Who: Clyde and Becca What: Hugs and Such When: August 30 - Late Sunday night after a phone call to make sure she was in Where: Becca's place, LA, CA Warnings: Uhm...??? (Clyde's mouth)
Clyde had been nice. He left Mattie's place early enough that she would get some rest and sleep before work on Monday. She didn't need to go in to the office half out of it from exhaustion, not that Clyde had kept her that busy. They'd actually gotten a little more work done on the transporter, and had taken a little time to just relax. Mattie had told Clyde about Becca's visit, and Clyde wanted to make sure the flight attendant was doing okay. So, he hopped an MTN after stopping off in Shreveport for a quick clean up.
He got a cab to Becca's house, bringing a plant - flowers were nice, but a plant meant something more. Clyde had no fucking idea what, but a plant seemed a better thing to give someone than flowers. A plant continued to live if the person would take care of it. The plant was just a hydrangea; the flowers were purple, and he liked the way it looked. How he got it there, and where, he'd never tell. He probably picked it up on the way to the MTN in Shreveport.
He paid the cabbie, and walked to the door, plant in a decorated pot under his arm. The mechanic sighed and knocked on the red head's door. Well, this was going to be interesting.
Becca had been good. She'd met with Mattie, emailed Michael and made plans to get in contact with Rick Hardwell so that she could maybe try to find out what Azazel's plans for her might be, in order to discreetly feed that information back to the good guys. Sure, she flirted with another of the newbie in the community, but she hadn't jumped a plane to Sin City to meet up--or make out--with the guy. She'd been really good.
The knock surprised her just a little--she'd been deeply engrossed in her new I need to get away from the computer and stop flirting with temptation hobby--but she had been expecting that someone would be checking up on her sometime soon, so she quickly washed and dried her hands and left the kitchen to answer the door.
"Clyde!" She was all smiles for him this time--and none of the plastic stuff she wore like lipstick with her flight-attendant's uniform. "Come on in."
"I brought you a plant." Clyde held out the plant then realized she might not want to get dirty, not that the pot was dirty. He went with really laid back jeans, tee, and boots. Even donned a baseball/trucker cap. "Welcome to your new life, babe."
Dirty? What was that? Becca smiled, pausing to smell the flowers as she took the plant from him, before she spied a good place for it on her coffee table. "Thanks," she said, "So sweet." Whether she meant the flowers, him, or both...well she'd let him figure it out.
"Come on in," she said again, gesturing for him to follow her through the living room and back to the kitchen. "I've got something going on in here but I'd love it if you'd keep me company while I wrap up. Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink?"
Clyde's hands now free went straight into his pockets. He ambled along behind her to the kitchen. He didn't know what she could be doing, but if it was another cake, he'd have gone for another slice. He smiled over at her.
"So, you and Mattie talked? And nah, don' need a drink, thanks. Just wanted to come and check on my favorite red head. Make sure she's got what she needs and is all taken care of." He winked at the woman when/if she looked at him. He was definitely smiling.
"Yeah," she said, smiling at him over her shoulder as she washed her hands again, then turned back to the pie that she'd been in the middle of adding the the top crust. "I talked to Mattie," she said, fussing over the pie-crust a little, fluting the edges, cutting slits in the top and sprinkling it with sugar. "She's a sweet gal. Seemed to have some good ideas about how I might keep myself out of trouble."
She put the pie into the oven and dusted off her hands on the dish towel. "Can you stay a while?" she asked, "Because if you're not in a hurry to get back to work, I could always use a taste test from my favorite food-critic."
"That's fuckin' awesome, babe. Come gimme a hug." He opened his arms and stepped around so that she didn't have to go too far. It really was great that the two women came up with a way to keep the red head out of trouble; he was worried she might get into another situation with Jack, or someone like Jack. Clyde couldn't look after her all the time; hell, he couldn't look after either of them all the time, and he was bad about looking after himself sometimes.
"And, shit, woman. You keep makin' food, I'll keep eatin' it. Gonna get fat. That's what this is, you're tryin' to make me fat. A butterball." He couldn't stop smiling. Things were good. Things were very good.
Rebecca smiled back, quickly closing the small space so she could throw her arms around him, leaning her head on his broad shoulder. She really hoped she'd be able to stick to the new routines she was working out with Mattie, hoped she'd be able to become one of the less bad guys, but she was trying not to worry about any more than what was right in front of her.
Like Clyde. This handsome handy-man of hers who seemed to fuss and cuss as much when he was happy as when he was pissed off--but she was starting to learn the difference now. His smile came easier, she noticed, and hers did too. She gave him a playful swat on the shoulder.
"Not trying to make you fat," she said, "I'm trying to make you happy." Trying to make him proud--because it made her happy to know she was doing something right. "Keepin' a little meat on your bones is just an added benefit."
Clyde laughed, his arms wrapping easily about her. One hand lifted to cup the back of her head, just holding her to him. He placed a soft kiss to the red soft locks. He just held her. He was proud of her, very proud of her. She was going to make a difference in her life, and in other people's lives. This would be good, very good.
There was a grunt for the swat, but soon it was followed by a laugh. He squeezed her before letting her go. "Babe, I don' mind if you put a lil meat on me. Can' be too skinny. Shit, I don' like skinny. Need somethin' to make good muscles outta, right?"
