More bits from the verse
I've been writing like mad pretty much since NYE. I've also been writing in like five different fics, but they all sort of go in the same timeline so it's okay, I guess? I don't know, I sort of feel like Peter Jackson shooting all the LotR films at the same time.
Anyway since Oct-Dec were months of pretty much no-writing due to block/lack of desire/lack of ability/just plain lacking here are some bits from the new fic
From Play Me A Memory
“So, rumor has it you met a guy,” George Luz’s voice rang out in the empty Front Street Tavern.
Babe smashed his head on the door of the walk-in cooler in response. He stood up and glared at Luz.
“You know, it’s customary to make you presence known you enter a business, especially when we’re closed.”
“It’s not my fault you aren’t aware enough of your surroundings, Heffron,” he said.
Babe shook his head and stepped out from behind the bar. “How the hell you doing, Luz?” he asked, pulling his friend into a quick hug.
“Never better,” Luz said, swatting Babe on the ass before letting him go. “You got Bill all a-flutter with planning your big gay wedding.”
“He gets that from his Ma. Trust me, when he finally cons Fran into getting married, he’ll be the bridezilla.”
“He does look good in white,” George smiled. It was a typical Luz smile, they kind you couldn’t help but respond to in kind.
“How’s work?” Babe asked.
“Can’t complain. Nixon’s got us chasing leads on some new explosive for the military. He keeps sending us to resorts though, so I don’t know what that’s about. Who am I to say anything against the boss? He signs my paychecks and I go where he sends me.”
“At least you’re not having to prepare for the masses on Saint Patrick’s Day.”
“In that, I do not even you, my beer dealing friend.” Luz picked up one of the cardboard coasters and twirled it between his fingers. “So, this guy.”
“Jesus, Luz, leave it alone,” Babe said. He threw the dish rag over his shoulder and got back behind the bar.
“Can’t do that. Your last relationship was close to being a matter of national security. None of us want a repeat of that one.”
“He’s not an assassin or a spy. He’s a doctor.”
Luz nodded. “You’d make a good doctor’s wife. I can see you shilling the bake goods at all the functions.”
“Fuck you.”
“Sorry, Babe, you’re not my type. I know it’ll be hard to move on, but I’m sure you can find someone else.”
Babe leaned over the bar. “Remind me again why I don’t tell Ron about your weekend with Lipton?”
“Because you are a good and loyal friend who knows that what I have with Lipton is only pure and innocent.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“Your living mother’s grave?” Babe asked.
“She already has the plot reserved.”
“Luz,” Babe warned, threatening him with the soda gun.
“I’m not going to let up until you at least give me the guy’s name.”
“Fine,” Babe said. He popped a coke down in front of Luz. “Roe. Gene Roe. And do not do the background search, please. I’m freaked out enough over Bill knowing him from Afghanistan.”
“He was in Afghanistan?”
“Yeah, Bill said something with a mercy mission or some shit. I don’t know. I haven’t asked Gene about it yet, not something you bring up in casual conversation, you know? ‘So, tell me what you’re wearing and what you did that one time you worked in a war zone.’ It just doesn’t sit right.”
Luz nodded and leaned over the bar, rooting around for some pretzels. Babe smacked his hand before opening one of the packs and pouring it in a bowl.
“So,” Luz said with his handful of pretzel sticks, “if Bill knows him, then Ron must know him too.”
Babe paused in his wiping down of the taps. “I did not need to think about that.”
“I’m just saying. National security.”
“Luz, please stop.”
******
From Where Everybody Knows Your Name
Ron set them up in some old club outside of Durham. It had a Best of the 80s décor and track lighting, but at the very least there was a full-working bar. Babe didn’t know who Ron bribed at the ABC board to get all the alcohol and liquor, and the man must’ve stolen an Anheuser-Busch truck for all the beer, but they really did have everything they needed to learn.
Of course, it would help if the kid Janovec could get his head out of his ass and actually listen to what Babe was trying to tell him.
There was a whole array of mixed drinks on the bar, looking picture perfect but tasting like shit. Babe didn’t know where to start first, the fact that every college kid usually knew how to make a decent screwdriver or that no one in hell anyone in the dive bar Janovec was supposed to work in would order an apple martini.
