whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

That doesn't happen every day.

[He waves a hand harshly even though there's not Blonde (that) to point at. Freddy shakes his head, temper rising then falling. It's not Larry's fault, Larry just happens to be the closest living target.]

And how the fuck do you think we'll manage?

[Never being alone. It sounds impossible. More than that it sounds downright uncomfortable. The kid doesn't want to have to rearrange their lives for that motherfucker. He doesn't deserve that power. Ding! Their floor.]

[Walking off he tries to focus on the relief that they're almost there. Then they can really name names and give details. Except details to what? A plan? The old man is feeling severely lacking. He is supposed to have something up his sleeve.]

The fucking best we can.

[That's all that they have. He's digging for the key.]

[He's making a face that shows he's not really buying what the old man is saying. The fucking best we can? That's it? No. That's not it. But he waits, he waits and waits and waits until they've got the door open so he can push their way inside. Shut it. Lock it up. Be safe.]

Shit we don't even know if he has a game!

[Okay what's the point of waiting to be inside if you're just going to be irate and loud inside, Newendyke?]

[Shut. Locked. Deadbolted for that matter.]

If he does, I'd say it'd be to shake us up and get us all worked up and nutso.

[Wouldn't be too far off. Ahem. He's got the bags so he'll go to the kitchen to at least put them on the counter. And prep a drink. This calls for Jack Daniel's on the rocks.]

He woulda tried something.

[Ice and drink in two glasses.]

He had you right there, right?

[The kid wants to knock a fucking table over and break a window so he keeps his hands curled in tight fists, held close to his sides. Shit don't freak out, Newendyke, just be cool. Be cool like Mr. White. Turn around and sit down in the kitchen.]

...

[Fuck he knocks a side table over, taking the magazines and figures and whatever else was on it down to the floor. Nothing breaks, that's the good news. Then Freddy turns around to lumber back into the kitchen, right into a bear's arms whether they're open or not.]

He did, Larry. He had me right there.

[And he could have taken the kid out so easily. It could have gone so wrong so fast.]

[Arms are open and hands are empty because he abandoned the drinks in the kitchen at the noise. Way to cut right on through his cool head. Irrationally he thought someone else was in the house. Just the kid working out an encounter with a fucking psycho. Freddy doesn't even need to ask. Bigger, tanner arms hold onto him.]

What'd he do then? Nothin'. Not a goddamn thing.

[That cop he tied on up and cut off his ear. That wasn't even the start of it. He held him at gunpoint and threw him in a trunk. That cop was someone he didn't even know who didn't do nothing to him. Larry swallows. All these grim thoughts have to process.]

Not a goddamn thing, Larry. Not a goddamn thing...

[He huffs into that bigger broader shoulder, dry but needing his warmth, his presence. Lawrence Dimick is just one big fucking relief to Freddy Newendyke. He rubs his stately nose against him and wiry arms circle the old man tightly.]

[Broad Dimick snout noses his hair. Breathe, just fucking breathe. His heart was beating a mile a minute the whole way to the address Freddy gave. He didn't know what he was walking in to. They're alive. They're here.]

We gotta play the game if we wanna win.

[Keep on rolling with whatever stupid whimsy that Blonde is going to take on, buying candy for some chick at the local market. Fuck. Local. They may have to go to others. Pffft. Save that kind of over thinking for when they've cold down.]

Got you a drink, baby.

[When he's ready for it. Larry's not gonna let go first.]

Might calm your nerves.

[Give him something to focus on while the old man pulls out their stash.]

I know, man. [Freddy just wishes it didn't have to be this way.] I blew that son of a bitch away, Larry. He's fuckin' dead.

[Or he will be if Blonde tries to lay a hand on him or White. The way that bastard said his name...fuck if he thinks he can dick them around like that. Freddy'll shoot him full of lead all over again. As for the drink, well, the kid nods...at least three times before letting go. Fair warning, Lawrence Dimick, he's going to drain the glass in seconds.]

