Haven, Maine, Thursday Fandom time
Aug. 6th, 2020 10:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
betterthanaplanAs time went by, Duke checked Portalocity less and less. His life in Haven was busy; he was still pulling odd jobs on the docks in the mornings and getting ready to open the Grey Gull in the afternoons, and living on a boat took much more time and effort than living in a hotel room did, especially an older one like the Sanguine Moon. Gus hadn't exactly kept it in tip-top shape, and while Duke was perfectly happy living on a boat that looked junky on the outside, he liked his living space to be neat and orderly.
Eventually, after three weeks of the little crying gnome graphic, he stopped checking it entirely. They knew he was stuck. They'd send him a message when they were servicing this dimension again. Or Fandom would just kidnap him back. In the meantime, he had a staff to hire. A sign to paint. Weird stains to clean up. Troubles to dodge.
He wasn't happy, but he was busy. For much of his life, those had felt like they were just about the same thing. And, like he had for most of his life, he covered his frustrations and sadness in a thick haze of alcohol and parties.
The Grey Gull opened with a bang. One that ran from Wednesday right through Friday night, featuring specialty cocktails and festive string lights and many, many, many drunken locals. Apparently there was one thing Haven found a Crocker useful for that wasn't the family trouble: getting really, thoroughly smashed.
Audrey showed up Friday night after dark, waving around a pretty grotesque photo of a dead guy. Which was either going to throw his patrons off their buzz or egg it right on, Duke wasn't sure which. He watched her grow frustrated with people's unwillingness to get questioned by the local pokey while getting their drink on and climb up on a chair.
"Hey! People of the Grey Gull! If any of you know this dude, and you can come and tell me anything, you drink free!"
No one bit. Or even looked her way.
"For a month!" Duke said. Everyone cheered as he made his way through the crowd to her, grabbing the photo and tugging her down off the chair. "Your work here is done." He turned to hand the photo off to the nearest patron, then turned back. "So. What are you drinking?"
"I'm not drinking, actually."
"Audrey." Duke dipped his chin, trying to catch her eye as she scanned the crowd, cop-face still in full force. "It's my grand reopening party. Have a drink."
"I really can't —" She picked a red martini off a passing waitress's tray. "Okay, just one."
Duke smiled knowingly and watched her take a sip. "It is Friday night."
"That's true," she said off-handedly. Hurriedly. "And this is good by the way."
"Thank you."
"But I really need to canvas the crowd."
Duke sighed. "Would you relax if I told you that nobody here knows your dead guy?"
Her eyes went a little wide. "Wait, how do you know that?"
"People like to talk. I like to listen."
"No, but what — what are you talking about?"
Duke crouched a little so they were closer to the same level. "Officer Parker. You need to clock out now."
She smirked and shook her head. "Okay, well. Coming from a man who's never worked a day in his life, that doesn't really mean that much."
Duke had barely slept in a month, trying to make ends meet and get this damn bar opened. He ran a restaurant and taught classes in Fandom. And it wasn't as though his life before Fandom had been a sunny, relaxed vacation. His smile went just a little sharp at the edges before he managed to rein it in, reminding himself that this was his relationship with Audrey. They teased each other. It didn't mean she actually thought he didn't take his work seriously.
He adopted the same tone back at her. "Now, that's not how friends talk to each other. And I feel like, at this point, we're friends, right?"
Audrey sipped her drink and tilted her head with a little wry smile.
"And as your friend, I worry about you," Duke continued, getting more serious again now. He and Claire had been working on this (more work he'd been putting in lately). He could express his opinion and concern in healthy ways. Audrey pulled the olive out of her martini and bit it off the toothpick with a grin, which wasn't making any of this easier. "All you do is work. And it would be sad if you realized one day that you forgot to live your life."
"Yeah, well." She waved her toothpick. "If I keep eating this unhealthy, I'm not going to have a life to forget about."
That he could take care of. "You quit working for just one night, and I will cook you a healthy, delicious dinner."
Audrey grinned, already shaking her head. "Oh, that is so sweet, but —"
"Next Friday night," Duke insisted. "Right here."
"You? Plan something in advance? Yeah, no, that's not going to happen."
Again, they were standing in the bar he'd spent the last month getting ready to open. Duke was starting to wonder if she just didn't know how to actually talk to people outside of a case. Which made him wonder what case she thought she'd been working on him the last few weeks when she'd come find him.
"I bet you you cancel before I do," he said. As expected, she rose to the challenge.
"Not a chance."
"Mmhm. I can hear the phone call now." Duke backed away, making his hand into a little phone. "'Oh, sorry, Duke, I can't make it. The future of mankind depends on me.'"