Babe had his head in his hands when he starting to go off. “Let me guess, you just thought you had to pull a few taps, put out a few bowls of pretzels, and that’s it?” He put his hands down and looked at Janovec’s smug smile.
Babe stood up and leaned over the bar. “Don’t insult the position, Janovec,” he growled. “It takes a long-ass time to become a good, knowledgeable bartender and most of us are in this business for far too long. You have to duke it out for the good shifts, the ones with the best chance for tipping which is where your paycheck comes from. All these little test-runs we’ll be doing, you’re taking away someone’s good shift. You’re overthrowing the system. You’re probably costing some poor schmuck their rent. Spare me the whiny crap about not getting to deal with some arms dealers in Eastern Russia and show some goddamn sense. I’m taking time off of my jobs and my school to come down and help you with a skills you’re going to be using a lot more in this job than any how-to on
bazookas. You got me?”
“Yeah, Heffron, I got you,” Janovec griped. “I was getting along just fine with the New York Bartender’s Guide,” he said.
Babe sat down. He did not have the fucking patience for this. “John,
believe it or not, a lot of bartending cannot be learned out of a book. Half the time it’s not even about your ability to mix drinks, but your ability to relate to people. You’re working at dive bars, not downtown’s next big thing. Sorry to ruin your Coyote Ugly dreams. We’re talking about places that don’t use shiny new gimmicks to get people in the door. Their clientele put just enough asses on the stools to break even. That’s the point.”
“You’re not a fan of clubs, are you?”
“I think they’re a fucking travesty to the sacred name of a bar.”
“Noted.” Janovec placed a new drink down in front of him.
Babe glared at the glass. “Janovec, my five year old niece can make a Shirley Temple. That’s not an achievement.”
“Don’t make me backslide, Heffron,” Janovec tried to joke.
“Try to live dangerously and make a mojito.”
“You’re not very good at motivating my desire to learn.”
“Do you want to piss off Speirs?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then that’s enough motivation for you. You don’t learn how to do this convincingly enough, you’ll blow the job, lose Speirs his intel, his connections, and his contract, and have to deal with Chuckles being a smug bastard on top of all of that. So ask yourself, John, would you rather have all that shit hanging over your head or would you rather shut up, pay attention, and try to let me show you how to do my job? I’ve been working in dive bars since I was fourteen and I grew-up in them with my dad, grandpa, and uncles. Why don’t you try to learn from me and my actual lifetime of experience?”
Janovec nodded, finally getting the point. “Okay, Heffron, let’s do this.”
***********
From While We Have The Sun
“This could potentially be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done,” Julian said from his place on Babe’s bed.
“Or it could be one of the best decisions of his life,” Bill argued. He had three of Babe’s suitcases set out on the floor and was methodically packing for the three month trip.
“I am right here,” Babe pointed out. He was by the one outlet in his apartment, charging every portable electronic he had and going over lists in his head. Three months was a long time.
Especially when he had no fucking clue about what his destination actually had. There were no guide books for St. Boniface, Louisiana. Or St. Martin Parish. Or hell, even Lafayette which, from what Gene told him, was the closest big city. Babe couldn’t even find the place on a map he picked up from the bookstore. It was like friggin’ Brigadoon or something. Bill assured him the place did exist, there were paid tax forms coming out of it for one, and that Ron Speirs had slept there, but sometimes Ron said stuff like that just for shits and giggles.
“What if this guy abducts Babe and Spina and harvests their organs in some trailer in the woods?” Julian asked. “You won’t be feeling so happy then, will you Bill?”
“Christ, Julian, don’t talk about Gene that way. That’s really fucking insulting compared to what he actually does,” Babe said.
“What he allegedly does. You don’t even know if this ‘Free Clinic’ exists.”
“Spina does, considering he’s now on its employee payroll and I do know Gene practices medicine,” Babe argued.
Julian shrugged. “What can I say? I never met the guy, so I can’t judge.”
“You could’ve met him, but you were sleeping.”
“And why hasn’t he been up here?” Julian asked. “He could go to Raleigh to see Ron, but he can’t come here to see you? He too good for Pennsport?”
