riptide_asylum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
riptide_asylum) wrote2009-12-14 05:55 pm
riptide_asylum) wrote2009-12-14 05:55 pm
Entry tags:
"Pink Is The Thing With Feathers" (Deep Water, 1982)
Title: Pink Is The Thing With Feathers
Rating: PG
Summary: There's so much wrong with Mimi, Cody doesn't know where to start. Luckily, he's got help with that.
The fiery red Vette squealed to a halt in front of the foreign slip and Nick had barely pulled the parking brake before he jumped out and trotted briskly through the archway. Cody exited the car more slowly, wondering if this was just like that time on base Hart slipped LSD into his coffee.
Nick bounded across the helipad, calling back over his shoulder, "So what d'you think, man? Isn't she a beauty? You wouldn't believe how cheap I got her."
"I probably wouldn't, Nick." Cody walked more slowly. The rusty pink monstrosity squatting by the water didn't get any less rusty or pink as he approached. In fact, glaring down at Cody was about the last thing he could imagine being suitable for tourists. As Nick launched into a tour of the chopper's many virtues, Cody stopped and stood with his hands on his hips, staring. "Hey Nick?"
Nick popped out from behind the tail section. "Yeah, babe?"
"You think maybe the price had anything to do with the fact that this helicopter is pink?"
Nick's face fell. "Aw come on, Cody, gimme a break."
"No, you come on. Who's gonna wanna ride in a pink helicopter, Nick? Name one person. Because apart from Barbie, buddy, I can't see who'd be interested." Cody returned to staring at the metal hulk creaking gently with the harbor breezes. He half feared the thing would fall on him if the wind picked up.
Nick came over to put a hand on his arm. "Now look, babe, look. Helicopters do not grow on trees, okay? And I know she might not be fresh off the rack, but I'll have you know this particular helicopter is pretty special. She's a Sikorsky S58-T, one of the first turbine models, used pretty heavily over in Nam--"
"Looks like she just got back from her tour." Cody rubbed at a trail of rust leading down from a rivethole missing its rivet. He squinted at his fingers, then hurriedly wiped his hand on his jeans.
Nick's brows lowered as he continued. "Which means two things. Number one, there's gotta be a ton of other 58's out of service, sitting around waiting to be parted out."
Cody squinted in confusion.
"Which means cheap parts, dummy. And number two, I know every square inch of this bird like the back of my hand, so if something goes wrong--"
One look at Nick's face, and Cody knew better than to correct his "if" to "when".
"If something goes wrong, I can fix it. You know I can." Nick glared. "Come on, man, this is it. This is our chopper."
Cody didn't say anything. He knew how much it meant to Nick to finally own his own helicopter. It'd been all the guy had talked about since they'd agreed to leave the MPs. He'd dragged Cody to the library countless times to pore over magazines and scan want ads from around the country while Cody flipped idly through Power Boating and Yachts!. Cody had gone with Nick to check out so many decommissioned choppers that he'd finally snapped one day and told the guy to just pick one. Any one. And this was the one he'd chosen. Cody opened his mouth to object again, but caught the look in Nick's eyes.
Nick had folded his arms across his chest and was staring intently up at the side of the chopper. Cody followed his gaze. There it was, in big red cursive letters: "The Screaming Mimi".
Memories flooded through Cody in a rush: a borrowed hour of wet air in Saigon, the smell of cigarettes, sex and ozone, the feel of rough cotton batting and Nick's skin, slick with sweat, his body wholly against Cody's own, for the first time. He kept those were memories closer than anything else, rarely indulging in them, in case the remembering somehow diminished their shine. Cody shivered. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it right from the start. He slung an arm round Nick's shoulders and pulled him close. "You're right, Nick," he said, contrite. "That's ours, buddy."
Nick looked into Cody's eyes and nodded, blinking back tears. Cody pulled Nick as close as he dared, then set about exploring their big pink rusty helicopter.
---
By the time they sat down for dinner in the round leather booth at Straightaway's, Cody had almost resigned himself to the idea, and could almost be cheerful about it. Except for one thing. "No one's gonna wanna ride in that cargo hold, Nick. It looks like a junkyard."
Nick stopped toying with his beer bottle and looked up sharply. "It's a little rugged in there, maybe." He shrugged. "So we'll spruce it up."
Cody smirked. "I'm not sure what's wrong in there's gonna be fixable with just a few fluffy cushions and a--and a nice lamp or something. I mean, Nick, what self-respecting girl's gonna want a tour where she gets engine grease all over her bikini, huh?"
"I can see you've given this some serious thought."
"Look, I'm just saying, the Mimi's appearance could use some work. Right now, she looks a little..." Cody snuck a look at Nick before finishing his sentence. "Disreputable."
"'Disreputable'? Did you just call my chopper 'disreputable'? Cody, I'll have you know, the Sikorskys are the most dependable birds out there. Not like your--your--your Helibras, or your Robinsons, or Revolutions. Bells are okay, but don't even get me started about the Swidniks. You do not want to get near a Swidnik."
Cody rolled his eyes. "Oh here we go," he muttered. He took a long swig of beer while Nick launched into the familiar spiel.
