So two 'Gingers' walk into a Diner (Wash/Charlie Log: Complete)
Wash was flirting with Beatrice again at a diner he managed to relocate. She was humoring him. The city had made her to look in her mid 50's, robust build and dyed blonde hair frizzled around her like pipe cleaners.
"Rawr. You come back with two pancakes and I'll give you a big tip," he said with a wink. She just rolled her eyes and then shook her head at Wash's whistle.
She might have been a one dimensional character, but it was all Wash could do to distract himself from...himself. This was Wash being a hermit, you see.
He took a long sip of hot black tea and savored the social moment for a while. It gave him temporary happiness. A small jolt to a happiness junkie.
***
Charlie had been looking for something to eat. It happened that sometimes he just didn't know what he wanted, and he was pretty certain he didn't want fruit. Well, he could take something fruit related. Maybe toast. He didn't want to bother Jennifer with the search for food, but then he hadn't anticipated wanting food. He couldn't really bother with something that he didn’t know he'd need. But, he always needed to eat; he was human after all.
He paused in front of the diner, brows rising. Diner food. That could be good and sometimes did indeed come with fruit. He liked diner food after all. More or less. So he headed right in and took a seat not far down the counter from the blonde who was almost ginger. Not enough gingers in the world as far as he was concerned. Actually there weren't enough everybodies, save for criminals. There were more than enough criminals.
"What's the special?" He smiled at the woman behind the counter.
***
"I wouldn't," Wash said before Beatrice could answer. She gave him a harrumph and waved the both of them off as if knowing he was going to take over the conversation. Wash sipped his tea innocently, though. He still wasn't sure if new guy was real or not.
*** "Wouldn't what?" Charlie looked from Bea to the guy beside him. Usually people didn't start conversations with him; the detective was usually the one who started things. He was very good at starting things. A hint of a smile on his lips, he just waited for the answer, or something like it.
"Ask the special, have the special, answer the question, or something else?" So, he didn't wait too long for an answer.
***
"Uh...I wouldn't ask the special, have the special, or, Bea, answer the question," Wash said swiftly with a pointed finger. "I also wouldn't stand in front of a moving car. Just generally. I've tried it before. A large fuzzy blue man tackled me." He sipped his tea again.
***
"You could try shooting it." Charlie nodded slightly. "But, I wouldn't suggest it. We don't like it when people start shooting up cars. The best idea, I've found, is not stand in front of cars, moving or otherwise. Because if they're not moving, they always might." Charlie nodded again. "Large fuzzy blue man. Can't say that I've seen that."
He looked at the other man a little longer before looking at Bea. He turned his cup over, signalling that, yes, he did want coffee. He watched the dark liquid move from one container to another, and seemed for the moment lost in it.
"I'll have a bowl of chili and toast." It seemed like a good thing to have in a diner.
***
"I have noticed that large moving vehicles do not take well to projectiles. I'll keep it in mind while standing in a parking lot. I don't tend to stand in parking lots regularly but...if I find myself there. Then...I'll be utmost cautious about my location," he said with an assertive nod.
"You should get out more," Wash suggested. "So far there's been a green guy with horns and a blue guy with fur. I have my hopes up for a pink guy with a tail, next."
Wash didn't say anything while the other was preoccupied with his coffee while the conversation stalled. He perked up at the order.
"That's good. It's not the special," Wash informed.
***
"Well, they tend to like to stay in motion. When they're in motion. They blow up when shot if shot right. Then again, much blows up in some fashion when shot just right." Charlie nodded. He did know this. Not that he'd blown up much, and he had shot a car once or twice. He'd really liked that car, not that he'd become overattached to it, honest.
"I've met Batman." It wasn't bragging. It simple was. "I met a God. Not just any god, but God with a big G, big man in the sky. But, he's not in the sky. He's here. Smokes. Talks with a Southern accent." He nodded slightly. "Pink guy with a tail could be interesting."
Charlie sat back a little to look around. "New in town?"
***
"I'm a pilot, so I should know that much. And blowing up, yeah, I've been there, too," he admitted. "Though, wasn't me doing the shooting." Jayne had done his fair share of blowing things up. So had Mal. Wash? Well, he was more of a sitting down and flying a big ship sort of guy. Call him old fashioned.
"Bat...man," he repeated slowly while the guy was still talking. "And God? That's hopeful knowing he's here and he can't get us out. Then again, the way the shepherd told his stories, I imagine there's a lesson. To be honest, I'd take being just a liiiittle sinful to skip this lesson."
He let out a breath at the question.