“He was in Raleigh for a work conference in Durham and he doesn’t have a lot of free time. I want to wear him down and coach him before bringing him up here. No one should be unleashed on our families unprepared.”
Bill laughed at that, his trademark sound something Babe always missed when he was gone. It sucked that they were all splitting apart right now. Even Julian had plans for the summer, staying in Queens with one of his cousins and checking out the auto body shops there.
*******
From Down This Way Before
“The only part of my past I owe you, Edward, is my sexual history. Everything else you got to earn,” Gene said.
Babe could agree with that, but still, it’s not like they were strangers and this was some serious shit. It got to Gene all the time.
“Yeah, well, some things you should tell people from the get go, Gene. Like, oh, by the way, I sort of poisoned people this one time because the government told me to.”
Gene’s eyes flashed with a level of anger Babe couldn’t even imagine. “Don’t talk about what you don’t know,” he said, low and cold.
“Carwood gave me the file, Gene,” he explained.
“Carwood wasn’t there, wasn’t on the committee, and sure as hell doesn’t know the truth.” Gene shook his head. “You so desperate to know things, Edward, you call up Ron and let him tell you the facts of my youth. But you best make sure this is a path you want to go down, Heffron, because there ain’t no turning back once you open the doors. Make sure you can rest with that ‘cause I ain’t going to tell you. Not like this, not being forced into it. I’ve done a hell of a lot I ain’t proud of, and I’ve been trying to pay my penance ever since. I ain’t saying a man’s past don’t matter, but you got to decide what matters more. What I did when I was seventeen year old kid, or what’ve done since then.” With that Gene stood up from the table, throwing down some money. “You let me know when and what you decide.”
“Gene,” Babe said.
“I don’t stay where I’m not wanted and I don’t drag people down my path who don’t want to be there. Life’s too short, Babe, and I won’t spend mine with someone who’ll always doubt me. So, you do what you need to. You know where to find me.”
Babe sort of froze in shock. “What the actual fuck?” he asked out loud. He shook his head and got up, chasing after Gene. He waved off Remy, who looked ready to bolt after the both of them.
“Gene,” he yelled, watching him stomp off down the street.
Either Gene was ignoring him or took caught up in his own mind to hear him. Babe was never more thankful for that time Bill made them join the track team. Thank god he still remembered how to sprint.
“Eugene, for fuck’s sake, stop,” Babe said. He latched on to his arm and pulled him back, ducking into the alley between the library and Mindy’s Fabrics and Yarn. Gene looked ready for a fight. His body was wound tighter than Babe had ever seen and there was all kinds of fury in his eyes.
“You are going to let me finish,” Babe said. “You’re going to let me finish because I a middle child who really fucking hates it when people don’t let me finish my sentences and make assumptions about my behaviors. You’re going to let me finish because at the rate you’re going, that hand of yours is going to meet with a brick wall and the lovely people of St. Boniface can’t afford for their doctor to be out of commission, okay?”
Gene nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Okay, my last boyfriend, the smug bastard asshole who-must-not-be-named? He actually killed people for a living. He said he did for the flag or whatthefuckever, but at the end of the day, he took out contracts from the government and private companies and citizens to kill people. He didn’t do it in the name of science or healthcare. He didn’t do it because he was some eighteen-year-old who didn’t know any better. He sure as hell never turned down the money for his jobs. Rob was an asshole, is an asshole, will always be an asshole who cares more about his job than the people in his life. And not in a good way. Not in a dedicated to saving lives way but in a ‘I’m sorry I missed your birthday but I had tickets to the Knicks’ way. And who the fuck blows off their boyfriend’s birthday for the Knicks?”
Babe shook his head. “Anyway, my point is, I’m not exactly Mr. Clean over here, okay? I’ve worked with mob bosses and helped facilitate more than one shady underground deal and I did it willingly and with full knowledge. Seriously, let Bill tell you what I got up to in Delaware one time. It’s how I met Nix. I didn’t come down here to confront you or accuse you, I came down to let you know that I know. And I don’t know all of it, I got the outsider civilian look, but I know enough to get the gist and just.”
He held onto Gene’s first, forcing the hand out flat and entwining their fingers. “I can listen, okay. I can’t help, I can’t make it better, I can’t undo what you did, but I can listen. And I’m not just going to turn my back on you. It make me one hell of a hypocrite and that’s one thing I try not to be in life.”
