Drabblet: Snackfood is Love Take Two (O11)
Title: Life, or Something (take two)
Wordcount: 630
Prompt: from musesfool's Snackfood is Love challenge: Jolly Ranchers
A/N: Unbeta'd. Any and all concrit exceedingly welcome.
Halloween always reminded him of Rusty. It didn't help that at just 6:30, Tess got a headache and went to bed, leaving him alone. Danny sat watching SciFi on mute with a beer, thinking about quick hands and oral fixations. It was a relief when the doorbell finally rang.
"Trick or treat, Mr. Ocean." Rusty, unbelievably. Gone for over a year, now leaning against the doorway like it's the only thing keeping him up and smelling like he'd been living out of his car.
"The fuck are you doing here?" Danny leaned against the door, mirroring him, forgetting entirely the plastic pumpkin of candy in his hand.
"On this day of days, when the dead walk the earth and Lucifer does a roaring trade in souls, I find myself without a roof to sleep under." He was getting verbose -- Danny felt better knowing he wasn't the only one more than slightly drunk. Slight tells could be ignored when both were drunk.
"A hurricane take it off?"
Rusty just looked at him, eyes flat. He never hid when they were on a con, he always just lied. Danny prefered the lies. "She kicked me out."
"Sneak back in. What kind of thief are you?"
"And by 'she kicked me out,' I mean that she changed the lock, donated everything to the Red Cross, sold the house, and moved to Beijing while I was doing recon work in Alberta."
"Nothing good comes from Canada." Danny stepped back and gestured for him to come in, by habit checking the street. Not even kids in costume were out. Did no one in this neighborhood have kids?
"Isn't Tess's father from Quebec?" Rusty called on his way to the kitchen.
"Shh, you'll wake the baby." He sat back on the sofa and fumbled for the remote as Rusty came back empty-handed, looking mildly stunned.
"The baby's born?"
"The baby possesses remarkable sensitivity to drunken thieves, for a child still in the womb. And he tends to wake up his mother when he senses any kind of disturbance." Danny gave up and turned off the TV manually, then discovering the bucket of candy still in his hand. "So unless you want the Wrath of Tess upon your head, keep it down. Jolly Rancher?"
Rusty blinked. The "Excuse me?" went unsaid, but heard.
"Jolly Rancher. Small, hard, fruity candy. Would you like one?"
"You're a disgrace." He shook his head and fell on the sofa beside Danny.
"What? It's Halloween! Any kids come by, gotta have something."
"Yeah, like Twix or Tootsie Pops or something with texture. Who wants a piece of warm, flavored ice?" He shook his head again.
"You want one or not, homeless guy?"
"Of course I do. Any donation to the plight of the homeless is very much appreciated." He took one and immediately crunched it into oblivion. The second, he sucked on. He threw the wrappers at the trashcan and missed.
"So what was in Canada?" Danny played with a piece of candy, palming and passing it.
"Shannon and a lot of alcohol."
He knew Rusty couldn't stay happy with the cop. Too restless. But Shannon, that was a blow. Danny'd thought she was long gone. "Recon work, eh?"
"Recon work."
"You're getting stupid."
"You always were the brains."
"Flattery gets you everywhere." He smiled at Rusty, that shit-eating grin that he associated with cons and planning and blowjobs in public bathrooms.
"You got something?" The flat, dead eyes vanished as Rusty sat up straighter.
Danny handed him a beer and the basic specs that he'd been carrying in his wallet. "How do you feel about the Carribbean?"
A brief scan of the paper made Rusty's face light up in delight. He tapped his bottle against Danny's. "Cheers, Danny."
"Ole."
Wordcount: 630
Prompt: from musesfool's Snackfood is Love challenge: Jolly Ranchers
A/N: Unbeta'd. Any and all concrit exceedingly welcome.
Halloween always reminded him of Rusty. It didn't help that at just 6:30, Tess got a headache and went to bed, leaving him alone. Danny sat watching SciFi on mute with a beer, thinking about quick hands and oral fixations. It was a relief when the doorbell finally rang.
"Trick or treat, Mr. Ocean." Rusty, unbelievably. Gone for over a year, now leaning against the doorway like it's the only thing keeping him up and smelling like he'd been living out of his car.
"The fuck are you doing here?" Danny leaned against the door, mirroring him, forgetting entirely the plastic pumpkin of candy in his hand.
"On this day of days, when the dead walk the earth and Lucifer does a roaring trade in souls, I find myself without a roof to sleep under." He was getting verbose -- Danny felt better knowing he wasn't the only one more than slightly drunk. Slight tells could be ignored when both were drunk.
"A hurricane take it off?"
Rusty just looked at him, eyes flat. He never hid when they were on a con, he always just lied. Danny prefered the lies. "She kicked me out."
"Sneak back in. What kind of thief are you?"
"And by 'she kicked me out,' I mean that she changed the lock, donated everything to the Red Cross, sold the house, and moved to Beijing while I was doing recon work in Alberta."
"Nothing good comes from Canada." Danny stepped back and gestured for him to come in, by habit checking the street. Not even kids in costume were out. Did no one in this neighborhood have kids?
"Isn't Tess's father from Quebec?" Rusty called on his way to the kitchen.
"Shh, you'll wake the baby." He sat back on the sofa and fumbled for the remote as Rusty came back empty-handed, looking mildly stunned.
"The baby's born?"
"The baby possesses remarkable sensitivity to drunken thieves, for a child still in the womb. And he tends to wake up his mother when he senses any kind of disturbance." Danny gave up and turned off the TV manually, then discovering the bucket of candy still in his hand. "So unless you want the Wrath of Tess upon your head, keep it down. Jolly Rancher?"
Rusty blinked. The "Excuse me?" went unsaid, but heard.
"Jolly Rancher. Small, hard, fruity candy. Would you like one?"
"You're a disgrace." He shook his head and fell on the sofa beside Danny.
"What? It's Halloween! Any kids come by, gotta have something."
"Yeah, like Twix or Tootsie Pops or something with texture. Who wants a piece of warm, flavored ice?" He shook his head again.
"You want one or not, homeless guy?"
"Of course I do. Any donation to the plight of the homeless is very much appreciated." He took one and immediately crunched it into oblivion. The second, he sucked on. He threw the wrappers at the trashcan and missed.
"So what was in Canada?" Danny played with a piece of candy, palming and passing it.
"Shannon and a lot of alcohol."
He knew Rusty couldn't stay happy with the cop. Too restless. But Shannon, that was a blow. Danny'd thought she was long gone. "Recon work, eh?"
"Recon work."
"You're getting stupid."
"You always were the brains."
"Flattery gets you everywhere." He smiled at Rusty, that shit-eating grin that he associated with cons and planning and blowjobs in public bathrooms.
"You got something?" The flat, dead eyes vanished as Rusty sat up straighter.
Danny handed him a beer and the basic specs that he'd been carrying in his wallet. "How do you feel about the Carribbean?"
A brief scan of the paper made Rusty's face light up in delight. He tapped his bottle against Danny's. "Cheers, Danny."
"Ole."