"I-uh-about a month," he said with a nod. "What about yourself? You're not one of...them," he said gesturing to the people around them. "Which means you're real. And not just in the genuine true to yourself sort of way. Though...that's good too. I'm Wash, by the way."
He held out his hand.
***
"Charlie Crews." He left out the "Detective" out of it for now. He just smiled slightly before shifting a little to look at this Wash guy's hand. He shrugged and took it, giving a firm but not overly so handshake. He was simply that good at it. Then again, he had a good bit of confidence in himself, he didn't feel the need to proove himself.
"Probably is a lesson. Probably all sorts of lessons. And, they're real. They cry, laugh, bleed. They love, and probably hate. They are no less real than we are." He smiled softly before glancing at Bea. "Longer than a month." He nodded slightly.
"Batman isn't a bat, not really. Probably not. He's more a man." He looked away in thought; he did wonder about that one.
***
"They might do all of that, Charlie, but there's still something off about them," Wash said uncomfortably. "Something funny in the not jovial way. Like they're not all there. Or they're too much there. Or maybe it's me." He rubbed his eyes.
He only gave a confused look to Charlie's musings about the bat man.
"Thanks Beatrice. Ooh! Extra strawberries! You DO love me!" As she walked away he gave a fond smile and looked down at his pancakes topped with fruit. The strawberries reminded him of Kaylee.
"By bat you mean flying rodent of earth that was and not instrument used to hit a ball, right? Because I can't imagine that would be too intimidating. Unless you were a ball," Wash added hastily. "Or, a cheating husband!"
He smiled around a mouthful of food.
***
"They may be too real. We are not at all real. We are story." Charlie actually wasn't sure how he felt about it, about being a story. But, wasn't everyone a story? He looked down at the plate of food. The strawberries looked good; he should have had that. Yes, strawberries are good.
"She does love you." He nodded. Fruit was a good sign of caring.
"Rodent of Earth. Not sure if it was, but it is." He gave a slight smile. "Cheating husbands don't fear bats. Their cars might. So, perhaps they do.”
***
"Story?" he replied, amused. "I'm not sure how many people would be interested in reading about me. Maybe Mal..." Wash said, trailing off. "Maybe I'd be a good side character. I think I could pull off a convincing comic relief. But, they'd probably end up killing m--" He stopped and took another bite, worriedly.
"Hmmm!" he said, alert at his next statement. He immediately thought of Zoe. But with disappointment he realized Beatrice was smiling at him again.
"I come from a place where you'd need a pretty large bat to disturb a man's vehicle. Now aim it in the right soft tissue of his body, you've got a whole different sort of pain."
***
"Don't need a bat for soft tissue." Charlie knew many ways to damage a man, and he hadn't learned them on the beat. He had had quite the education in prison. "But, I suppose it could be worse. A bat means an extra weapon." He nodded slightly.
"There is nothing wrong with being comic relief or side characters." The detective wasn't sure which one he was. He was something of a very normal person; who'd want to write anything about him? He wasn't sure he was the right one to talk about this though; Ted seemed to think of himself of a side character. It actually concerned him a little that Ted thought that.
***
"Well that's a little gruesome to think of. Maybe we can get off this talk. I like pancakes a lot more without a side of bodily injury," Wash said cutting another piece.
And while gruesome seemed to be off the table morose lingered despite how many strawberries he shoved into his mouth. He talked around them.
"Yeah? Well I must have been a really crappy one, then. If we're taking this story scenario serious, that is. Though I must've had some worth. Sure not many side characters get dramatically pinned like a dead bug to piece of wood. Specimen Wash, could juggle geese with the best of them thus we put him in this nice shadow box and hung him over the toilet, where humor often took him," he finished sardonically.
***
Charlie shifted a bit to look at this specimen of comic relief. He couldn't help the hint of smile; seemed this fellow was indeed more the butterfly dreaming it was a man than the other way around. He took a sip or three of coffee before Bea was kind enough to bring the chili he'd ordered, along with the toast.
"Or you were just too loved to be kept around. You were the heart that had to be pricked to cause an emotional reaction." He nodded. "You have strawberries." As if that were the panecia to all the world's pains. He wasn't sure strawberries were, but apples were pretty close.
"All that's missing is more whip cream." He smirked slightly. Whip cream made it so much better.
***
For some reason this stirred some anger in Wash. As if his life had really just been part of a story and he was just used as a tool to make things more dramatic.
"Yeah? Well I'm not terribly fond at being used for some sad writer ta ma de arc! Gee, glad everything worked out for everyone else. Oh wait, I died. My wife is with another man. And apparently, with your theory involved, my life was no more than a creative foil in a story that I didn't even star in," he said and simmered for a beat while side glancing Charlie.