Anyway since Oct-Dec were months of pretty much no-writing due to block/lack of desire/lack of ability/just plain lacking here are some bits from the new fic
From Play Me A Memory
“So, rumor has it you met a guy,” George Luz’s voice rang out in the empty Front Street Tavern.
Babe smashed his head on the door of the walk-in cooler in response. He stood up and glared at Luz.
“You know, it’s customary to make you presence known you enter a business, especially when we’re closed.”
“It’s not my fault you aren’t aware enough of your surroundings, Heffron,” he said.
Babe shook his head and stepped out from behind the bar. “How the hell you doing, Luz?” he asked, pulling his friend into a quick hug.
“Never better,” Luz said, swatting Babe on the ass before letting him go. “You got Bill all a-flutter with planning your big gay wedding.”
“He gets that from his Ma. Trust me, when he finally cons Fran into getting married, he’ll be the bridezilla.”
“He does look good in white,” George smiled. It was a typical Luz smile, they kind you couldn’t help but respond to in kind.
“How’s work?” Babe asked.
“Can’t complain. Nixon’s got us chasing leads on some new explosive for the military. He keeps sending us to resorts though, so I don’t know what that’s about. Who am I to say anything against the boss? He signs my paychecks and I go where he sends me.”
“At least you’re not having to prepare for the masses on Saint Patrick’s Day.”
“In that, I do not even you, my beer dealing friend.” Luz picked up one of the cardboard coasters and twirled it between his fingers. “So, this guy.”
“Jesus, Luz, leave it alone,” Babe said. He threw the dish rag over his shoulder and got back behind the bar.
“Can’t do that. Your last relationship was close to being a matter of national security. None of us want a repeat of that one.”
“He’s not an assassin or a spy. He’s a doctor.”
Luz nodded. “You’d make a good doctor’s wife. I can see you shilling the bake goods at all the functions.”
“Fuck you.”
“Sorry, Babe, you’re not my type. I know it’ll be hard to move on, but I’m sure you can find someone else.”
Babe leaned over the bar. “Remind me again why I don’t tell Ron about your weekend with Lipton?”
“Because you are a good and loyal friend who knows that what I have with Lipton is only pure and innocent.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“Your living mother’s grave?” Babe asked.
“She already has the plot reserved.”
“Luz,” Babe warned, threatening him with the soda gun.
“I’m not going to let up until you at least give me the guy’s name.”
“Fine,” Babe said. He popped a coke down in front of Luz. “Roe. Gene Roe. And do not do the background search, please. I’m freaked out enough over Bill knowing him from Afghanistan.”
“He was in Afghanistan?”
“Yeah, Bill said something with a mercy mission or some shit. I don’t know. I haven’t asked Gene about it yet, not something you bring up in casual conversation, you know? ‘So, tell me what you’re wearing and what you did that one time you worked in a war zone.’ It just doesn’t sit right.”
Luz nodded and leaned over the bar, rooting around for some pretzels. Babe smacked his hand before opening one of the packs and pouring it in a bowl.
“So,” Luz said with his handful of pretzel sticks, “if Bill knows him, then Ron must know him too.”
Babe paused in his wiping down of the taps. “I did not need to think about that.”
“I’m just saying. National security.”
“Luz, please stop.”
******
From Where Everybody Knows Your Name
Ron set them up in some old club outside of Durham. It had a Best of the 80s décor and track lighting, but at the very least there was a full-working bar. Babe didn’t know who Ron bribed at the ABC board to get all the alcohol and liquor, and the man must’ve stolen an Anheuser-Busch truck for all the beer, but they really did have everything they needed to learn.
Of course, it would help if the kid Janovec could get his head out of his ass and actually listen to what Babe was trying to tell him.
There was a whole array of mixed drinks on the bar, looking picture perfect but tasting like shit. Babe didn’t know where to start first, the fact that every college kid usually knew how to make a decent screwdriver or that no one in hell anyone in the dive bar Janovec was supposed to work in would order an apple martini.
