why should I worry?

The name's Dane Rogers, but most people just call me Dodger.

[danethedodger-blog]

Every garden starts with a seed || Dodger & Ramona

Why anyone in his house had enough shit to fill a box was beyond Dane. The closet full of unlabeled and unorganized cardboard was a complete mystery to him. Who's stuff was this? Nearly everyone in that house had come in right off the streets with nothing. How had they managed to collect all this? "Who does this even belong to?" he thought out loud. The question seemed to answer itself when out of the topmost box poked an old friend of his — his old Dodgers cap. He reached and tugged, cursing under his breath when a few of the boxes lost their fragile balance and came tumbling down onto him.

"Shit!" he muttered when he noticed that one of the smaller boxes had been full of old pictures (certainly not any of his) that were now spread across the floor unceremoniously. He swept them up clumsily, hoping that there hadn't been any particular order to their organization that couldn't be easily reproduced by their owner. I'll blame it on the kid if anyone asks, he thought to himself. He enjoyed messing with Oliver a little too much. The boy had long since proven himself (though no one would ever hear Dodger admit that), but it was still fun to make him nervous and hear him start stuttering apologies that he didn't need to make before letting him off the hook with a sly grin.

When he turned the pile over in his hands, he was startled to find a younger version of himself looking back at him, wearing the same cap he'd been after before he'd caused the cardboard landslide. He remembered taking the picture. It was the first summer he'd been in living in the house that was now so familiar to him. He'd slung his arm around Ramona, made some quip about a family picture, and snapped it before she could protest or wiggle away. They both looked so young. A couple of kids with no idea what they were doing but sure that they were in it together. He smirked, reaching for the hat and pulling it over his messy brown hair. What a ride. He still remembered clearly how it'd all started even though it seemed like a thousand years ago...

----------

The air had just started to taste like fall as Dodger strode down the street, signature sunglasses protecting him from the still harsh sunlight. The trees had gotten the memo about the changing seasons and had responded with their annual color show. The sun had apparently not been in the loop. Paired with the bright blue ballcap, he must have looked pretty untrustworthy. Not that there were many people in Regium he couldn't charm if he gave it a good enough shot. He'd learned quite a few things out on the street and smooth talking was one of his most polished skills. Strangers had never intimidated him. He didn't trust any of them, but he didn't have a problem talking with them either.

Turning a corner, he was struck by the sight of a crumpled young woman perched on the curb, crying into her hands. He stopped and watched her for a moment. She looked so small sitting there all by herself. She reminded him of a china doll or something equally as fragile and pretty. Quickly deciding to step in, Dodger walked over as quietly as he could and sat himself down next to her. He tipped his head down and let his sunglasses slip down on his nose as he tried to get a better look at the girl. "Hey baby, why the waterworks? It's a beautiful day full'a beautiful things 'n' all that jazz. What'd'ya got to be so sad about?"

[danethedodger-blog]

caroline-attina:

"It was nothing major really. I got hurt at the festival and I needed surgery. It’s nothing really."

"Surgery sure sounds like somethin' major. Not gonna pry though. It's behind ya now. Let's go get that drink, yeah?"

[danethedodger-blog]

ramonainfante:

Ramona allowed her own eyes to fall shut, arms tightening around him once more as he nuzzled his nose against hers. This sort of public display of affection wasn’t something either of them usually allowed, but even so, she could not bring herself to pull away. If anything, she only wanted to press herself closer to him, soak in his warmth and let her worries dissipate. She wanted to bask in the fact that yes, Dane was here, and yes, he was fine — just like she’d hoped. By the time she blinked her eyes open once more, he’d already rearranged his features into that smirk of his, the one that she often found both mildly frustrating and infuriatingly attractive. Today, it only made her want to kiss him again. So she did, tilting her head up to press one last kiss on his lips.

