rosetylerdwrp:
Oh, she knew something. In the way she recoiled then put up a guard, in the way she put up her spines and glowered, and the accusation - only briefly - in her frowning pout (I thought I liked you!), it was very obvious that she knew something.
She looked ornery, though, and frankly disappointed. (I wanted to like you.)
One of his guys? Hmm. Sure. Yeah. Whatever.
She sipped slowly, now, gauging the man before her. He’d slipped another paradigm and she didn’t know what to think of him, now.
She did know Roy wasn’t one of this guy’s guys, and she was all up in righteous arms as she appraised his lie.
Might be a lie, unless he was a cop. That brought a whole different host of problems with it, but… If he was a cop, she had a few questions of her own. Her and Roy-
Well. If this was Roy’s… whatever the opposite of “informant” was - God, she needed to watch more Law and Order, or something! More and more often, she felt so out of her league. (It made her cranky.)
And if he wasn’t, though, what was he sniffing around her, for? Was he after Jimmy, then?
She wasn’t exactly safe from the law herself, was she? God, what would her mother say to her child behind bars? (When was the last time she’d called her mum?)
Jimmy was better, these days. For weeks, he’d been going out of his way making things right, and not just with her. Cleaning up and cleaning house. He seemed happier, again, finally, playing the guitar again and laughing with her. She didn’t know what the change had been (it wasn’t her, she knew better than to pin any hopes on that), but there had been change. It was good. It felt like he was getting back to himself and dumping the dirt he’d had his hands in.
So as far as she was concerned, whoever this fake was, he was a day late and a dollar short if he was hoping to get anything out of her about that hot mess. Everyone deserved a second chance; even Jimmy Stone.
But he brought up Roy like that, and she didn’t want to miss a chance there.
Roy was meant to be getting out of the game. She thought that was what made Jimmy better, ‘cause didn’t they spend all that time together? They were figuring it out, and Roy and his man were making plans, and they were gonna reach out to Rose once they were settled. She was happy for them.
Only it had been 6 weeks, and she wasn’t stupid, and there was something about Jimmy that still made her hairs rise on the back of her neck, or wouldn’t she have just gone back to her mum? And now someone was asking about Roy, and she wanted nothing more than to /know/, so she said, “I know Roy,” and it was a dare. Only she didn’t know what the challenge was.
He could have told her.
Connor considered it, idly, watching Ms Tyler sip at her drink and pretend she was not watching him too closely. She wasn’t as good at it as she thought she was - not trained - but she would have passed, if he’d not been paying attention in return. There were things she knew that Connor would have liked to ask her about, but New Year’s Day was not the place to be doing that, in the early hours of the morning with her boyfriend set for arrest very soon. He searched her, brow just touching on a question he didn’t ask (yes, though, he had something to say) –
She knew Roy, she dared. Connor decided that telling her of the way his body had arrived in the morgue would be unkind. That she was young, truly, and maybe even afraid. She knew Roy. She did not know that he was dead. Connor decided against pressing for answers he didn’t need, at her expense.
This decision was made through an extended period of eye contact, each sussing the other out, so Connor offered matter-of-factly: “I’m gay.” A change of subject. They’d been flirting, but he offered the information now, a peace offering: if she did not ask, he would not ask in return, and they could wait out the hours to her boyfriend’s arrest, together. Without Ms Tyler calling to warn him beforehand. “What brought you to the States?” their records didn’t show someone traveling with Jimmy, when he’d first arrived.
The change came slowly, and on purpose. She ran her tongue along her teeth as though testing what sort of taste the idea of letting it go left in her mouth. For one brave moment, she thought, No. No, this wasn’t right. If he knew something about Roy and all that, she ought to ask, and keep asking till he said. She ought to - To what, though? What was she going to do with anything she learned? What if he was fine already and her nosing would drag him back into it, somehow? Nothing said he had to let her know anything. And what if something had happened? What if something really had happened? What could she do about any of that, really? Nothing, really. She was just... Unhappy, by the looks of her. She offered some placating little smile and pushed her drink away. “I’m not,” she offered in the same vein: a related fact to change the subject. She did not link either confession with any of their previous flirting. “Kissed a few girls, though,” she added, right back at it again. Even she knew it was a lame attempt and she laughed at herself for it, ducking her face away into her cup again to chew at the straw. At least he took pity on her. “What brought you to the states?” “Well, nothing was happening back home, was it? And Jimmy said he had a good thing going over here.” A shrug. He wasn’t lying at the time. “And then you just sort get used to it, don’t you? Wherever you go, that’s where you are. “And it’s in all the movies, you know? All that ‘American Dream’ and everything. Fresh start in the colonies,” she hummed, tongue in cheek and wry. Never say much about visas and work permits or anything like that, do they? Mm. No. False advertising is what it all was, as far as she was concerned. She couldn’t even think about taking classes. “Hey, Frankie!” She waved over Connor’s shoulder, brightening at the appearance of a friendly face and an easy change of topic. “Come and sit! She’s a good girl, our Frankie!” she clarified for - Er - Rose let slip a self chastising laugh. “I’d introduce the two of you, but I don’t know your name!” “Oh, he’s cute!” The woman dwarfed Rose and Connor both, but she moved without any clumsiness or odd angles such height could bring. There was grace to the woman, though she teased Rose with crass familiarity and eyed Connor with a bit of a leer. “He’s gay,” Rose complained. “Oh, hello!” Frankie hummed suggestively, leaning toward Connor with a- “Oh, shut up!” Because Rose went to the trouble of punching her away, Frankie recoiled in good humor. “What? He’s cute! Who is he?” Rose only shrugged and turned her attention back to the suspect stranger, swinging her feet beneath the table, cheerful once again and back to sipping her drink. “Who are you?”


















