AN: I was listening to the radio one day and heard the song 'Good Directions' by Billy Currington and I thought it would make a cute Nellis AU. I shared this with Zphalgirl87 and she agreed, so we decided to do a little collab fic set to it.
Ellis had always liked to be helpful to others, so he was happy to aid his grandpa whenever he needed it with the garden he kept behind his house, and would offer to sit out in the hot sun in place of the elderly man and sell whatever excess vegetables he had grown. The old road that ran into downtown had always been best for selling produce- folks driving in to go to the postal office or hardware supply found it convenient to stop and buy out of the back of his truck on their way back home. The young man pulled down the tailgate and rearranged the sampling of vegetables, making them presentable in their plastic milk crates. He'd plucked all the tubers out of the ground early that morning as the sun was on the rise, washing them up in the basin; he was hoping to sell the majority of them in the next few hours- they were best fresh from the earth like this.
Ellis readjusted his hat with a smile as he stepped back, satisfied by the arrangement of perky greens sticking out of the turnips and beets and carrots, and walked around to the passenger's side of his Ford to pull out his plywood price sign and his faithful guitar. He propped the former against the back tire and took a comfy seat on his tailgate, cuddling the latter in his lap. He took a couple of strums, grinning at the thrum reverberating through the instrument and then began in earnest, plucking the strings with his thick dirtied thumbnail as he hummed a tune he'd heard over the radio.
Mr. and Mrs. Weaver stopped on by and bought their usual two dozen sweet potatoes to feed their eight children that week, Charlie Brishim took a couple pounds of beets off his hands along with a few radishes, Pauline purchased a number of carrots to juice, just to name a few. Even ol' blind Marlie stopped on through, listening to his music a while before purchasing a little of everything to put in his paper sack; his golden retriever jumped up into his lap for some eager sloppy kisses and ruffles of his shimmery fur. Ellis laughed and wished them both well as they departed. His blue eyes lifted skyward, pushing the brim of his hat up to eye the sun's position in the clear blue expanse- nearly noon and already he'd sold a good half of his stock, his gramp would be happy to hear it.
Ellis set down his guitar to go grab the spray bottle, a few of his leafy tubers looking a little wilted from their time in the sunshine. It was as he was spritzing the carrots that he heard the sound of a car coming down the road and he turned to give a wave and smile to whoever it was.
His smile fell, lips parting with confusion when he saw a shiny silver Mercedes slow down and pull off the road into the dirt. No one 'round these parts drove anything like that. Shoot, nicest car he knew of was Miss Linda's 1968 Cadillac Coupe Deville, her pappy's pride and joy (the both of 'em, girl and car). He blinked, his eyes roving to the license plate of the vehicle- a fancy red cursive scrawl across the top that spelled out California. He let out a whistle, damn far from home! This area didn't often get tourists, especially from so far west.
The man that climbed out of the car next, however, was just as surprising as the vehicle he drove, dressed to the nines in a down-right immaculate color of white he hadn't ever seen the likes of before; not even his Ma's bleached sheets hanging out to dry on the line were quite that crisp. The man wore his dark auburn hair slicked back on his head, but his jaw was rough with stubble, and though his clothes were expensive, he wore them open at the top, unbuttoned such that his mat of chest hair poked from the gap. The dichotomy of suave and rugged was curious enough to make his heart skip a beat, but when a smirk cracked across his wolfish maw his breath was completely stolen away.
The well-dressed stranger walked around the front of his car to approach him, mouth curling down in distaste as his footsteps kicked up dust that dirtied the cuffs of his trouser legs and wingtip shoes. Ellis tried not to stare as he cleared his throat and smiled. "Hey there, can I help you with anythin'?"
The man's eyebrow quirked up a bit at his accent and Ellis felt a little self-conscious as steely eyes roamed up and down his form, sizing him up. A fancy west-coaster like him was probably thinking he'd discovered where rednecks came from. Nonetheless, the newcomer spoke. "Yeah kid, all the roads out here are starting to look the same to me and I've managed to get turned around." Ellis' eyebrows lifted. Damn, his voice was as nice on the ears as his looks were on the eyes. He took a couple of absent-minded plucks at the strings of his guitar; probably a baritone, if he had to reckon a guess. Jerry was their best baritone in the church choir, but even his voice wasn't anywhere near as smooth as this feller's was.
