whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

Kinda [downplaying] kinda bugs me you know? Nothing's a walk in the park or simple but when everyday people act like that... seems like there's no difference.

[Seems. Here he is right now on their couch. He doesn't look like a killer. What killers do? Larry rubs his own forehead.]

How many guys you know that're like me?

[This is where a younger but still somewhat seasoned cop moves his hand to pat an old crook on his solid firm very well shaped jaw.]

Not too many cause you're one of a kind.

[Freddy gives a smile, soft and warmed up.] But guys who do what they gotta do cause they don't have a lot of choices? I've known guys like that since I was a kid.

[What makes Larry different--Freddy staunchly believes--is his ability to drop desperate measures when he ain't so desperate anymore.]

[A regular mold breaker. Breaker. In his old age he's come to be more conscious of things that should be treated like what they're worth. And it ain't all about a fine shirt or a gold watch. It's an insult to insinuate that Freddy should be treated like glass. He's not. He's a cop, a goddamn grown man. Flappy, rough hands on him pull a smile.]

How'd you deal with guys like that before, huh?

[Ears are wide open for what sounds like the closest he'll ever get to 'I think that is okay' where that's concerned.]

I don't know. Stuff? I ran fast enough when it wasn't lookin' good and I turned around to throw a couple punches when I stood a chance. I gotta do what I gotta do sometimes too you know.

[Then a nudge to the old man's tough broad side. He's still firm there than he was before.]

But when those kinds of guys are real mellow, real cool, got no worries in the world? They're not so bad. I kinda like a few of'em.

[Super cool, easy going son of a bitch. Larry shakes his head.]

Gimme your arm.

[For his massage and rotation. And an excuse to touch on him and do some good with these paws.

Say, he is staying more trim. Guess his appetite is on the smaller side. Huh. He can't complain. Freddy still has far more definition. It's apparent in his arms too.

Words like that roll on him like war water. He wouldn't be finding this kind of forgiveness or understanding with any other cop.]

[That's something Freddy knows very well too. He'll never be able to say any cop would do what he did, is doing. There are cops who would turn him in for putting his personal life in front of his professional one. It's one of those issues that's far more integral once they're back in LA. Being in the City...it's just not the case. Sometimes he worries how this will change him and make it harder to be home.]

Here.

[But he's going to give Larry his arm anyway, smaller yet well toned body turning in its seat to make the forthcoming massage more comfortable for both. Because Freddy's not facing him he knows he can say these things easily without having to meet eye to eye. Sometimes that's just intimidating.]

You've done some pretty shitty things but you're not like some other guys. It ain't all black and white and I'm not a fuckin' saint either.

[Right to work he goes. It's always careful at first remembering which spots are tender. From the bicep down. Sometimes he gets carried away and the man gets himself a whole body massage.]

I wanna stay not like the other guys.

[Ain't all about being clean and staying clean or not wailing on your old lady or man. Can he quit a life a crime? Lawrence Dimick would love to say he could close the book and start afresh but that's all a bunch of fairy tale bullshit. He's a life criminal. They can stay out of trouble in the City, trouble is pretty broad...and so is the law.

He scoots close to have Freddy up against him.]

If you were, you'd be my kinda saint.

[Oh that feels good...the kid starts to melt under those heavy hands and warm touches. Listen to the way his tone changes, a little smoother, a little more like a cat giving a low thick purr.]

Thought you weren't a spiritual kinda guy.

[Freddy quips, knowing exactly what Larry means but joking about it anyway because that's Orange's way.] I like you the way you are, man.

[The man don't like cats, he might not ever but he sure likes the purring quality to his voice. He's doing something right. Their harmony can be turned over temporarily with a curse or some slug problem and still he can touch on Freddy Newendyke.

Spiritual he says. Heh. Still working on his arm, bending carefully this way and that.]

I got bad times with the good times. That also got me thinking that you seen a fucking lot of the bad.

[And he is still right here. Larry places his mouth behind Freddy's ear.]

It reminds me I gotta keep on trucking.

[Walking the line. Not so clean, not so dirty.]

[It's when he puts his mouth to a spot behind his ear that Freddy leans back, shoulder once easily dislocated and arm easily broken if Larry ever wanted to do it. He could do it right now. Freddy's still leaning right here.]

I've seen a lot of fuckin' good too.

[Of Lawrence Dimick, of people in general. Maybe not three times or even twice that of the bad, but if it weren't for some amount of good in people Freddy Newendyke would not still be a cop. Hell he even wanted them to do right by Long Beach Mike.]

[Body to body, fuck is it ever perfect. All this time they spend together, sometimes the old man fears that he'll not only go to pot without this man near he'll be one hardened motherfucker.

Quit it. Why worry about that right now?]

Do you think sometimes that you've seen the bottom of the barrel?

[He carefully now alternates to the other arm. May as well keep on at it. It needs just as much care as the arm out of commission since it is picking up all the slack.]