They were saved from the full 90-minute production by the timely appearance of Candi, their waitress. "Hey Table Three, what's shaking?"
Cody straightened up in his seat. "Hi Candi, it's good to see you. You're looking lovely this evening." He grinned, and ignored the snort from the other side of the booth. Nick had managed to get a couple dates with Candi, but so far Cody had struck out with her. Twice. Not that it really mattered--he snuck a look over at Nick, who smirked knowingly--but still. It rankled. "That's uh, that's a lovely wear you're lei'ing."
Candi giggled becomingly while Nick choked on his beer. "Oh Cody, you're so cute." She put a burger plate in front of each of them.
Cody leaned forwards. "I am?"
Tucking her now empty tray under one arm, Candi grabbed his nose between her knuckles and gave it a playful shake, wrinkling her own in return. "You are! That must be why those two girls from the Contessa were looking for you."
"Dey were?" Cody gently freed his nose, holding onto Candi's wrist. "They were?"
"Yup!" Candi freed her wrist with a businesslike twist. "Tammi and...oh, that other one. The brunette with the birthmark on her inner thigh. What's her name?" Candi squeezed her eyes shut and wrinkled her nose again.
This time both of them leaned forward. "Birthmark?" Nick asked.
Candi's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh. Oh. That was just--um, you know, after you've had a few, and--well, it's just---oh! Bambi! That's her name! Bambi!"
"No, Candi, I don't know," Nick said, "but I'd like to."
Candi giggled and punched Nick's shoulder. "Silly. Anyway, those two. They were in here earlier, looking for you two. I said I'd pass on the message if I saw you. And now I have!" She ruffled Nick's hair affectionately before turning to leave. "Enjoy your meal," she called over her shoulder.
The two of them watched her leave. As soon as she disappeared through the swinging doors to the kitchen, Cody said, "Birthmark?"
Nick shrugged, already nibbling a fry. "Beats me. But we should probably find out what the two of them want, in case it's important."
Cody pushed his fries away from his burger and nodded. "In case it involves this weekend."
Nick chewed rapidly. "Exactly. Or Mama Jo."
"Don't even say her name out loud, Nick. I think it might summon her, or something."
Nick gripped his burger with both hands and grinned. "Oh Cody," he said.
Cody glared. "Don't."
It was no use. "You're so cute." Nick took a big bite of burger and grinned, chewing happily.
Sighing, Cody salted his fries and tried to ignore Nick's giggles. Cute is good, he told himself, cute at least means she's thought about it. He resolutely refused to look across the table at his best friend, the guy who'd bought a flying pink dumpster with half their savings. The guy who'd taken out Candi. Twice. The guy who made his heart pound in his chest.
---
The argument about the Mimi resumed as soon as the food had been consumed and the check stashed on their tab. Striding amiably along the concrete promenade, Cody said, "Dirty. Dark. Oil-stained. Cramped--"
"Look, will you lighten up already? I was about to say 'rugged', okay? The Mimi's a little rugged, maybe. That's all. Doesn't mean she's not a good ship."
Cody shrugged down into his blue hoodie, shoulders hunched against the night chill coming off the water. A light in one of the live-aboards winked off as they passed. "Rugged, Nick?"
"Rugged."
"Maybe we can work that into the ad copy." Cody snuck a peek out from under his lashes and waited for the explosion.
Nick stopped cold in the middle of the promenade. "You know, Cody, that's exactly the type of--"
"Nick! Cody! Boy are we glad we ran into you two!" Tammy and Bambi, two of the all-girl crew of the Contessa came bounding up the promenade to meet them. All rational thought stopped while Cody watched the bounding.
"We've been looking everywhere for you guys!" Two of them or not, Bambi addressed her statement to Nick, while Cody's brain helpfully flashed: birthmark, birthmark, birthmark.
Nick shrugged and favored the petite brunette with a smile. "Well, everywhere's about where we've been. Isn't that right, big guy?" Nick looked over at Cody with a tease in his eyes. Wanna? they said.
Cody harumphed irritably into his mustache before recovering. "Everywhere." He tried to shrug expansively. "You know, all over the place."
Tammy regarded him curiously before flipping her hair back over her shoulders. "That's funny, because we thought we knew everywhere by now. Except..." She looked at her partner.
Bambi sidled closer to Nick. "We heard, you guys have a new toy."
"You did, huh?" Nick took advantage of the sidling. "What kind?"
"The kind that flies out to Fisherman's Island to watch the sunset while Mama Jo's visiting her aunt for the weekend?" Bambi trailed delicate fingers over one of Nick's biceps. Fisherman's Island was a minor outlying spit, really, one of the many many groupies clustered around the eight small islands hanging off the coast of California in the Santa Barbara Channel.
"Oh that kind," Nick responded. "I might know something about that kind of toy."
Bambi giggled and snuggled closer. "I thought you might."
"I'll bet." Nick was now close enough to Bambi that he could have reported back on the inner thigh situation if he chose, and in a flash, Cody pictured the writing on the side of Nick's chopper. The Screaming Mimi. Mimi. Saigon. Nick.