Babe had his head in his hands when he starting to go off. “Let me guess, you just thought you had to pull a few taps, put out a few bowls of pretzels, and that’s it?” He put his hands down and looked at Janovec’s smug smile.
Babe stood up and leaned over the bar. “Don’t insult the position, Janovec,” he growled. “It takes a long-ass time to become a good, knowledgeable bartender and most of us are in this business for far too long. You have to duke it out for the good shifts, the ones with the best chance for tipping which is where your paycheck comes from. All these little test-runs we’ll be doing, you’re taking away someone’s good shift. You’re overthrowing the system. You’re probably costing some poor schmuck their rent. Spare me the whiny crap about not getting to deal with some arms dealers in Eastern Russia and show some goddamn sense. I’m taking time off of my jobs and my school to come down and help you with a skills you’re going to be using a lot more in this job than any how-to on
bazookas. You got me?”
“Yeah, Heffron, I got you,” Janovec griped. “I was getting along just fine with the New York Bartender’s Guide,” he said.
Babe sat down. He did not have the fucking patience for this. “John,
believe it or not, a lot of bartending cannot be learned out of a book. Half the time it’s not even about your ability to mix drinks, but your ability to relate to people. You’re working at dive bars, not downtown’s next big thing. Sorry to ruin your Coyote Ugly dreams. We’re talking about places that don’t use shiny new gimmicks to get people in the door. Their clientele put just enough asses on the stools to break even. That’s the point.”
“You’re not a fan of clubs, are you?”
“I think they’re a fucking travesty to the sacred name of a bar.”
“Noted.” Janovec placed a new drink down in front of him.
Babe glared at the glass. “Janovec, my five year old niece can make a Shirley Temple. That’s not an achievement.”
“Don’t make me backslide, Heffron,” Janovec tried to joke.
“Try to live dangerously and make a mojito.”
“You’re not very good at motivating my desire to learn.”
“Do you want to piss off Speirs?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then that’s enough motivation for you. You don’t learn how to do this convincingly enough, you’ll blow the job, lose Speirs his intel, his connections, and his contract, and have to deal with Chuckles being a smug bastard on top of all of that. So ask yourself, John, would you rather have all that shit hanging over your head or would you rather shut up, pay attention, and try to let me show you how to do my job? I’ve been working in dive bars since I was fourteen and I grew-up in them with my dad, grandpa, and uncles. Why don’t you try to learn from me and my actual lifetime of experience?”
Janovec nodded, finally getting the point. “Okay, Heffron, let’s do this.”
***********
From While We Have The Sun
“This could potentially be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done,” Julian said from his place on Babe’s bed.
“Or it could be one of the best decisions of his life,” Bill argued. He had three of Babe’s suitcases set out on the floor and was methodically packing for the three month trip.
“I am right here,” Babe pointed out. He was by the one outlet in his apartment, charging every portable electronic he had and going over lists in his head. Three months was a long time.
Especially when he had no fucking clue about what his destination actually had. There were no guide books for St. Boniface, Louisiana. Or St. Martin Parish. Or hell, even Lafayette which, from what Gene told him, was the closest big city. Babe couldn’t even find the place on a map he picked up from the bookstore. It was like friggin’ Brigadoon or something. Bill assured him the place did exist, there were paid tax forms coming out of it for one, and that Ron Speirs had slept there, but sometimes Ron said stuff like that just for shits and giggles.
“What if this guy abducts Babe and Spina and harvests their organs in some trailer in the woods?” Julian asked. “You won’t be feeling so happy then, will you Bill?”
“Christ, Julian, don’t talk about Gene that way. That’s really fucking insulting compared to what he actually does,” Babe said.
“What he allegedly does. You don’t even know if this ‘Free Clinic’ exists.”
“Spina does, considering he’s now on its employee payroll and I do know Gene practices medicine,” Babe argued.
Julian shrugged. “What can I say? I never met the guy, so I can’t judge.”
“You could’ve met him, but you were sleeping.”
“And why hasn’t he been up here?” Julian asked. “He could go to Raleigh to see Ron, but he can’t come here to see you? He too good for Pennsport?”
“He was in Raleigh for a work conference in Durham and he doesn’t have a lot of free time. I want to wear him down and coach him before bringing him up here. No one should be unleashed on our families unprepared.”
