[When he wakes up, it's to Art's mocking laughter and the declaration that next time there's a little teenage side-dish to pick up on the way back from important work, he'll have Rachel do it.
You know, Raylan, someone reliable. Someone who doesn't end up shooting people every time she takes a road trip, or losing fugitives every time she gets distracted.
Raylan doesn't bother pointing out he wasn't distracted so much as drugged, or that Art isn't exactly being fair, because it's not like the latter has never happened before.
Bullshit. One giant pile of bullshit, courtesy of a teenage hellion in wolf's clothing.
As soon as he's discharged, he takes a week off, locking himself in his motel room and waiting to see what happens. There's an unhealthy amount of Jim Beam keeping him company, and when the full moon comes and goes without incident... Well. It gets a little easier to believe that the whole mess was one very unpleasant hallucination. Until the paperwork and the photographs of wolves in shredded t-shirts, anyway.
He's busy staring at one of those photographs, sitting at his desk and trying to get his head around the idea of werewolves existing in the world. It's not working so well. His phone gives a little buzz and he picks it up, frowning at the unrecognized number, and skips to his text inbox.]
It'd taken Lia the better part of a week to get back to sand and sky and those little tourist-bait cacti in a pot they sold at roadside stands. Soon as she sets herself up in a new town - going by Teresa Maly and working at the Scaled Back Eatery (nice place, lizard motif, decent tips) - she buys the cheapest, prepaid cell phone she can find. The day after her little 'camping trip' is over is spent trying to figure out the best way to pose the big question.
She types out the message once it hits her and presses SEND.
its ten oclock the day after the full moon - do u know where ur werewolves are_
[Raylan gets himself some coffee. He has lunch, checks in with Winona, fills out some paperwork. Gets the afternoon coffee for the office and does some more paperwork. As it's getting on toward evening, he pulls his phone out and contemplates the text.]
[It takes long enough for him to reply that Lia runs through a whole number of possibilities.
Maybe she copied down the number wrong - in which case she's just gone and totally confused a random person. Maybe he traded in his cell phone for a truck - ...what, it's the South, it could happen. Maybe he'd died in the hospital - but he'd seemed okay enough and the doctors weren't all up in his business. Maybe he'd turned anyway and gotten shot by all the crazy gun-toting redne- okay, not considering that.
By the time she actually gets a quiet bzz bzz, she's actually maybe getting kind of worried about things. It all flies out the window at the smartass remark because hey, she's already claimed that responsibility here. No one else gets to snark but her.]
didnt know they moved that shit to kentucky. watch out 4 probes
[He's kicked back at his desk now as the others head out, waving them on even though tonight's supposed to be the night they go to the local bar for a game of cards and a round of drinks.]
fairly certain i won't be watching if it should come to that. its lia isn't it?
[She's camped out on the back steps of the diner - shift's well over, but s'not like there's anywhere else to go in this tiny town.
When she gets the text there's a very loud 'SHITBALLS' that makes a few heads in the kitchen turn (though she wouldn't be surprised if it could be heard all the way in Kentucky). Her own reply occurs about ten minutes later after she's gotten some pacing and fretting and nail biting out of the way.]
wtf are u talking about
[NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC WOULD LIKE TO TAKE THIS TIME TO INFORM YOU THAT THE NILE RIVER HAS JUST BEEN RELOCATED TO AN OUT OF THE WAY CORNER OF ARIZONA IN THE UNITED STATES. STAY TUNED FOR FURTHER UPDATES.]
Lia just sits there staring at her phone for a good long while. At least that was another fact confirmed on her list of were-trivia - soon as she thinks that, she grimaces at herself. There might be some road map juggling happening in her head as she tries to figure out the fastest way back to Kentucky, assuming that she can find a ride heading back east.
Course, none of this introspection is actually answering the guy. But what do you even say to finding out somebody's stuck for the rest of their life turning into a big bad wolf three nights a month.]
[Waiting for the text back, Lia's fidgeting and pacing and trying to run logistics of packing up so soon after getting here. When she does go and get it... There's some more staring.
Then there's a hell of a throw as she hurls the stupid phone as hard as she can into the scrub. She's super tempted to leave it there, despite having paid good money for it.