She smiled back at him, shaking her head, until the crowd filled in between them and he lost sight of her.
Right. He had a dinner to plan. Something that could impress a former FBI agent who apparently thought of him as a shiftless drifter.
Good thing he finally seemed to be making some decent money, around here.
Duke was unloading supplies from the old truck he'd borrowed from Gloria's boyfriend when the Bronco pulled up to the Gull for the first time. Nathan and Audrey made straight for him, already talking shop. Duke tried not to brace himself. And failed. He was at least pretty sure Nathan was too oblivious to notice.
"Haven's finest," he greeted. Nathan gave him his best squinty cop look.
"We're looking into the death of Joe Campbell."
"Yeah, I heard about that. Some nasty stuff." Aging to death. Generally considered the right way to go, but not when you were only in your mid-thirties.
"Do you remember the woman he was making out with at the bar on Friday night?" Audrey asked.
Well. At least they were only potentially going to try to pin accessory to murder on him this time.
"I think it's very sweet that you still say 'making out'," Duke said, grabbing the next crate. "Sorry I can't be more helpful. I only saw the back of her. I've heard Joe had a thing for tourists, though."
"Anyone in particular?" Audrey asked, like Duke was somehow being stubborn and not flat out answering their questions.
"Ones he wasn't married to. Guess that's why he's not married anymore."
Audrey nodded a little. "Alright. Is Nora working today?"
"Yeah." Nora had been a hell of a score. Quick, competent, and perfectly capable of working independently without trying to sword-fight the barback or get in on the ground floor of the turnip trade. Almost like how employees in the food industry should be. "Oh, hey, we still on?"
"Yeah yeah yeah," Audrey said quickly, over her shoulder while she tried to shepherd Nathan into the Gull. Like she was ashamed to be having dinner with him.
Or like the guy she worked with might react poorly to hearing she was having dinner with him. Which, judging by the glare Nathan was sending his way, was not outside the realm of possibility.
He was jealous. It was cute. Duke wondered if he was more jealous of him, or of Audrey.
"Don't be working too hard now, Officer Wuornos," Duke called, a slightly evil grin on his face. "'Cause I heard being a cop? Can destroy all evidence of having a personality."
Nathan glared harder. Duke counted that as a win, and kept talking even as Nathan turned to follow Audrey into his bar.
"Just . . . suck it. Right out of you."
Yeah. That was going to be fun.
[NFB, NFI, OOC welcome. Adapted from 1x05, Ball and Chain. MORE TRAUMA INCOMING!]
Eventually, after three weeks of the little crying gnome graphic, he stopped checking it entirely. They knew he was stuck. They'd send him a message when they were servicing this dimension again. Or Fandom would just kidnap him back. In the meantime, he had a staff to hire. A sign to paint. Weird stains to clean up. Troubles to dodge.
He wasn't happy, but he was busy. For much of his life, those had felt like they were just about the same thing. And, like he had for most of his life, he covered his frustrations and sadness in a thick haze of alcohol and parties.
The Grey Gull opened with a bang. One that ran from Wednesday right through Friday night, featuring specialty cocktails and festive string lights and many, many, many drunken locals. Apparently there was one thing Haven found a Crocker useful for that wasn't the family trouble: getting really, thoroughly smashed.
Audrey showed up Friday night after dark, waving around a pretty grotesque photo of a dead guy. Which was either going to throw his patrons off their buzz or egg it right on, Duke wasn't sure which. He watched her grow frustrated with people's unwillingness to get questioned by the local pokey while getting their drink on and climb up on a chair.
"Hey! People of the Grey Gull! If any of you know this dude, and you can come and tell me anything, you drink free!"
No one bit. Or even looked her way.
"For a month!" Duke said. Everyone cheered as he made his way through the crowd to her, grabbing the photo and tugging her down off the chair. "Your work here is done." He turned to hand the photo off to the nearest patron, then turned back. "So. What are you drinking?"
"I'm not drinking, actually."
"Audrey." Duke dipped his chin, trying to catch her eye as she scanned the crowd, cop-face still in full force. "It's my grand reopening party. Have a drink."
"I really can't —" She picked a red martini off a passing waitress's tray. "Okay, just one."
Duke smiled knowingly and watched her take a sip. "It is Friday night."
"That's true," she said off-handedly. Hurriedly. "And this is good by the way."
"Thank you."
"But I really need to canvas the crowd."
Duke sighed. "Would you relax if I told you that nobody here knows your dead guy?"
Her eyes went a little wide. "Wait, how do you know that?"
"People like to talk. I like to listen."