Bill laughed at that, his trademark sound something Babe always missed when he was gone. It sucked that they were all splitting apart right now. Even Julian had plans for the summer, staying in Queens with one of his cousins and checking out the auto body shops there.
*******
From Down This Way Before
“The only part of my past I owe you, Edward, is my sexual history. Everything else you got to earn,” Gene said.
Babe could agree with that, but still, it’s not like they were strangers and this was some serious shit. It got to Gene all the time.
“Yeah, well, some things you should tell people from the get go, Gene. Like, oh, by the way, I sort of poisoned people this one time because the government told me to.”
Gene’s eyes flashed with a level of anger Babe couldn’t even imagine. “Don’t talk about what you don’t know,” he said, low and cold.
“Carwood gave me the file, Gene,” he explained.
“Carwood wasn’t there, wasn’t on the committee, and sure as hell doesn’t know the truth.” Gene shook his head. “You so desperate to know things, Edward, you call up Ron and let him tell you the facts of my youth. But you best make sure this is a path you want to go down, Heffron, because there ain’t no turning back once you open the doors. Make sure you can rest with that ‘cause I ain’t going to tell you. Not like this, not being forced into it. I’ve done a hell of a lot I ain’t proud of, and I’ve been trying to pay my penance ever since. I ain’t saying a man’s past don’t matter, but you got to decide what matters more. What I did when I was seventeen year old kid, or what’ve done since then.” With that Gene stood up from the table, throwing down some money. “You let me know when and what you decide.”
“Gene,” Babe said.
“I don’t stay where I’m not wanted and I don’t drag people down my path who don’t want to be there. Life’s too short, Babe, and I won’t spend mine with someone who’ll always doubt me. So, you do what you need to. You know where to find me.”
Babe sort of froze in shock. “What the actual fuck?” he asked out loud. He shook his head and got up, chasing after Gene. He waved off Remy, who looked ready to bolt after the both of them.
“Gene,” he yelled, watching him stomp off down the street.
Either Gene was ignoring him or took caught up in his own mind to hear him. Babe was never more thankful for that time Bill made them join the track team. Thank god he still remembered how to sprint.
“Eugene, for fuck’s sake, stop,” Babe said. He latched on to his arm and pulled him back, ducking into the alley between the library and Mindy’s Fabrics and Yarn. Gene looked ready for a fight. His body was wound tighter than Babe had ever seen and there was all kinds of fury in his eyes.
“You are going to let me finish,” Babe said. “You’re going to let me finish because I a middle child who really fucking hates it when people don’t let me finish my sentences and make assumptions about my behaviors. You’re going to let me finish because at the rate you’re going, that hand of yours is going to meet with a brick wall and the lovely people of St. Boniface can’t afford for their doctor to be out of commission, okay?”
Gene nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Okay, my last boyfriend, the smug bastard asshole who-must-not-be-named? He actually killed people for a living. He said he did for the flag or whatthefuckever, but at the end of the day, he took out contracts from the government and private companies and citizens to kill people. He didn’t do it in the name of science or healthcare. He didn’t do it because he was some eighteen-year-old who didn’t know any better. He sure as hell never turned down the money for his jobs. Rob was an asshole, is an asshole, will always be an asshole who cares more about his job than the people in his life. And not in a good way. Not in a dedicated to saving lives way but in a ‘I’m sorry I missed your birthday but I had tickets to the Knicks’ way. And who the fuck blows off their boyfriend’s birthday for the Knicks?”
Babe shook his head. “Anyway, my point is, I’m not exactly Mr. Clean over here, okay? I’ve worked with mob bosses and helped facilitate more than one shady underground deal and I did it willingly and with full knowledge. Seriously, let Bill tell you what I got up to in Delaware one time. It’s how I met Nix. I didn’t come down here to confront you or accuse you, I came down to let you know that I know. And I don’t know all of it, I got the outsider civilian look, but I know enough to get the gist and just.”
He held onto Gene’s first, forcing the hand out flat and entwining their fingers. “I can listen, okay. I can’t help, I can’t make it better, I can’t undo what you did, but I can listen. And I’m not just going to turn my back on you. It make me one hell of a hypocrite and that’s one thing I try not to be in life.”