Nope. I'm not gonna set myself up for disappointment. I've only seen everything when it's pretty fuckin' crazy.

[Because there's crazy good and there's crazy bad. Some cops have to scrape the bottom of the barrel, best not to hate what you do. The kid rolls his other shoulder now, some sort of reflexive gesture as those paws work him.]

What about you?

Sometimes I think I've seen about the most disgusting and dirty bullshit.

[Shoulders and neck now, one obviously has less pressure than the other.]

...then you shower.

[Heh. He had to get that one out. Larry chuckles then clears his throat.]

I thought about Blonde with other things today. Another ball game as far as he goes.

[And so far not a peep on out of him. Is it luck? Is it chance? Already not much of a prayer-filled man of God, he won't say blessing even though that sure is whatever keeps him on the level away from them.]

Hah hah hah.

[Have an elbow to those ribs, Mr. White, and there's less of a spare tire to soften the blow. Hah. Okay he doesn't jab Larry that hard but it's still prominent enough to make a point.]

Is that the bottom of the barrel for you?

[Mr. Blonde, he means. Freddy doesn't have the intention of probing the old man for his past experiences, the good, the bad, and the ugly, it just sort of comes out that way. Orange likes learning more about White and his life, the twenty some odd years he lived before Freddy was even born.]

[Ouch. That does hurt more than he thought it would. Unless Freddy has developed razor elbows in the past few seconds. He has checked before.]

Part of the collection, yeah.

[Not a fuck who goes and shoots his friends. Larry swallows. All things considered, he knows Joe has done worse things pushing the drugs he does, working with the people he does who aren't all Dimicks.]

I could have just killed him when he was on a rampage. I thought about it.

So did I.

[Freddy admits, leaning right back into Larry, fitting against him just perfectly. His admission puts him in the same league as Mr. White but for different reasons. Well, maybe not so different. How old was that black girl? He would have killed Blonde for being too dangerous to keep living with civilized people. Freddy would be no better for it, instead he stuck with his own mission. Larry knows how that turned out.]

I would have let you, covered for you.

[There's no telling how the rest of the crew would have carried on after. They all seemed just as surprised. Paws are no longer rubbing on him, just wrapped around to keep the fit so firm and perfect.

Fat lot of good talking about events that have passed and are only memories. Remembering is what keeps them alive. Pink isn't talking about them. And neither is Blonde, for him it hasn't even happened yet.]

We were meant to be in the same place, thinking on the same level.

[Did Larry really just...? Did he... Seriously...?

Freddy can't help but kind of smile at the whole fucking concept of a guy like Larry Dimick talking about fate.]

I guess so. Too bad I didn't bet money on it. [He reaches back to pat pat the old man on the thigh.]

[Fate. Destiny. Those aren't words he'd use heavily. There is no way of explaining how they fell together like they did. It wasn't easy, wasn't even that quick either. Sort of a matter of time and circumstance. He knew he liked this guy at the bar, how much and for how long there was no way to tell it'd be this much.

Elbows and pats, he's earned em all.]

You gotta deal with what you got right now, man.

[No extra dough besides whatever is remaining on Dimick.]

The job can support your arcade visits.

I don't drop that much at the arcades. Less than what you drop on pretty dancers.

[You think he doesn't notice the kinds of bills you slip them, Lawrence Dimick? fff.]

Do the machines gotta eat?

[Paws are on either thigh. Yeah. The kid sure would notice things like that. He isn't taken in by curves and tits, not like Mr. White. There are no curves under his hands as they move lazy like.]

Guys who run the place gotta eat.

[Come on now, just because a machine isn't a busty dancing wonder doesn't mean someone's not trying to pay the rent with it. In a world without any need for badges Freddy'd probably be that guy, running his own arcade...his own comic book store...his own collectibles gallery. In a perfect world where he'd meet up with his man after closing for the night every time.]

And if a machine doesn't get enough quarters they toss it out like it's junk and that's sad.

[Like machines are people too. Yep. He can feel those paws roaming but Freddy here has a point to make before reciprocating the attention.]

Sounds like you should spare some more on your machines. Ladies don't need it all.

[He noticed after all.]

Must be harder to make a dollar with all of those quarters.

[Freddy and his quickly made points. Coming home is the best option after all.]

Is it a new one or one you just found?

[Not too handsy so the kid can answer him.]

Heavy too, all that metal. Not every guy can handle it.

[Heavy metal, he means, and guys who happen to like heavy metal too as Larry might know first hand. Seeing as how they're sitting just so, Freddy shimmies and shifts to get even more comfortable against the bear of a man.]

One I just found, kinda small, real cozy. Not many kids either.

[Woah now. Getting close can give a guy a stiffy.]

Do they have any skeeball? Maybe air hockey?

[Games that the old man would like or know by name outside of Pacman. Paws massage the outside of Freddy's thighs.

Captain Planet is rearing his green mullet head nearby.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject