orangetoughguy | log post II

Would it be a bigger scandal if she was bartending there?

[Freddy asks in a joking manner while popping another piece of shrimp. Oh it tastes pretty good to this kid and that's another reason why the pain in his side is so excruciating. He can't even partake in this delicious meal with his delicious company in relative piece. Nevertheless Freddy washes it down casually with another swig of beer.]

It's fine, tastes pretty good. Here.

[Scoop scoop scoop, Freddy cuts a small portion from his own plate to scrape onto Larry's. Clever, yes?]

[This joker here.]

You ask like you didn't know!

[Larry shakes his head. This feels easier now. Maybe he was lost in his thoughts. It happens. After all, Freddy's got all those super heroes on the mind. Nothin' doin'.]

I thought a few times of warnin' her but that's putting myself at risk. She's gotta know herself.

[Call it his tendency to be a white knight. The kid should know that it's got nothing to do with attraction.]

I didn't even tell Lucky. Better not put him in any line of fire either.

[Oh hay. Shrimp. Larry takes a bite.]

Edited 2011-05-17 02:30 (UTC)

The less you know the less you gotta hassle.

[And hustle if shit hits the fan. Understandable. And he sure as hell does know the old man has a tendency to white knight. It's just the way Lawrence Dimick is. One wonders if someone already knew it when they passed out names or if it was just a coincidence. Freddy smiles, the conversation helps take his mind off the pain, enough that he decides to go in for a piece of crab. Crack crack, that's the sound of shell snapping.]

I got a new guy at work. You know'im.

Bingo.

[The old man points with his fork before piercing another bit of meat.]

Oh yeah? I thought it was you an' Miss Saya.

[Chew chew.]

It is. She picked up a new guy, the same one in your train crash taxi cab shoot out.

[Not that he stalks your network activity or anything, Larry.]

That guy? He doesn't strike me as the type who'd know his way around car parts.

[Then again. The old man shrugs to sip again at his beer.]

What do you make of him?

[Because he honestly wants to know. That was some fancy shooting.]

He's hidin' somethin'. [This he figures is even more telling to Larry than it is to Freddy because Larry's got the career in crime.] He doesn't know his way around car parts but he picks it up pretty fast.

[In other words Freddy's given him a lesson or two in mechanical feats beyond basic maintenance. Learning just how quickly Eames himself learns is another eye opener. It just as well means the guy can put a gun together and dismantle it before the feds even realize that junk littered around the floor used to be a rail gun.]

I caught that much. That was a pretty fucking heavy duty shoot out.

[Since they're at an establishment and they can't throw around that much aggression or questioning, the old man leans forward.]

You don't get any funny feelings about him, do you?

[The last thing they need is outside static.]

Cuz you know. [That the old man would pounce. That goes without saying.] Doesn't seem like a brute though. [Then again Blonde didn't put off no alarms. Look at him.]

[Freddy shakes his head.]

Naw, I'm not gettin' that from'im. [But well, Blonde. How could one man become such a game changer? On the other hand the same could be said of Lawrence Dimick and Freddy Newendyke for each other. Ugh, that pain in his side hits a little sharper than expected.] Hey I gotta--[Think fast, Newendyke.]--piss. I'll be back.

[He doesn't give the old man any signal to follow either. How about that.]

Your eagle eyes'll be on him so he better behave himself.

[Not as a cop. This isn't even about the law in Larry's eyes, it's survival.]

Okay.

[No following signal? Grown man needs his privacy. Okay. Larry can deal with a little disappointment. Besides, a piss is a piss. Won't take long.

Or maybe he forgot.]

[Freddy's got the right mind to tell Larry one time Eames touched him in a bad place and somehow that led to a messy rough romp in the bathroom but the pain in his side cuts through his sense of humor. In the mens room he picks the farthest stall at the end to reassess his pain level. It feels like his scar wants to open up and start bleeding all over again but when he looks under his shirt everything is right as freckled rain. He'd heard about this going on from others, he didn't take it seriously until it started happening to him.]

Fuck...

[Yeah, that's to himself. Freddy digs through his pockets for the small amount of painkillers he managed to procure. Don't ask how, he just managed. He was a cop after all, an undercover one too.]

[Talk like that wold get the old man's juices flowing in a big way. Thems are fighting words. Larry finishes off his beer. Ah, what the hell. May as well see how the kid is doing. He's up off of the table, grabbing the waiter for a refill on the way to show that they're still enjoying the eats. Into the mens room he goes. What the? Not even using the urinal.]

