A/N: Missing scene from Kiss Kiss Bang Bang; between Harry shooting Mr. Fire and Perry telling Harmony to back off before she got both Harry & Perry killed. If you don't get what I'm talking about, you need to see the movie again. But read the fic before you do. And after of course.
Keeper
In all fairness, it wasn't his fault.
It had been cold, he'd been understandably confused and he'd had a girl dressed like a fucking christmas bunny attached to him. There's only so much a guy can process with that much baggage. But fuck that. That wasn't important right now. It wasn't even important that some fucking sonofabitch had shot at him. It wasn't even important that he had to handle a shivering, whimpering mess of woman when his own brain couldn't process beyond the words oh fuck. All that was irrelevant. What was important was that the biggest fucking idiot in LA had managed to lose himself.
That's right. Harry-fucking-Lockhart had lost himself.
Jesus he was running around with a pair of fucking idiots. Who in fuck's holiness leaves their fucking keys in their fucking car? And he doesn't know whether to thank Harmony for saving him or leaving Harry (Harry of the streetsmart of a fucking eight year old) behind in the process. (Was that even correct? Pluperfect tense can be such a bitch sometimes.)
Then he thinks that this is all unecessarily complicated. Fuck it. Call him. What's the worst that could happen?
(Could I be saying fuck more? Bothers you? Blow me.)
He looks at Harmony and all he can make out is legs,runny makeup and a snotty nose.
And of course the icing on the cake, the fucking christmas bunny outfit. He just sighs and dials.
The phone rings and when Harry actually answers Perry doesn't know whether to hug him or kick the shit out of him.
"Where the hell are you?"
Of course as Harry continues talking, the urge to kick the shit out of him begins to take preference. (I mean, for fuck's sake.)
"Get the finger. Kill the dog. Get out of there."
His temper just keeps skyrocketing as Harry keeps babbling. (It's like the fuckhead has no survival instincts at all.)
And that's when the bomb drops.
"Hey Perry? I... I shot a guy. I never done that before..."
And even as Perry's mentally correcting that sentence the phone dies on him.
Fuck.
Perry's hands automatically begin redialling the number; his eyes straying towards Harmony.
She's out cold on the sofa, all cried out for Harry apparently.
And when the ringing stops, all he hears is incoherent words and hiccups.
Perry swears again. (It's almost like the fucking moron needs a keeper.)
"Just stay there, chief. I'm coming to get you."
And after driving around what seems like a fucking maze; he reaches the place Harry told him about. (Kid's got no fucking sense of direction. No fucking sense at all actually.) Even as he walks up the driveway he's working in his head. (Get Harry out, clean the place, get his fucking hand fixed, get rid of Harmony's fucking car)
And that's when he sees Harry. Harry, who's bawling like a fucking baby into the damned dog. And looking like so fucking pathetic it almost breaks his heart. For a beat Perry doesn't know what to do. It's been a long time since that's happened.
The thing is, he gets Harmony. Harmony's like him. She's normal, she gets that the world isn't a happy, sunshiny place where the icecream truck comes around and the nice man buys you an orange popsicle. This is LA. Here the icecream truck is a seedy car and the nice man is probably going to whack you over the head before fucking you over in some dark alley. That was how it worked. That was how it has always worked. It's been like that in LA. It's been like that in New York.
And that's why he doesn't get Harry. Perry's no fool, he's seen the world. He's seen people fuck over their kids, kids fuck over their parents. Hell he's even seen this old lady come to the park to shoot down pigeons. (But who's he to judge? Pigeons are annoying little fuckheads anyway.)
But Harry.. Harry's like this wide eyed little kid who looks like he's straight out of fucking sunday school. He reminds Perry of the times when the most important things in your life were recess at school and saturday morning cartoons. Here the icecream truck is an icecream truck, and Harry's the kid that's taking the popsicle (that's really just a popsicle) from the nice man.
But see the point is, Perry's not a nice man. Hell, he's even told Harry so. So he doesn't get why he's here in the first place. Doesn't get why ten minutes later, he's half carrying, half helping Harry out towards his car. It feels weird being the nice man. (Though it isn't so great having snot all over his fucking clothes. That and miraculously managing to get rid of Harmony's fucking car. Fucking idiots.) Maybe it was because his own dad was a fucking asshole. Maybe it was because Harry looked like that kid who's just been told there was no Santa Claus. Who the hell cares?
He knows it's not his fault. He wasn't kidding, he's normally not a nice man. He's cold, he's ruthless, he loves his job and he's good at it.
He knows that even though there's really no need to be Harry-fucking-Lockhart's fucking keeper, he still does it. He just doesn't know why he does it.
But all that's not important now. What's important is that Harry-fucking-Lockhart; the biggest idiot in the free world has been found. What's important is that there's a lot of work to be done and Perry has a lot of loose ends to tie up. The whys and hows of the matter can be explored another day.
-fin-