Cody cleared his throat nervously. "Yeah. There's just one little problem."
All three of them turned to him. "There is?" Bambi asked.
"Yeah, there is?" Nick looked at him suspiciously.
Emboldened, Cody put an arm around Tammy's shoulders. "Yeah, see, Nick's got this helicopter, see, for harbor tours? But the only problem is that the hold, where the passengers sit? It's all dirty and greasy and kind of--"
"Easy there, tiger. 'Greasy' might be overstating it."
"--well, you know how helicopters get."
Both girls nodded, even though Cody was willing to bet neither of them had ever been closer to a chopper than picking up airmen at a Blue Angels show.
"Anyway, we're worried that tourists might you know, get the wrong idea." Cody ignored Nick's glower. "Not to put too fine a point on it, what this problem needs is some delicate assistance." He beamed at Tammy. "You know, a woman's touch."
No one said anything for perhaps ten seconds. Then:
"Sixty bucks," Tammy said. "Carpets, curtains, the whole shebang."
Nick coughed into his fist. "Twenty."
"Fifty."
"Hey, wait a minute," Cody tried.
"Forty." Nick rocked back on his heels.
"Thirty-five." Tammy folded her arms over her chest. "And dinner. You're grilling."
"Deal." Nick stuck out his hand, and Tammy grasped it firmly. "You girls do your shopping early enough, we might still have time for that tour out to the Channel Islands."
Tammy flipped her hair back over her shoulders again. "Pity the yard sales don't usually start til Saturday morning." Nick's face fell, and she laughed. "Don't worry. You'll get your money's worth. Now," she stepped closer to Cody and twined her arms around his neck. "How about a little pre-shopping, pre-tour celebration, huh?"
Cody grinned and put his arms around her. "I like the sound of that. How 'bout you, Nick?"
Next to him, Cody heard a pleased giggle, and then Nick's low, familiar growl. "Oh yeah, big guy. You know me. I'm always up for celebrating."
Tammy stood on her tiptoes, face upturned, and taking a deep breath, Cody leaned towards her, his nostrils filled with Anais Anais.
"Ryder! Allen! Hold it right there, wiseguys."
Cody's grin faded at the sound of Mama Jo's voice. Tammy kissed his cheek. "Until the weekend," she whispered, then melted from his arms like a particularly flexible shadow. Cody looked over at Nick and found him similarly defrocked of female companionship. The two of them raised their hands in the traditional gesture of surrender.
Tammy and Bambi stood together a few feet away, next to a bollard, eyes downcast and expressions demure as Mama Jo strode briskly down the pier towards them. Aunt? Cody mouthed at Tammy. She shrugged and mouthed back, She's leaving tomorrow.
"Now she tells us," Cody murmured in Nick's ear.
"Good evening, Mama Jo," Nick announced loudly, "and may I comment on how lovely you look tonight?"
"No you certainly may not." Mama Jo shined her flashlight directly in Cody's eyes, then Nick's and back again. "Apparently, it's high time I reminded the two of you of a couple of rules pertaining to them there members of my crew, namely the admittedly lovely ladies of the Contessa.
"Yes, Mama Jo," the two of them said in unison, hands still raised. As Mama Jo launched into her lecture, Cody didn't have to look over at Nick to know they were both thinking the same thing: neither of them could wait til the weekend.
---
The intervening days passed in a haze of boat repair and beer. Cody's own find, the newly renamed Riptide, was proving to be everything he'd ever dreamed of. It was a first-class cruiser and just the sight of her, bobbing at her slip, had brought them more than one party interested in simply coming aboard and passing the time. And if so far none of them had bitten at the deep-sea fishing excursion package, enough of them had agreed to the harbor tours that there was beer in the fridge and a tidy sum in the checking account. The best part, though, was that onboard the boat, Nick seemed to hear Cody thinking. The two of them seemed to be in sync like never before, and every time Cody's thoughts strayed to the big pink dumpster out at the other slip, Nick appeared next to him, his hands and mouth seeking all the right places to make Cody believe that a reconditioned war bus could really keep the wolves from their door.
On Friday, Nick brought Cody a note with his morning coffee. It read simply: "All finished. Meet you at the Mimi at four!" Even if it hadn't been written in large, looping script, every i dotted with a heart, the two of them would have known who left it tucked neatly in the crack of the wheelhouse door. By one-thirty, Nick was pacing the salon as Cody sat on the bench and tried to get him to stop. At two, Cody threw restraint and pretense out the window and simply ripped Nick's clothes off. That kept them both occupied for a good hour, and restoring everyone to their original upright and locked position took the better part of the next one, until they were both back in the Vette, relaxed and happy and on their way to bear witness to what two Contessans, thirty-five dollars and the promise of flamebroiled meat could do.
When they arrived at the helipad, Tammy and Bambi were already there, bouncing with anticipation. For her part, the Mimi seemed mildly pleased, if a helicopter could display such emotions. This time, when the sea breeze rocked her, she seemed to ruffle her feathers proudly as if eager to take flight. Cody approached the beast with caution.
