"Stranger in the Night" (Sunfish, 1999)
Aug. 31st, 2013 09:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
riptide_asylumTITLE: Stranger in the Night
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Is Nick hearing things, or were those just gunshots?
“I’m telling you, Cody, I heard something,” Nick whispered. “And if you wanna tell me I don’t know the sound of gunshots by now, I’ll eat my shoes. Or yours. Now--” He gestured angrily. “Would you pipe down and come on?”
Cody, crouched at Nick’s back, wryly reflected that maybe he wasn’t the one who needed to stay quiet at this juncture. He wasn’t the one who’d made them leave the warmth and safety of the boat to go prowling around in the dark, searching for the source of these imaginary gunshots. But then again, he wasn’t about to point that out to Nick. Not when his best friend of thirty years was creeping through the foggy night with a 9mm cocked and ready. Cody had agreed to bring the Beretta from the icebox, after he got done chastising Nick about appropriate firearm storage. He felt it now, heavy and still inexplicably icy, tucked into the band of his shorts at the small of his back. “Nick, I’m not saying you didn’t hear ‘em,” Cody whispered back. “I’m just saying maybe we oughta be a little more conservative in our response. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for what you heard.”
Nick stood up suddenly and whirled on Cody. “Perfectly reasonable expla-- What’s gotten into you, man? Are you with me or not? ‘Cause if you’re not, maybe you should go back and wait on the boat ‘til the coast’s clear.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Nick. I’m saying maybe you heard gunshots alright, but what if -- and hear me out here, buddy -- what if the gunshots you heard were…” Cody struggled. “A car backfiring, or firecrackers. I mean, lots of people like to shoot off firecrackers in summer. It’s patriotic.”
“Are you really gonna stand here and tell me I don’t know the sound of gunfire when I hear it? Me? Really? ‘Cause while there’s a break in the action, I’ve got time to laugh, Cody. So consider this me laughing, okay? Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Cody dropped the Beretta to his side. “That’s not what I meant, Nick. I simply wanted to point out there’s a lot of other, perfectly valid explanations for the sound you thought was gunfire.”
For a moment the two of them just stared at one another, their breaths clouding in the night.
Nick narrowed his eyes at Cody. “You know,” he said in his normal voice, “if I didn’t know you better, Cody, that would sound exactly like you didn’t believe I heard gunfire.”
Cody raised a finger and opened his mouth to object.
Nearby, a branch cracked sharply. The two of them hit the ground in tandem, guns cocked and pointed at the sky as they both looked around, wide-eyed.
Around them, the marina lay dark and still. Gone one a.m. and even the diehard dot-com partiers down at slip 14 had dialed it down to one soft golden light in the salon and a song about old pictures, floating softly across to them on the breeze. Other than that, the night was quiet, filled with the sounds of waves slapping against the docks and the occasional squeak of fiberglass against water-swollen wood. They were far enough north that the Berkeley foghorn wouldn’t reach them, and this late at night the traffic noise from in town was nothing more than the occasional shush.
A few moments later Nick spoke. “Maybe you were right, Cody.” He shrugged against Cody’s shoulder. “Maybe I was just imagining it.”
The sharp crack of a gunshot split the night, echoing off the mountain-sides. It was followed by raucous laughter, then a second gunshot. This close the sounds couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.
“Okay,” Cody admitted softly. “Maybe you were right after all, buddy.”
But Nick was already up and gone, running in the direction of the gunfire.
With a weary sigh, Cody rose to his feet and followed at a jog.
The southern edge of the marina jutted out into the water, and even though all their docks were full, many of the slips lay empty as their tenants had taken advantage of the weather and taken their boats up or down the coast overnight. The marina was bounded by a high chain-link fence, beyond which lay a vacant restaurant. Cody rounded the hill in time to see Nick jump down over the fence and run for the abandoned building.
“Nick!” Cody called, tucking the Beretta back in his waistband. “Wait up!”
Scaling the fence took him some time, and he reached the restaurant’s parking lot in time to find his partner surrounded by a group of shame-faced youths. “This isn’t a toy,” Nick spat. “Someone could’ve been killed.” He held an air rifle by the stock. Cody could see the outline of the 9mm under his sweater.
