(Rather than write the same vaguedrivel, here is a pretty gif to inspire you, a link to the weather for the week, and a link to londonist, a great resource for all things London related. As always this post is open all week. Tag in, tag others, check back often!)
Davey nodded and reached for the meter to zero it out. Then he headed for
the nearest filling station that he knew had a small market attached.
Pulling in to park, he kiled the engine and looked back at his far.
"I'm D. Davey," he said. It said as much on his permit on the back of the
seat. David Hunt, along with his license number. Driving a taxi may well be
the only legal thing he did. He did take pride in his license, though. It
had been bloody hard to get.
"Let's go in. You mind if I smoke in the taxi?" he asked. From the smell of
it it certainly wouldn't be the first he'd had in the car, but he didn't
smoke while he had a fare in the seat. But this wasn't exactly the normal
fare. More like mates, but not quite that, either.
"No, mate. Good to have company. Let's go in and get some drinks. Might buy
a packet of crisps, too. Then we can loiter until the police come along and
tell me to move it," he grinned. Then Davey climbed out into the cold rain
and waited for Danny so they could go in the shop together.
Inside the shop it was brightly lit, fluorescent lights making sure nothing
cast a shadow. Davey picked up a packet of crisps on his way to the
beverage station where he chose a black tea and poured a cup of water right
from the boiler.
"You're about the quietest person I've had in my cab all week, Danny," he
said. "You just naturally quiet?"
"Lately, yeah," Danny admitted, shrugging one shoulder.
In the harsh light his face was still visibly bruised. Not swollen, but
slightly blue and yellow, and just behind his ear was a small patch of
shaved hair with visible stitches.
"Since you got that? Or did they get you because you wouldn't speak up?" D
asked. He was just making conversation, there was no judgment in his tone.
And in his dark eyes there was only curiosity and the gaze of a man who had
probably seen many, many bruises.
"I got it because I had something someone else wanted. Something no one wanted me to have," he said calmly. "I'd rather not talk about it though, if it's all the same to you."
Davey held up one hand in surrender, his paper cup in the other hand.
"Not my business," he said, putting it to bed. He knew how to keep his
mouth shut and he knew how to not ask too many questions, especially when
it was bad for him to know anything at all.
"You take sugar?" he asked instead, picking up two packets for himself.
D passed him the packets he held and took up two more for himself. He fixed
his tea and put the lid on, then wandered away from Danny to the counter.
He got cigarettes and a pack for Danny since he'd seen the man's packet and
he paid for the whole assortment with a single bill. He smiled at the shop
girl who blushed at his attention.
"You ready, mate? I need a fag something awful. Come on," he said and
headed for he door. "It's paid...come on, Danny."
"Yeah, you can pay me when I get you home," he replied. The rain had picked
up a bit so when they got back to the taxi it was a blessing to be dry and
warm. Davey put his tea in the cup holder and started the engine so he
could lower the windows. Before tea he needed a cigarette so he broke into
his packet and fished out a lighter.
"Oh here," he said, lowering the lighter to pass Danny a pack of his brand.
"You can pay me back for those when you can."
Danny didn't want to spell it out, just in case the other man took offence.
"I just mean, if there was something you wanted... I could give you that," he said, lighting his cigarette, and making a show of wrapping his lips around it.
Danny was good at provoking a reaction, and hoped that make his offer a bit more clear.
D knew exactly what Danny was offering, but he'd wanted to be sure. Never
knew when someone might take a wrong meaning or might be offering one thing
and not another. But it seemed they were on the same page and Davey tucked
his fag between his lips and smiled.
"Then I think we can work something out," he said as he shifted in his
seat. He undid his fly and spread his legs to get comfortable.
Danny had done this plenty of times before, and at least this car was clean.
It didn't take long, Danny knew exactly what he was doing, and once it was over he opened the car door a crack to spit on the pavement, then picked up his tea to take a sip.
"I might know a couple blokes doing some hiring. It'd be cash...not exactly
tax payers, these guys. You want a number?" Davey asked. He had a sense
about people and one thing he knew...anyone who'd blow a bloke for smokes
and cab fare wasn't likely to be too choosy about paying work.
"I'll think about it," Danny replied, not ready to give up on finding real
work just yet. "I had a good job for a while, but my mate, my boss, he's
had to stop for a while. Recovering from a gunshot wound. ...I'm hoping
when he's better I'll still have work with him."
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Davey nodded and reached for the meter to zero it out. Then he headed for the nearest filling station that he knew had a small market attached. Pulling in to park, he kiled the engine and looked back at his far.
"I'm D. Davey," he said. It said as much on his permit on the back of the seat. David Hunt, along with his license number. Driving a taxi may well be the only legal thing he did. He did take pride in his license, though. It had been bloody hard to get.