It was with great reluctance that she released her hold on him, letting her arms fall to her sides even though she was still overwhelmed with the urge to essentially cling to him. The shivers that had wracked her body had only started to subside and she was loath to separate herself from him completely. “Go on ‘head an’ lead the way, Dodge,” she said, surprised (though not necessarily displeased) by his use of a pet name. Perhaps it had been unintentional, merely an accidental slip of the tongue. Ramona pushed the thought aside, knowing that there was no point in overthinking his word choice at this particular moment. When he wrapped an arm around her, she almost sighed in relief, instinctively moving closer to him and tucking herself against his side as they began to walk. “I know y’won’t,” she responded. He’d meant what he said, and she believed his words completely. “Now pick up the pace, will ya? We got the kids t’get back to.”

[danethedodger-blog]

officerlevin:

"Yeah, I bet you never steal on Sundays either." Hunter sighed, rubbing his brow. It’s too early for this. He shrugged helplessly, words coming out what seemed like the same moment he thought them. “Or you could, you know, not steal. Exchange money for goods and services like the rest of us. It’s a crazy idea, but it’s catching on.” When his tone turned serious, Hunter felt himself start to relax. He wasn’t sure if he believed him, but he wanted to. There was a time when it had been easy for him to believe the best of people, but with the sound of gunshots still ringing in his ears, his blind faith was not at its best.

"And, what, it’s been all of 24 hours? Do you want a gold star? A medal maybe? Forget it. Why don’t you—" When he offered him coffee, he froze. Was he kidding? He couldn’t remember ever seeing a hint of genuine goodness in the other man’s demeanor before, but there it was. "An olive branch? Okay, I’ll take the bait. I was going to get coffee anyway. Walk with me." He slipped his hands into his pockets and walked on, not bothering to see if the other man followed. He assumed he would. Coffee had been his idea, after all. "So how about that name? If we’re going to be buddies and all."

Dane was pleasantly surprised when Levin took his olive branch. Chuckling in that self satisfied way he often did, he stood from the bench and followed after Levin. It felt strange. Purposely walking with a cop, being friendly with one. Truth was, Dane wasn't sure what he saw in Hunter. Maybe just a good time -- after all, he wound up so easy -- or maybe the potential for a real friend. Not that Dane kept many of those. Whatever the reason, it'd be good to befriend the guy and get him off his tail for awhile. He didn't want Superman getting any bright ideas to come sniffing around the gang's house.

"Name's right here." Dane said with a playful smile, gesturing to his jacket. "Folks 'round here call me Dodger. Well, I guess not 'round here. But 'round where I'm from. Ya know, the criminal cesspool I crawled out of to meet you here." he laughed at his own joke. Another of his charming habits. "I guess you didn't buy that Hunter Levin story 'while back. It would'a been pretty hilarious, huh? We'd'a made a whole lotta money on a Lifetime movie or somethin'."

[danethedodger-blog]

caroline-attina:

"If you’re buying, how can I turn them down."

"A woman with sense. I like that. So what were ya in there for, if you don't mind me askin'? I've gotta guess it had somethin' to do with that damn festival."

[danethedodger-blog]

caroline-attina:

"After two weeks of being stuck in that stupid hospital I am finally free!"

"Congrats. Whaddya say you let me buy ya a celebratory drink? First three rounds on me."

[danethedodger-blog]

offyourheadbonkers:

Alice took a long swig of the drink she’d ordered for herself —the strongest drink they had, she’d asked. Enjoying the comfort of the burning in her chest as the liquid made it’s way down her throat. She was drowning herself in alcohol as she usually did to stop herself from thinking on terrible matters of her family life, letting the temporary effects of alcohol sooth her for the night so she could return to her anger in the morning. Having only just started, Alice ordered herself a second drink, heading in for a long night.

Dane was surprised to spot the familiar head of brown hair at the bar. Alice Kingsley. He hadn't bumped into her in what had to be weeks, since before the holidays. When he caught her ordering a second drink, he slid smoothly onto the stool beside her. "Careful there, Al." he nudged her with his elbow to get her attention, a smirk on his lips. "I hear that stuff'll kill ya."

