This is our decision (to live fast and die young)

OK, this is set six months after 'The Lies we live' making it the latest thus far chronologically.

Keen-eyed readers may notice that I don't own the title - it's a lyric from MGMT's Time to pretend. I heard it on the radio and found it peculiarly apposite. Particularly considering the subsequent line 'Yeah it's overwhelming, but what else can we do? Get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute?' This doesn't make this a song fic - the fic came first.

I've been meaning to say - I've been accounting for the time period whenever I mention money in this. So, for example the five dollars each that they took off the football team in 'Remember the first time' would be the equivalent of about fifteen dollars today, the thirty dollars for the lockpicks came out at just under seventy as I remember and the five thousand in this equals wowee. Or nearly twelve thousand if you prefer. Just so you know.

Danny was almost certain that it must be possible for life to get better – he didn't really believe in perfection after all – but driving along the freeway in a convertible on a gloriously sunny day, his best friend dripping ice cream on the leather seats, the radio blaring out Van Halen, a suitcase with five thousand dollars in the back seat and a future stretching out in front of them; well, it was a little difficult to see just how.

It had started three weeks ago when he'd got the letter from Columbia University, offering him an interview with the Dean of Admissions to discuss his application and the whole financial aid issue. Okay, so it was just the first step, but still he wasn't able to keep the grin off his face as he brushed past his mom – who didn't look up from her paper – and headed out to Rusty's.

He'd knocked on the door slightly more enthusiastically than normal and so he'd been something more than disconcerted when it was pulled open by Rusty's father who stood swaying and looking down at him.

Danny smiled politely. "Is Rusty home?" Sometimes it was the people who you hated more than anything else in the world that you had to look respectful at. He'd learned that lesson early.

Rusty's father continued to look blankly at him.

"Your son?" he tried.

Still no reaction, but Rusty appeared behind him, trailing his jacket on the ground, and ducked past his father and smiled at Danny. "Let's go."

The door was swung shut behind them.

"When did he get home?" Danny asked. He'd been gone for nearly a week this time, working or drinking, or both.

"Last night. I stayed in my room and he passed out on the sofa."

"Good arrangement."

Rusty nodded. "I thought so. What's up, anyway?"

Grinning, Danny passed the letter over. "How do you fancy living in New York?"

Rusty scanned the letter and grinned back. "It's not the same as – " he said, warningly.

" – I know. But don't you – "

" – completely." Rusty smiled at him, pride shining in his eyes with no attempt to hide it.

"Breakfast?" Danny suggested.

"Pancakes?" Rusty countered, hopefully.

"Sure." he agreed.

"My treat." they said in unison, and laughed.

"Flip a coin for it."

"Yours or mine?"

Pancakes meant Mabel's, and when Danny showed her the letter, he was completely thrown when she immediately squealed and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you."

He was very glad he wasn't prone to blushing. "It's not actually an acceptance." he pointed out.

"Still." she stepped back and looked at him fondly. "Breakfast is on the house."

Well, at least that was that settled.

They waited until she had bustled off, before resuming talking.

"How do you want to get there?" he asked quietly

"Bus is the most obvious." Rusty pulled a face.

Yeah, Danny felt the same way. "Car?" he suggested instead.

Rusty looked thoughtful. "It'd probably be cheaper as well. If we picked up another one for the trip home we might not even have to buy gas."

That was a practical way of looking at it. Danny just wanted plenty of leg room. "Car park on 12th?" he asked. They were going through a list of good places in the city. The last thing they wanted was to draw attention and have anywhere beef up their security.

Rusty nodded. "Haven't been there since – "

" – since you wanted to go to the drive-thru." Danny said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

"The fries taste different." Rusty defended himself.

"They don't!"

Rusty grinned and leaned back in his chair. Danny shook his head, Mabel brought the pancakes and he sat through another couple of minutes of fond fussing.

"We can check out rent prices while we're there." Rusty said, between mouthfuls.

Danny nodded. Anything that got a few less unknown quantities on the monthly budget Rusty was putting together would be good. They couldn't know what the bottom line of what they were going to need to pull together was until the thing started looking a little less like an algebra problem. "And investigate the high schools round where we'll be staying." he added.

Rusty shook his head in amusement.

"What?" Danny raised an eyebrow.

"Just can't believe I'm running away from home and I've still got to go to school."

"Get used to it." Danny said, perhaps a little shorter than he should have, but there were still some things that he was maybe still a little sensitive about. He hadn't forgotten what Rusty had said, after they'd been arrested, about his future.

Rusty dropped the subject immediately. "We should go see Leo. Get a name."

