Prompt: A conversation in a jail cell.
Spoilers: Pre-series friendship piece. Beyond that, everything we learned in these 10 episodes is up for grabs.
Warnings: No standard warnings apply.
A/N: I grabbed a prompt from a writing calendar I have and just let the muses have it. I kind of like what happened here. I need to let my Amani muse out to play more often.
Dedication: This is part of a series of stories to thank the phenomenal creative team of Damien, both in front of and behind the camera.
Series: Part 9 of the #666foryou series
Please see profile for Disclaimers.
"This is all your fault."
That makes him laugh, head thunking dully against the cinderblock wall behind us when he tosses it backwards. He rubs it gingerly, swearing under his breath, then smiles at me. "Not in the slightest. You're the one that dragged me into that dive bar."
"On a dare from you! Man, you need to check yourself for brain damage when we get outta here. I think that gut rot you were drinking messed with you."
"Nah! I'm good. Might have a bit of a hangover in the morning, but I can handle that." He squints as he stares at me. "How you gonna explain to your mom and your sisters that you couldn't skype with them because you're in a jail cell tonight?"
My heart sinks into my gut at the realization of what he's just said. "No way, man. You get to explain to them why I've got a criminal record now."
"Me? Not gonna happen, my friend."
"I can't believe it," I say, grinning broadly. "Is the great Damien Thorn, war photographer extraordinaire, wimping out on talking to a couple of women about something he caused?"
"I don't pussy out of things, Amani, and you know it."
"But you won't explain this to my mother because…"
He sighs and leans forward to cradle his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. "How was I supposed to know that girl was the owner's girlfriend? She hit on me, not the other way around. I wasn't even interested in buying her a drink, let alone anything else."
"Then you should've told the guy that and nipped it in the bud."
"He swung at me first! I had to defend myself, didn't I?"
That makes me laugh. "Man, the guy's swing was nowhere near you. He was just as drunk as you were. You coulda just let him think he hit and intimidated you, and we'd be home free right now."
Before he can reply, one of the cops comes up to the front of the cell. "Thorn, Golkar, you're up to be processed out. The charges were dropped."
We're both on our feet instantly, heading for the door as it swings open, and Damien asks, "What the hell made him change his mind?"
"Apparently, the guy thought it was more important to cut a deal about serving underage girls in his club, including the one you two were fighting over."
As we follow the officer to get our stuff back, I laugh and shake my head. "Man, you're still gonna tell my mom what happened if she asks."
"Fine. But you're buying breakfast."