[danethedodger-blog]

officerlevin:

Hunter had lost track of the last time he slept. He had been up for at least twenty-four hours, as there was no time for sleep with all the unrest in the city resulting from the most recent bout of shootings. He had left Meghan at his house, and she was probably sleeping soundly, and he was jealous and glad for her all at once. All of the officers had been burning the candle at both ends after the attack, and it disheartened him to no end to think of how little the majority of the public seemed to think of the force when each day he went to work, all he saw were good people trying their hardest. He didn’t need a reward, a medal pinned to his chest for all the world to see, but he could have asked for a little more acknowledgment for himself and his fellow officers. They would just have to prove all who doubted the force wrong by putting the commissioner’s killer behind bars.

Given the night he’d had, he was in no mood to play games, especially with punks like the one who spotted him the minute he stepped foot outside of the precinct. “You.” He felt his jaw clench, his teeth scrape, and he wanted to knock the guy’s lights out. He resisted, but the urge persisted. “What the hell are you doing here? Look, I don’t have time for your games. Don’t you have something to steal or vandalize or something?” He was being too harsh, but he was angry, and the words kept coming. “Some way to take advantage of the chaos like punks like you always do?”

Dane's signature smirk pulled on his lips at the greeting. "You." He hadn't expected Levin to be so openly hostile, but he supposed that was what a boss with a bullet hole in his head and who knew how many hours without sleep did to a guy. "I never steal so early in the morning." he retorted calmly, pushing on the bridge of his sunglasses. "Too much sunlight. It's like swipin' stuff under a spotlight. No thanks." He was only partially kidding. He preferred to do his buglering under cover of night, but his hands had long since been skilled enough to swipe anything from anywhere in any lighting.

"I don't take advantage of things like this." his tone was serious, but he doubted the officer would believe him. After all, he was just a street punk. "Haven't committed a single crime since it all went down. Pinky swear." a full smile spread over his face and he chuckled at the memory of their last encounter. Levin had something then that he certainly did not now -- patience. "You look like you could use a coffee. Whaddya say? I'll even pay for it. Consider it an olive branch, yeah?"

[sebstandaily]

[danethedodger-blog]

chapman-oliver:

"You’re not old," Oliver muttered as he finished wrapping up his hand. "And Peter don’t seem so bad. H-he’s different, but…" He trailed off. If Dane hates him then Oliver figured he should hate him too. "Never mind."

"Different's one way a'puttin' it. A real nice one. Kid's a selfish little twerp. He's gonna get somebody hurt one'a these days. I just wanna make sure it ain't any of us." Dane inspected Oliver's handiwork with the bandage and found no error, nodding a silent thanks to the boy as he thought. "How old are you, kid?" he asked. "Like, eighteen? Nineteen maybe?"

[danethedodger-blog]

chapman-oliver:

"Sorry," he muttered although his actions remained gentle. "Which punk kid? Mona wouldn’t say who."

"Really?" Dane couldn't decide if he was surprised by that bit of information, or the fact that Oliver hadn't been able to guess it for himself. "Got into a scuff with Peter little while back. My hand's still kinda fucked up. Guess that's what I get for being old."

[jenniferprescott-blog]

Care Package // Dane & Jennifer

[danethedodger-blog]

jenniferprescott:

Jennifer adjusted her hold on the large paper bags that were slipping from the grip of her mittens. She hadn’t been sure if Dodger had been kidding when he accepted her grocery offer, but she’d been sure to pick up pre-made cookie dough just in case he wasn’t. She could never get a read on him for anything. His sense of humor was lost on her, his thoughts and emotions nearly impossible to decode. How Ramona managed it would probably always be an utterly unsolvable mystery to her.