Now there was an idea.

The car they'd been driving had been chosen for its full tank of gas and because Rusty had felt a peculiar fondness for the yellow fuzzy dice dangling from the rear view mirror. Next time Danny was going to ignore him and find something a little more fun to drive. Whatever they picked up in New York, he was going to try and leave it in the same space they'd got this one from. The symmetry amused him.

Danny had learned to drive months back. The lessons and the test had been paid for by his mom; he'd passed the week before she disowned him. She'd actually said she was proud of him. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he'd heard that from her.

Still, he didn't have a lot of experience with driving long distances, and yeah, after barely two hours he needed a break. Just as he was about to admit it, Rusty said casually. "Rest stop next exit."

He shut his mouth and made the turning. "This would be easier if you could drive." he commented as he parked.

"Think they like it if you have a license before they let you do that." Rusty pointed out.

"We could probably get you one." They had all sorts of other fake ID after all, and it wasn't as if Rusty looked that obviously fourteen.

Rusty just looked at him.

"I'm serious." Danny said, getting out of the car. "Come on, switch places. I'll teach you."

Rusty practically bounced out of the car.

Of course, Rusty picked up driving at the same pace he absorbed everything else new. By the time he'd spent an hour or so driving round the near-deserted parking lot – with a ten minute break for donuts – Danny would probably have been comfortable letting him loose on the freeway. They weren't that stupid though. Still hopefully – hopefully – they'd be doing this a lot over the coming year. Few more lessons and the proper fake documentation and it would get a lot easier.

Three days of surveillance, room service and wandering the city later, they stood in a large hall with a couple dozen other prospective Columbia students and their parents. Danny's interview had been that morning and it had gone well. He knew what he had to do now. And what's more he knew he could do it. Life was looking pretty good, he thought, glancing over at Rusty who had apparently abandoned the whole idea of listening to the advertising spiel in favour of chatting to a brunette wearing a bright red t-shirt proclaiming her to be a student volunteer.

"So what's it like here?" Rusty was saying with an engaging smile.

"It's brilliant. You'll love it." she smiled back. "You're a little young to be a student though, aren't you?"

"Sixteen." Rusty lied, to Danny's amusement. "I skipped a couple years."

She raised an eyebrow. "You must be pretty smart."

Rusty shrugged modestly. "I do okay."

She laughed, and leaned in closer. "What classes are you thinking of taking?"

"Not sure. Languages, maybe. Or math. And I'm interested in architecture."

"Really? Your parents must be so proud. I bet they're not too happy about you leaving home so young though."

Rusty's smiled slipped a little and Danny watched curiously, fully aware that this had nothing to do with any of the real reasons that Rusty might be a little awkward with questions about his parents. On the whole this was much more interesting than the presentation. "They were a little upset about it at first but after the doctors said . . . " he stopped and looked away, blinking for a couple of seconds. "You've just got to live one day at a time, you know?" he finished bravely.

Oh, he was so going to hell.

Shaking his head he looked back at the Dean for a few minutes, and when the speech finished and he looked round, Rusty and the girl had vanished. He grinned to himself, and spent the next twenty minutes circulating among professors, getting himself noticed.

Eventually, as the others departed he started to search. Didn't take long; almost immediately he came across an alcove and Rusty and the girl making out like it was going out of style. He hadn't made a noise, but Rusty – without stopping in any way - still held up three fingers to him. Then he appeared to reconsider and added another two. Danny shook his head and left them to it.

It would maybe be easier if Rusty were to go after any of the girls his own age who followed him around. Though actually, that would feel a little weird. Sort of . . . icky. Probably because Rusty didn't act his age. Still, that girl had to be at least nineteen. Danny would hesitate to try and chat her up. Rusty really did have no shame.

About seven minutes later Rusty sauntered round the corner. The brunette gave him an embarrassed little wave and mouthed the words 'Call me' and vanished, presumably to try and catch up with the tour.

"You going to?" Danny asked, as they headed towards the front entrance.

Rusty shrugged. "She meant when I start school here next fall. Could be a little difficult to explain."

Danny looked at him. "You've got lipstick on your face. Just – "

" – there?" Rusty wiped at his face.

"Little higher. Yeah, that's it."

"Thanks."

They went to a bar just off campus that night. After all, if they were going to be here for the next few years they might as well get a good idea of what life was going to be like.

Rusty had two beers before switching to soft drinks and was now introducing a group of drunk frat boys to the perils of playing Find the Lady with a plausible stranger. Danny had raised an eyebrow, but Rusty had assured him with a glance that everything was under control. Apparently he was a hit. Knowing him he'd be inducted into the fraternity by morning and running it by next week.