“We were just messin’!” complained one of the kids. Acne scarred both cheeks and he wore a Giants baseball cap turned sideways. “Who’s it hurting out here?” A couple of his friends chimed in with agreements.
“Let me tell you something about guns,” Nick started. The kids groaned. He launched into a tirade and Cody, who tended to lose focus during these moments, found himself distracted by the sight of an empty can rolling gently against the edge of the restaurant’s dumpster. Frowning, Cody knelt and gingerly poked at the can. He was rewarded with a soft mew.
Tugging gently at the can, Cody found it was pockmarked with pellets, and a thick cord anchored it to--
“Hey, Nick!” Cody called. “C’mere!”
Nick arrived at a run, dropping a hand on Cody’s back as Cody gently tugged at the knot anchoring the can to a thin, fuzzy tail. “What’s wrong, Cody? What happened? Are you hurt?”
“Not me, buddy. But I think this little guy--” Cody succeeded in loosening the knot. “Might be glad you heard those shots when you did.” He extended a hand, wiggling his fingers, until a tiny orange kitten emerged from under the dumpster.
“Priaoo-ow!”
Cody grinned. “C’mere little guy. C’mere. Up you go.” He scooped up the kitten and held it to his chest. Still grinning, he looked over at Nick. “Cute little fella, isn’t he?”
Nick scowled. “No.”
“Of course he is. Especially now Uncle Nick scared off those mean old kids.” The parking lot around them had become mysteriously empty. “I bet he’s hungry, though. Aren’t ya, little buddy?”
“No, Cody. Put him down. No.”
“Aw come on, Nick. Look at him.”
“No.”
“Look at him, Nick! He can’t be more than a couple months old. Poor little guy must be scared to death.”
“No, Cody. No. Put the kitten down. We live on a boat. Cody, no kittens.”
Cody opened his mouth to object but Nick pre-empted him. “Quinn doesn’t count. That cat is not and never has been a kitten. Besides, what d’you think he’ll do when you bring home a new guy, huh? Probably tear him to shreds.”
Cody turned away, protectively sheltering the kitten in his arms. “Nick!” The kitten added another mew in protest.
Nick dropped his head. “All right. But just one meal, then he’s gotta go, okay, Cody?”
Cody met Nick’s gaze and his grin widened. They both knew when Nick was beat.
“Aw, c’mon, man. Let’s head home.” Nick’s hand grazed the small of Cody’s back, then he turned back the direction they came.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Nick? I don’t think this little guy’s in any shape to climb. Looks like we’re gonna have to take the long way home.”
Nick shook his head, but turned in the direction of the street leading back to the marina’s entrance, the confiscated rifle swinging gently from one hand. Cody fell into companionable step beside him. The kitten burrowed against his shoulder and began purring as they started down the sidewalk.
“You know what kittens need, Cody? Food. Food and attention.”
“Sure thing, Nick.”
“Don’t sure thing me, Cody. You’ve been spoiled just ‘cause Quinn’s such an asshole. Just you wait, man. You’ll see. You wouldn’t believe how much kittens eat.”
“Oh yeah? And what made you such an expert on kittens, Nick? I thought you didn’t have any pets growing up.”
“It’s just something I know, Cody.”
“Just something you know.”
“Yeah, just something I know, okay?”
They looked in each direction before crossing the intersection under a lone flashing red light. “Quinn’s gonna love him, Nick. I can tell.”
“When has Quinn loved anything in the entire time we’ve had him?”
“You’re just mad ‘cause you keep aggravating him. Then he has no choice but to bite you.”
The thick blanket of fog that lay heavy over the ocean had crawled up over the cliffs and was starting to stake a claim on the edge of town as they walked. As they turned in at the gates of the marina, it lay thick and wet over the boats lying docile in their slips, muffling all but the most necessary sounds of the night.
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Is Nick hearing things, or were those just gunshots?
