Derek Miller (throughthemill) wrote in the_colony, @ 2010-06-16 21:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 09, derek miller, john james searle, | derek and searle |
Week Nine - Thursday afternoon
Characters: Derek and Searle
Location: Chicken coop building site
Summary: Searle spies on his construction competition
Rating: Automatic PG-13 for Derek's mouth (rated: Derek)
Apparently Derek had proven that he wasn't going to rob the group blind or kill them all because he was no longer being watched constantly when he was working. Sure, he was still escorted in and out but at least he didn't have anyone staring at him all the time. Well, at least for the most part. Derek had noticed the kid hanging around, lanky teenager type with dark hair. The boy hadn't said anything yet but he wasn't going away either. The skulking around was really fucking annoying. "What?" he said finally, looking up from his work to stare at the kid.
Searle stared back in obvious surprise. It wasn't as though he thought Derek couldn't see him hanging around, but he'd expected he would have able to make the first move.
"So ... you're Derek." Searle had hoped his first words to his competition would have been a bit cooler, but Derek's intimidating stare didn't help him think.
Derek wiped his hands on his jeans and reached for his bottle of water. "All my life." He had a drink before speaking again. "Is there something you wanted?"
"No, I'm just interested in what you're doing," Searle said, shifting in place. "I'm usually the one who builds stuff out here, so when Sam said she was asking you to come over I wondered how good you were."
"What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm building the chicken coop." What did the kid care about it? "Seeing how you didn't have anyone else, I'm good enough to get it done. Why so interested? This is between me and Sam, kid."
"I could have built it, it doesn't look that hard." Despite the bold words, Searle crossed his arms in front of himself defensively. "Why are you helping Sam out if you don't live here?"
"Because she's paying me." Derek rolled his eyes. "What's with the questions?"
"I want to know. Like I said, I usually do these kinds of jobs." Searle took a few steps closer, tilting his head to get a better look at the coop. "You were a carpenter?"
"I worked construction."
"Me too, with my dad. When I finished high school, that's what I was going to do."
"Good for you." Derek, of course, had worked his ass off to get out of construction only to have everything go to shit. "Doesn't mean you need to give me the third degree on why I'm here."
Searle quickly glanced away from the coop and Derek, his mouth stretching into a thin line. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "Do you need any help with it?"
Derek frowned down at the ground. "They're paying me to do this and I don't have time to make sure you don't fire a nail through your hand or cut one of your fingers off."
"Did you see the greenhouse?" Searle asked eagerly. "And the shadehouse? I built them. I wouldn't do something like that." He had hammered his fingers a couple times, but he wouldn't tell Derek that. "And they won't cut your pay."
The older man sighed. "What's your name?"
"Searle." He smiled, approaching Derek with his hand outstretched.
Derek's eyebrows rose at the kid's name but he didn't say anything. "How old are you, Searle?" he asked, shaking the boy's hand.
"Fifteen." Searle didn't step away from Derek once the shake was over, and the smile remained on his face. "I'm not a kid."
"Well, fifteen's almost sixteen and that's plenty old enough to do a man's day of work," Derek answered with a nod. He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket. "See this, here?" he asked, pointing at a section of the plans. "You want to cut those boards there," he jerked his head at the waiting lumber, "down to size?"
"Yeah." Though he tried to keep his tone level, Searle could barely contain his excitement as he studied the paper for the board measurements. "No problem." He stepped away from Derek and crossed the short distance to the supplies so he could grab a tape measure and get to work.
Derek had another drink of water before turning back to what he was working on. "Just remember they're not processing any more of that wood, so don't fuck it up."
Searle shot Derek a frown, but all he said was "I won't."