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"Let's go in. You mind if I smoke in the taxi?" he asked. From the smell of it it certainly wouldn't be the first he'd had in the car, but he didn't smoke while he had a fare in the seat. But this wasn't exactly the normal fare. More like mates, but not quite that, either.
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"I don't mind. Do you mind if I have one as well?" he asked, pulling a wrinkled pack from his pocket and holding it up in show.
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"No, mate. Good to have company. Let's go in and get some drinks. Might buy a packet of crisps, too. Then we can loiter until the police come along and tell me to move it," he grinned. Then Davey climbed out into the cold rain and waited for Danny so they could go in the shop together.
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Inside the shop it was brightly lit, fluorescent lights making sure nothing cast a shadow. Davey picked up a packet of crisps on his way to the beverage station where he chose a black tea and poured a cup of water right from the boiler.
"You're about the quietest person I've had in my cab all week, Danny," he said. "You just naturally quiet?"
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"Lately, yeah," Danny admitted, shrugging one shoulder.
In the harsh light his face was still visibly bruised. Not swollen, but slightly blue and yellow, and just behind his ear was a small patch of shaved hair with visible stitches.
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"Since you got that? Or did they get you because you wouldn't speak up?" D asked. He was just making conversation, there was no judgment in his tone. And in his dark eyes there was only curiosity and the gaze of a man who had probably seen many, many bruises.
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"I got it because I had something someone else wanted. Something no one wanted me to have," he said calmly. "I'd rather not talk about it though, if it's all the same to you."
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Davey held up one hand in surrender, his paper cup in the other hand.
"Not my business," he said, putting it to bed. He knew how to keep his mouth shut and he knew how to not ask too many questions, especially when it was bad for him to know anything at all.
"You take sugar?" he asked instead, picking up two packets for himself.
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Danny relaxed a little then, and nodded.
"Please," he said simply.
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D passed him the packets he held and took up two more for himself. He fixed his tea and put the lid on, then wandered away from Danny to the counter. He got cigarettes and a pack for Danny since he'd seen the man's packet and he paid for the whole assortment with a single bill. He smiled at the shop girl who blushed at his attention.
"You ready, mate? I need a fag something awful. Come on," he said and headed for he door. "It's paid...come on, Danny."
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"Thanks," he said after a moment. "But, I'd feel better if you let me pay for something. At least let me pay you what I owed for the ride."
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"Yeah, you can pay me when I get you home," he replied. The rain had picked up a bit so when they got back to the taxi it was a blessing to be dry and warm. Davey put his tea in the cup holder and started the engine so he could lower the windows. Before tea he needed a cigarette so he broke into his packet and fished out a lighter.
"Oh here," he said, lowering the lighter to pass Danny a pack of his brand. "You can pay me back for those when you can."
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"Are you sure?" Danny asked, though his fingers itched to take the pack. "I'm not exactly, um, gainfully employed right now."
He paused a beat, then said something he knew would crush Hex if he ever found out.
"I can pay you back another way. ...Um, I mean- If you want," he offered.
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"Yeah? What else you got?" he asked as he sparked his cigarette and took a deep drag.
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"I just mean, if there was something you wanted... I could give you that," he said, lighting his cigarette, and making a show of wrapping his lips around it.
Danny was good at provoking a reaction, and hoped that make his offer a bit more clear.
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D knew exactly what Danny was offering, but he'd wanted to be sure. Never knew when someone might take a wrong meaning or might be offering one thing and not another. But it seemed they were on the same page and Davey tucked his fag between his lips and smiled.
"Then I think we can work something out," he said as he shifted in his seat. He undid his fly and spread his legs to get comfortable.
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It didn't take long, Danny knew exactly what he was doing, and once it was over he opened the car door a crack to spit on the pavement, then picked up his tea to take a sip.
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Davey took one last drag and tossed his butt out the window. As Danny sipped his tea he tucked himself away and zipped up.
"In between jobs, huh? What sort of work do you do?" D asked, picking up the conversation again as if nothing had happened.
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"Whatever work I can get," Danny said honestly. "Small jobs, mostly. Washing dishes, stuff like that."
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"I might know a couple blokes doing some hiring. It'd be cash...not exactly tax payers, these guys. You want a number?" Davey asked. He had a sense about people and one thing he knew...anyone who'd blow a bloke for smokes and cab fare wasn't likely to be too choosy about paying work.
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"I'll think about it," Danny replied, not ready to give up on finding real work just yet. "I had a good job for a while, but my mate, my boss, he's had to stop for a while. Recovering from a gunshot wound. ...I'm hoping when he's better I'll still have work with him."
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That Davey didn't bat an eye at the news of being shot spoke volumes. He only nodded.
"Here's hoping there will be work when he's better. Until then I can probably get you in with Michael. He always needs delivery boys who aren't nosy."
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