Phillip Wolfe | Phobos (inclinedfear) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2011-10-09 23:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | ares, eris, phobos |
Please Mr. Jailer
Who: Charlie, Rylee & Samuel
What: Samuel has to bail our newest couple out of jail.
Where: Newport Beach Police Department
When: Just after this thread
Warnings: With Charlie AND Samuel involved there will surely be cursing.
Notes: Gdoc Holder! Completed!
Rylee was the picture of distraught. He had such high and nervous hopes for their date. Trying on his suit twice, picking at the fuzzes that clung to the material, trying to tame his damn hair, and spending a half hour trying to pick out the most perfect rose to give Charlie.
Now the rose was lost, his hair was back to being a mess, and his suit was wrinkled. His knuckles ached and were pink, he was sitting on a bench in a jail cell, and his girlfriend was in a cell elsewhere.
Calling Samuel and requesting help was one of the most nerve wracking things he ever had to do. He didn’t even have the strength to keep the quiver from his voice when he briefly told Samuel that he and Charlie had been taken into the police station because they were involved in a fight and to please, please help.
Now he waited with desperation for his friend to more or less save him while he thought over how much he had destroyed his first date with the girl he had loved for half of his life.
Samuel’s thoughts did not run parallel, precisely, but they did run close enough for horseshoes and hand grenades. Though Charlie and Lia had questioned the means and mode of his advice to Rylee, it seemed to have worked well enough. With enough bread crumbs even the most reluctant little birds could usually be caught. And once things had begun to progress in earnest, they seemed to have truly taken off. The two of them had gotten on like a house on fire - and perhaps that was the trouble. The metaphor had simply been too apt.
In plainclothes, his service weapon strapped to his side, badge hanging helpfully around his neck, Samuel slammed into the station door, sending it swinging on its aging hinges. The officers and administrative personnel he passed gave him an equally wide berth, the expression on his face clearly speaking for itself. He strode straight toward booking, flashing his badge where necessary - all but throwing it in the faces of those who dared attempt to stop him, or otherwise act as if he did not utterly belong there - and simply barging through doors where it was not.
“Eckholm and Fairica,” he barked, reaching for his wallet before the booking officer could hardly react. Samuel gritted his teeth as the woman tapped at her computer, then read off a number far, far too high for his taste, but he threw the thick stack of cash on the counter all the same. And then began the waiting, standing in booking with his arms folded hard across his broad chest, staring at the door from whence they would both come.
Charlie was still a little in shock - not over what had happened, necessarily, but in the way things had fallen out. It was the second time she’d seen Rylee get angry (and not just angry, but angry), and it was quite a different story watching such an emotion play out rather than being on the receiving end of it.
She was currently seated on an otherwise empty bench - previously, there had been three other women all bitchily vying for more space, but that had changed when Charlie had threatened to put her heel through one of their ears (one shoe was in her hand, the heel snapped in half). Now she was sitting pretty (as much as was possible when all she wanted to do was go back to the restaurant and tear those drunks a new one) and waiting for something to happen.
“Fairica, you made bail,” interrupted her thought process, and Charlie glanced up from the smouldering glare she’d been aiming at the floor. Who the hell had come to get them?
Slipping off her other shoe, she made her way down the hall from the small holding area and out to where she’d hopefully be able to go home. She was sick of the stupid dress she was wearing, and more than a little upset at how the evening had gone. Things only got more interesting as she pushed open the door that lead to freedom, her brows climbing up her forehead before she rolled her eyes.
“For fuckin’ serious? Who called yah? I swear, if yah say one fuckin’ thing,” she started, though her anger wasn’t aimed at Samuel. But she needed to vent, somehow.
Rylee had never been inside a police station and honestly didn’t know what to do since he had ‘made bail’. Still, the cop seemed to get the idea that he was clueless and told Rylee to follow him out. Follow him he did, straight out to where Samuel and Charlie stood. Charlie was barefoot which made Rylee immediately think of athlete’s foot and plantar warts. He’d pick her up and carry her out of the police department but he didn’t think that would be a good idea with the situation they were in.
