Pietro Maximoff (seethiscoming) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-09-17 20:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, leon orcot, pietro maximoff (quicksilver) |
Who: Pietro Maximoff & Leon Orcot
What: Drunk!Leon is drunk and Pietro is the unfortunate Uber driver responsible for getting him home
When: July, sometime
Where: Various places
Rating/Warnings: PG | Drunken behaviour
Status: Log | Complete
Leon had told Veronica that he was going to cut back on the drinking, and, for the most part, he had. Since Laurel had gotten shot, there was less of the stumbling home drunk at odd hours of the night after hours of drinking alone, less waking up with a shot of whiskey to help chase his hangovers away, less all of it. But what was Leon supposed to do when one of the detectives on his shift was having a bachelor party? He had to go, and he had to get drunk. It was team building, after all.
He’d made arrangements for Chris to spend the night with Ozma, something both of them had been excited with, and, in the wee hours of the morning, he finally called an Uber, said good-bye to the boys, and climbed in the back seat.
“Hey!” he said, greeting the man by the name Uber said happily if not a couple decibels too loud. He clapped the driver on the shoulder. “How’s it going tonight, man?”
Peter had something of an aversion to being touched. By anyone. Especially strangers, American strangers. He had learned however since coming to the States from Romania that there was no helping some Americans, some just liked to touch, show their apparent regard, and he’d definitely improved on his response.
No longer did he nearly break wrists but rather plastered on a smile to ‘grin and bear it’ especially as paying customers were important. Not just for his ability to pay rent but also for keeping himself fed, clothed, watered and a multitude of other boring things that only ever happened when you got older.
“Busy,” he replied. “Lots of parties tonight it would seem.”
“Oh yeah,” Leon said, leaning back in his seat. “It is summer, and the weekend, and fucking gorgeous out there.” How could there not be a lot of parties? He struggled for a moment with his seatbelt before he finally managed to click it into place.
He had been planning on going right home after saying goodbye to his colleagues, but now that he was in the car and getting ready to head that way, suddenly there was nothing he wanted more than to swing by D’s pet shop and see what he was up to at 2am on a Friday night, because whatever it was, it was probably No Good. “Listen, I know that I wanted you to take me home, but is there any way you can make a detour to Chinatown?”
A detour to Chinatown? As in the complete opposite direction of their intended destination? Part of Peter was tempted to say no but he knew better than that, bit back on that automatic response and just gave a curt nod. “No problem, your money after all.” And it was, Leon would be the one footing the bill and Peter had no issue with making extra if he could. Every little helped after all.
Thankfully his night might have been busy but he hadn’t needed to handle arguing couples or deal with somebody threatening to puke in his backseat. Small blessings.
“What is in Chinatown?”
“A guy,” Leon said. “He owns a pet shop over there. Real bad news.” Just because Leon was pretty sure at this point that D wasn’t a serial killer and had no evidence of him getting up to anything else dastardly didn’t mean that D wasn’t doing that stuff. “I figure if I surprise him enough, I’ll eventually catch him in the act.”
“Right,” Peter drawled as he chanced a look at the blonde in his rear view mirror. Just how drunk was this guy? Also sounded like a pretty crap way to spend your morning but wasn’t like he knew the guy so if that’s what he wanted to do then more power to him.
He didn’t mention the fact that if people had an inkling that they were being watched then they were more likely to do the exact opposite of what they were suspected of doing.
There was a term for it, but he couldn’t remember it.
As far as Leon was concerned, D doing the exact opposite of what Leon suspected he was doing was a good thing.
It wasn't long before the pulled up in front of the pet shop, and Leon hopped out of the car and banged on the door.
"D!" Leon bellowed. "D, open the damn door!"
"He isn't here, Detective," a women's voice called out, though to anyone else it might have just sounded like the faint cry of a bird.
"Not here?" Leon yelled back. "Then where the hell is he?"
"He's at home, Detective. Now be quiet before you wake everyone up."
"Home? You mean he doesn't live at the-" and that's when the yelling started, though to anyone else it would have sounded like a cacophony of animal cries from beyond the door. Leon wheeled away quickly, looking down the street to see if anyone else was around, and hurried back to the car.
"I guess he doesn't live at the pet shop," Leon muttered as he climbed in, more than a little embarrassed. "We should go before someone sees me here." Even with the car door closed he could still hear the yelling from the shop, and he slouched down in the seat hoping to hide himself from view.
Honestly Peter had no idea what to make of what he’d just seen and so he just watched with something akin to confusion and not such a small splattering of what the fuck? because he’d seen drunk people do a lot of stupid things but this? This was new.
Apparently Leon wasn’t that great at subtle if all the yelling was any indication.
Peter ducked his head to watch the continued display unaware of the fact he was unable to keep his hand still as he drummed his fingers against the dashboard. “Seems not,” he murmured as he glanced over his shoulder to regard Leon as he hunkered down into the back seat.
“So, where next?”
“Just take me home,” Leon muttered, still slouched in his seat. There really was no reason for him to feel so disappointed by the fact that D wasn’t at his shop, and yet here he was.
But tonight was supposed to be a good night, and he’d be damned if he was going to let D of all things ruin it, so once the car started moving again, he leaned up, resting his forearms on the passenger seat head of him. “So, how long you been driving for?”
Home? Peter could do that. He leaned forward and changed the intended destination, back to the original location.
He pulled back into traffic and as he did, he became aware of the blonde passenger leaning forward to brace his forearms on the empty passenger seat. “A year, give or take a few months here and there.” It was not an ideal job but it allowed Peter a certain amount of freedom as well as having a home on wheels should the need arise. It might given his lack of a room-mate and there was the offer from Wanda but he didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness.
“No day is the same.”
“A year, huh?” Leon asked, and laughed, loudly, and then, with a complete lack of self-awareness, added, “man, you must’ve had to drive a lot of drunk idiots around, huh? You got any crazy stories?”
“Well,” Peter drawled as he glanced up into his rear view mirror to catch Leon’s eyes briefly. “There was this one time with a drunk passenger who got me to drive him to a pet shop to scream through the door at animals.” And a smirk touched the edge of his lips before he flashed his pearly whites.
As an Uber driver he had an interesting relationship with speed as in he challenged it at every single turn but he had not had one accident or had a brush with the law so he wasn’t about to change the way he did things.
Leon nearly laughed, until he realized that that guy was him. He flushed, a little angry but mostly just embarrassed, and sat back into his seat. “Ha ha,” he muttered, but it wasn’t like he could necessarily hold that against Peter. It probably seemed weird to anyone who didn’t know D. Hell, it would probably seem bizarre even to people who had met D. He could spread the charm on pretty thick when he wanted to.
He glanced out the window, frowning a little as the scenery flew by. “Hey, how fast are you going?” he asked.
Peter snorted quietly. “I will not tell anyone.” His cab was a lot like a confessional box in a Catholic church. “A good speed, to get you home faster.” It was less profitable for Peter but he didn’t do well with slow anything so the faster the better. Sometimes he felt as though he’d vibrate out of his skin at any given second.
“You are perfectly safe.”