orangetoughguy | log post II

Beats me. [The profiler said a couple things about lizard lovers but not much Freddy can care to remember. That's why he works robbery and narc though, the lizard thing...that's the stuff serial killers are made of. Er, is Larry looking at him funny?]

What? I didn't tell'em to get rid of the evidence.

[That's a joke, honestly. He can remember clear as a bright sun shiney day in Beverly Hills how he got yelled at for trampling the crime scene. Even though really no crime occurred.]

[Is he a sick fuck for laughing? Because Larry's laughing. The shark bullshit that was unbelievable, this is a little up there too.]

You sure you don't have command lizards? One of your friends in the water mighta been listening.

[Is there a super hero that only talks to lizards? There's a thought. Though he knows for a fact that's not Freddy's super power. Oh no.]

[Somewhere down the waterways a gondola floats by carrying rather fancy looking patrons. He pays them no mind, why pay attention to anyone else when Freddy can lift a brow curiously at Larry.]

Do I look like a lizard guy to you?

[The answer should be 'no' because the kid far prefers warm blooded creatures...like dogs and bears.]

[This reminds the old man of the movies. Except usually the peace is disrupted by gunfire or some kind of explosion or car chase.

Or romance.]

Lemme take another look at you.

[One side, the other side. Nope. Just the stately slope of his nose, floppy hair.]

Nope. I guess not. Don't look like a fish man either.

They're okay. They don't do much if you talk to'em though. I like company.

[That's not...a subtle remark or anything. Honestly.]

Me too.

[His smile could easily be about the weather, the occasion, something like that to anyone else who doesn't know any better. That one is for you, kiddo.

Off the wall hypothetical talk is all part of the Freddy experience.]

[A little bit of time passing leads to said kiddo stretched out in the boat again, arms tired from rowing as their vessel just floats on by. He doesn't have a line out this time, letting the old man do all the fishing for them. There's some music playing too, not far but not right next to them either. They must be close to the Palace.]

You hear that?

Yeah I do.

[The sun is disappearing more and more behind the buildings. Some streets have more light than others but the lanterns are on. Rather nice with the purple hues seeping into the golden reds.]

What do you say we disembark awhile?

[Night fishing doesn't sound as enjoyable as taking advantage of the dark. The closer they drift, the more audible the music becomes.]

Sure. Where?

[He looks over at Larry, riding the same wavelength but not completely wanting to say it in the event they aren't riding the same wavelength and one is being more sentimental than the other.]

[Where indeed.]

There.

[He points to what almost looks like a dead end. The waterway street ends, the sidewalk continues beyond in a small alleyway. There's even a fire hydrant to anchor their vessel.

Larry turns their radio off so that the music can flow. Sounds pretty close.]

Okay. [He gets his oar back out to paddle their way towards the hydrant, slow and leisurely. Freddy loops the tube chain around it--did you think he was going to settle for an old fashioned rope? Boats are a hot commodity today, no way is he gonna risk it. It's like college kids who are advised to lock their bikes cause the cops aren't gonna waste their time looking for one that wasn't even locked down.]

After you.

[Freddy gestures, age before beauty again. He's trying to make out the song playing but doesn't recognize it just yet.]

[Not even Newendyke sort of cops? Harsh world. Larry remembers the day one of his bikes went missing. Well, missing as in purloined by the only person who knew the combination. That's how people lose things. You live and learn. And you carry firearms to protect what's yours.]

Thanks fella.

[Oh shit. Is that David Bowie? He's suggesting they put on their red shoes and dance the blues. Larry steps onto solid ground, then offers up his hand to Freddy.]

[Even a Newendyke. Come on when he was young one of the best ways to exert ownership over a bike was to never let it get stolen or to get it back. This seems to be one of the things they both agree on...juvenile street justice.

Anyway. The kid looks at that hand, follows it up along a wildcat to a firm arm and shoulder connected to a thick neck and a warm face. Freddy accepts, giving a pull to get out of the boat. It does sound like Bowie.]

Must be that party.

[Party is an understatement if those announcements for the Palace Ball were any indication.]

[Juvenile street justice is the only true justice. It's almost biblical in that eye for an eye sort of a way.