Tammy and Bambi crashed over the two of them like a shampoo tidal wave. Tresses gleaming in the sun, the two Contessans insisted on covering the boys' eyes and frog-marching them over to the Mimi's open doorway. Cody let himself be led, confident of Nick at his side. With a final giggling flourish, the girls released them both, blinking into the sunlight at the edge of the Mimi's hatch.
"So what d'you think?"
Cody wasn't sure which girl spoke. When his eyes focused again, the first thing he made out was ruffles. Pink ruffles. The second thing he made out was Nick, standing next to him, with his mouth hanging open. Actually open. Cody scanned the rest of the Mimi's interior, trying to take it all in.
"C'mon guys, be honest! Do you like it?" Bambi was still squeezing Nick's shoulders.
Inside the Mimi's hold, the transformation was complete and unforgiving. Things were...pink, and fluffy and...flowery. It exceeded Cody's wildest dreams, and made what he'd seen on his fateful acid trip look like Saturday morning cartoons in comparison. The utility bench seat had been covered in a garish red floral print, held in place with two fluffy pink pillows. The girls had managed to find pale pink tulle for the windows, the kind that Cody's mom used in her bathroom. There was a lava lamp in the corner, and a fluorescent pink starfish tacked to the wall and...Cody's senses reeled, unable to take it all in at one time. He turned and looked at Nick. "Well buddy," Cody said, "be honest. What d'you think?"
Beside him, Nick stood at the door of his brand new chopper and gaped.
---
Cody was never sure just how the guy did it, but whenever Nick made a move on the Contessans, he always managed to be just where Mama Jo thought to look, and today was no exception. Just as Cody had resigned himself to a long weekend with company, Mama Jo came storming up the gangplank to the Riptide, her aunt having made a recovery nothing short of miraculous. Cody took the tongue-lashing in stride, and managed not to look at Nick more than once through the duration.
After Tammy and Bambi had been unceremoniously escorted back to the Contessa under Mama Jo's watchful eye, he and Nick sat on the Riptide's back deck and watched the sun boil into the ocean. It was a sight Cody would never tire of; there'd been more than one day he'd thought he'd never get to see it again, that his last memory would be of steaming jungle and whining metal, and after he returned home--not the long months of confusion, alone with his family and a toothsome, biting world, but home when he found Nick--Cody vowed never to take a sunset for granted again. The two of them sat in companionable silence, until twilight fell over the the water and Cody valiantly fought to ignore the chill that came with it.
Nick leaned up against him, warmth transmitted far more efficiently by his eyes than by the gentle bump of a shoulder against Cody's chest. Still, it was enough. Cody looked out from under his bangs. "Nick," he began. But really, what was there to say? They had each other. And a boat, and a big pink helicopter. What could be missing?
Nick looked over and squeezed his knee, and in that and the look in his eyes, Cody had everything he'd ever wanted. He grinned down at the deck, cheeks burning despite the coolness of the evening. They sat together for a few minutes more, enjoying the peaceable activities going on at other slips: laughter and the clink of wineglasses from the lowslung Bayliner next door, an indignant squeal from somewhere close by, then the reassuring murmur of a masculine voice overriding protests, and over it all, the soothing timeless lap of the ocean at every hull, the reassuring rock of the Riptide--their very own boat--convincing Cody of the inherent calm of the evening. Still, he felt Nick's tension keenly. It was like sitting next to a live wire. He watched Nick search the clear night skies, eyes roving, until he could wait no longer.
"Nick," Cody said softly.
"Yeah, man. What is it?" Another gentle squeeze.
"Looks to me like a perfect night for flying. You wanna take the Mimi out for a spin?"
Nick's grin could have powered all of King Harbor, and Pedro and Torrance beyond. "Yeah, Cody. I think I'd like that. Any particular place you wanna go?"
Cody looked around them at the black and silent ocean, the horizon just a fraction lighter. If he was out tonight on the water, Cody knew he'd be staring up at the North Star, trusting in its power to show them the way. And he knew exactly where he'd point the Riptide's prow. He moved his hand next to Nick's, conscious as always of being out in the open, conscious of discovery. "I've heard Fisherman's Island's nice."
"Huh." Nick scooted his hand closer, til their fingers overlapped. Pleasure measured pinky by pinky. "I'd heard something like that."
Cody grinned.
The Mimi's start-up sequence went much the way he'd feared, with alarming backfires and a shuddering he thought would surely jettison the last of the remaining rivets holding the big pink dumpster in one piece. Still, one look at Nick and all the butterflies in Cody's stomach alighted, finding sudden perches at his best friend's smile. Like they always had done.
At Nick's urging, he bowed his head, staring at the rust-pocked footplate between his brand-new deck shoes. "Dear Lord," he heard, "bless this rusted pink hulk and those fool enough to fly in her, including Cody Allen."
Cody turned his head, watching Nick's adam's apple bob by the light of the instrument panel. "The best friend a guy ever had."
Suddenly, there was something stuck in Cody's throat, too. "Amen."
