Capitol Punishment
Chapter 13
Standing in America's garage with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face, Washington realized that there was a small, very large kink in their plan to hide at his favorite Starbucks. How were they going to get there?
"Uh, Brit dude?"
"Do not call me 'Brit dude.'" London scowled from next to him.
"How are we supposed to get back into the city?"
London turned to him quickly like he was electrocuted. "We are NOT taking America's death trap."
"The Harley?" Washington responded.
"Yes, any better ideas?"
Washington surveyed America's garage, looking at each of his 4 cars, one already missing. Most were Ford's and Chrysler's, and were pretty good cars, Washington approved the choice in vehicles. A bright red shiny Thunderbird, very well cared for, looked very appealing for a drive around the city. But that green Jeep to the right was kind of rugged and fun looking, Washington could visualize himself going off road somewhere in the dry lands of Arizona, a state he has never even been to. The Lincoln next to the Jeep was a little too businesslike for his tastes, but it would be a good car if he worked as a lawyer or a politician. Which he sorta did. But the car that was calling his name, the car he thought he would never be able to drive with his position as a capitol in a very elitist city, was the old rusty pickup truck. Two seater, brown paint peeling off, it reminded Washington of Tow Mater from the movie Cars.
He looked over at London and smiled excitingly.
"We're driving the truck."
"That dusty old thing?" London, personally, was eyeing the Lincoln. It was very classy indeed. Too bad he wouldn't even be able to drive it anyway. Wrong side of the road and all. "Do you know where the keys are?"
Washington smile dropped. "Nope. Do you?"
"No." London thought for a moment. "Shouldn't we tell America we're trying to take one of his cars?"
"Nah, I'm sure he'll find it later."
London deadpanned. Washington opened the door to the truck, luckily it wasn't locked. Good thing it's in a locked garage.
"Hey, the keys are in the dash."
"Do you even know how to drive?" London asked from the passenger's side.
Washington froze in the driver's seat. London asked the one question he was hoping wouldn't be asked. Sheepishly turning to London with a kicked puppy look, he slowly let out a 'no.' London brought his hand to his forehead, but before he could complete the look of incredulous disappointment, Washington tried to intervene.
"But I have a permit… I snuck the test one day at a DMV while the feds weren't looking…"
London raised a sarcastic eyebrow. Washington grumbled.
"Fine. We should really probably follow the law. It is important." He started to open the door, but London stopped him, looking a little unsure.
"Wait, what is the law?"
"I have to drive with a legal adult."
"Well I am a legal adult…" London started.
But Washington was starting to feel responsible again.
"No, no, no, we can't, don't you drive on the other side of the road?"
"Details, details, let's just get on with it." London waved those details like a fly.
"But a legal adult age for driving with a permit learner is 21…"
"You want to drive the bloody vehicle, don't you?"
"Yes, alright." Washington turned the key and started the truck, a deep rumbly noise filling the quiet garage. His face filled with a satisfied smile, which he turned to London who proceeded to cross his arms and raise his brows.
"Don't kill me." London suddenly added, as the truck started to roll.
"America! England! You are late! America, please begin hosting your meeting!" Germany griped at them from the conference table.
"Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, sorry dudes, but something came up and I had to run all over the city trying to fix it, and England was very kind to help me patch things up—"
"Are you thanking me? Publicly?" England cut in, surprise showing in his green eyes.
America looked a bit put off and frowned. "Well, yeah, it was important."
"Please, just move on vith ze meeting." Germany groaned, looking at his watch. "Ve have break in almost an hour now. Ve have very important things to discuss, America, especially vith those new policies of yours." Somehow Germany managed to look both angry and sympathetic.
America felt his stomach drop, a brief look of panic flashed in his eyes before he covered it up by walking to his seat, England by his side. He set his stuff down on the table. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. He looked up, he smiled and he started the meeting.