“I’m telling you, Cody, I heard something,” Nick whispered. “And if you wanna tell me I don’t know the sound of gunshots by now, I’ll eat my shoes. Or yours. Now--” He gestured angrily. “Would you pipe down and come on?”
Cody, crouched at Nick’s back, wryly reflected that maybe he wasn’t the one who needed to stay quiet at this juncture. He wasn’t the one who’d made them leave the warmth and safety of the boat to go prowling around in the dark, searching for the source of these imaginary gunshots. But then again, he wasn’t about to point that out to Nick. Not when his best friend of thirty years was creeping through the foggy night with a 9mm cocked and ready. Cody had agreed to bring the Beretta from the icebox, after he got done chastising Nick about appropriate firearm storage. He felt it now, heavy and still inexplicably icy, tucked into the band of his shorts at the small of his back. “Nick, I’m not saying you didn’t hear ‘em,” Cody whispered back. “I’m just saying maybe we oughta be a little more conservative in our response. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for what you heard.”
Nick stood up suddenly and whirled on Cody. “Perfectly reasonable expla-- What’s gotten into you, man? Are you with me or not? ‘Cause if you’re not, maybe you should go back and wait on the boat ‘til the coast’s clear.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Nick. I’m saying maybe you heard gunshots alright, but what if -- and hear me out here, buddy -- what if the gunshots you heard were…” Cody struggled. “A car backfiring, or firecrackers. I mean, lots of people like to shoot off firecrackers in summer. It’s patriotic.”
“Are you really gonna stand here and tell me I don’t know the sound of gunfire when I hear it? Me? Really? ‘Cause while there’s a break in the action, I’ve got time to laugh, Cody. So consider this me laughing, okay? Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Cody dropped the Beretta to his side. “That’s not what I meant, Nick. I simply wanted to point out there’s a lot of other, perfectly valid explanations for the sound you thought was gunfire.”
For a moment the two of them just stared at one another, their breaths clouding in the night.
Nick narrowed his eyes at Cody. “You know,” he said in his normal voice, “if I didn’t know you better, Cody, that would sound exactly like you didn’t believe I heard gunfire.”
Cody raised a finger and opened his mouth to object.
Nearby, a branch cracked sharply. The two of them hit the ground in tandem, guns cocked and pointed at the sky as they both looked around, wide-eyed.
Around them, the marina lay dark and still. Gone one a.m. and even the diehard dot-com partiers down at slip 14 had dialed it down to one soft golden light in the salon and a song about old pictures, floating softly across to them on the breeze. Other than that, the night was quiet, filled with the sounds of waves slapping against the docks and the occasional squeak of fiberglass against water-swollen wood. They were far enough north that the Berkeley foghorn wouldn’t reach them, and this late at night the traffic noise from in town was nothing more than the occasional shush.
A few moments later Nick spoke. “Maybe you were right, Cody.” He shrugged against Cody’s shoulder. “Maybe I was just imagining it.”
The sharp crack of a gunshot split the night, echoing off the mountain-sides. It was followed by raucous laughter, then a second gunshot. This close the sounds couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.
“Okay,” Cody admitted softly. “Maybe you were right after all, buddy.”
But Nick was already up and gone, running in the direction of the gunfire.
With a weary sigh, Cody rose to his feet and followed at a jog.
The southern edge of the marina jutted out into the water, and even though all their docks were full, many of the slips lay empty as their tenants had taken advantage of the weather and taken their boats up or down the coast overnight. The marina was bounded by a high chain-link fence, beyond which lay a vacant restaurant. Cody rounded the hill in time to see Nick jump down over the fence and run for the abandoned building.
“Nick!” Cody called, tucking the Beretta back in his waistband. “Wait up!”
Scaling the fence took him some time, and he reached the restaurant’s parking lot in time to find his partner surrounded by a group of shame-faced youths. “This isn’t a toy,” Nick spat. “Someone could’ve been killed.” He held an air rifle by the stock. Cody could see the outline of the 9mm under his sweater.
“We were just messin’!” complained one of the kids. Acne scarred both cheeks and he wore a Giants baseball cap turned sideways. “Who’s it hurting out here?” A couple of his friends chimed in with agreements.
