riptide_asylum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
riptide_asylum) wrote2010-08-29 09:13 pm
riptide_asylum) wrote2010-08-29 09:13 pm
Entry tags:
"A Place to Play" (Deep Water, 1979)
Title: A Place to Play
Rating: PG
Summary: After a long day flying, Nick goes looking for Cody
One of the hottest days of summer was drawing to a close. The sun was sinking, and with the twilight came a gentle breeze off the water.
Nick parked the Vette down the alley behind the ratty apartment he and Cody shared. There was an ominous knock in her engine, but that was a job for another day; a day when he hadn't spent six hours in the air nursing a jerry-rigged cargo-bird home from Mexico, and another six hours flushing her engines when he finally landed.
He was tired, hot and hungry, and he hurt in places he'd never so much as thought about before.
Inside, the single room was stuffy and close, and littered with clothing. Nick ran a jaundiced eye over the jeans and shirts flung haphazardly across the bed, the couch and the floor, and called out experimentally. "Cody?"
There was no answer, but he hadn't expected one. The apartment showed every sign of Cody on a date. Resignedly, Nick stripped where he stood, dropping his pilot's cargoes amongst Cody's discarded jeans, and walked straight to the shower.
In this weather, the temperamental plumbing wasn't a problem. The shower was nearly cold, and Nick enjoyed every moment of its cool massage. By the time he turned the water off, he nearly felt refreshed.
The closet was nearly empty - Nick rolled his eyes. No wonder, since just about every piece of Cody's clothing was lying about the apartment. He tidied a little, picking up the obviously clean items and folding them away, then gave up and kicked the laundry into a pile in the corner. Tomorrow was soon enough to restore order.
He slipped into a pair of white shorts and grabbed a polo at random, then paused. He and Cody shared a lot of clothes, but lemon really wasn't his color. He replaced the shirt, and took a blue t-shirt instead.
Slipping a twenty and the key into his pocket, Nick headed out to find his partner.
The search was neither long nor arduous. Since Cody had gotten the music bug, he'd taken to hanging out in the oceanside park, up above the beach. Nick missed the surfing, but there were worse ways to spend an evening.
He found Cody almost at once, perched on a fallen log, guitar resting across his lap. At his feet lay a thick pad and he was chewing on a pencil. He was wearing his tight white pants and a ridiculous fringed leather jacket some girl had given him last week.
Nick rolled his eyes and sank down on the log beside his partner. "Got any beer?"
Cody jumped then picked up his guitar. His eyes were a little wary. "Long day?"
Nick nodded and shifted a little closer, pushing his shoulder against Cody, and the taut, nervous look in Cody's eyes receded.
"Cody, play us 'Silver Surfer' again." Cody's latest girl - Mindy? Cindy? Nick couldn't remember - came up on Cody's other side and sank to the ground at his feet. Her eyes flashed amber at Nick.
Nick sat back and watched as Cody turned his attention to Mindy-Cindy. He knew when he was beaten. He spotted their small cooler behind the log and helped himself to a beer, then shifted to the grass a few feet away.
Cody stank. Well, his tunes were all right, Nick would give him that, but he couldn't sing, no matter what Cindy-Mindy told him. No more than Nick himself could. Nick grinned over the top of his beer can. Cody looked better with the guitar, though--looked the part in his horrible jacket, all long lean muscles and golden California tan.
Nick wasn't gonna be the one to tell him. The summer wouldn't last forever - Nick knew that too well, and so did Cody for that matter - and for now, the guitar had banished Cody's nightmares.
For that, Nick was willing to listen to listen to 'Silver Surfer' a hundred times. Hell, he'd even sing along.
Rating: PG
Summary: After a long day flying, Nick goes looking for Cody
One of the hottest days of summer was drawing to a close. The sun was sinking, and with the twilight came a gentle breeze off the water.
Nick parked the Vette down the alley behind the ratty apartment he and Cody shared. There was an ominous knock in her engine, but that was a job for another day; a day when he hadn't spent six hours in the air nursing a jerry-rigged cargo-bird home from Mexico, and another six hours flushing her engines when he finally landed.
He was tired, hot and hungry, and he hurt in places he'd never so much as thought about before.
Inside, the single room was stuffy and close, and littered with clothing. Nick ran a jaundiced eye over the jeans and shirts flung haphazardly across the bed, the couch and the floor, and called out experimentally. "Cody?"
There was no answer, but he hadn't expected one. The apartment showed every sign of Cody on a date. Resignedly, Nick stripped where he stood, dropping his pilot's cargoes amongst Cody's discarded jeans, and walked straight to the shower.
In this weather, the temperamental plumbing wasn't a problem. The shower was nearly cold, and Nick enjoyed every moment of its cool massage. By the time he turned the water off, he nearly felt refreshed.
The closet was nearly empty - Nick rolled his eyes. No wonder, since just about every piece of Cody's clothing was lying about the apartment. He tidied a little, picking up the obviously clean items and folding them away, then gave up and kicked the laundry into a pile in the corner. Tomorrow was soon enough to restore order.
He slipped into a pair of white shorts and grabbed a polo at random, then paused. He and Cody shared a lot of clothes, but lemon really wasn't his color. He replaced the shirt, and took a blue t-shirt instead.
Slipping a twenty and the key into his pocket, Nick headed out to find his partner.
The search was neither long nor arduous. Since Cody had gotten the music bug, he'd taken to hanging out in the oceanside park, up above the beach. Nick missed the surfing, but there were worse ways to spend an evening.
He found Cody almost at once, perched on a fallen log, guitar resting across his lap. At his feet lay a thick pad and he was chewing on a pencil. He was wearing his tight white pants and a ridiculous fringed leather jacket some girl had given him last week.
Nick rolled his eyes and sank down on the log beside his partner. "Got any beer?"
Cody jumped then picked up his guitar. His eyes were a little wary. "Long day?"
Nick nodded and shifted a little closer, pushing his shoulder against Cody, and the taut, nervous look in Cody's eyes receded.
"Cody, play us 'Silver Surfer' again." Cody's latest girl - Mindy? Cindy? Nick couldn't remember - came up on Cody's other side and sank to the ground at his feet. Her eyes flashed amber at Nick.
Nick sat back and watched as Cody turned his attention to Mindy-Cindy. He knew when he was beaten. He spotted their small cooler behind the log and helped himself to a beer, then shifted to the grass a few feet away.
Cody stank. Well, his tunes were all right, Nick would give him that, but he couldn't sing, no matter what Cindy-Mindy told him. No more than Nick himself could. Nick grinned over the top of his beer can. Cody looked better with the guitar, though--looked the part in his horrible jacket, all long lean muscles and golden California tan.
Nick wasn't gonna be the one to tell him. The summer wouldn't last forever - Nick knew that too well, and so did Cody for that matter - and for now, the guitar had banished Cody's nightmares.
For that, Nick was willing to listen to listen to 'Silver Surfer' a hundred times. Hell, he'd even sing along.