Danny had found an even better way to spend his time. Her name was Samantha and she was studying geology – which he immediately developed a life long interest in. Glass of whisky in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and she'd thought he was older than her and he hadn't bothered to correct her.

They sat at the bar, and they talked about rocks and books, and their favourite teachers in high school, and parental horror stories. (Some of the ones he told her were even true.)

Half an hour before closing time, Rusty, the invisible man passed behind him, and he felt the hotel key being lifted out of his pocket. The words 'Have a good time' lingered on the air, and when he smiled it wasn't meant for Samantha.

He would.

It was a little after three when Rusty let him into the room. The floor was covered with the plans they'd drawn of the jewellers, little trays of costume jewellery and what looked like the remains of every single dessert the hotel offered. Obviously Rusty had been putting his time to good use.

He flopped down onto the bed. "We miss anything?" he asked.

"Nah. It's all good." Rusty started piling the papers together and looked over at him. "Speaking of – "

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." Danny said immediately.

Rusty grinned. "If you didn't get any further than kissing then I'm extremely disappointed in you."

Danny laughed. "It was good, okay?"

Having finished his tidying, Rusty climbed into his own bed. He'd already changed into a t-shirt and sweat pants, and Danny knew he really should do the same, but he was comfortable.

"Did you mean what you said today?" he asked, suddenly. He'd been thinking about it on and off all day. It hadn't felt like a lie, and he'd thought – when it was Rusty – that he could always tell.

Rusty turned his head to look at him.

"When you said you were interested in studying languages and architecture." Danny clarified. He was almost certain that Rusty had known exactly what he was talking about, but sometimes it was good to be precise. Less room for anyone to wiggle out that way.

A non-committal shrug was the only answer.

"Rusty." he said, quietly.

"Maybe." Rusty admitted.

He rolled over so that Rusty wouldn't see the broad smile that he couldn't keep off his face. Even after they'd made the plan, this was the first time that he'd had any real indication that Rusty was listening to him, and that somewhere, other plans were being made.

"You know, if we're going to be coming through here a lot, it's going to get expensive in hotel bills." Rusty remarked after a few moments.

"Especially if you keep ordering room service like that." Danny agreed.

"Oh, don't worry, we're not paying for any of that." Rusty reassured him. "I won it in a poker game."

That was a little . . . but Danny decided to let it go. "Mike's moving up in a few months." he said instead. "His cousin has an apartment and a roommate moving out in November." He'd forgotten to mention earlier. "If we tell him – "

" – the truth?"

Danny shrugged. "Within reason. Anyway, we could stay with him."

There was no answer. He glanced over. Rusty was asleep. He smiled to himself; probably a good idea.

He waited until Rusty had been in the jewellers for nearly fifteen minutes before he followed. It was obvious that he'd immediately drawn everyone's attention as he stood there in his torn jeans and dirty shirt, looking round the place. His gaze didn't linger on Rusty, clad in a blazer with an ostentatious crest for some high class private school, and with his hair neat and dark with gel.

After a couple of seconds conversation resumed, and he heard Rusty's voice – a perfect, upper-class local accent firmly in place – complaining to the clerk standing attentively next to him. "No, no, Mama cannot stand pearls. Could I perhaps see that tray after all? Please?" There were already three trays of rings laid out on the corner in front of him. Perfect.

"Can I help you . . . sir?" Another clerk materialised in front of him, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I'm lookin' for somethin' like an engagement ring?" he said.

The clerk's expression looked mildly pained. "Certainly, sir. This way."

As they'd expected, he was led to the opposite end of the shop from Rusty. Where they kept the cheaper stuff. Pretty much at random, he pointed to one of the trays. "Lessee."

With another pained expression the clerk pulled the tray out. Danny made a show of studying each ring in turn. He waited until the clerk's attention was half-drawn to another, more profitable-looking customer entering the shop before he dropped his house key on the floor and swept the tray to the ground as he made to pick it up. The clerk's attention – everyone's attention – was immediately back on him, and as he straightened back up, apologising and placing the key back in his pocket, the clerk screamed "Thief!"

"Wha', what?" he stammered.

Now everyone was really staring, and three other clerks drifted over at speed.

"I saw you put your hand in your pocket. What have you stolen!"

"Nothin'" he yelled. "I'm not a thief."

The manager shimmered up. "Young man, turn out your pockets." he said gravely.

Danny blinked, as though fighting back tears. "I haven't done nothing." he protested.

