poly_chromatic

you shouldn't go alone. not now

[An idea is forming but... sigh. Hard times.]

somebodys got to be out there

come here to the casino

[A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.]

ill visit but im not stayin

okay. i understand. just come here.

[He's not gonna like it, but that'd make two of em.]

[Sure enough, White is waiting out by the curb. He wouldn't be outside if he felt that the kid was going to stop in. Shades on, no matter the time. Smoke rolls out of his mouth and the cherry of his cigarette flickers dimly at his hand. The way his jaw is set, and his stance it reads tension.

A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.]

You shouldn't be outside.

[Freddy calls from the patrol pick up as it rolls right on next to where Larry stands, passenger door to the curb because they drive on the right in these parts.]

It's not gonna be for long.

[One last inhale, a big one and he's got a grip on the passenger door handle. God or whoever, give him strength.]

Let me in.

[As though he is going to reveal something in the sanctity of the partner
s truck.]

Edited 2013-06-19 05:36 (UTC)

Okay.

[It's unlocked, Dimmy's free to climb in, in fact the kid thinks they're going to have a brief but serious conversation assuring each other of the fact they gotta do what they gotta do as long as they do it safe enough to come home at the end of the day. That's what this is about right? Right??]

[He sits heavily and takes a breath. In and then out. It isn't a squad car. It would be way more terrible then, right? Right? Larry rubs his palms on his knees and then reaches for the seat belt.]

Okay, cowboy. I'm going with you.

[For good measure he locks the doors.]

Let's roll.

What.

[Caramel green eyes widen up and stare at the old man. Look he's got his rifle leaning in the center, they've got their cage barricade separating the front from the back. Hey Larry's ridden there before hasn't he!]

[He has been in Ferg's souped up truck. It was brief. It wasn't with the intent of practically joy riding all the little long day. It has elements of a squad car. Not the smell. It smells vaguely of pig. Not that kind, but the weird skin walking pig.]

I am going with you, just...do your thing.

[Cop thing.]

You heard me.

[Don't make it harder than it is!]

[Thank god the truck's in park because right now his hands are flapping all over the place.]

I'm on patrol! You want to go on patrol? P-A-T-R-O-L. Like a cop.

Will you keep it down?

[Larry leans this way and then that. All clear.]

I know. Didn't you fucking hear me?

[Not shouting, just firm.]

Go patrol. We're patrolling. I'm not a cop. Just--

[Shrug.]

[Staring. Dumbfounded. Too bad he doesn't have sunglasses on to hide his disbelief.]

Did you know there's a sign up for ride alongs??

[And yet look at you, Newendyke, not bothering to throw him out of the car. Because the sign up for ride alongs is a mile long ONLY back home. It doesn't really exist in this world.]

No. I didn't know. Too late now. Sign me up later.

[After the fact he means, not for another. What if Ferguson is out another day? He'd rather not think it over that much. The police will take care of their own. Surely the kid would have another lined up. Or his partner will somehow come out on top.

Having never, ever had the desire to ride along back home, Larry is unaware of a wait listing or differential treatment.]

Are they gonna enforce a list in a time like now? You need somebody. I can watch, I can shoot... just another body. That's it.

[Oh look Officer Newendyke's leaning over and semi-getting into the old man's face, close enough to be firm but not angry or vicious or snapping.]

You're in my boat so I'm in charge. You don't get to piss on protocol until I say unzip.

[Note the difference between 'until' and 'unless', because Freddy knows in times like these (and places like this) there is no protocol. Secretly he's kind of flattered Larry would risk rutting it in a traveling pig pen for him.]

[Face to face. It's a different shade of Orange. He keeps his jaw set and gets the full effect of all the things that say cop up and at him. Hard-boiled, no bullshit.

If there was a time for horsing around, another thing might be pretty hard at this.]

I'm not calling you chief though.

[That's an okay.]

I'm no chief, I don't wanna be.

[Just 'officer' will do however since this is Larry he already trusts the old man to use 'sir', 'kid', and 'freddy' interchangeably as the situation sees fit. Vroom vroom, they're back into drive.]

Fine by me.

[He is a partner. Not that kind. Huh. Larry rubs his chin.]

Partner for today if anybody asks.

[Oh fuck. Here goes. Eyes to the road now, on the beat. Just like guarding turf, he tells himself.]

...

[There's a split second impulse to say he's not Freddy's partner, not like that, but the kid knows the old man doesn't mean to replace Ferguson or even imply he's better than him (not in terms of being a cop that is). They're from different worlds where words mean different things. Larry's Freddy's partner in all ways but this one. Lawrence Dimick wouldn't understand, the same way Freddy Newendyke can't ever be a real criminal ramblin' wanted man. At least not for long.]

Yeah. Okay. [Look the kid rides without a seat belt. It's a cop thing.] Don't touch the radio.

[The one for dispatch, not the one for music.]

[Two worlds running side by side and clashing on the streets. Never did the old man ever think it would be like this. Hell does get cold sometimes. Here is the living proof.

His eyebrow lifts up.]

Do I look like I was gonna touch the radio?

[The answer is no. These are the ground rules. He bristles anyway. Not now, Dimmy. Save all that retaliation for the apartment.]

56th

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