But I ain't no madman.

[whitetwoguns]

"Sorry I missed your call. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Have a nice day."

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[signatures]

Nothing to me directly - more-so occasional discussions concerning his views, really.

[ Eames swivels in the stool to face Larry, one leg folding casually over the other. ] What were you doing when you were not-even thirty, Mister White?

[whitetwoguns]

So he told you.

[He'll pretend for a moment that the reason why he's keeping forward is to use the ashtray.]

I was in a transitional period.

[Fresh out of jail.]

[signatures]

[ There are times Eames wishes he could pick smoking back up for sake of something to do with his hands - instead, he rubs together the index and thumb pads of his right hand, tipping his head. ]

I was in the military.

[ And yeah, Orange told him, but he doesn't have to say that for White to know. ]

[whitetwoguns]

Everybody's different. You got late starts, people that've been on their own since about day one.

[He shrugs even though he's the only one to supply any kind of an answer there.]

I guess that figuring where you stand is a life long process. Kinda don't stop.

[signatures]

I certainly don't disagree with that.

[ Torso twisted toward the bar, he takes another sip of his drink. ]

But self-discovery ought to be about the self. I find asking others to simply wait patiently somewhat unrealistic.

[whitetwoguns]

We're supposed to be [what's a publicly acceptable way to put it?] branching out together.

[Larry rubs his forehead holding the Chesterfield away to make use of the ashtray. Ah. There's his drink.]

Making a big fucking deal will turn him on inward like a snail.

[signatures]

So instead you're choosing to allow someone else to have sex with someone you love?

[ Eames eyes White over the rim of his drink. ]

You sure are bloody noble, Mister White. Do you know why he's decided on it?

[whitetwoguns]

Shut the fuck up.

[About love. About nobility. He heavily exhales his smoke before crushing the rest of his cigarette in the ash tray. That hand will now be devoted to his drink.]

He said he needed to figure shit out, that he don't want any sense of wondering to stop what we got ahead.

[Another drink. Simmering, simmering now.]

Something's got him doubting. I dunno what. I keep asking things, you know. He can tell me.

[signatures]

[ Eames flashes his teeth in a smile but continues nevertheless. ]

He's worried settling into a lifestyle he has never had before's going to change him into something you will no longer like.

[whitetwoguns]

[A swell of indignity almost spills out of his mouth. The old man's had relationships, long term and short term. Had he ever had this kind of grade of settling? Only with Alabama.]

He worries too fucking much.

[Something he'd no longer like. The old man doesn't dismiss this, sounds as though it is a thing that Freddy would be thinking on.]

We've been learning together so far.

[About this man, man thing working for the long run. There was a time when White hated to say two words to Mr. Eames. Funny how that works. He turns in his seat.]

Time changes things. We're talkin' right now. Fucking had nothing to do with it. Shit'll change on its own.

[signatures]

S'what I told him - that I found the open nature of it somewhat unnecessary when he was already so satisfied with you.

[ He props an elbow up on the bartop, resting his chin in his palm. ]

But he believes you don't enjoy the "learning together" part of it so much.

[whitetwoguns]

He says he's so satisfied.

[Both paws spread with nothing between them. If Freddy were so satisfied maybe this would not even be happening.]

Threesomes are great. I'm not one to deny that. I enjoy him.

[The bartender can make a good brew mix. He keeps on drinking.]

[signatures]

We were having an honesty moment. I don't think he'd have an issue telling me if there was something off about you, besides.

[ In the end, though, even Eames can't really figure out what Orange wants out of all of his promiscuity - just that White's the one being hit by it the hardest. ]

I suppose. But you only really like one of them.

[whitetwoguns]

Did he seek you out?

[Go on running to somebody to lean on. The old man went to the supermarket, he can't judge. Larry now props an elbow on the bar.]

I never said that shit could stop. I never put a stop on nothin'.

[Except for worrying over how much black cock the kid could take. Or refusing to be choked or choke or....He shakes his head.]

Fuck, man. I got the feeling that if I said no now, it'd be a swift stop up ahead. All that bottled up---whatever's gotta go somewhere.

[signatures]

He sought advice, yeah.

[ For a moment Eames is quiet, just listening to the old man, taking another sip of his drink. ]

Maybe you ought to tell him you're not the kind of bloke who can separate love and sex anymore, once you've had both.

[whitetwoguns]

We started out just fucking. I felt something. Kinda thought after that the tension would be cut, at the worst it'd be a one time thing and we'd go on with our lives.

[Why's he saying so damn much. Now Larry's regretting snuffing out his cigarette so soon. There he goes again getting ready to light up.]

It was all sorta out of order from the typical. I'm sure that didn't help none.

[That's putting so much on the line like that. It'd be worth a shot if Freddy is ready to hear it.]

Eames, I didn't know I'd be like that until it's right here like this in my damn face. Easy to brush it on off when it's an idea.

[signatures]

Sometimes feeling take awhile to catch up, certainly.

[ He errantly waves one of White's plumes of smoke away from him, though he doesn't recognize the brand. ]

You can certainly get him thinking of it by just admitting it. Orange's a new clementine at it, old man, I assume he's getting his pointers from you.

[whitetwoguns]

[How big of a pussy and a pushover would that make him to come on out like that? Freddy should know. The old man didn't think of it in those words until Eames laid it out on the bar with their drinks, napkins and subject matter.

Here, he waves off some of his own smokes.]

Sorry.

[This bar doesn't seem to mind. Others do. Funny old world and all it's changing.]

I dunno. I try not to spring big shit on him.

[Try. He tries to keep off of cocaine. It'd be kind of good right now. In the very least some weed.

In the back of his mind he is thinking of that older, colder Freddy Newendyke. Was that a ghost of other futures or just one where the old man died?]

[signatures]

It's all right, just trying to keep the habit off.

[ Doesn't help that whatever it is White is toting on like an angry dragon smells rather nice. ]

I don't think the stance you have on your relationship should be something you keep underwraps for sake of anxiety, Mister White.

[whitetwoguns]

Anyway I feel ain't gonna help him a lick figure out himself. I think that's the problem.

[Seriously, Eames? They're Chesterfield. A gentleman's refined cigarette! Lawrence Dimick's favorite. Somehow they mix well with the smell of Marlboros.]

I can't fucking chain him to the bed.

[It crossed his mind.]

[signatures]

[ They don't have Chesterfields in his land okay god. ]

I think the problem is that the both of you apparently are terrible about discussing your own feelings to one another.

[ He downs the rest of the soft drink, ordering something a little bit stiffer. ]

[whitetwoguns]

[Another head shake. The old man drinks down more of his boozy concoction.]

So you think spelling it all out's gonna do something good? I think that'll push him on into a corner.

[Fit him into a box. The kid cannot fucking stand a box. Looks like that is where he ended up.]

[signatures]

[ Eames shoots the other man a look that's between skeptical and bewildered. ]

I think spelling it out's going to ensure he knows what you want so nobody has to do any predictions. What he decides to do with the information afterward is his own perogative.

[whitetwoguns]

I'll tell him I don't want to share. I've already told him that I'm dealing with it the best I can since it's just been sprung.

[He'll tell him everything that he can. More booze. He's ordering another even though his has about a third left.]

...I don't want to lose him over this.

[It's muttered nearly into his mug.]

[signatures]

How much are you already losing by letting him dally away with half your piece? [ Eames catches on to the words because he's not old enough to have his hearing completely gone, anyway. Still, he keeps his own voice quiet rather than accusatory. ]