âBooker?â
 âJoe?â
 âHow much did you say you had paid for this car?â
 âI dunno. $1000. Maybe less.â
 âHuh.â
 Booker drummed his fingers on the steering wheel rhythmically, matching the pattern of the raindrops as they pounded almost insistently upon the rusting exterior of the 1985 Camry and tried valiantly to ignore the fact that the man in the passenger seat might strain something from fighting the knee-jerk reaction to say something clever.
 It was always doomed to be a losing battle.
 âItâs just-â Joe began.
 âShhh.â Booker quickly cut across him.
 âIâm just saying-â
 âDonât.â
 Joe huffed and folded his arms, stewing in an almost mulish silence while Booker continued to beat on the wheel, his jaw set firm, eyes fixed on the road ahead, distorted like a kaleidoscope through the wind-shield as the rain ran in torrents down it. He was almost glad of the fact that the engine had spluttered to an undignified stop before rolling onto the hard shoulder, quietly breaking down. He didnât think the wipers would have coped in this downpour, anyway.
 Joe knew from the way the car had rattled on the ride out to the store a return journey might not have been possible. He knew he should have said something when the engine groaned and struggled to life as Booker turned the key in the ignition in the parking lot.
 Joe couldnât help himself. He couldnât keep quiet any longer. The loose connection between his brain and his mouth gave out and the words spilled from him before he could stop them.
 âYou didnât think that the price was a cheap for a reason?â
 Booker turned his head sharply, fully armed with a thousand rebuttals that all fell away the second he saw the way Joe was leaned against the head rest, grinning mischievously, dark eyes twinkling.
 Even after all these years, his innate charisma was utterly disarming.
 âLook, I called Nicky,â Booker was reproachful to the point of being apologetic. âHeâll be here as soon as he and Andy have got the intel we need.â
 âDid he say how long theyâd be?â
 Booker shrugged.
 âTheyâre the other side of Ellensburg,â he continued. âYou know drug lords donât keep to a time-table.â
 Joe nodded, turning to glance out of the window, peering past the rivulets of rain to try and catch a glimpse of Mount Rainier.
 âYeah, because thatâs this guyâs worst attribute â his time keeping.â His reply was dripping with so much sarcasm that Booker couldnât help but snort a derisive laugh. No. This guyâs worse attribute by a country mile was using the homeless as his distribution network and killing them when they refused.
 Thatâs why they had to end him.
 They sat in silence for a moment, the rain seeming to bounce even more loudly off the roof. Joe reached forward to the dashboard, mindlessly toying with the radio dial knowing full well it wouldnât work but needing something to do regardless. Defeated, he fell back into his seat forcefully with a horse-like exhale.
 âThink we could hitch-hike back?â He pouted after a momentâs pause, turning to Booker.
 Booker exhaled a gentle laugh. âWhy, thinking of getting your legs out?â
 âI was hoping you might,â Joe ribbed gently. âA tall blond might get more attention.â
 Booker shook his head, a signature lop-sided grin breaking over his face.
 âNot in this rain,â he decided eventually. âBesides, I havenât seen another car in almost twenty minutes, have you?â
 Joe hummed in agreement. âI guess not.â
 A longer silence fell. Not an uncomfortable one that either of them felt the need to fill. It was companionable. After 200 years, neither of them felt obliged to occupy every lapse in conversation with words; there was no need. There was an infinite sense of peace and familiarity in just existing in this liminal space with no cause to speak. Just the rainfall getting heavier and the steadfast presence of the other at their side.
 But something had been bugging Joe. Booker was many things but stupid wasnât one of them. Wilfully throwing good money at what was obviously a heap of junk wasnât rational, reasonable or practical. There had to be a reason why the younger immortal had chosen the car and he wanted to know what it wasâŠ
CONTINUE ON AO3