“Let me tell you something about guns,” Nick started. The kids groaned. He launched into a tirade and Cody, who tended to lose focus during these moments, found himself distracted by the sight of an empty can rolling gently against the edge of the restaurant’s dumpster. Frowning, Cody knelt and gingerly poked at the can. He was rewarded with a soft mew.
Tugging gently at the can, Cody found it was pockmarked with pellets, and a thick cord anchored it to--
“Hey, Nick!” Cody called. “C’mere!”
Nick arrived at a run, dropping a hand on Cody’s back as Cody gently tugged at the knot anchoring the can to a thin, fuzzy tail. “What’s wrong, Cody? What happened? Are you hurt?”
“Not me, buddy. But I think this little guy--” Cody succeeded in loosening the knot. “Might be glad you heard those shots when you did.” He extended a hand, wiggling his fingers, until a tiny orange kitten emerged from under the dumpster.
“Priaoo-ow!”
Cody grinned. “C’mere little guy. C’mere. Up you go.” He scooped up the kitten and held it to his chest. Still grinning, he looked over at Nick. “Cute little fella, isn’t he?”
Nick scowled. “No.”
“Of course he is. Especially now Uncle Nick scared off those mean old kids.” The parking lot around them had become mysteriously empty. “I bet he’s hungry, though. Aren’t ya, little buddy?”
“No, Cody. Put him down. No.”
“Aw come on, Nick. Look at him.”
“No.”
“Look at him, Nick! He can’t be more than a couple months old. Poor little guy must be scared to death.”
“No, Cody. No. Put the kitten down. We live on a boat. Cody, no kittens.”
Cody opened his mouth to object but Nick pre-empted him. “Quinn doesn’t count. That cat is not and never has been a kitten. Besides, what d’you think he’ll do when you bring home a new guy, huh? Probably tear him to shreds.”
Cody turned away, protectively sheltering the kitten in his arms. “Nick!” The kitten added another mew in protest.
Nick dropped his head. “All right. But just one meal, then he’s gotta go, okay, Cody?”
Cody met Nick’s gaze and his grin widened. They both knew when Nick was beat.
“Aw, c’mon, man. Let’s head home.” Nick’s hand grazed the small of Cody’s back, then he turned back the direction they came.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Nick? I don’t think this little guy’s in any shape to climb. Looks like we’re gonna have to take the long way home.”
Nick shook his head, but turned in the direction of the street leading back to the marina’s entrance, the confiscated rifle swinging gently from one hand. Cody fell into companionable step beside him. The kitten burrowed against his shoulder and began purring as they started down the sidewalk.
“You know what kittens need, Cody? Food. Food and attention.”
“Sure thing, Nick.”
“Don’t sure thing me, Cody. You’ve been spoiled just ‘cause Quinn’s such an asshole. Just you wait, man. You’ll see. You wouldn’t believe how much kittens eat.”
“Oh yeah? And what made you such an expert on kittens, Nick? I thought you didn’t have any pets growing up.”
“It’s just something I know, Cody.”
“Just something you know.”
“Yeah, just something I know, okay?”
They looked in each direction before crossing the intersection under a lone flashing red light. “Quinn’s gonna love him, Nick. I can tell.”
“When has Quinn loved anything in the entire time we’ve had him?”
“You’re just mad ‘cause you keep aggravating him. Then he has no choice but to bite you.”
The thick blanket of fog that lay heavy over the ocean had crawled up over the cliffs and was starting to stake a claim on the edge of town as they walked. As they turned in at the gates of the marina, it lay thick and wet over the boats lying docile in their slips, muffling all but the most necessary sounds of the night.
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no subject
Date: 2013-08-31 02:10 pm (UTC)And poor Nick...a kitten! squee!!!
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Date: 2013-08-31 08:43 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading!
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Date: 2013-08-31 06:44 pm (UTC)*cue wordless flail of glee*
Because KITTEN. And Nick. And Cody being indulgently smug about it all.
*moar flailing*
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Date: 2013-08-31 08:45 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you like it! Thanks for commenting!