Thanks.

[Bottom's up.]

[Larry wishes that they could go back to playing like everything is fine with just the two of them alone. They got their own damn problems. What if something sparks while Blonde is on the scene? Worrying, worrying, enough of that shit.]

Hey, there's more where that came from if you wanna start on mine.

[Because it would seem that it's not going to just be booze to calm him down. Larry turns to the living room. The table is overturned still. That...will just be fixed later. The dope is stashed with the records. Perfect match most of the time. Back he comes with their little green bag.]

[Swallow. Swallow. Glass down.] I know.

[Another nod. His warming eyes follow Larry's path from kitchen to living room to records to--]

.....

[Really Lawrence Dimick? Really? Somehow that gesture of all things gets Freddy laughing. The kid never was one for poignant dynamic timing.]

[On the counter top. At first he's confused. Was it a bad idea? Laughing is good but is it too much? The old man's so quick to try and pacify the kid. It's easier to do when he ain't bleeding.]

Only 'cuz we don't got no ice cream.

[He smirks a bit at himself.]

Want a little one or a big ol' fat one?

[Because one way or the other it's gonna happen. Even if it may make it harder to get it up.]

[He's giving Larry a look that asks if he really even needs to ask. Seriously, Lawrence Dimick?]

A big old fat one.

[So they can share. Duh.] Pack it real tight.

[He's not trying to talk dirty, honest.]

The only way I know how.

[Innuendo or not. That's how you get the best out of it. He lays out the paper and then bunches the greenery. Shit, he's been doing it so long just another professional thing.]

Wanna put a movie on, baby?

[Or music. Something to have going so there's activity and other shit to think about, talk about. Seriously, Dimick. More running? That's what you do?]

I got more Jack Daniels. Plenty more where that came from.

[Two glasses. Overkill care, courtesy of the old man. Would Blonde have acted the way he did if he were there? They won't know. There'd be no knowing whatsoever at this point.

He rolls up their joint and licks the seam.]

Sure. Yeah...I'll put on a movie.

[He laughs again, softer this time, like he's trying to get something out of his system. What fucking use is it? Blonde's out and about but Blonde didn't kill him. What the hell does it really mean for their future? He knows Pink won't conspire against them without really really really good reason. The bitch Blonde's working for on the other hand...but Freddy's got Eames and he can trust Eames. Shit Newendyke don't let this motherfucker take over your fucking life. He pops in a movie without even truly thinking about it. It just seems right when they're hanging out together in a plush apartment with booze and bud.

Spoilers: it's gay porn.

Freddy comes on back to the kitchen and just waits for his roll while pouring some more JD.]

[Larry hears it before he knows what it is. Is this one of those with a vague plot? Not yet seeing the setting he's not sure. 'Can I take a look at that?' with some low grade audio equipment with a 'mmm that's pretty fine.'

Now who has the impulse to laugh.

He just shakes his head, smiling a little. Here, he'll burn off the end and take the first pull then it's offered to the kid. For a moment he doesn't say anything, breathing in the full flavor and strength.

Far better than a cigarette. If Freddy had been hurt, hell, even threatened they'd be doing something. Running. Retaliating. Look at where the fuck they are.]

Have I seen this one?

[After he finally breathes out. The smoke rolls and coils in the air. Outta anybody's face even though it smells pretty good.]

[Something about ex-girlfriends being bitches and maybe they should give 'the other side' a try. One guy's not too sure about it, the other one's doing all the seducing. Soon they'll be on their couch sixty-nineing. Freddy's seen this one before, he's not sure if Larry has though.]

Don't know.

[He shakes his head then takes a pull himself. Fucking calming shit that it is...he just doesn't know how else to wrap his head around the situation. A really fucked up situation.]

It's a series. [He clarifies. The scenes are related to each other by theme only. No high production value and true plot here.] It's alright.

