whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[Puff puff. Oh here have your cigarette back now, Dimmy.]

Yeah well that's my problem now. It's my side project as his Genius Friend.

[His bristles are coming back down, fortunately for you, Mr. White.]

[He's grateful. Wait though. You gotta keep your hand there kid so he can take a hold of it.]

Did he give you a due date?

[Because that would also add pressure. Paws kinda massage Freddy's hand for him, flex his fingers and he'll even crack his knuckles of allowed. The more chill, the better.]

[Oh that feels good...real good. Nice big paw working on those freckled flappy fingers.]

Nope. No due date...

[Even if these hands are rough? Larry's got half a mind to lean over to grab some lotion. Freddy's are rough too. Perfect that way if you ask the old man.]

There's still time for the genius noggin to do a little poking around. Some research.

[...maybe. Other hand now. His cigarette is sticking up from his lips.]

[Rough and firm like a man's hands of course he likes them that way though he wouldn't protest against lotion on those paws either. It's up to Larry really, it's the size and strength Freddy loves more. He lets him manipulate his hands however he wants.]

Yeah...you can talk to some of the girls at the casino. Get Arthur to feel'em out when you're on another job.

[Handsome old gent Lawrence Dimick and slick young gent Arthur...whatever his name is. Can't go wrong with those two, especially when they're dressed in their suits. What girl aching for some kind of male recognition can resist?]

[Puff out of his cigarette. He puts it in the ashtray then goes for the lotion. The exhale of smoke rolls out of his nostrils as he rubs the portion between his hands. Unscented, extra strength because it's winter time. Those now lotioned paws grab at Freddy's spreading it between their four hands.

It's an excuse to touch him.]

Sure. How many girls are you thinking? Ten? Twelve?

[Not too many, but enough to really turn heads.]

There are some nice ones. I'll try them first. We shouldn't deal with cunts if we don't have to.

Ten's good enough, five on each side, always put the best looking one in the middle. Symmetry or some shit.

[They teach you that in college for design, something Freddy never really connected to engineering until after he was already a drop out. He's still on his feet, standing in front of Larry, letting his paws rub his real nice and soft-like.]

Well they gotta be nice but they gotta put themselves out there too. Real showy stuff, stage fright's gonna be a disqualification.

Ten is a good number. Group shot for the beginning and end of the year in the calender.

[From palms up to forearm. It gets tense right there. Larry nods, listening to the instructions. Don't want to let the boss down.]

Friendly, crowd pleasing types. Got it.

[The mental list is being revised as he speaks. Maybe there'll be something for those ladies in the future but not now.]

Now you're talkin' some sense.

[Freddy praises with a smile. Not to say Larry was talking senseless earlier too...the kid was just sort of worked up on getting this worked out.]

Pretty sure they'll get paid. Nothin' real big at first but with all the attention it'll make up for itself.

I got enough of it to get by.

[A grin to prove it. Now done he reaches to pull the kid closer, maybe take a seat on the bed or on his lap.]

I'll call it a starter job, how about that? Nobody ever has that high of expectations. And we don't want no prima donna types who did something similar to think they're a pro.

[And call them out on every hint of bullshit there might be.]

[On his lap will do. It's a comfortable place. Oof.]

Fuckin' smart with that talking.

[Because if it were up to Freddy there's a high chance he'd outright call a prima donna on her own shit which is good for taking a lady down a peg but bad for a start up show.]

You think it's a good idea? Puttin' this whole thing together?

[For Freddy, the cop, doing things he never did in Los Angeles. Will he ever be a copper again?]

[Arms go around him, warm from the shower.]

Only if you want to do it. Don't go feeling like you have to, I know who you're dealing with.

[Tony Goddamn Stark. That's who. Larry lifts his head to look into Freddy's caramel apple green eyes as he tries to scope out any kind of lures he's trying to put on himself.]

I wanna do it.

[He wants to work with, help out, and impress Tony Shark--er, Tony Stark. Green eyes are looking back, slightly conflicted only because this wasn't how he envisioned working for Iron Man himself. Sure he does the mechanic work but this is more involved with the boss. None of it comes close to being a cop though. Freddy wonders if he looks silly, from undercover cop to part-time mechanic and cheerleader recruiter.]

Then we'll do it.

[Because he wants to.

Who's he going to look silly to? Larry honestly doesn't give a care. Not fussing over Blonde or Saya or any bullshit is fucking perfect.

