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Danny Ketch (heavensfool) wrote in wariscoming,

Her wish. Oh, thank god! Danny wasn't going to have to be responsible for anything. The last thing he needed was the pressure of trying to fix whatever went wrong before they were all swarmed by what-the-fuck-ever, especially since it was him and he'd just screw it up. "Good wish," was all he said, and it was more of a gruff grunt. He still had no clue what he was going to wish for, if anything. He knew Tess had wished to be able to see her son, and he knew it had worked for her...but he didn't want that. Oh, he wanted to see his kid. That wasn't the issue. The issue was that Danny Ketch wasn't a look-but-can't-touch kind of guy. Being able to see his kid all the time but being unable to interact, to play catch with his son or glare sternly at the boys that picked on his little daughter, would drive him insane, probably literally, and the last thing anyone needed was a nutty Spirit of Vengeance running around.

He supposed he could wish for a never-ending bottle of some expensive vodka. That would be nice. Pointless in the long run, as he'd discovered after giving up the booze. It really was just a crutch, because after Jess stopped him from his impromptu swan dive into the parking lot, he still felt just as horrible as he had the last forever or so. The funny thing was? He'd just replaced it with a different crutch. He felt like shit, he couldn't drink, so instead he'd lashed out at people and for awhile, he'd felt better. But just like the alcohol, it was only a temporary high.

When she said he looked like hell, he couldn't help but let out an amused snort. "Yeah, well, I ruled the joint once. So I guess it fits." His face visibly soured when she asked him what was wrong, and he was about to push away from the desk and finish his trek to the kitchen when she amended it. He relaxed against the desk again, searching her face to see if she was serious. She wanted to spend time with an unshaven drunk that looked like a bum and maybe should do some laundry in the near future?

While Danny was turning the idea over in his head, and completely without his knowledge, he glanced at the kitchen and swallowed convulsively. The booze was in there. The booze was a crutch, but goddamn was it a nice crutch. Better than being a dick to people, apparently. But Ruby was here being serious about hanging out, and some part of him desperately wanted that. Some part of him, buried under the crap of eleven years, missed having friends and loved ones like a junkie missed the needle.

He didn't quite smile. He wasn't up to that yet. But he nodded, and his voice was a little less dull when he said, "I guess I can't say no to a little carjacking." The decision made, he shifted on the desk so that he was looking at her and not the kitchen. "So what's the plan here? Just moving it around a little? Because as fun as the full Ferris Bueller joyride would be, I'm pretty sure he'd kill us both."