His hand lifted, and he flexed his arm. The tee was tight enough to show exactly how good his muscles were. He waggled his brows at the flight attendant before taking a slouching lean against a counter. His head tilted as he gave her a slow once over.
"You wouldn' guess you were a home makin' type to look atcha. Hell, you look like the kinda woman who'd give men hell and then some. Fuck, babe, you're hot." He whistled softly,shaking his head. "Or it could be I'm leanin' gainst the oven." He lifted up to look behind him; he wasn't.
Becca liked his hugs, liked the attention. She wouldn't deny that. He made her feel safe, which was a little different than with most the other men in her life--okay, a lot different--but she thought it was maybe something she could get used to in a friend. She needed more friends--real friends--in her life.
"I'm not really much of a homemaker," she said, preening under his gaze, "But I've got to eat somehow. Don't get me wrong, I've got plenty of premade, frozen dinners in my freezer over there but there's just something about mixing and kneading dough with your hands..." She hummed, trying not to let her mind wander to some other things she liked to get her hands on. "It's just so...cathartic."
Clyde was more than willing to be her friend. Then again, he was more than willing at times to be many other things. Becca was...well, she was Becca, and he was Clyde. He smirked watching her. It wasn't a cruel smirk, just not the bright ear to ear smile. He licked his lips as his mind wasn't that far from hers in the kneading and such that her hands could probably do.
"Yeah, it's like workin' on my babies. Fuck. So, you know now why I'm a lil leary of you gettin' too into me, babe? I do shit that could get you in trouble, even if you're onna the gang. I don' want you gettin' into the shit, ya know?" He leaned and reached over to pull her back to him. He liked being close to people, or more those women he was attracted to. "You also know that I could be gone quick like. I'm not anybody important as such, but I don' do desk work. You need someone normal. Some Agency slob who's got nothin' to do with any of this shit."
Becca glanced down, then back at Clyde's face, wondering if maybe she were standing too close to the oven. Not that it was an uncomfortable heat in the room.
"I know," she said, letting him pull her close again. "I'm just not sure why you couln't tell me yourself. But it helped push me in the right direction I guess." She'd still never told him that she'd already spoken to Michael Morgan about joining Camelot. It didn't really matter now. She was decided. She chuckled at his description of himself as opposed to the kind of man he thought she needed. "I bet you say that to all the girls," she said, thinking of Mattie. "How do you know I don't do shit that could get you into trouble?"
He settled his hands on her hips, and would have kept them there, but his phone was causing a bit of a buzz. One hand dipped into his pocket to pull it out.
"Because I don' have that kinda power, babe. I'm just a worker bee. Don' really head up anythin'. I work. And I donno if you do shit to get me into trouble, but I gotta feelin' I could get you in more trouble than you'd think. Hold that thought." He leaned back against the counter, pulling her lightly with him, just holding her for a moment.
"Shit. What the fuck. Babe, fuck..." This wasn't good. He turned the phone so that she could see the strange message from Mattie. It wasn't a pretty one. For a guy who talked like he didn't have a proper education, he knew how to handle his phone with one hand. He quickly typed back a message.
Well, Becca hoped she wouldn't do shit that would get any more people into trouble, especially not Clyde--but if there was anyone who could handle himself, if it came to that, it would be him. Better she lead the bad guys to trained Camelot members and away from innocent bystanders like her young friend Tanya.
She furrowed her brow, nodding quietly as he reached for his phone, leaning against him as he checked the message. Any jealousy that she might have had at the fact that their moment had been interrupted by Mattie was quickly replaced with genuine concern as she read its contents.
Clyde held on to Becca as the messages were sent back and forth. His hold on Becca didn't loosen, but grew stronger, tighter. He was getting angry because he had a feeling whatever had upset Mattie had to do with that asshole. Or maybe he wanted it to be that asshole, so that he could finally beat him to a fucking pulp.
The mechanic didn't hide anything from the woman he held. He didn't type anything he felt the need to hide. In fact, Becca could see that he meant to bring her along.
"If this is that assfuck, you'll be gettin' some of your fuckin' money back, babe." Clyde gave her a soft squeeze. "Take care of your pie, and let's go." It wasn't a request.
"Shit," Becca said, leaning into him for one moment as he held her tight, burying her head on his shoulder. It was about Jack. It had to be. She'd been thinking the same thing. But then Clyde issued his instructions, and it was all emergency procedures and quick thinking as she slipped out of his arms and shut off the oven.
The half-baked pie went on a trivet in the fridge--she'd worry about trying to salvage it later--her eyes flashing black for one split second as her back was turned. Let Clyde think it was just her training kicking in. As far as she was concerned, it was.
"She says not to come." Clyde actually sound disappointed, maybe a little hurt. "We're going. She's not facin' him alone." Clyde leaned over and firmly kissed Becca - it was quick, hot, and possessive. His voice a growl. "I hope you're ready to fight."
He didn't say anything more, just started walking for the front door. She'd have to stop him if there was another way to her car. This was one angry Southern boy.
Becca was about to open her mouth to say that Mattie had another think coming when Clyde suddenly kissed her hard. She closed her eyes for as long as it lasted, gripping his neck, feeling almost as if she were stretching out inside her skin as he pulled away and headed for the door. She and Ruby were in agreement on one more thing.
She grabbed her keys and quickly followed, then led him to her car. Not that he didn't already know the one to look for if he still remembered. Red Toyota Tercel. Tonight they were kicking ass and taking names.