Having never been a cop or had a true appreciation for them before Freddy, Larry doesn't know what he's going through. He hopes that his support is enough. One day the kid may want to join the police faction they have. Not today.]

Do I get one for free?

[Wat. He leans back to really really look at Larry, one eyebrow cocked up.] Excuse me?

[While the kid thinks the old man is joking it doesn't stop the cool potentially indignant tone that creeps up in his voice. Good call though, Dimmy, this does divert his attention from Blonde, from anything else that could threaten their happiness. But they're always running in the background, his guard is never truly going to come down as long as that maniac is out. With regards to the police force though, well, as long as Blonde's around he chooses not to be a cop. It was a choice he made when they arrived here, to live undercover. He regrets it only on occasion, like when Freddy realizes he went from being a Detective to a lady recruiter.]

I could use a calender.

[Coolly, as though he doesn't understand why there is any indignation at all in his voice. Paws are more handsy.]

Would you autograph it for me? Not everyday you get up close and personal with the guy who makes it all happen.

[That's you, Freddy. Blonde isn't going anywhere so they need to somehow carry on with their lives, be happy and undertake other things important and unimportant.]

Yeah, sure you can have one.

[He's still eyeballing Lawrence Dimick like he was so sure this man meant a free round with one of the auditioning ladies. A calendar though, sure, he can throw this bear that bone...honeycomb, salmon, whatever it is bears eat.]

If you remind me and ask real nice I could find some time for me to sign yours personally.

[A nod. Already acting like a bigshot because damn Larry is good at diffusing situations.]

[Larry knows better. It's enough that they get a third wheel in now and then. They haven't discussed the third being a woman before in seriousness. Pictures on the wall and now and then a movie with some tits in it are not the same thing as asking for pussy. That just don't seem right. Freddy would have to be in on it if it happened at all. The old man gets off on the memory of Freddy pantomiming how he'd work Pam Grier at the same time.]

I'd greatly appreciate that.

[Broad nose snuffles at his shoulder.]

[Won't ever know until you ask him, right Dimmy? Or is it up to Freddy to be the generous man and pitch the idea to Larry for him? It's something he's thought of before, purely for Larry's sake because any third wheel for the kid's enjoyment anymore by default comes with a cock he was born with. Having a woman would be to see how fast the old man shoots off his load.]

You're welcome.

[He bids Mr. White, smiling a bit smug. Hey, whatchu doin' bear? Freddy cocks a brow at all this snuffling, like he's suspicious someone's just doing whatever he can to get back into a fox's good graces. Not that it takes much or that Larry was in the bearhouse to begin with. The younger man sure as hell doesn't move away though.]

[Burgers fresh out of the kitchen really fill up the car. Doowop is turned down low on the radio.]

Man, I dunno about today but I'm starved.

[And it's late. Men like Dimick don't care too much about when and what he eats. The company is important. There's so much to say, and it's easier to do with the after taste of a good beef patty.]

[Talking with his mouth semi-full.] You been lighting up or somethin'?

[That's a joke for you, Larry Dimick, because if anything he only wishes he was invited. But that's okay if he wasn't, Freddy would understand, he was busy with the Human fucking Torch after all.]

Not without you.

[Elbow a little.]

Did some wandering around.

[Run ins, run outs. Sip, sip on his straw.]

So how was it?

[Because let's get him to focus on a few positives. It's shameful to have waited so long to get it out.]

Oh yeah? [He's moving with the nudging then sipping on his drink.] Run into anybody?

[Freddy sure did, some better than others, the lesser ones ironically being from the same damn place. He should tell Larry about it, he really should. But then he'd ruin a great date and the obvious proving into his encounter with the Human fucking Torch.]

Pretty hot. [Get it? He's trying not to beam.]

Always a fucking weird weekend.

[Nobody he knew very well. Chew, chew. All that paper they wrap the meal in crinkles.

He listens, knowing how the kid feels about that Human Torch fella. It pulls a smile on his face.]

I'm sure it was.

[To be expected. No third degree burns, no foul. It sort of feels like knowing Iron Man and Captain America were a dress rehearsal for this moment.]

I got'im a beer. [Okay his smile is getting bigger.] He was a little different, a face like Captain America with the completely wrong kind of attitude.

[But still Johnny Storm at heart. Freddy could tell.]

But I ain't no madman.

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