Nick's eyes glittered wet in the low light, and then suddenly they were airborne, up and out over the rippling black water, headed directly for the moon. Cody gripped the handle over the window and held his breath as the ocean itself fell away, giving them room to soar.
Rating: PG
Summary: There's so much wrong with Mimi, Cody doesn't know where to start. Luckily, he's got help with that.
The fiery red Vette squealed to a halt in front of the foreign slip and Nick had barely pulled the parking brake before he jumped out and trotted briskly through the archway. Cody exited the car more slowly, wondering if this was just like that time on base Hart slipped LSD into his coffee.
Nick bounded across the helipad, calling back over his shoulder, "So what d'you think, man? Isn't she a beauty? You wouldn't believe how cheap I got her."
"I probably wouldn't, Nick." Cody walked more slowly. The rusty pink monstrosity squatting by the water didn't get any less rusty or pink as he approached. In fact, glaring down at Cody was about the last thing he could imagine being suitable for tourists. As Nick launched into a tour of the chopper's many virtues, Cody stopped and stood with his hands on his hips, staring. "Hey Nick?"
Nick popped out from behind the tail section. "Yeah, babe?"
"You think maybe the price had anything to do with the fact that this helicopter is pink?"
Nick's face fell. "Aw come on, Cody, gimme a break."
"No, you come on. Who's gonna wanna ride in a pink helicopter, Nick? Name one person. Because apart from Barbie, buddy, I can't see who'd be interested." Cody returned to staring at the metal hulk creaking gently with the harbor breezes. He half feared the thing would fall on him if the wind picked up.
Nick came over to put a hand on his arm. "Now look, babe, look. Helicopters do not grow on trees, okay? And I know she might not be fresh off the rack, but I'll have you know this particular helicopter is pretty special. She's a Sikorsky S58-T, one of the first turbine models, used pretty heavily over in Nam--"
"Looks like she just got back from her tour." Cody rubbed at a trail of rust leading down from a rivethole missing its rivet. He squinted at his fingers, then hurriedly wiped his hand on his jeans.
Nick's brows lowered as he continued. "Which means two things. Number one, there's gotta be a ton of other 58's out of service, sitting around waiting to be parted out."
Cody squinted in confusion.
"Which means cheap parts, dummy. And number two, I know every square inch of this bird like the back of my hand, so if something goes wrong--"
One look at Nick's face, and Cody knew better than to correct his "if" to "when".
"If something goes wrong, I can fix it. You know I can." Nick glared. "Come on, man, this is it. This is our chopper."
Cody didn't say anything. He knew how much it meant to Nick to finally own his own helicopter. It'd been all the guy had talked about since they'd agreed to leave the MPs. He'd dragged Cody to the library countless times to pore over magazines and scan want ads from around the country while Cody flipped idly through Power Boating and Yachts!. Cody had gone with Nick to check out so many decommissioned choppers that he'd finally snapped one day and told the guy to just pick one. Any one. And this was the one he'd chosen. Cody opened his mouth to object again, but caught the look in Nick's eyes.
Nick had folded his arms across his chest and was staring intently up at the side of the chopper. Cody followed his gaze. There it was, in big red cursive letters: "The Screaming Mimi".
Memories flooded through Cody in a rush: a borrowed hour of wet air in Saigon, the smell of cigarettes, sex and ozone, the feel of rough cotton batting and Nick's skin, slick with sweat, his body wholly against Cody's own, for the first time. He kept those were memories closer than anything else, rarely indulging in them, in case the remembering somehow diminished their shine. Cody shivered. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it right from the start. He slung an arm round Nick's shoulders and pulled him close. "You're right, Nick," he said, contrite. "That's ours, buddy."
Nick looked into Cody's eyes and nodded, blinking back tears. Cody pulled Nick as close as he dared, then set about exploring their big pink rusty helicopter.
---
By the time they sat down for dinner in the round leather booth at Straightaway's, Cody had almost resigned himself to the idea, and could almost be cheerful about it. Except for one thing. "No one's gonna wanna ride in that cargo hold, Nick. It looks like a junkyard."
Nick stopped toying with his beer bottle and looked up sharply. "It's a little rugged in there, maybe." He shrugged. "So we'll spruce it up."
Cody smirked. "I'm not sure what's wrong in there's gonna be fixable with just a few fluffy cushions and a--and a nice lamp or something. I mean, Nick, what self-respecting girl's gonna want a tour where she gets engine grease all over her bikini, huh?"
"I can see you've given this some serious thought."
"Look, I'm just saying, the Mimi's appearance could use some work. Right now, she looks a little..." Cody snuck a look at Nick before finishing his sentence. "Disreputable."
"'Disreputable'? Did you just call my chopper 'disreputable'? Cody, I'll have you know, the Sikorskys are the most dependable birds out there. Not like your--your--your Helibras, or your Robinsons, or Revolutions. Bells are okay, but don't even get me started about the Swidniks. You do not want to get near a Swidnik."
Cody rolled his eyes. "Oh here we go," he muttered. He took a long swig of beer while Nick launched into the familiar spiel.
They were saved from the full 90-minute production by the timely appearance of Candi, their waitress. "Hey Table Three, what's shaking?"