"Got yerself lost, huh?" he responded with a friendly smile, not surprised to hear it considering he wasn't from around here. Ellis straightened up and faced the man fully. "Well, if yer needin' directions I'm yer man. I know this county like the back of my hand," he pointed his thumb at his chest proudly. "Jus' tell me where ya wanna go an' I can get'cha there."
The outsider took the boast with a sly smile. "I'm just trying to find the freeway, think you could point me in the right direction?"
"The freeway…? Oh, ya mean the Interstate!" Ellis laughed at the regional disconnect. He readjusted his hat before glancing down the road, mentally mapping the best way to send the traveler. "Alright, well, first yer gonna want to keep goin' up this road a ways yonder past a caution light…" he pointed with a finger, "that'll put you into town." He paused momentarily for the man to give a nod, that part of the route understood. "There'll be a couple shops and a bank an' such and… Oh! There's this little country store. You gotta stop in and have some of the sweet tea there, it's the best, seriously." Gosh-dang, he realized, he was thirsty. Sitting out in the sun for the last couple hours, nothing sounded better. "You can't miss it," he went on, "it's got one'a those old coke signs nailed up on the siding and Miss Rochelle makes the best damn sweet tea you'll ever drink in yer life! She-"
"Hey, sport. The 'Interstate' remember?" the man interrupted, tapping his foot, apparently eager to get on his way.
"Ah right, right," Ellis rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed that he'd been rambling like he tended to do. "Well, the store sits on a corner, ya see? A left'll take you to the Interstate, but a right will bring you right back here to me."
"Got it," the man nodded. He gave him a quick wave and a "Thanks, kiddo." before getting back into his car. Almost as soon as he had seated himself behind the darkened glass, Ellis found himself imagining the stranger's handsome face wistfully. The Mercedes purred back to life and started down the long stretch of road towards town, its wide black tires kicking up loose dust and gravel, and that was when the Ellis realized he didn't know the man's name…
He yanked the hat off his head and tossed it to the ground, exasperated at himself for not even catching a simple first name… at least something more to remember him by than 'that sharp-dressin' feller who rolled through town that one time'. But he'd lost his chance now. He leaned back against his truck, shading his eyes quickly with the flat of his hand and squinting into the distance… with the speed with which the outsider had taken off, there was no way his old four-speed Ford could catch up. He was gone for sure. Ellis sighed, mentally kicking himself repeatedly, but he supposed it didn't matter much, the guy probably didn't like him anyhow.
The breeze ruffled his stock a little, offering a momentary reprieve to the Georgian heat. Ellis bent to retrieve his hat and went back to spraying his vegetables.
Time seemed to drag on as Ellis tried to keep himself busy, his mind still drifting off into daydreams of the man in the nice suit and what could have been. The sun had hit its peak and bore its heat down in waves over the young man. He wiped the gathering sweat off his brow with his shirt sleeve and gazed down the road, wondering if he should pack it up and get something for lunch. Then, he heard the distant sound of an engine and past the rippling heat waves and mirage-like shimmering on the asphalt saw a silver car approaching. Ellis couldn't believe it, for a second thinking the mid-day heat was playing tricks on his eyes, but as the vehicle got closer there was no denying it… it was the same Mercedes from before. It pulled over and parked beside his truck and as if his dreams had materialized, the well-dressed man stepped out holding two glasses of ice-tea.
"What're you doin' back here?" he began, "Thought you were lookin' for the interstate…"
"You looked a little thirsty, kid. Figured I'd bring you a drink," the man in white said with a crooked grin, offering him one of the beverages. Ellis took it gratefully, the glass sweating thick drops of condensation and damn if just holding it and feeling that cool slickness didn't already have him feeling a bit relieved. He pressed his thick lips to the edge and gulped down a good third, savoring the refreshing aftertaste of lemon.
"Thank you kindly… uh…" he trailed off, prodding for a name, determined not to waste this second chance that had been given to him.
"It's Nick," the man introduced himself.
Ellis swore his grin was big enough to split his face right in two. "Well thank you, Nick. I'm Ellis."
"Ellis, huh?" the stranger-now-acquaintance asked, closing the distance between them. Ellis scooched over to make room for him on the tailgate and Nick took it, sitting beside him. The green eyes caught his own. "Well… it's a pleasure to meet you," he said, placing special emphasis on the 'pleasure'.
Ellis felt his spine tingle excitedly, getting the feeling that Nick had forgotten all about the Interstate and whatever his destination had been.
They reached across and clinked glasses.
Thank God for good directions.