Looking down at those green eyes, freckled skin in contrast with the water he thinks to himself what a good looking son of a bitch this fucker is. And he's more than happy to lug him up on land.]

Sure does. Wonder where. [Because some people don't pay too much mind to the network when they don't have to.]

You wanna go?

[Only offering. Neither of them are dressed for any big hoe down. It's a polite offer. Larry steps back to lean against the wall, listening, tapping his toe.]

I ain't really dressed the part...

[Oh God was that just the most pathetic way of saying I'm too shy or what? Larry on the other hand appears like he could fit in at one of those fancy places. He walks the walk and talks the talk. Freddy however...okay look, his main concern is getting found out. May as well screw rationalizing it. He hasn't forgotten what day it is. Hands get tucked into his pockets. He may as well shuffle like a school boy.]

[Shrug.]

I'm not much either.

[Larry kicks a bit off of the wall.]

Wanna dance anyway?

[The water laps against the sidewalk, now and then spilling a bit over the pavement. That's about the only other sound than the music that keeps going. The bass line is like a heartbeat.]

[Why is the kid suddenly feeling a whole lot more kiddish? Don't let'em see you sweat, Newendyke. A dance is just a dance, you dance at home in your skivvies. You dance when the Stooges are blasting. It's just dancing.]

Right there? Right now?

[No not like the song. He points at the ground, face starting to feel a little warm.]

[The timing and setting seem alright. I mean, it's an alley. There's a can not that far away. It's not very Venetian, but looks like the need for caffeine knows no setting. Maybe it would have been better if he asked at home. The mood didn't strike him so much as it does right now.]

Sure.

[Please say yes.]

[Oh God oh God oh God oh God...stay cool, Newendyke. Bitch be cool.]

...Okay.

[His hands come out of his pockets but Freddy doesn't have the slightest idea what to do with them.]

[For a few short seconds he thought that Freddy would refuse. Which wouldn't be awful...there were plenty of hopes he wouldn't though.

Larry cracks a smile and takes a hold of his fingertips for a second to shake them.]

Loosen up for fuck's sake.

[A little step, a little sway. That's how they do it. The old man takes something of the lead. It's more like dancing near one another rather than with for starters. Maybe that'd make it less of a big deal.]

[He laughs at the smile Larry's cracking but it's still a somewhat anxious laugh. Freddy can't help feeling a little strange about this, about dancing together near one another whatever, out in public, under dusk, to music, on a day like today. This is the stuff teenagers dream of and the old man has done an excellent job of putting the kid back in that place.]

You know I'm white right? I mean I listen to the music but I don't move the same.

[That's Freddy's attempt at a poor joke with some truth embedded in it. He's moving around with the barest minimum of stepping for now, but he's moving.]

[No teenagers here. This could happen any place. Casual, simple. A dance is only a dance. On a day like today. With company like this though, can you blame a man for going more sentimental than usual?]

I know exactly how you can move. Don't gimme that.

[Larry has a courtesy laugh for the joke. No shit that Newendyke is as white as they come even with his nigger street rap music shit blasting.

If you say run, I'll run to you...]

Not your kinda song?

[As though they can take requests from where they are. Larry keeps on moving in his way.]

It ain't that, I don't move all too good. [Freddy explains. He's got nothing against Bowie, at all. Especially when he's growling his words looking at you with those strange eyes. Ahem.] I'm kinda surprised you know it.

[Aaaaand there we go. A smile. The scrappy blonde guy gives the dark haired old gun a smile.]

[Have an audible scoffing.]

Bullshit. [After waking up to the rumbling stereo several mornings (against his will) in succession he knows for a fact that Freddy can move pretty well.]

Thought you like surprises.

[It's enough to brighten up the street that has gone pretty dark with the sunset. He'll relax in due time if he keeps on grinning like that.]

[Hey now dancing as an audience member is totally different from performing as a rockstar. Freddy can absolutely do a rendition of Tom Sawyer in their own kitchen but put him in front of Geddy Lee at the boards and well...since when was waving your hands and banging your head considered dancing anyway? Come on.]

I do.

[His smile broadens. They may be outside of the Palace borders but knowing how the song goes the kid grinds his hips in time with the guitar riff he knows by heart.]

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