Cody straightened up in his seat. "Hi Candi, it's good to see you. You're looking lovely this evening." He grinned, and ignored the snort from the other side of the booth. Nick had managed to get a couple dates with Candi, but so far Cody had struck out with her. Twice. Not that it really mattered--he snuck a look over at Nick, who smirked knowingly--but still. It rankled. "That's uh, that's a lovely wear you're lei'ing."
Candi giggled becomingly while Nick choked on his beer. "Oh Cody, you're so cute." She put a burger plate in front of each of them.
Cody leaned forwards. "I am?"
Tucking her now empty tray under one arm, Candi grabbed his nose between her knuckles and gave it a playful shake, wrinkling her own in return. "You are! That must be why those two girls from the Contessa were looking for you."
"Dey were?" Cody gently freed his nose, holding onto Candi's wrist. "They were?"
"Yup!" Candi freed her wrist with a businesslike twist. "Tammi and...oh, that other one. The brunette with the birthmark on her inner thigh. What's her name?" Candi squeezed her eyes shut and wrinkled her nose again.
This time both of them leaned forward. "Birthmark?" Nick asked.
Candi's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh. Oh. That was just--um, you know, after you've had a few, and--well, it's just---oh! Bambi! That's her name! Bambi!"
"No, Candi, I don't know," Nick said, "but I'd like to."
Candi giggled and punched Nick's shoulder. "Silly. Anyway, those two. They were in here earlier, looking for you two. I said I'd pass on the message if I saw you. And now I have!" She ruffled Nick's hair affectionately before turning to leave. "Enjoy your meal," she called over her shoulder.
The two of them watched her leave. As soon as she disappeared through the swinging doors to the kitchen, Cody said, "Birthmark?"
Nick shrugged, already nibbling a fry. "Beats me. But we should probably find out what the two of them want, in case it's important."
Cody pushed his fries away from his burger and nodded. "In case it involves this weekend."
Nick chewed rapidly. "Exactly. Or Mama Jo."
"Don't even say her name out loud, Nick. I think it might summon her, or something."
Nick gripped his burger with both hands and grinned. "Oh Cody," he said.
Cody glared. "Don't."
It was no use. "You're so cute." Nick took a big bite of burger and grinned, chewing happily.
Sighing, Cody salted his fries and tried to ignore Nick's giggles. Cute is good, he told himself, cute at least means she's thought about it. He resolutely refused to look across the table at his best friend, the guy who'd bought a flying pink dumpster with half their savings. The guy who'd taken out Candi. Twice. The guy who made his heart pound in his chest.
---
The argument about the Mimi resumed as soon as the food had been consumed and the check stashed on their tab. Striding amiably along the concrete promenade, Cody said, "Dirty. Dark. Oil-stained. Cramped--"
"Look, will you lighten up already? I was about to say 'rugged', okay? The Mimi's a little rugged, maybe. That's all. Doesn't mean she's not a good ship."
Cody shrugged down into his blue hoodie, shoulders hunched against the night chill coming off the water. A light in one of the live-aboards winked off as they passed. "Rugged, Nick?"
"Rugged."
"Maybe we can work that into the ad copy." Cody snuck a peek out from under his lashes and waited for the explosion.
Nick stopped cold in the middle of the promenade. "You know, Cody, that's exactly the type of--"
"Nick! Cody! Boy are we glad we ran into you two!" Tammy and Bambi, two of the all-girl crew of the Contessa came bounding up the promenade to meet them. All rational thought stopped while Cody watched the bounding.
"We've been looking everywhere for you guys!" Two of them or not, Bambi addressed her statement to Nick, while Cody's brain helpfully flashed: birthmark, birthmark, birthmark.
Nick shrugged and favored the petite brunette with a smile. "Well, everywhere's about where we've been. Isn't that right, big guy?" Nick looked over at Cody with a tease in his eyes. Wanna? they said.
Cody harumphed irritably into his mustache before recovering. "Everywhere." He tried to shrug expansively. "You know, all over the place."
Tammy regarded him curiously before flipping her hair back over her shoulders. "That's funny, because we thought we knew everywhere by now. Except..." She looked at her partner.
Bambi sidled closer to Nick. "We heard, you guys have a new toy."
"You did, huh?" Nick took advantage of the sidling. "What kind?"
"The kind that flies out to Fisherman's Island to watch the sunset while Mama Jo's visiting her aunt for the weekend?" Bambi trailed delicate fingers over one of Nick's biceps. Fisherman's Island was a minor outlying spit, really, one of the many many groupies clustered around the eight small islands hanging off the coast of California in the Santa Barbara Channel.
"Oh that kind," Nick responded. "I might know something about that kind of toy."
Bambi giggled and snuggled closer. "I thought you might."
"I'll bet." Nick was now close enough to Bambi that he could have reported back on the inner thigh situation if he chose, and in a flash, Cody pictured the writing on the side of Nick's chopper. The Screaming Mimi. Mimi. Saigon. Nick.
Cody cleared his throat nervously. "Yeah. There's just one little problem."