[Shifting on his seat he takes a look this time. That guy who's not sure is going to be completely convinced very soon. Oh hey. They're sixty-nineing on the couch. For a moment the old man gets lost. His thoughts are already becoming pleasantly fuzzy at the edges.

Good.]

Maybe. I feel like I seen one of those guys before.

[Back in the day there weren't many stars in the business. There were some, but see, most of them had tits. All that faggot stuff back in the day they were men that popped up maybe once and you don't see too, too much.

He doesn't doubt Freddy's expertise for a second. These flicks are his thing. He's sort of become some sort of an aficionado.]

Series. Like they got a problem selling. Heh.

[Alright he says. Larry turns his head back to watch Freddy. Not like he'll vomit any second, just a watchful gaze of a man that loves him.]

Which fella's got the best goods?

[As he takes the bottle of JD for a sip, waiting for his turn with the blunt.]

No shit, really?

[Part of him thinks the old man's just kidding around which isn't a problem either. Another puff then he's handing the blunt back to Larry. The kid won't deny being some kind of aficionado, he likes what he likes and isn't ashamed to admit he used to jack off to this stuff. Still does when he doesn't have an old man around to help out.]

I don't know, they're both pretty good. Big dicks but you know that's how it always is in porn.

[Are they actually talking about dirty gay movies after a real encounter with Blonde? Yep.]

[Fuck yeah they're talking about gay skin flicks. Why? Because they fucking can. Larry takes a pull from their joint.]

You know--you know we're gonna be cool. Be fucking cool about this whole damn thing. We got weapons. We got money. We got connections. That guy is an idiot if he's gonna pull bullshit.

[Lunacy and idiocy are twins but they ain't identical. They can be lucky, they have been. A plume of smoke rolls out of his nostrils.]

Today was tough, but you pulled on through.

[Moaning in the background.]

[He goes for the Jack Daniels again but this time it's just for a sip. His lightly freckled cheeks are getting a little rosy.]

You're right man...I know. It just--fuckin' scared the shit outta me, I could've pissed my pants.

[But you didn't, Newendyke, you didn't shit a brick or bleed gallons of blood out of your stomach. He rubs at a sour apple green eye. Yep, there's lots of moaning in the background.]

[The old man licks his lips. He has the joint between two fingers making the air around them heavier.]

You didn't. You're fucking amazing, baby. I'm not gonna let nothing happen. Sure he's crazy, you know it. I do too. He'll be so fucking sorry. We got him. Not the other way around. There's two of us and one of him.

[All these words come out with not too much thought to them outside of Larry wanting so very bad for all of them to be true. Saying the words alone means he has to commit to them. High or not. Pat, pat, patting on his knee.]

You wanna go sit in my chair, huh? Take the bottle with you.

[Because he's gonna take the blunt.]

We got friends.

[He adds. Some friends in higher places than others. He has Captain fucking America on his side and if he has Cap then maybe he has Thor and Iron Man and the Black Widow too. Okay don't think so damn far ahead, Newendyke.]

Okay.

[Freddy nods, letting Larry take the lead, and the joint.]

Uh huh. We sure do.

[Eames and Arthur, that Cobb guy and the Eastern fella who is always around. He keeps the joint between his lips as though it were a cigarette and he makes sure that Freddy doesn't do any stumbling.]

Don't let it all work you up too much now.

[On the screen one of those guys are laying back on the couch while the other is drilling his mouth. Woah.]

[Looks real good, real tasty, from this side of the screen. However Freddy's only half paying attention to it. It's why he put it on in the first place, mindless entertainment as background noise without some story they think could actually take away from their problems. Bond, Indy, The Terminator, Robocop, they don't deserve that kind of dismissive treatment.]

I couldn't help it.

[Freddy admits like it's his fault all over again but he knows what Larry means. He just can't help feeling the way he does too. Oof. Right in the old man's chair. He gestures a trade of the JD for the joint.]

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