Twenty five minutes later London and Washington were sitting tensely at a table in the Starbucks. London spent the ride clutching the seats with white knuckles, silently wishing he could drive on the right side of the road. Washington spent the ride clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles, silently wishing that highways didn't exist. The side roads were fun in the truck, and the city driving came easily to him, but highways twisted his gut in ways that left fear tingling up his spine. It was too fast and as a new driver he was deathly afraid of an accident at those high speeds. London could feel his fear radiating the driver's seat and began to feel nervous as they got further down the road. They had both left the car quickly and silently, mutually agreeing that they didn't want to talk about it.
"DAN THE MAN!"
Washington felt familiar arms wrap around his shoulders and he grinned.
"How's the date?" Rachel asked.
London spit out his tea back into his cup. Washington frowned.
"It's Friday, right? Still the wonderful year of 2017 in this blessed country?" Danny said looking up her innocently.
"Not just any Friday. With this handsome gentleman, any Friday is an adventure." She winked at Danny, before approaching London's seat and extending her hand.
"My name is Rachel, the owner of this fine establishment and little Dan's boss. And I'm assuming you're Mr. King?"
London recovered, standing with a regal look and shaking her hand with practiced ease.
"Ah, Yes. I am Mister Landon King, the author of Danny's book. I must say that this is a splendid place to meet with friends." London said the nicest thing he could think of without lying. In his opinion, the atmosphere was tacky, the coffee was candy, and the tea was sub-par. But now wasn't the time to be a critic.
"Why thank you sir. I hope you both have a wonderful afternoon." Rachel said a little too whole heartedly. "And Danny, please fill me in on the details, you know I love to know what you're up to." She ruffled his hair and started to turn away. "Let me know when you're free to work again. Samuel wants to challenge you to a speed drinking contest."
Danny looked a bit embarrassed as Landon raised an eyebrow at him.
"Sure thing Rach, see ya later." He waved her off.
"You have quite the life here, don't you?" It was more of a statement than question.
"Oh yeah, you know, I get by," Washington looked down at his mocha, "I have to find some way to distract myself, and it's something kinda normal. Something separate from what the feds are up to. It makes me feel… better when I'm working together with other people to come up with something nice for the city, even if it's just a smile and too sweet coffee."
London understood what Washington meant, having tried something similar after World War Two with a tea shop. He has felt the need to contribute when things are falling apart around him, and he knows the stifling idleness can be suffocating. Especially in government, and for a capitol. Their natural instinct is to work together to complete a common goal. Still, it was nice to know that the young capitol that loved his book worked hard to make people's days better. And he did have a nice smile.
"You think the coffee is too sweet too?"
Washington chuckled, "Sometimes, it depends if I'm feeling a bit bitter myself."
London let out a laugh. "Was that a play on words?"
"What are words for, other than to play with?" Washington quipped back.
"Good answer lad. Cheers." London lifted his tea to him and they each took a sip from their cups.
"Daniel Washington? You'll have to come with us." A deep voice interrupted.
Washington choked. Instead of his Mocha, he felt fear slip down his throat as he turned to find five secret service agents standing by their table. London looked livid.
"And you too, Mr. London." The agent finished.
"That is Mr. King, to you sir." London seemed ready to give a finely worded lecture when the agents grabbed both of them by the arms and escorted them out the doors, Washington looking down defeated. But London wiggled and fought and raised his voice.
"Pardon me sir! Do you know what global laws you are violating? This is no small matter! I will have you know that my government will not be pleased at these violations and will react in kind! The United Kingdom himself will be at your throat with such actions." When this did nothing to deter the agents at the door of their black tinted SUV, he raised the stakes. "This can be considered, in terms of country actions, as a declaration of war!"
The agents paused at the open car doors and seemed to think for a moment, casting quick glances at each other. Washington perked up for second, he thought that he had already lost this battle. But just when they started to hope that this would change the outcome, the agents nodded at each other and shoved them into the SUV. Two agents sitting at each door with London and Washington squished together in the middle.
"We'll let the White House deal with that," Responded an agent.
Washington scoffed, "Like that's a good idea! I can't wait to hear about this on twitter. 'UK claims US violated international policy! UK should apologize! Sad!'" He said changing his voice.
London just shut his eyes and leaned back. This was NOT good.