All three of them turned to him. "There is?" Bambi asked.
"Yeah, there is?" Nick looked at him suspiciously.
Emboldened, Cody put an arm around Tammy's shoulders. "Yeah, see, Nick's got this helicopter, see, for harbor tours? But the only problem is that the hold, where the passengers sit? It's all dirty and greasy and kind of--"
"Easy there, tiger. 'Greasy' might be overstating it."
"--well, you know how helicopters get."
Both girls nodded, even though Cody was willing to bet neither of them had ever been closer to a chopper than picking up airmen at a Blue Angels show.
"Anyway, we're worried that tourists might you know, get the wrong idea." Cody ignored Nick's glower. "Not to put too fine a point on it, what this problem needs is some delicate assistance." He beamed at Tammy. "You know, a woman's touch."
No one said anything for perhaps ten seconds. Then:
"Sixty bucks," Tammy said. "Carpets, curtains, the whole shebang."
Nick coughed into his fist. "Twenty."
"Fifty."
"Hey, wait a minute," Cody tried.
"Forty." Nick rocked back on his heels.
"Thirty-five." Tammy folded her arms over her chest. "And dinner. You're grilling."
"Deal." Nick stuck out his hand, and Tammy grasped it firmly. "You girls do your shopping early enough, we might still have time for that tour out to the Channel Islands."
Tammy flipped her hair back over her shoulders again. "Pity the yard sales don't usually start til Saturday morning." Nick's face fell, and she laughed. "Don't worry. You'll get your money's worth. Now," she stepped closer to Cody and twined her arms around his neck. "How about a little pre-shopping, pre-tour celebration, huh?"
Cody grinned and put his arms around her. "I like the sound of that. How 'bout you, Nick?"
Next to him, Cody heard a pleased giggle, and then Nick's low, familiar growl. "Oh yeah, big guy. You know me. I'm always up for celebrating."
Tammy stood on her tiptoes, face upturned, and taking a deep breath, Cody leaned towards her, his nostrils filled with Anais Anais.
"Ryder! Allen! Hold it right there, wiseguys."
Cody's grin faded at the sound of Mama Jo's voice. Tammy kissed his cheek. "Until the weekend," she whispered, then melted from his arms like a particularly flexible shadow. Cody looked over at Nick and found him similarly defrocked of female companionship. The two of them raised their hands in the traditional gesture of surrender.
Tammy and Bambi stood together a few feet away, next to a bollard, eyes downcast and expressions demure as Mama Jo strode briskly down the pier towards them. Aunt? Cody mouthed at Tammy. She shrugged and mouthed back, She's leaving tomorrow.
"Now she tells us," Cody murmured in Nick's ear.
"Good evening, Mama Jo," Nick announced loudly, "and may I comment on how lovely you look tonight?"
"No you certainly may not." Mama Jo shined her flashlight directly in Cody's eyes, then Nick's and back again. "Apparently, it's high time I reminded the two of you of a couple of rules pertaining to them there members of my crew, namely the admittedly lovely ladies of the Contessa.
"Yes, Mama Jo," the two of them said in unison, hands still raised. As Mama Jo launched into her lecture, Cody didn't have to look over at Nick to know they were both thinking the same thing: neither of them could wait til the weekend.
---
The intervening days passed in a haze of boat repair and beer. Cody's own find, the newly renamed Riptide, was proving to be everything he'd ever dreamed of. It was a first-class cruiser and just the sight of her, bobbing at her slip, had brought them more than one party interested in simply coming aboard and passing the time. And if so far none of them had bitten at the deep-sea fishing excursion package, enough of them had agreed to the harbor tours that there was beer in the fridge and a tidy sum in the checking account. The best part, though, was that onboard the boat, Nick seemed to hear Cody thinking. The two of them seemed to be in sync like never before, and every time Cody's thoughts strayed to the big pink dumpster out at the other slip, Nick appeared next to him, his hands and mouth seeking all the right places to make Cody believe that a reconditioned war bus could really keep the wolves from their door.
On Friday, Nick brought Cody a note with his morning coffee. It read simply: "All finished. Meet you at the Mimi at four!" Even if it hadn't been written in large, looping script, every i dotted with a heart, the two of them would have known who left it tucked neatly in the crack of the wheelhouse door. By one-thirty, Nick was pacing the salon as Cody sat on the bench and tried to get him to stop. At two, Cody threw restraint and pretense out the window and simply ripped Nick's clothes off. That kept them both occupied for a good hour, and restoring everyone to their original upright and locked position took the better part of the next one, until they were both back in the Vette, relaxed and happy and on their way to bear witness to what two Contessans, thirty-five dollars and the promise of flamebroiled meat could do.
When they arrived at the helipad, Tammy and Bambi were already there, bouncing with anticipation. For her part, the Mimi seemed mildly pleased, if a helicopter could display such emotions. This time, when the sea breeze rocked her, she seemed to ruffle her feathers proudly as if eager to take flight. Cody approached the beast with caution.
