Title: New Guy
Pairing/Characters: Larry Dimick, Nice Guy Eddie, 'Mr. Blue', 'Mr. Brown', 'Mr. Pink', Vic Vega, Big Joe, Freddie Newandyke; N/A
Rating: PG
Fandom: Reservoir Dogs
Word Count: 1,105
Spoilers: None, really
Summary: Big Joe assigns Larry a new partner, finally.
Notes/Warnings: Written for
au_bingo for the prompt Historical: 1920's. Beta by
unicorn_catcher and
umbralillium.
New Guy
"Dimick!" 'Nice Guy' Eddie's voice carried over the multiple layers of conversation filling the speakeasy, reaching the ears of his intended target.
Larry Dimick didn't look up from his cards; too busy cleaning out his opponents to respond immediately. "What'll it be, Blue Eyes: raise, call, or fold?"
"Fuck this shit, I fold," John 'Blue Eyes' Washburn threw his cards onto the table with an annoyed grunt, re-lighting his cigar.
Taking a last drag on his cigarette, Larry turned his attention to the next guy, "How about you, Little Boy Brown?"
"Hey, how many times've I told you not to call me that?" Henry Brown demanded, gesturing with his cigarette.
The man next to him snorted, tossing back his drink. "Give it up, Brown. He'll call you whatever he damn well pleases."
"Raise, call, or fold, Brown?" Larry demanded, lighting up another cigarette. "Some of us haven't got all night, you know."
Henry tossed his cards on the table and sat back in his chair. "I fold."
"About damn time," Larry drew in a lungful of smoke and let it out on a sigh. "And you, Pinkie? Raise, call, or fold?"
Thomas Finder hid a wince at the reference to the fact that he'd lost his left pinkie on his first job for 'Big Joe' Cabot. Instead, he tossed his cards on the table. "I fold, too."
"The pot's mine, then." Larry gathered all the cash in the middle of the table to himself, counting it up and tucking it inside his suit coat. "Thanks, boys."
As he got up to go, John reached for his arm. "Hey, show us your hand, at least."
"My pleasure." Smirking, Larry tossed his cards face up onto the table.
The other three men stared at the cards as Larry walked over to Eddie. "That bastard bluffed us with a pair of fucking twos?"
"They never learn, do they?" Eddie asked once Larry reached him.
Shrugging as he took a drag on his cigarette, Larry asked, "What's going on, Eddie?"
"Big Joe wants to see you," The young man gestured for Larry to follow him into the back area. Lounging in one of the chairs in the outer office, 'Ice Cool' Victor Vega idly cleaned his nails with his pocketknife.
Larry eyed Victor warily. He'd taken an instant dislike to the young man from the moment they met. For his part, the brunette smirked and saluted with the pocket knife when he saw Larry watching him. Either Eddie hadn't noticed the byplay or he'd ignored it because he'd crossed to the door to Big Joe's office and knocked. A gravelly voice asked from the other side, "What?"
"Dimick's here, Pop," Eddie called through the door.
"Send him in, then." Joe sounded impatient.
Nodding, Eddie opened the door and stepped aside so Larry could enter. The older man did, walking directly to the desk where his old friend stood up to offer his hand in greeting. "Hey, Joe."
"Hey, Larry." Big Joe waved his hand once Larry released it. "This is Freddie Newandyke. Freddie, Larry Dimick."
Larry turned in the direction Joe had indicated and couldn't help staring at the young man in front of him. Newandyke couldn't have been much older than twenty. Fine blond hair was combed back from delicate features, blue eyes that were far too innocent meeting Larry's. "Hello, Mr. Dimick. It's nice to meet you."
"Hi, Kid." Larry briefly shook Newandyke's hand, and then turned back to Big Joe. "Hey, Joe, what gives?"
Big Joe took his time answering, choosing a Cuban cigar, snipping it, and lighting it. Once he'd taken a long drag and let it out, he finally answered, "I want you to show Freddie the ropes."
"Wait, you're finally giving me a new partner and he's a goddamn pup?" Larry demanded, planting his hands on Big Joe's desk and leaning over it to glare at his friend.
The other man levered himself out of his chair. He wasn't called Big Joe for nothing. He was taller than Larry and broader. "Either Newandyke's your new partner, or you go for a swim with the fishes. Do I make myself clear, Dimick?"
"Yes, Joe," Larry grumbled, reluctantly straightening up and stepping back.
Big Joe grunted, sitting back down with a grunt. "Good. Now get out of my sight."
"Come on, Kid." Larry turned on his heel and exited the office, not even looking to see if the kid was following.
Neither of them said a word until they were on the street outside the café that was the front for Big Joe's speakeasy. "I'm sorry to cause you any trouble, Mr. Dimick."
"Look, Kid, there's two things you gotta know." He barely glanced at the boy, flicking away his cigarette and immediately pulling out two more. "We never apologize. For anything. Two, since we're gonna be partners, just call me Larry." Sticking one cigarette in his mouth, he offered the other one to his 'partner'. When Newandyke didn't immediately take it, Larry looked at him properly. "It's just a cigarette, Kid. It's not gonna bite."
Wide blue eyes flicked from the cigarette to Larry's and back again. "I've never smoked."
"At your age, you've never smoked?" Larry challenged. "What, did you grow up under a rock?"
Newandyke shrugged, looking down at the ground. "Never had one offered to me before."
"And you never tried to steal any?" He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Most kids his age had at least shoplifted.
The kid lifted his head to gaze defiantly at Larry. "I'm not a criminal."
"I hate to break it to you, Kid, but you are now." Larry sighed and grabbed the kid's arm, almost dragging him over to where he'd parked his car. "Or do you not know what kind of business Big Joe runs?"
Newandyke seemed to deflate as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car. "I know. Pops owed Big Joe money and sold me to make up the debt."
"That explains why you're so fresh-faced and innocent," Larry muttered as he moved around to the driver's side. Climbing behind the wheel, he told the kid. "You've got a lot to learn and Big Joe decided I'm your teacher. Any questions?"
After Larry had started the car and pulled into traffic, Newandyke asked, "How do I get out of the business?"
"Get yourself killed or start running and never stop," he answered promptly. "You're stuck now, Kid. Might as well make the best of it."
The kid sighed and slumped back in his seat. Larry just barely heard him mutter, "Thanks a lot, Pops."
End