Then his eyes fell on Samuel, their would be savior, and he realized how pissed Samuel looked. Dropping his eyes to his shoes, Rylee shuffled slightly before mumbling, “Thank you, Samuel. I’ll pay you back for our bail. I’m so sorry you had to come out here.” He peeked at Charlie and frowned even more. He had ruined their date. The whole damn thing. “I’m sorry, Lee. I called him. I didn’t know how else we would get out and the cops said I could make a call...”
“Damn right you will. Most expensive fuckin’ date I’ve paid for and I don’t even get a handjob out of it.” He took a step forward, index finger pointing firmly in Rylee’s face. “Hey,” he said. “I at least better get the whole story, no glossing over, of how this shit happened.”
So quickly Samuel went from nebulous, undirected anger to open amusement; it was difficult to stay angry with Rylee, and more difficult still when the situation presented him with so much unintentional, Schadenfreude-laden humor. His arms unfolded from their tightly clenched spot, a bright grin breaking over his face. His impish gaze turned to Charlie, appraising her uncharacteristic dress. She looked good; better than he might have expected, broken heel and irate expression notwithstanding. And still he could not resist baiting the bear, as it were; the words were out before he could stop a single one.
“Well shit, Charlie. They’ve only had you in here for a few hours and already they’re dressin’ you up like a girl. Traumatizing.”
The punch to Samuel’s face was flying before Charlie was honestly aware of the motion; her fist connected with his jaw, despite the fact that she’d been aiming for an eye or nose. Such was the bane of being short and lacking the height-altering heels, but it would certainly do as she felt teeth grind into the flesh of his cheek.
“Fuck you - take us the fuck home. Now.” Assaulting a SWAT member inside of a police station wasn’t the grandest of ideas, but she had rarely been known for anything even remotely resembling a good idea. Instead, she began to walk away on bare feet, intending on leading them out of the station and toward the car, if no one else was going to.
Rylee’s jaw dropped as Charlie stomped out of the station. Turning with his eyes large, Rylee’s jaw worked for a moment before he was able to say anything. “Sam... I’m... I’m sorry she just did that.” Rylee blinked once then looked at the retreating figure of Charlie, a quiver of a smile twitching at the corner of his lips as he watched her storming out. “Please don’t press charges and I promise I’ll tell you everything once we are out of here, okay?”
He pulled his attention to Samuel again and smiled sheepishly with the faint coloring of his typical blush on his cheeks as he began to back away and leave the building to follow his girlfriend. “Promise,” Rylee insisted as he reached the doors.
“I’m chargin’ you interest on her bail,” Samuel said. Though his voice was barely better than a snarl there was a smile on his face, and when the booking officer quirked a curious brow at him, he raised a hand to wave off her concerns. He would have his share of questions upon the start of his next shift, but these would all be silenced the moment they found out the perpetrator was a friend of his. He chuckled a little at that thought, then worked his jaw, feeling that slight, familiar tightness where a bruise was already rising. He reached ahead of Rylee, pushing open the door, then holding it as they both passed through. “Tell you what,” he said. He reached for his keys, unlocking his truck’s doors while they were both still a safe distance from a very angry Charlie. He looked back to Rylee, that impish smile still playing on his lips, a hard line of sincerity hiding behind that boyish veil. “You tell me a story that’s worth three grand, kiddo, and I’ll be happy to deny myself the joy of seeing her back in jail. Sound good?”