One of the clerks bent over and started picking up the fallen jewellery.

"Now." the manager said, in a tone that brooked no contradictions.

Slowly, and with an air of great reluctance Danny complied. A wallet with ID proclaiming him to be Brian Harris, a bus ticket, a stub for the cinema, cigarettes and a lighter and the house key made a little pile on the counter. Of course, there was no jewellery.

"But I saw him." The first clerk yelled. He darted forwards and started patting Danny down.

"Don't touch me!" Danny yelled.

"Sidney!" the clerk who'd been tidying up called. "Sid, there's nothing missing."

The clerk stepped backwards and stared in disbelief. "What?"

"It's all here. See for yourself."

"I just came in here, cos I wanted to know how much I had to save up to buy a ring for Elise." Danny let his voice break, just a little.

Sidney was blushing, and the manager was no longer staring angrily at Danny. "I'm terribly sorry for this mix-up, sir." The manager offered smoothly. "I hope that this experience won't stop you from patronising our establishment." Which, Danny figured translated as please, please don't sue.

He shook his head angrily. "I just want to go home." he said, and brushed the back of his hand across his eyes, before heading for the door.

Waiting for Rusty to come round the corner took an anxious two-cigarette filled ten minutes, but he finally appeared, having ditched the blazer somewhere along the way. Well, he'd been complaining about it itching all day.

He glanced over and raised his eyebrows. Rusty nodded minutely.

He grinned. "Let's go find Leo's guy."

Leo, the fence that Bobby Caldwell had introduced them to, had given them the name of another fence – Jacques Callaghan - based in New York that he trusted. They'd figured that they wanted to introduce themselves as soon as possible, and to go with something. They wanted to seem like serious players, after all.

So they sat in the back room of Jacque's Irish theme bar, and watched as he examined the rings and bracelets that Rusty had palmed and replaced with fakes while Danny provided a distraction.

Finally Jacques unscrewed the jewellers eyepiece and looked them over carefully. "These are good quality."

They nodded. It had been a very up-market jewellers.

"And you come highly recommended. People I trust say I can trust you." There was a questioning note in his voice.

Danny smiled, as relaxed as he could. "We do our best."

"And that seems to be pretty good. These I can deal with no problems. So let's say . . . five thousand."

Okay. Danny did his best not to actually pass out. He also managed not to turn his head and stare at Rusty, but he could feel the startled incredulity. Here was hoping they weren't being obvious to anyone else. "That seems fair." he said, his voice steady. It was maybe five times what they'd been expecting.

Jacques clicked his fingers and his man – bodyguard? Secretary? Barman? Danny wasn't sure – leapt to attention and headed to the safe in the corner. Both Danny and Rusty made a point of turning their heads, and Jacques grunted his approval.

"Got something to carry the cash in?" Jacques asked abruptly.

Ah. "No, I'm afraid not." Rusty said, with a slight hint of apology in his voice.

Jacques looked slightly amused and pulled a battered suitcase out from under the desk. "Here."

The man passed Danny the bundles of notes, and he immediately gave them to Rusty who started counting them and putting them in the case.

"Well," Jacques said, after Rusty had nodded to Danny. "Looks like we're through here for today. I'd offer the pair of you a drink, but Bobby made it absolutely clear that there'd be trouble if he heard about either of you drinking in my place."

Okay. That did catch him by surprise. "Some other time perhaps." he suggested.

Jacques nodded. "I look forward to seeing you again."

Once they were outside they stood and stared at each other for a few long moments.

"Well – " Danny said eventually. That had gone better than they'd expected.

" – yeah." Rusty agreed.

They started walking towards the parking lot they'd picked out as a good place to get a ride home from. There'd been a convertible there this morning that Danny had quite liked the look of.

"How do you think he knew?" Rusty asked suddenly.

"Bobby?" Danny guessed. "Maybe Leo checked with him who to recommend."

"Or maybe he really is checking up on whether we've been drinking."

Well, they never drank at the bar they met Leo in anyway. And anything else that Bobby didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

The drive home was better than the drive there, even though he knew what they were going back to. The addition of blazing sunshine and five thousand dollars would do that. Though the ice-cream that Rusty had taken out of his bag had him a little worried.

"I like it all melted." Rusty said, in response to the unasked question.

Fair enough.

Five thousand dollars though. For doing what could, at one hell of a stretch, be called four days work.

"So, how's our budget looking now?" he asked, with a smile.

Rusty grinned back. "We're going to be good."

They were going to be far, far better than good. They were going to be fantastic.

And, yeah? What did ya think?