[Freddy's unaware that the old bear's come sniffin' around. He's too busy still trying to decide if he'll pop a pill or not. Too bad for him when he decides to do it he drops the pill right into the bowl.]

Shit man! [The kid hisses, irritated. At least he didn't lose the other four. Yeah he's got only five. Look he doesn't want to get hooked okay?]

[There we go. That voice he'd recognize anywhere. Larry goes straight to the stall and knocks.]

What's the trouble?

[Larry's voice and the knock make him jump out of his fucking skin. Calm down, Newendyke, just calm down. He pockets the rest of the pills before he can even take one.]

I'm okay.

[No you're not. Don't lie. Don't lie so shortly after his birthday. Don't lie to your friend. A friend who's kind of more than that.]

I don't feel good. [So not good Freddy hasn't thought to unlock the door yet.]

[The stall clatters as he attempts to open the door.]

Open the door.

Leaning in such a way he can peek into the stall. It doesn't look like he's sitting on the pot.]

Was it something you ate?

[Oh yeah. He slides the latch to open the thing, preferring to bring Larry in than to step out himself. Doesn't sound like anyone else is there right?]

No. I got some kinda pain here, where I got shot. Feels like a fuckin' sidestitch.

[Freddy gestures for the old man to the spot even though he knows Larry knows exactly where the bullet scar is. The pill still sits at the bottom of the bowl.]

[As far as the old man knows. They're on their own. In he goes and for good measure he locks the door. The minute he says something about the old wound Larry is lifting up his shirt to see the area for himself.]

Looks normal.

[Rough fingertips move over the scar very lightly. Since they're near the toilet all it takes is a glance down.]

That don't make no sense.

[It's a closed wound. It's gonna be a year in the summer...along with everyone else.]

What the fuck is that?

[Though he knows a pill when he sees it.]

[Freddy doesn't protest this shirt-lifting even when it's not being done in a way that's become kind of familiar to him. No arousal in sight.]

I know, but it--it fuckin' hurts.

[Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit he sees it.] I figured takin' a painkiller'd do it in.

[Could you sound anymore pathetic, Newendyke?]

[It doesn't look like it is sensitive to the touch. He doesn't risk it though. Larry puts his shirt back down.]

You takin' pills?

[Brown eyes look into his face one than the other. Is he medicated already? What exactly is that? Is the kid getting something off of the street? Woah, woah. Mr. White shuts his eyes a second to rub the bridge of his nose. Let's not get too hasty. Freddy isn't stupid. It's easy to tell himself to lay off of that except the kid hadn't mentioned this at all.]

How long?

No. [Okay that sounds way too accused. Calm down, Newendyke.] No. I just got'em. I ain't had any.

[After finding Larry's stash, the awful outcome that came from it, and once finding him in a coke laden daze, Freddy knows far better than to get caught in a trap. Could he have taken it and told him in the same night had White not followed him into the bathroom though? Who knows now.]

[That's a relief. Kind of. Hands go to his hips as he assesses the pill at the bottom of the water and the man standing beside him.]

When did you go to the hospital?

[Without him. Without telling him. Meaning that it's been more than a few days.]

When were you going to tell me?

I didn't. I know a guy who knows a guy and he did me a favor.

[Even as he says it the kid's already kind of hunching over and trying to turn in on himself, not just from the pain either. Oh, here. He reaches into his pocket to hand the pills over to Larry.] I was gonna tell you if it got bad. I just wanted to truck on, it wasn't this bad before Larry.

[Because he didn't want to mess up the afterglow of the flowers or the chair. Of course last week it wasn't this bad.

Bad enough for you to use something for it.

[Nostrils flare in anger something like a bull. He's gotta keep his cool. It's not gonna make Freddy feel better. The anger is apparent on his face. He takes a look at the pills in his hand. Sure enough looks pretty standard shit. Pharmacy imprints and all. This isn't any homemade street shit.]

So how bad is it? Huh?

[Let him keep his damn pills.]

I'm not usin'.

[Freddy fires back with more frustration than anger. He didn't take it and he's not gonna, not right now, and maybe not ever. He pockets the bottle though because he's not gonna do something dramatic like flush it all down the toilet either. When it's legit it's legit. Why he hasn't gone to the hospital for it isn't just because he might not qualify, what with other people experiencing the same phantom pains, it's also because that guy works there. Best to avoid the whole place whenever possible.]

Don't blow a fuckin' fuse on me.

[Is that the sound of a wounded Newendyke? Maybe. But he's still able to keep standing on his own two feet. He won't lean on a stall wall now, especially with Larry looking at him like that. Freddy'll go for a cigarette now.] It got real bad this morning, it's a pain to eat.

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