off. Not harmful. Just off.]
Do you know where to go?
[Falling into step he isn't too sore about losing the opportunity to drink. The door prize is much more interesting.]
[He pats his own pocket, leading the way out to the street. When they're far out enough away from earshot, the kid nods to the old man.] You know the girl who found us?
[Last year, when they were bleeding to death, or at least Freddy was.]
[Freddy pulls the address out from his pocket. Under the address itself is the note telling him ("dumbass") not to get killed. He hands it over for Larry to read himself because maybe the last note is an ominous warning over what's inside. Who knows. Secretly he wants the last bit to be her way of saying "goodbye, cool dude" but no need to speculate. On the other side of the paper is a rough diagram Freddy drew himself, directions to the apartment.]
Maybe it's her stuff. [Girl stuff.] Maybe she wants me to move it somewhere safe.
They got services that do that. Though what good is it, she ain't gonna come back.
[He smooths out the paper, working out the folds to better read. The old man squints a bit and holds it up toward the light to see better. It's difficult to stifle the snicker at seeing "dumbass" but he does his very best.]
[...right? Though fuck there's a difference between freshly deceased Mr. Brown or...something. Cops. Rotting old flesh isn't pleasant at all. He gives Freddy a look though.]
It'd make sense that she'd want you to handle that. A cover up for a cover up.
Yeah I have but I got paid with or without losin' my lunch.
[Ain't that the life? Getting a paycheck from the city for doing the dirty job most people don't want to do. Doing some things crooks do too but that's beside the point.]
Fuck if I'm gonna clean up an empty place. I'm no fuckin' maid.
[Not that Freddy has a problem with maids or janitors or other service industry professions for that matter. Honestly. Give it another couple minutes and they'll be on the right block.]
[Or superpowered, fff. Close? Green eyes look over the area, it's not quite dilapidated but it still doesn't seem like a place for a little girl. What was Mindy up to over here? It also doesn't seem like a warehouse or lock up row either. It almost looks a bit mixed up with residential buildings, a low profile motel on one side and a "dance hall" on the other. Somewhere farther down, around a corner, is the place.]
Age before beauty. [Freddy gestures for Larry to keep going.]
[Elbows. But back to business for certain. Even though he's begrudging Freddy for not heading in first, Larry would prefer it. It's not a carjacking. Both of them are careful, sure. But accidents happen. And they don't deserve to happen to the damn kid this go-round.]
Thanks.
[These buildings creak and groan with almost every step on the wooden entry way. Even more on the steps.]
Looks like this is it.
[He takes the key out of his pocket. It looks even more out of place with that cat wearing a strawberry as a hat.]
[Oof. The elbowing just gets a look from the kid. Where accidents are concerned he'd rather they not abide by a system that places Larry--the more experienced one--in the line of fire but the old man is also stubborn and...Freddy has to admit he tends to know better. When Freddy's experience is of greater benefit, he expects the other one to stand down. For now though, it's Lawrence Dimick wielding the kitty key.]
No smell.
[Says the observant cop. Still sometimes a lack of odor doesn't mean shit. That's why Freddy's getting his gun out, Larry may be going in first but this tough guy's got his back.] Ready.
[Freddy manages not to roll his eyes over that veteran-to-rookieish comment. Larry's just being Larry and that's okay with him for now. Anyway gun out he slips around the doorway to press his back against the wall. Like a fucking professional, this cop.]
Get the--
[...light. The professional quickly drops away for one shocked Freddy Newendyke. Together the two sound their surprise in stereo.] Holy shit.
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