whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[Must be all that Milwaukee blood coursing through his veins. Another nudge to that slightly tauter side.]

Yeah? Sounds like you've been holding out on me. [What have you got up your sleeve, Mr. White. Now the kid really wants to know.]

[That and a big bigger except...might be his imagination but there is a bit more of a chill in the air.]

Holding out? Nah. I was waiting to see what was around. People got a price.

[He does too. Except he's still got that pinky ring. That is something that stays.]

Not so many things, in case we gotta pack up.

[Skip the City at last except there is a we there. We used to be a word they would ghost around. It stood there, cold and quiet and was something that the old man wanted to believe in. Now it's real.]

[See this flappy hand kind of move and gesture around.] Yeah? And?

[You're dragging him along, Lawrence Dimick, you know you are.]

So you wanna see what we got, is that what you're saying?

[Shucks he's not trying to string you along, Freddy. Here, he'll grab both flappy damp hands.]

All of it's at our place.

[And if destiny is kind, he's got two smokes preserved. Maybe. Hopefully.]

Uh huh. I do. [Flappy hands stop flapping by virtue of being held in those paws.] All of it?

[What are you waiting for, Larry Dimick? Take this kid along on your very own magic carpet ride. To tell the truth though, Freddy's expecting something small, small enough to hide while he's around. Sneaky Dimmy.]

[They flap so much they can't be contained. Alright, he'll let them go.]

C'mon. You'll make your own assessment.

[Nudge in the right direction. He privately admires how wet clothes fit on that wiry frame. While he is pleased with the response there's a degree of disappointment. Maybe even shame. They're excited about things they would normally have. Or at least Dimick is happy to have them, he hopes that Freddy will too.]

[Maybe it's the weather or their dire situation but he can't help smiling at Larry. He's ready to mosey on back to their quarters. On the way Freddy squishes a slug.]

Aw shit, man.

[Look at this sticky mess. Give him a moment to rub his boot on a wet surface before they're off again.]

[Smile on back, it's contagious like a yawn.]

Damn. Watch it will you?

[Woah. Wait. What?]

I didn't know they got slugs in the desert.

[And as he is making his way around that mess he steps on half of one the rest of it squishes out from under his foot.]

Are you fucking kidding? Yuck.

[Blugh. It even makes a weird squelching sound. Blugh. But enough of that. Now it's Freddy's turn to take hold of a paw and pull Larry along back to their place. He doesn't give a crap who sees him--them--like this, leading the old man like an overzealous partner.]

Come on.

[He'd follow anywhere. Through rain, through slugs, through bullets. There's something about them together in the rain.]

Not so fast or else we're gonna slip.

[On slugs he means. For real they don't have that far to go. The walled slum of a City isn't too fucking big and for that matter, they didn't go too far in the rain.]

I thought you said you wanted to walk and spend sometime with me.

[As though they are changing plans completely.]

I do. [They can spend time in his room, just like a teenager pulling a boy in while the parents are out.] But we got all day.

[Another smile and up they go a flight of stairs that veer to one side. It's just another one of those little details shaving fractions of inches from the waistline.]

[There are plenty of stairs to climb one day to the next. No elevator option at all.]

As long as we actually spend time together.

[Like there is any doubt. Heh. Say, look how far up the stairs he has gone without panting or breaking into a sweat. Rainwater keeps him cool, that could be why. There they are at the door. There won't be a Colossus inside, or diamonds or anything expensive.

Sigh.]

Well.

[Since the kid is first, he can go on in first.]

[He notes the way Larry's waiting and gets the door himself. Open sesame! What's in there besides a toucan enjoying the coolness by the window? Yeah, somebody left it open. Who's gonna argue with Sam? The way the outer wall is set up it's possible to keep it open without letting rain in anyway. Guess who also kept the room slug free.]

What's that.

[Freddy asks though, focusing on the new addition to their quarters. Duh he knows what it is. It's just a lot bigger than he expected.]

It's a bed. You know. For us to sleep on.

[Among other things. That is far more obvious. Larry steps in and he again feels compelled to remove his shirt. It'll need to air dry. Oh here. The beers are pulled from the sink. Wouldn't you know it that it's only Budweiser? A hot commodity when there's about nothing else around.]

So.

[Beer first. There could be so much more to go with this. He can tell by the phrasing of that question.]

[Awk. Sam swoops over to perch on Freddy's shoulder, saying hello. The kid returns the greeting with a finger rub to the toucan's chest. Dimmy's right though, he's got more questions that go beyond addressing how he got it to fit through the doorway. Beers. Okay. Beers. Freddy accepts one.]