Tammy and Bambi crashed over the two of them like a shampoo tidal wave. Tresses gleaming in the sun, the two Contessans insisted on covering the boys' eyes and frog-marching them over to the Mimi's open doorway. Cody let himself be led, confident of Nick at his side. With a final giggling flourish, the girls released them both, blinking into the sunlight at the edge of the Mimi's hatch.
"So what d'you think?"
Cody wasn't sure which girl spoke. When his eyes focused again, the first thing he made out was ruffles. Pink ruffles. The second thing he made out was Nick, standing next to him, with his mouth hanging open. Actually open. Cody scanned the rest of the Mimi's interior, trying to take it all in.
"C'mon guys, be honest! Do you like it?" Bambi was still squeezing Nick's shoulders.
Inside the Mimi's hold, the transformation was complete and unforgiving. Things were...pink, and fluffy and...flowery. It exceeded Cody's wildest dreams, and made what he'd seen on his fateful acid trip look like Saturday morning cartoons in comparison. The utility bench seat had been covered in a garish red floral print, held in place with two fluffy pink pillows. The girls had managed to find pale pink tulle for the windows, the kind that Cody's mom used in her bathroom. There was a lava lamp in the corner, and a fluorescent pink starfish tacked to the wall and...Cody's senses reeled, unable to take it all in at one time. He turned and looked at Nick. "Well buddy," Cody said, "be honest. What d'you think?"
Beside him, Nick stood at the door of his brand new chopper and gaped.
---
Cody was never sure just how the guy did it, but whenever Nick made a move on the Contessans, he always managed to be just where Mama Jo thought to look, and today was no exception. Just as Cody had resigned himself to a long weekend with company, Mama Jo came storming up the gangplank to the Riptide, her aunt having made a recovery nothing short of miraculous. Cody took the tongue-lashing in stride, and managed not to look at Nick more than once through the duration.
After Tammy and Bambi had been unceremoniously escorted back to the Contessa under Mama Jo's watchful eye, he and Nick sat on the Riptide's back deck and watched the sun boil into the ocean. It was a sight Cody would never tire of; there'd been more than one day he'd thought he'd never get to see it again, that his last memory would be of steaming jungle and whining metal, and after he returned home--not the long months of confusion, alone with his family and a toothsome, biting world, but home when he found Nick--Cody vowed never to take a sunset for granted again. The two of them sat in companionable silence, until twilight fell over the the water and Cody valiantly fought to ignore the chill that came with it.
Nick leaned up against him, warmth transmitted far more efficiently by his eyes than by the gentle bump of a shoulder against Cody's chest. Still, it was enough. Cody looked out from under his bangs. "Nick," he began. But really, what was there to say? They had each other. And a boat, and a big pink helicopter. What could be missing?
Nick looked over and squeezed his knee, and in that and the look in his eyes, Cody had everything he'd ever wanted. He grinned down at the deck, cheeks burning despite the coolness of the evening. They sat together for a few minutes more, enjoying the peaceable activities going on at other slips: laughter and the clink of wineglasses from the lowslung Bayliner next door, an indignant squeal from somewhere close by, then the reassuring murmur of a masculine voice overriding protests, and over it all, the soothing timeless lap of the ocean at every hull, the reassuring rock of the Riptide--their very own boat--convincing Cody of the inherent calm of the evening. Still, he felt Nick's tension keenly. It was like sitting next to a live wire. He watched Nick search the clear night skies, eyes roving, until he could wait no longer.
"Nick," Cody said softly.
"Yeah, man. What is it?" Another gentle squeeze.
"Looks to me like a perfect night for flying. You wanna take the Mimi out for a spin?"
Nick's grin could have powered all of King Harbor, and Pedro and Torrance beyond. "Yeah, Cody. I think I'd like that. Any particular place you wanna go?"
Cody looked around them at the black and silent ocean, the horizon just a fraction lighter. If he was out tonight on the water, Cody knew he'd be staring up at the North Star, trusting in its power to show them the way. And he knew exactly where he'd point the Riptide's prow. He moved his hand next to Nick's, conscious as always of being out in the open, conscious of discovery. "I've heard Fisherman's Island's nice."
"Huh." Nick scooted his hand closer, til their fingers overlapped. Pleasure measured pinky by pinky. "I'd heard something like that."
Cody grinned.
The Mimi's start-up sequence went much the way he'd feared, with alarming backfires and a shuddering he thought would surely jettison the last of the remaining rivets holding the big pink dumpster in one piece. Still, one look at Nick and all the butterflies in Cody's stomach alighted, finding sudden perches at his best friend's smile. Like they always had done.
At Nick's urging, he bowed his head, staring at the rust-pocked footplate between his brand-new deck shoes. "Dear Lord," he heard, "bless this rusted pink hulk and those fool enough to fly in her, including Cody Allen."
Cody turned his head, watching Nick's adam's apple bob by the light of the instrument panel. "The best friend a guy ever had."
Suddenly, there was something stuck in Cody's throat, too. "Amen."
Nick's eyes glittered wet in the low light, and then suddenly they were airborne, up and out over the rippling black water, headed directly for the moon. Cody gripped the handle over the window and held his breath as the ocean itself fell away, giving them room to soar.