Title: Never Let You Fall
Rating: T
A/N: Ever just want to write but can't manage something with plot? That's how I've been the last couple days, soo… each 100 words on the dot. There's no real rhyme or reason, but count on most of them to be somewhat angsty or at least dealing with the darker side of their work/thoughts.
"Heineken." Hanson drops down onto the stool next to Doug, tapping his wallet on the wooden surface of the bar. "How you doing?"
"I'm doing," his partner replies shortly, his eyes never leaving the glass in front of him. A moment later, he repeats himself. "I'm doing."
"Really." It isn't a question. Tom doesn't expect a response and doesn't get one. He nods to the bartender as a bottle is set in front of him, and once the man moves off, he and Doug sit in silence, until finally Penhall breaks it.
"It's hard."
"It is."
"Never gets easier."
"Nope."
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Dennis holds the joint up to his lips, turning his head away so his latest group of 'friends' won't realize that he doesn't actually smoke it, and in the back of his mind a thought he's pushed down a thousand times makes its presence known once more.
How much harm could it do, huh? Look at these kids. Take a look. What're they hurting? When was the last time you felt that good?
He buries it again, but is fully conscious of the fact that it's less than a halfhearted effort.
What's the big deal?
He takes a deep breath.
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"Buy you a drink?" Judy smiles down at Fuller, who's sitting alone at a corner table way in the back. "You know what they say about drinking alone?"
"First sign of alcoholism," he replies with a smile that isn't quite genuine. "Don't know that I'm too concerned with first signs anymore, Hoffs." It's the most open and honest she thinks he's ever been with her, and she wonders if she's reading too much into it to think that he might be talking to her as a friend right now. "This job…"
She nods and signals a waitress. "I hear that."
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"Still here? I thought I was the only one left."
Harry looks up at Blowfish. "Yeah."
"Where's everyone else?"
"They have dates."
"Penhall?"
"Date."
"Fuller?" The man looks incredulous.
Harry nods the affirmative. "Date."
"Hanson and Hoffs?"
"Dates. Together."
"No kidding?" The look on the janitor's face makes it clear he's annoyed for not seeing the signs himself.
"No kidding." Harry sighs.
After a moment, Blowfish speaks again. "So, what about your date? You got one, right?"
"Right." He taps the manila folder in front of him. "Right here. Except she's sixteen. And she's dead."
Blowfish is silent after that.
There will probably be more; review and let me know if I should write any more :) Thanks!