How'd you get it?

I traded a few things.

[Down he goes to sit on his prize. Craaack goes the can. Saliva wells in his mouth anticipating the taste. It has too long they say. Bronw eyes focus on the kid and his bird.]

My things.

[A watch he won't be needing anymore. That kind of shit.]

Stuff you could've kept, Larry.

[They're only talking in the safety of their own room, four walls. If anything's tapped they're fucked. Well, not quite, who the fuck would think knowing Lawrence Dimick's name here would threaten the old man? Sam flap flap flaps away to sit with Larry know. E-ee-e-e-ee-e. He wants to peck at the can.]

Is it your back? Is it bad?

[There's a shrug for that. Sure he could have but then what? Keep sleeping on the cot? No.

He takes a sip.]

The cot did a number on me the first few nights but this'll be much better.

[Sam, too bad you can't help a brother out. Dimick would turn to you to try and change up the nature of the conversation. Looks like he'll have to do that himself. Thick fingers rub the down of his tummy.]

Freddy, we deserve more than a damn cot.

[After all they been through.]

[Oh that feels nice. Toucan purring rumbles from his fluffy throat. Too bad Freddy's become so accustomed to Sam stuff like that does distract him anymore. He hasn't popped his own beer open yet, still on his feet, still clothed.]

You deserved to have the other stuff too.

[It doesn't occur to Orange just yet that maybe Larry also fleeced whoever took his stuff for a whole fucking bed. What if it was the old man who made out with the better end of the deal?]

I got you. C'mon now. What more do I need?

[Guns? Nope. They got those.

Fleeced? That's not the whole story. If someone is willing to give up their bed for chump change, that's their problem.

Larry takes another sip of his beer before setting it down. He toes off his shoes.]

I know if we don't wanna keep it someone will want it.

[He says carefully, hoping that the option will be keep.]

........

[Ugh, Lawrence Dimick, of course you'd roll all over the damn thing. Show Freddy Newendyke how much you like it, how nice it would be to keep it while still presenting the kid with the option of trading it off. Ugh. Sam flaps away to duck over the window sill again. Hop hop and out. The bird's gonna bathe in the rain now that both men are present to guard the nest.]

You didn't have to.

[He repeats, moving to sit with Larry now. Crack. There goes the beer, popped open for a sip.] You think we're gonna be here for that long?

I wanted to.

[And Lawrence Dimick does what he wants. For better or worse. This time for the better, for the both of them. He breaks away his looking for details to watch Sam flutter on before slowly coming back.]

....I really don't know. It all happened so damn quick.

[Business as usual and then right here, right like this. Larry snaps his fingers to demonstrate.]

It's been too long to be a curse, and usually shit changes up after just a few days.

[There we go, kid. Sit down. Enjoy a beer with your old man. That's exactly what this is for.]

[And Mr. White, Lawrence "Two Guns" Dimick, does what he wants. Freddy works his shoes off so he can bring his damp feet up on the dry bed. It really is comfortable. Sure it's nothing like the majesty they'd kept in the apartment but it's better than a cot. Would it have been like this if they'd made a run for the border?]

Yeah, I was thinkin' the same fuckin' thing.

[Is this going to be where they fall asleep together for the next year? Sure they've got immigration going but they come from a world where sometimes immigration talk is just smokescreen and no one gets to leave at all. They come from a world where internment camps were standing when Dimmy here was born. Sip.]

D'you think we got soft?

[This is it's own sort of internment camp. It was nicer before. Now that they've done away with the varnish they are prisoners. He's gotta stop thinking like that or else it won't be such a pleasant rainy day.]

....you and I?

[Soft? Huff. The old man has to think on that one.]

Like not ready for action? Too damn simple like?

[In ways that makes a man yearn stronger for adventure and thrill of being a cop? No lie. It has crossed his mind frequently.]

Like that, yeah, I guess.

[He nods. There's not much conviction behind his own answer because Freddy's not sure himself and part of him worries he's bringing up the wrong subject at the wrong time. He's taken the day off, it's nice and cool from the rain, and this man just brought them a bed. Sip.]

Nothing's wrong with simple but nobody saw this coming.

[In a matter of a year and a half they managed to build completely brand new lives with all the comforts they would've loved in Los Angeles. All his toys and comics and records, gone. But losing that's still more preferable than losing Larry.]

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