"No, but what — what are you talking about?"
Duke crouched a little so they were closer to the same level. "Officer Parker. You need to clock out now."
She smirked and shook her head. "Okay, well. Coming from a man who's never worked a day in his life, that doesn't really mean that much."
Duke had barely slept in a month, trying to make ends meet and get this damn bar opened. He ran a restaurant and taught classes in Fandom. And it wasn't as though his life before Fandom had been a sunny, relaxed vacation. His smile went just a little sharp at the edges before he managed to rein it in, reminding himself that this was his relationship with Audrey. They teased each other. It didn't mean she actually thought he didn't take his work seriously.
He adopted the same tone back at her. "Now, that's not how friends talk to each other. And I feel like, at this point, we're friends, right?"
Audrey sipped her drink and tilted her head with a little wry smile.
"And as your friend, I worry about you," Duke continued, getting more serious again now. He and Claire had been working on this (more work he'd been putting in lately). He could express his opinion and concern in healthy ways. Audrey pulled the olive out of her martini and bit it off the toothpick with a grin, which wasn't making any of this easier. "All you do is work. And it would be sad if you realized one day that you forgot to live your life."
"Yeah, well." She waved her toothpick. "If I keep eating this unhealthy, I'm not going to have a life to forget about."
That he could take care of. "You quit working for just one night, and I will cook you a healthy, delicious dinner."
Audrey grinned, already shaking her head. "Oh, that is so sweet, but —"
"Next Friday night," Duke insisted. "Right here."
"You? Plan something in advance? Yeah, no, that's not going to happen."
Again, they were standing in the bar he'd spent the last month getting ready to open. Duke was starting to wonder if she just didn't know how to actually talk to people outside of a case. Which made him wonder what case she thought she'd been working on him the last few weeks when she'd come find him.
"I bet you you cancel before I do," he said. As expected, she rose to the challenge.
"Not a chance."
"Mmhm. I can hear the phone call now." Duke backed away, making his hand into a little phone. "'Oh, sorry, Duke, I can't make it. The future of mankind depends on me.'"
She smiled back at him, shaking her head, until the crowd filled in between them and he lost sight of her.
Right. He had a dinner to plan. Something that could impress a former FBI agent who apparently thought of him as a shiftless drifter.
Good thing he finally seemed to be making some decent money, around here.
Duke was unloading supplies from the old truck he'd borrowed from Gloria's boyfriend when the Bronco pulled up to the Gull for the first time. Nathan and Audrey made straight for him, already talking shop. Duke tried not to brace himself. And failed. He was at least pretty sure Nathan was too oblivious to notice.
"Haven's finest," he greeted. Nathan gave him his best squinty cop look.
"We're looking into the death of Joe Campbell."
"Yeah, I heard about that. Some nasty stuff." Aging to death. Generally considered the right way to go, but not when you were only in your mid-thirties.
"Do you remember the woman he was making out with at the bar on Friday night?" Audrey asked.
Well. At least they were only potentially going to try to pin accessory to murder on him this time.
"I think it's very sweet that you still say 'making out'," Duke said, grabbing the next crate. "Sorry I can't be more helpful. I only saw the back of her. I've heard Joe had a thing for tourists, though."
"Anyone in particular?" Audrey asked, like Duke was somehow being stubborn and not flat out answering their questions.
"Ones he wasn't married to. Guess that's why he's not married anymore."
Audrey nodded a little. "Alright. Is Nora working today?"
"Yeah." Nora had been a hell of a score. Quick, competent, and perfectly capable of working independently without trying to sword-fight the barback or get in on the ground floor of the turnip trade. Almost like how employees in the food industry should be. "Oh, hey, we still on?"
"Yeah yeah yeah," Audrey said quickly, over her shoulder while she tried to shepherd Nathan into the Gull. Like she was ashamed to be having dinner with him.
Or like the guy she worked with might react poorly to hearing she was having dinner with him. Which, judging by the glare Nathan was sending his way, was not outside the realm of possibility.
He was jealous. It was cute. Duke wondered if he was more jealous of him, or of Audrey.
"Don't be working too hard now, Officer Wuornos," Duke called, a slightly evil grin on his face. "'Cause I heard being a cop? Can destroy all evidence of having a personality."
Nathan glared harder. Duke counted that as a win, and kept talking even as Nathan turned to follow Audrey into his bar.
"Just . . . suck it. Right out of you."
Yeah. That was going to be fun.
[NFB, NFI, OOC welcome. Adapted from 1x05, Ball and Chain. MORE TRAUMA INCOMING!]
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Date: 2020-08-06 03:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-08-06 03:59 pm (UTC)