As they got to the truck, Samuel raised a hand, pointing at Charlie as if she were a naughty pet or misbehaving child. “Now if you sit in the front seat,” he said, “can I trust you not to run me off the goddamn road between here and Pax? This one bruise is gonna be enough for me tonight, if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, ‘cause gettin’ into a car accident innit checked off my list of shit to do tonight,” she growled in return, not at all amused. Once she’d heard the beep of the locks undoing themselves, Charlie helped herself to the handle of the shotgun seat and got in without further words, all but slamming the door closed behind her with a finality that said she wasn’t interested in conversation. Seated in the truck, she crossed her arms over her chest, broken heels in her lap, and looked out the window like a pouting brat.
Rylee glanced at Samuel with a frown before climbing into the cab of the truck. He took turns of glancing at his lap and to Charlie. Finally, he reached for her, slow and cautiously. His hand going over the front seat he brushed at her hair. It was awkward, but Rylee was able to lean forward enough to press his lips to the side of her head, even if it was quick, and whisper into her ear, “I’m sorry, Charlie.” Her head turned at the sudden voice in her ear, making a small twinge of guilt start up in her stomach for the way she was acting. Which, of course, made her clam up ever further.
As if he was a child that was nearly caught misbehaving, Rylee quickly leaned back into his seat as Samuel got into the driver’s seat and looked wearily at his friend. “So... you want just the good stuff?” Rylee asked as he looked at Samuel with large, sorrowful eyes.
Samuel’s wrist turned; the truck came to life with a dull roar. He looked up into the rear view mirror, seeing in its narrow strip the widened whites of his friend’s eyes. It was as interesting a sight as Rylee’s newfound, still tentative tenderness toward Charlie, and a sign just as telling. “For what I paid,” Samuel said, “I want all the stuff.” At last he looked away as he turned onto the road, fingertips drumming on the steering wheel as he waited for their tale of woe. Charlie remained quiet in the front seat, keeping her arms and legs inside of her own bubble of space as she waited for Rylee to relate the horror story of their first date.
“We were on our first date,” Rylee began softly, staring at his hands as Samuel drove towards home. Swallowing, Rylee forced himself to look up, although he kept his averted from the front of the truck. “There were these drunks at the bar who started to say things to Charlie. They were rude and very inappropriate. I... I didn’t like what they were saying to her and when one of them tried to touch Charlie I ended up punching him.”
Rylee pressed his lips together, having spat out the general details of the story and leaving a lot behind, he figured that Charlie could say something too. He was sure she was going to burst at some point or another. Still, he didn’t feel that he gave enough information and quickly added, “It was after that the restaurant called the police and we were escorted out. And sort of arrested.”
Samuel’s mouth had drawn to a thinned line, the furrow in his brow deepening as Rylee spoke. He knew enough to effectively fill in the blanks; it would, after all, take behavior of a certain kind to get a man of Rylee’s temperament to behave in such a way. With that in mind there was not much more that truly needed to be said, and Samuel would himself feeling a great deal more at ease with his unusual little errand. But for all his intuition - which he of course trusted implicitly - he still wanted more, some additional assurance that he had in fact done the right thing. His gaze flicked from Rylee’s reflection in his mirror to Charlie’s face, reading their expressions to supplement his slowly forming vision of the truth.
“Should I ask you to define ‘touch,’ or could I guess?”
“He grabbed my arm,” Charlie interjected, not needing the wandering minds of others to color in unnecessary angles to the story. “I jerked back, and fell cause’a these stupid things.” One heel loosely flipped up in her hand, the unbroken one, and then was neatly placed back in her lap in lieu of stabbing someone - she was careful to not wave it too close to Samuel’s face, since she had no desire to make the evening more interesting than it already was. Her mouth opened and closed, showing that she had more to say but was (wisely, in her mind) keeping such comments to herself - about Rylee trying to play the hero being unnecessary, that she had been perfectly capable of dealing with the drunks, but instead, things had gotten out of hand. Of course, whether that was something that should have been laid at her doorstep was another story entirely; she had done her best, in the end, to throw that last punch.