"Beatrice! Can I have more whipped cream, please!" he said impatiently. "I, uh, I'm really emotional about food. Heh."
***
"You seem emotional in general. Wife and life troubles?" Charlie had tucked into his chili easily enough, and it really wasn't bad. It wasn't the best he'd had, but he would happily eat it all the same. Then again, Charlie would probably it things he didnt' care for as much as those he did. He liked experiences.
"That or your side wasn't the one told at the time." He added in between spoonfuls of warm spiciness. "Of course, now, if you are a story, this is a story, we are all a story. Then you are now your own story, and get to make it up as you go. No script, no lines. You are your own man. Well, you're always your own man, unless you're your own woman. Or dog. There are times you can be your own dog. I was my own dog once. It was fun." He nodded, taking a moment to dip his toast in his chili.
"Though, I wonder if it's fun to be your own cat, or would you snub yourself?"
***
The story talk was getting a little stale for Wash but he listened to it nonetheless. He had nodded at Charlie picking up on his current issues but had waded through the rest of the conversation with the resolve to make the most of his freshly topped whipped cream pancake despite its sweetness threatening to sicken him.
He swallowed his tea to chase down the sugary saccharine stuck in his throat.
"I think I'm allergic to cats," Wash said as a non sequitur. Though, with this guy, it seemed to be par for the course.
***
"Can you be allergic to yourself?" Charlie latched onto that query even if he was the one who had placed it. "That would make for a very irritating existence, but you could probably find a drug for it now. Or would you try to be someone else." It was something of an existential question.
"I thought I was allergic to monkeys. Though if you're allergic to monkeys, it'd be hard to find out. It's not like monkeys are running around willy nilly." He paused as if in thought. "How does one run around willy nilly? What exactly is willy nilly running. Or was there once a person named Willy Nilly?"
***
Wash actually, despite all the angst that had suddenly been brought up, found himself chuckling. This guy was either not-all-there or brilliant. He couldn't wait to find out which.
"Willy Nilly?" Wash asked. "That, my friend, is an phrase I have never heard." Because some idioms did just get lost in the future, apparently. "But, if I had to guess, and I am a supreme guesser, I would think it had something to do with copious amounts of alcohol. Now you figure out sha ji gei hou kan for me."
Wash still hadn't gotten completely that Mandarin wasn't common tongue.
***
"Sha ji gei hou kan?" Charlie repeated, slowly and not too poorly. He stared. He didn't know what that meant, and he guessed that it was certainly something that was willy nilly adjacent, perhaps. "I'm not sure it has much to do with alcohol, but it certainly has something to do with random or bad decisions or randomly bad decisions."
He nodded. "Possibly."
***
Wash rubbed his eyes.
"Right," he said. Charlie didn't know what Wash had said.
"Random bad decisions? AND randomly bad decisions. Huh. Nope, no idea what that's like. When I make bad decisions they are definitely not random. They really are at the worst time possible," he said matter of factly.
"Uh, sha ji gei hou kan. It means, well literally it means, 'killing a chicken in front of an ape--monkey!' In front of a monkey. It's used like...uh--like when you discipline someone to prove a point? Make an example. It's colloquial. I just have NO idea the significance. Why would killing a chicken in front of a monkey make an example to the monkey? If I were a monkey I'd be like, hey! Dinner! That's great! Right?" Wash asked. He nibbled on his fork thoughtfully.
***
"Do monkeys eat chickens? Do monkeys often inhabit chicken populated areas? Also, monkeys, apes, men should be able to learn from an example much better than a chicken could. They only play tic-tac-toe." The detective nodded. "Or the piano."
He scooped up some chili on his spoon and shoved it in his mouth to chew on in a thoughtful manner. Yes, chickens and monkeys were certainly on his mind now. He'd have to ask Jennifer about this, perhaps Ted. They had both experienced the law in various ways. He had seen both sides of it.
"So, you've made a bad decision lately?" Yes, he was coming back to that.
***
"Dunno," Wash said dreamily with an eyebrow raised. "You should see gosling tricks. Hm. Maybe you shouldn't..."
Wash's back became straighter at Charlie's question. He didn't answer for a while, considering a piece of pancake he'd just put in his mouth.
"Eh," he replied, non-commitly. "You really wanna pass up the gosling story? It's really interesting..."
***
"I think I do." Charlie nodded slightly with that. "Gosling tricks makes me think of an actor. Though I'm sure you could do some nice tricks with him, if you wanted. I will not judge; the world is made of many people." Charlie was certainly not making any judgement calls. He waas simply stating a fact as far as he was concerned.