She hears the default ringtone singing out and stands there, glaring at the sound - arms crossed and scowling up a storm. Then she jogs out to where she's pinpointed it coming from (it takes a bit given she's got a really good arm) and picks it up with a snarl.]
That was not fucking funny, you goddamned shitkicking jackass! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!
You know, Raylan, someone reliable. Someone who doesn't end up shooting people every time she takes a road trip, or losing fugitives every time she gets distracted.
Raylan doesn't bother pointing out he wasn't distracted so much as drugged, or that Art isn't exactly being fair, because it's not like the latter has never happened before.
Bullshit. One giant pile of bullshit, courtesy of a teenage hellion in wolf's clothing.
As soon as he's discharged, he takes a week off, locking himself in his motel room and waiting to see what happens. There's an unhealthy amount of Jim Beam keeping him company, and when the full moon comes and goes without incident... Well. It gets a little easier to believe that the whole mess was one very unpleasant hallucination. Until the paperwork and the photographs of wolves in shredded t-shirts, anyway.
He's busy staring at one of those photographs, sitting at his desk and trying to get his head around the idea of werewolves existing in the world. It's not working so well. His phone gives a little buzz and he picks it up, frowning at the unrecognized number, and skips to his text inbox.]
Reply
She types out the message once it hits her and presses SEND.
its ten oclock the day after the full moon - do u know where ur werewolves are_
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Area 51
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Maybe she copied down the number wrong - in which case she's just gone and totally confused a random person. Maybe he traded in his cell phone for a truck - ...what, it's the South, it could happen. Maybe he'd died in the hospital - but he'd seemed okay enough and the doctors weren't all up in his business. Maybe he'd turned anyway and gotten shot by all the crazy gun-toting redne- okay, not considering that.
By the time she actually gets a quiet bzz bzz, she's actually maybe getting kind of worried about things. It all flies out the window at the smartass remark because hey, she's already claimed that responsibility here. No one else gets to snark but her.]
didnt know they moved that shit to kentucky. watch out 4 probes
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fairly certain i won't be watching if it should come to that. its lia isn't it?
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When she gets the text there's a very loud 'SHITBALLS' that makes a few heads in the kitchen turn (though she wouldn't be surprised if it could be heard all the way in Kentucky). Her own reply occurs about ten minutes later after she's gotten some pacing and fretting and nail biting out of the way.]
wtf are u talking about
[NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC WOULD LIKE TO TAKE THIS TIME TO INFORM YOU THAT THE NILE RIVER HAS JUST BEEN RELOCATED TO AN OUT OF THE WAY CORNER OF ARIZONA IN THE UNITED STATES. STAY TUNED FOR FURTHER UPDATES.]
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[He's smirking right now, Lia. You can't see it, but he is.]
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[She's not panicking. She is not panicking. She is not panicking.]
whatever
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[He has her file out now, and is flipping through it with the casual nature of someone who's already committed most of it to memory.]
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refer u back 2 whatever
[Then right after-]
so did u go all fuzzy or what
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as a matter of fact i did.
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Lia just sits there staring at her phone for a good long while. At least that was another fact confirmed on her list of were-trivia - soon as she thinks that, she grimaces at herself. There might be some road map juggling happening in her head as she tries to figure out the fastest way back to Kentucky, assuming that she can find a ride heading back east.
Course, none of this introspection is actually answering the guy. But what do you even say to finding out somebody's stuck for the rest of their life turning into a big bad wolf three nights a month.]
sorry
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[He sighs and hits the 'dial' button after sending the text. His irritation is more or less worn through at this point.
He listens to the ringing patiently and hopes she picks up.]
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Then there's a hell of a throw as she hurls the stupid phone as hard as she can into the scrub. She's super tempted to leave it there, despite having paid good money for it.
She hears the default ringtone singing out and stands there, glaring at the sound - arms crossed and scowling up a storm. Then she jogs out to where she's pinpointed it coming from (it takes a bit given she's got a really good arm) and picks it up with a snarl.]
That was not fucking funny, you goddamned shitkicking jackass! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!
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