“He seemed insistent that Charlie wanted to do other things with him,” Rylee mumbled from his gloom in the back seat. “I told him repeatedly to leave us alone but he wouldn’t listen. Then he touched her and I just sort of lost it.” Rylee took the chance to look up at Samuel’s eyes as they were reflected in the rear view mirror and frowned. “I’m really sorry you had to do this, Samuel. I didn’t know who else we could call.”
Samuel shook his head. “Don’t be.” He let them stew in silence a moment as he considered all that had happened. Though he was still no fan of Charlie’s reaction to his teasing, he could better understand, now, what had caused such testiness. More importantly, he now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had been right to respond to them, to be there when they had said they needed him, without hesitation or question. At last he looked up to them both, each in turn, making sure to meet their eyes. “You did the right thing,” he said, his gruff tone fraught with meaning. “I hope you both fucked ‘em up good.”
Then, without warning or preamble, he flashed a bright grin. “So how’d the date go otherwise?”
Charlie neither expected nor wanted approval from Sam, but for some reason she felt a flush of gratitude, as though she were being commended on her work. Which was odd, seeing as how they usually didn’t see eye to eye and seemed forever butting heads, but something about his comment was...nice. She batted away the thought and the feeling, letting a sour expression color her face and hide her thoughts.
“Fine,” was her monosyllabic reply, which really said nothing at all. Undoubtedly the comment would hurt Rylee since he had put so much effort into planning their date, which was not her intention in the least, but it was a rare moment when Charlie actually thought before she spoke.
Rylee did look hurt. Luckily for Charlie, he was sitting behind her and she couldn’t see his expression. But her brief reply didn’t help to squelch his worries that the date had been a disaster. Fine didn’t necessarily mean fine in Charlie’s language. Rylee didn’t reply, feeling that Charlie put it in better words, or a word in this case, than he could. He stared out the window, willing the drive to go faster and thankful to see familiar sights. He had high hopes for this night and they had all gone to hell. Now he just wanted to go home and go to bed.
Samuel would not have anticipated any more loquacious an answer from Charlie; similarly, he read nothing into it, well aware he had put her on the spot, and over such a sensitive topic, to boot. He arched a brow at her answer, briefly considering letting it pass. Pax loomed ever nearer in the distance, after all, and if she were to react in some overtly poor manner - perhaps expressing her distaste with the broken heel of her shoe, he considered - at least they would be home in short order afterward.
“That good, huh?” He drew a deep, tired-seeming breath, settling back into the deep seat. “Oh well. I’ve had some pretty ‘fine’ ones myself. Take a mulligan or something. Maybe next time you won’t dress up so nice just to go to a fistfight.”
Fingers curled around the still-intact heel, completely ready to jab it into any available part of Samuel that came to hand first. But Charlie forced herself to calm down - there was no need to punctuate the evening with a trip to the hospital because of attempted passenger-on-driver vehicular homicide - and instead let out a long and angry sigh. Truly the evening had been going wonderfully, up until the drunk had made his presence known. The flirting before dinner, the food and the wine were all great, in Charlie’s mind, even if she never really gave much credit to high-end things. And then crashing the wedding reception to dance for just a little while was a nice segue into whatever Rylee might have planned next - or had not planned, wherever the evening might have taken them.
She had been completely fine with the ridiculous outfit she’d worn (and she knew she couldn’t say made to wear, because she’d chosen it of her own accord, all just to make Rylee squirm) but that had changed sharply when she had realized how helpless her clothing options had left her. If there was one thing above all things that Charlie could not abide, it was feeling or being weak. Even just thinking the word in her mind caused such disgust that her mouth curved into an even worse frown, acting as though something Samuel had said put it there.
