2020-09-19 - Charred Weed and Loaded Tots

It must be laundry day, for Joe's wearing a t-shirt that isn't one of the usual plain, solid-colored ones he favors. No, this one reads 'On the 8th Day God Created Sailors And The Devil Said "Oh Shit"', in white letters on a dark blue background. He's got a hint of a limp, accentuating that roll in his stride, but he doesn't seem to be in pain or distress. No, there's that wind-blown look he gets when he's spent the day at sea, and there's that trace of a smile in the lines around his mouth, as he claims his usual stool at the bar.

Vic is having a really bad week. First two of Joey Kelly's guys, albeit ones who were on the periphery, were murdered. Then she had a shouting match with Ruiz in front of her unrequited crush. Then Greg Sumpter's trailer was set on fire, probably by Reyes guys, and her own got pretty scorched. She helped save some people, but she's been bunking at Kelly's Gym until stuff can be repaired in her Airstream. She had some clothes stored at Joey's business so she is wearing jeans and a tee, but most of her clothing was in the trailer and she needs to take everything to the laundromat to get the smoke out of it.

That's something for tomorrow. She didn't get a lot of sleep, and she needs some tots and whiskey, stat. She's coughing now and then thanks to last night's smoke inhalation as she shoulders her way into the bar as a customer instead of an employee tonight. She moves up to the bar, not far from Joe, and asks the tender on duty for a double and loaded tots. She glances over at the sailor and grunts at him in what might be a hello.

"Hey, you," he says, amiably. The drink tonight is a Cuba Libre - it's been a long time since he went for the full-on blitz of a Four Horsemen. "You a'right? Or were you aroun' that fire the other night?" he wonders. Joe seems cool and collected enough, the blue eyes heavy-lidded.

"Yeah, I was around it. It burned down a couple trailers and damaged mine. Gonna be a few weeks before it's repaired," Vic says with a grimace. "No one died at least. There were a couple paramedics driving in the neighborhood so they got to people quick." And she used her mojo to help, but she doesn't seem inclined to admit that at the moment. Her whiskey is set in front of her and she eases up onto the stool before taking a drink from it. "You doing ok? Is that limp new?"

Joe whistles low, at that. "Glad to know no one was lost." His grin is crooked. "No, that's old. IT just comes and goes, 'pendin' on the weather and what I been up to. Out on the Surprise today, sometimes it leaves my land legs a little shaky when I get back. Got some smoke, huh?"

Vic snorts then coughs into her hand. "Yeah, they made me sit down with an oxygen mask for a bit but it just irritated the lung I got shot in. Sleeping in the gym isn't gonna help that. All I can smell there are gym socks. Guys are gross." She takes another swig of whiskey. "I'm sure some people in town have some stuff to help with that. The dispensary or whatever, CBD stuff?"

He pulls a face in sympathy. "The gym? That's where you're crashing? C'mon, you c'n do better. Hell, I'll buy you a room in town for a week or so, if you can't swing it - B&B or somethin'. And I know the feelin' - 'minds me of when I had to share a stateroom on a carrier. There'd always be one guy who was just a hog."

Vic arches a brow at Joe. "I can take care of myself, Cavanaugh. I may stay at the murder motel for a little bit. Just thought the gym would be a good way to keep an eye on things for Kelly, but I don't think I can stand the fumes much longer," she chuckles, swirling the whiskey in her glass. "Sorry about the other night. There's a lot of...unresolved crap between Javier and I from some years back. You didn't deserve to be at ground zero for that."

"Didn't say you couldn't," he retorts, but his tone is still determinedly amiable. What does it take to get him to show a flash of temper, to lose his cool? "An' nothin' to be sorry for. Though what's all that about?" Still couched with that air of good nature. As if this were all idle chit-chat, rather than any kind of interrogation.

Vic grimaces and has the decency to look sheepish about it. "That's his story to tell you, I think. If he chooses to. We worked together, shit went bad, and it was my fault. More than that, you should hear from him." She shrugs a little and scrubs at her face with a hand. "I'm sorry if I'm in a mood. It's been a hell of a week." Her tots are set in front of her and she digs in, sliding them towards Joe to share.

Joe concedes the point with a graceful turn of a hand, in lieu of a shrug. "Fair enough," he says. The question is....if he'll ask. Surely he will, Javier's given him as much right to pry as any. "Nothin' to apologize for. I haven't been up to much myself - gettin' Surprise ready for winter, same for the bike. Lyin' around watchin' the Mandalorian. Maybe I could ask my publisher, see if he could get me a contract for a Star Wars novel."

"Now that would be awesome. I haven't had time to watch tv in a while, haven't been able to catch the Mandalorian but heard good things," Vic points out between tots shoved down her gullet. "I might have to consider getting a better place to live. From what I understand, this town doesn't tend to let people like us go once it has us here."

He takes one tot, nibbles at it. More to be sociable than out of any real hunger - but then, for all he's a sponge for booze, he never seems to eat much. "I like it so far. They wisely went back to the roots of Star Wars....which is to say, certain kinds of Japanese historical drama, and Westerns. It's better for it not bein' about the Jedi, I think."

His expression is thoughtful. "I think I will talk to my publishers about it. And that sounds like a good idea. It does have a way of keepin' us, doesn't it?" Joe's voice is only idly musing. "Plenty of places to rent."

"Yeah, I'll think about it. Mostly staying at the trailer park to keep an eye on some folks, but some of them are moving out, so maybe my resources would be better off making my life comfortable instead of cramped." She smirks and pushes her hair back out of her face. "You think your boat is cramped? Try a 22' Airstream." At nearly six feet in her bare feet, it's a tight squeeze indeed.

"After some of the places I bunked in the Navy, that's roomy," Joe says, turning to pick up his drink again. "But yeah, you might well wanna think about something sturdier. 'specially with winter comin' on. You'll notice I don't live aboard Surprise full time now. Got a place on land soon's I could, matter of fact."

He's picked up a scrap of paper - the remains of a receipt - and begun to fold it, rather absentmindedly.

Vic makes a thoughtful sound and sips her whiskey, now that the edge has been taken off. "I'll have to look into my options. I'm not exactly living the lifestyle of the rich and famous out here. But I can probably do better than the murder motel for a more permanent solution. If Javier doesn't run me out of town before then," she jokes. Maybe. She chuckles at least.

There's that crooked grin. "Well, there's plenty of options. This ain't Seattle, thank god. One step up on.....I don't 'member what the cheapest apartment options were." Commander Fancy Pants lives in Bayside, after all. "I'm sure he won't.....but I'm sure you can do better, yeah."

"When I get the estimate on fixing the Airstream, I'll decide if it's worth it or if I should just rent an apartment. As it is, I think I have a permanent contact high from all the weed that burnt up in that fire. Christ, did you read the news article? Even the reporter was stoned from it." Vic shakes her head and finishes her whiskey. "I should head out. I have to get up early and hit the laundromat, because all my clothes smell like charred weed right now."

He can't help but bite his lip. "I shouldn't laugh," Joe says, but he only half-manages to keep the humor out of his voice. "God, yeah, I did. I'm sorry. You let me know if there's anything I c'n do to help," he adds. He tips his glass to her in lieu of a salute.

"Oh Joe, if only you could do what would really help me right about now," Vic teases, with a wink, before she slides off the stool, pays her tab, and heads for the door, leaving the rest of the tots to him.