When she reached the familiar house, she was half surprised not to catch sight of any boards or nails. She blushed. They would have boarded it from the inside, dummy. When she reached the door, it occurred to her that she didn’t have a free hand to knock on it. She considered putting the bags down for a moment, but the ground was wet and would mean certain spillage for the groceries currently tucked safely inside the paper. Not knowing what else to do, she kicked at the door lightly with her foot. “Anybody home?” she called.

Dane lifted his head from the table, awaking in a start. Had he been asleep? Facedown on the kitchen table. "Christ." he muttered to himself, scanning the room and whispering a sigh of relief when he found himself alone. Truth was, he hadn't been sleeping well since what happened at the fashion show. He hid it as best he could, but he couldn't shake the unwelcome memories of another time and the fearful scenarios his brain had stitched together without his permission while he'd been shoving his way through the streets filled with panic and chaos, trying to reclaim and protect his corner of the city, where he knew he could keep himself and his family safe. But that was just it, wasn't it? Could he really know that?

A sheepish voice outside the door drew from up from the uncomfortable wooden chair that had been serving as his bed. "Who the fuck?" he wondered aloud as he stumbled to the front door. Peering through the peep hole, he was met the top of a head hidden by... paper bags? He opened the door and was taken aback by what he found. "What the--? Jenny? Christ, did you actually bring us groceries? Somebody's gotta explain the concept of jokes to you one'a these days, ya know that? Jesus Christ..." he stepped back and gestured inside without much enthusiasm. "Get in here, will ya? People're gonna think this is a damn Good Will."

[danethedodger-blog]

ramonainfante:

Despite her best efforts, Ramona could only muster up a half-hearted smile. In any other situation, she would have laughed. Nagged a little while longer, nudged him with her shoulder, maybe, and proceeded to move on. But today, she barely had the energy to even pretend to be remotely fine. She sucked in another shaky breath, eyes flickering away from Dane as she desperately tried to compose herself. The sudden change in his tone caught her attention and Ramona met his gaze again, struck by the seriousness of his words. Swallowing hard, she nodded. It wasn’t a verbal promise, not because she didn’t want to, but because she hated making promises that she couldn’t keep. There was no guarantee that they’d be together the next time disaster hit. Ramona was starting to remember just how often that seemed to happen in Regium. “We’ve got no idea who did this,” she countered, speaking more softly in an attempt to mask the distress in her voice. “Somethin’ like this could happen anywhere, anytime. How’m I s’posed to…” Keep you safe? Keep the kids safe?

And then his hand was cupping her jaw and his thumb was brushing her cheek and she wanted so badly to fall apart, but she knew she’d never forgive herself if she did. She struggled to keep her emotions in check when his lips met hers, channeling all the fear and worry into the kiss and focusing on the fact that Dane was okay. That was what mattered, right now. He was fine, he was here. It was a comfort, feeling his forehead against hers even as he broke the kiss. Her heart was still pounding hard in her chest, but it was for a completely different reason now. Ramona was grateful for it. “Okay. Yeah, okay,” she murmured hoarsely, making no move to distance herself from him. “They’re gonna be fine,” she repeated his words, an attempt to reassure herself. “Everyone’s gonna be okay. We’ll go home an’ everyone’s gonna be fine.”

Dane smiled for the first time all night and closed his eyes, nuzzling his nose against Ramona's. It felt so good to have here, close to him, unharmed. In this moment, when it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away around them, it really did seem like everything was going to be alright. He nearly believed the sentiment himself and he had certainly never been praised for his optimism. "Damn right." he murmured, signature smirk resting on his lips that still ached for hers. "Everything's gonna be fine, ya hear me? Just fine." he knew -- and he was fairly certain she knew it too -- that every reassurance coming from his lips were meant for both of them. He prided himself on his cool attitude, that perpetual level headedness, but even he could be shaken by things like this. Not that he would ever let anyone but her know that.