"Of course, what seems like a bad decision today could be the right one later. It's not always the case, but it does happen." He nodded slightly then smiled. Not that he would ever say finding his way into Jennifer's bed was a bad decision. Their superiors might, but he would never question that decision.
***
"I really don't know what you're saying. Like, I hear what you're saying and I know the words that you're saying but...mo ming qi miao, don't understand. That means I don't understand," he said and put down his fork. "This is bothersome."
And as Charlie continued he sighed.
"I'm pretty sure it was bad no matter the day. OK, Charlie? You want to hear what I did? Okay. Alright. Well. I think it all started when I died," he said conversationally. "Puts a man a little sour when his life ends so you could understand the aggravation and confusion. Well...enough. Anyway.
"Come here, wife is now ex-wife. See, she's been here for years. I'm married to her one day, the sexing, and the loving, and the sexing, and the marital fights, and the sexing, and the marital bliss, and the sexing. You know. But here she's hooked herself up, logically so, in her grief at my absence. Told Zoe I didn't want to see her, hurt too much. It does. So then I meet this guy. I don't remember much of it as I was on the edge of alcohol poisoning. But he's the one with Zoe. That's my wife. Ex. So I attempt to beat him up. And...I don't remember but I think he beat me up. Or...tried not to. Well the point is...no matter what decision I make I'm not going to get her back, Charlie. She's my life, my heart, my world. And I can't get her back," he finished solemnly.
"Gosh! These pancakes are just delicious with a side of bitter sweet realization and existential angst!" he put more in his mouth and talked around it, "Gotta see if I can't make these at home!"
***
Charlie's smile was soft and somehow understanding. He didn't say anything back at first; he just let Wash eat his fruity treats in silence, or as silent as the other man got. The detective finished off his bowl of chili and the toast along with it before he pushed it away and turned a little to look at the very unhappy man.
"I went away. I left my wife; didn't have much of a choice. She divorced me, married someone else. I slept with her once, but it didn't do anything. Made me feel like I was marking my territory. Nothing more than that; didn't need it. She wasn't mine anymore." Oh, he would have kept cuckolding the asshat who had married her, but it just wasn't as fulfilling as having someone who was truly with him.
"I came here. She's not here, but she was when I got back where I was. I came here, found someone new. Back there...I was finding someone and something new. She wasn't the one who consumed me. I had over a decade to start letting her go; maybe if I had seen her more with that other man, maybe I would have let her go faster. Or maybe I would have killed him." He shrugged as if it were nothing because it was nothing. Maybes really didn't do much in the way life went.
"Maybe you can try, fail, and move on. Or maybe you don't." That was Charlie's great advice. "But, which would make you a better Wash?"
***
Wash looked up as Charlie started talking. He was nearly done with his pancakes but he was pushing around the remainder with a fork, enthusiasm for it gone sour. He propped his head on his hand, giving Charlie his full attention.
He flinched a smile at him after he was done and looked down. He put his fork down. He was done with the pancake. He was preferring the bitter tea instead.
He considered the question with visible distress.
"Never good at multiple choice," he mumbled. "I dunno. Need some more time, I think. I'm glad you found someone. And hey. Buddy, if you can do it maybe there's a chance." He gave Charlie a smirk. "I don't know if I can give her up as easy, though. Spike ran me clear through my chest, but I'm pretty sure Zoe still has my heart."
***
Charlie liked this man. He felt for this man, and this man would now be something of a project for Charlie. The detective wouldn't try to set him up with anyone, not obviously. Nor would he try to insert himself too painfully into the man's life. No, he'd do what he could on the side, and offer his support otherwise.
He smiled at Wash and was soon sliding off the stool. He put his hand in his pocket, pulled out more money than he had right to, set some of it down - covering Wash's meal and a healthy tip with it - and then put the money away. He wasn't done there. He dug out something from his jacket pocket and set it on the counter.
"You can look me up here. If I can do it, you might have a chance. Or you could be heading to the emotional abyss never to return again." He set his hand on Wash's shoulder and leaned in possibly a little too close for most people's comfort. "But, I think you'll make it. Don't prove me wrong." The last seemed almost like a threat.
He patted the man's shoulder before walking off, whistling some tune he'd heard once. It didn't have any meaning. Just seemed the thing to do when walking off into the...well, it really wasn't sunset. But he was certainly walking off.
***
Wash nodded, a little bewildered, but picked up what Charlie had laid down, his business card.
He turned it to him and read, ‘Detective Charles Crew, City Police Department.’
Wash’s eyes widened. Then he broke out into laughter. Mal would never believe it, that his pilot had just made friends with the police!