Rylee let out a sigh when Pax came into view. “Oh thank god,” he whispered under his breath, unknowing if the pair in the front seat heard him. He just wanted the night over, right now, or as soon as possible. With all intentions, Rylee wanted to leap from the truck and disappear into his apartment as soon as the truck pulled over, but he realized that would be hard to do with Samuel living directly next to him. They would end up stuck in the elevator then have to walk down the hall together and have awkward conversation the entire time. Maybe he could escape them all and go lick his metaphorical wounds in peace. The date had been going so perfectly, so perfectly, but now that was over and done with and Charlie was pissed at him. “Samuel, I can pay for Charlie’s bail tomorrow and mine once I have my next paycheck if that’s all right with you?” Rylee figured if they covered all of the awkward discussions now, he could get away easier when they parked.
The couple’s shared tension was easy enough to spot; the moment Rylee spoke again Samuel knew his intent, and understood well enough why he would want to flee the scene. Though Samuel knew Rylee’s actions had been well deserved, and even the punishment thereof nothing for which to feel ashamed, he also knew it remained something in a way intensely private: Until he and Charlie could talk it out on their own, it was yet a raw wound, painfully open to Samuel’s outside view. And so he nodded, resolving to slip away as quickly as he could. Later he could tease and pick; later they might joke about it together. Later, but not now.
“Yeah,” he said, realizing his subtle nod might not have carried well. “Whenever you can.” He looked again into the rear view mirror, letting his puckish smile show in his eyes. “If you’d rather I’d accept the interest on hers in the form of whiskey, just so you know.”
“Can pay my own fuckin’...” Charlie sneered under her breath, sounding petulant above anything else. But the sentence died stillborn and incomplete, the realization that, for whatever reason, paying Charlie’s bail might make Rylee feel better regarding the complete nose dive of the evening. Still, she resolved to get the money out of her bank account and either try to slip it into his wallet without him seeing or just force it on him, because Charlie had never been someone who cared for others taking care of her. And bail was always a ridiculous amount, she couldn’t let him pay that on his own, not when she’d put up just as much of a fight as he had.
Not soon enough, Sam’s truck pulled into the parking lot of Pax and Charlie’s hand was on the door, all too ready to spring it open and stalk off to her apartment, where there wouldn’t be anyone to pry or poke or make her wear a dress.
Rylee frowned and looked desperately at the apartment complex, thankful to see the building and wanted to disappear deep within it, not to reemerge until he had to. He had almost smiled at Samuel’s comment, almost, but despite his dreary expression he appreciated that Samuel was trying to make the delicate situation a little better. “Expect some whiskey coming your way then,” Rylee said quietly with a nod. With the truck in park, Rylee slipped out of it and offered a hand to Charlie, ready to help her down, even though he was prepared to have her blow him off and trying hard not to let it hurt his pride. He looked past Charlie at Samuel and gave a nod. “Thank you again, Samuel. Hopefully I won’t be calling you for such favors in the future.”
Samuel waved off the gratitude, uncertain how else to respond. So instead he merely exited as they did, stepping out of the cab and directly down onto the pavement. The moment they were clear of the doors (Charlie slamming hers a bit harder than necessary), his horn sounded the setting of the alarm, locks slamming home in the same instant.
“Think I’m gonna take the stairs,” he said, circling the truck’s broad chrome grille. “You two try not to kill anybody between here and the door. Sound good?”
If she’d been in a better mood, Charlie would have quipped back with something half-assed and potentially stupid, but that wasn’t happening tonight. No, the instant her bare feet hit the cold pavement of the Pax Letale parking lot, she hurried toward the building and her apartment, where she’d be able to change out of her currently considered pathetic outfit into something more comfortable and less revealing. She was much too embarrassed and pissed to say anything to either Rylee or Sam, and thought the better option was simply stalking off into the building, putting as much distance between her and this evening as possible. The least important thing to her was to thank Samuel for driving out to the police station and freeing them from their errant adventure; in her mind, he was lucky she hadn’t put the other spike of her heel through his face.
Rylee followed suit, the two men watching the fleeting form of the smaller woman disappear into the building. The blond heaved a sigh before trudging in with his friend, the two taking the elevator for a long ride up.