He didn't want to draw himself back from her. He wanted to stay close and block out both of their worries, but he knew he had to look out for his family and right now that meant getting himself and Ramona back to the house. Oliver and Georgina were bound to be there, or at least he would continue to tell himself that. "Come on, baby. Let's get out of here." he rarely resorted to pet names -- in fact, he found the whole practice laughable -- but it just slipped out and he didn't have the energy or inclination to correct himself. Dropping a protective arm around Ramona's shoulders, he pulled her close to him as he began making his way through the crowd. "Stay close t'me, ya hear? I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Any one a'you."

[danethedodger-blog]

ursulalennox:

Watching as he wiped some stranger’s blood on his pants, Ursula grimaced as she shook her head. “That ain’t hygienic, darling,” she said. “Come on, let’s get you washed up.” Turning around, she gestured for Dane to follow her as she began making her way towards the backstage area, tiptoeing around debris and blood as she went. “They better compensate me goddamn well for this,” she snarled, shoving curtains out of her way. “This is going to be so bad for business.”

Dane followed her obediently as she wound him through the curtained maze of the backstage. He couldn't remember ever being back here before and the new sights had him only half paying attention of his words. "Nobody thinks you had anything to do with this. F'anything, I'd say it'll be good for business. Eventually. You put this place back together and you push on forward, not a soul in this city who'll have any choice but t'respect you." his attention refocused on the woman and he gave her a serious nod. "You rebuilt this place from worse than this. I got complete faith in ya."

[danethedodger-blog]

rosiebriar:

A part of Rosalie wanted to laugh at the irony of Dane Rogers trying to talk her into opening up when he was one of the worst people in the world at opening up. Of course, she could point that out to him, but realised immediately that it would serve no purpose, other than maybe turning what was a minor irritation into a full-blown argument. So, she let it slide. Picking up the other coffee cup, the blonde turned around and leaned against the counter, warming her hands on the mug. “Yes, everybody’s still in one piece,” she replied, bringing the cup to her lips. “Thank you for asking. How about everyone on your end? ‘Mona? Oliver? They’re doing okay?”

She didn’t honestly buy that he was going to let it go that easily. He was a man who’d come in with a mission, and as persuasive as she knew that she could be from time to time, they were probably both too stubborn to give in to the way that the other person wanted to handle the situation. She didn’t want to talk about it… No, she wanted to, but she honestly didn’t see the point in it. “Ran into Peter at the hospital,” she started, realising the anecdote seemed to come from nowhere, but not really caring. “He said something about me trying to deny that I’ve got a bleeding heart. It got to me.”

"Yeah, we're all alright." It always felt odd to talk about his family with Rosalie, just as it felt strange to mention her to them. Dane compartmentalized his life so thoroughly and effectively that he nearly forgot that they all existed in the same universe let alone the same city. "Everybody's back at home in one piece. I'm boarding the place up later. Keep them in and everybody else the hell out." He hadn't decided yet if he was serious about this, but he had fun telling people about it and letting them guess for themselves. "No offense." he added, sipping his coffee. "I'll still come and visit ya long as I'm welcome."

"Never listen to anything that accidentally dribbles outta that kid's mouth." Dane was quick to retort. It was hardly a secret to anyone how much he hated Peter Payne, and he didn't like him talking to his friends, especially Rosalie and Ramona. He considered what she’d said and took a moment to mull over the concept. “A bleeding heart.” He repeated the sentiment with some disgust and then a chuckle. “A bleeding heart? Has this kid ever met you before? Christ. But seriously, don’t let that punk get to ya. Just ‘cause you’ve got a handful a’people you secretly care about, doesn’t mean you got a bleeding heart.”

[danethedodger-blog]

chapman-oliver:

Oliver smiled sheepishly and went to help the man he looked up to. He gingerly began to wrap it around Dane’s hand the way that Mona had taught him too. “Does it still hurt? I can get medicine for you?”

"Don't baby me, kid." Dane muttered. "S'fine. I can take it. Just hope that punk kid hurts half as much as I do."

[youcanletgo]

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