noteasytobepink | Wheelsy AU ~ Hollywood Nights

"I could wish for simple." she shrugged. "I couldn't stop analyzing if I tried now. There's always angles, Bill, and there's always reasons behind the reasons." It was important to know them all.

"Easier to ignore the shadows when the lights never go out Bill, I'll give the bright lights that." She pulled a stick into her lap to sharpen. "But you never see the stars or grow if there's no still nights either. I like it here."

"Sometimes people are just people." With their heart out on their sleeve. Like him. Or so he thought.

Her last words surprised him.

"Y'do?"

"People usually are just people, but people are complicated Bill, even you. You just pretend you're not and don't think too deeply on the facets if you don't have to." Otherwise he'd learn more about his friends and neighbors than he wanted to know! "That's normal for living in a society properly. No one wants to think ill of people they see every day, or even really understand them." It wouldn't lead to social harmony!

"It is a good place for healing, Bill."

"I don't think I'm all that complicated at all."

Taking a drink of whiskey, he swirled the remaining liquid in the cup.

"You're always so restless, I kinda thought the small town life was drivin' you nuts."

"You're very complicated Bill, and you dislike talking about yourself and you're own thoughts to a nearly paranoid degree. You prefer to let others guess about you, or assume, and live up to their rumors." Self containment, to a degree.

"I am restless, but that's me, not your town. I don't know when I'll get yanked back, and I'm not up to par yet, which puts me on edge."

He gave a dry chuckle.

"Paranoid. Don't think I've been called that before."

He thought over her words, and wondered if she was right about him.

He was here because Starla invited him, and even after what happened today he could be sure she never gave a thought to him leaving. She assumed he would be here for her tomorrow night, and he would be.

And when he went home, the rumors would swirl about what happened, and he probably wouldn't do a thing to deny them.

"Well I'm glad at least you're likin' it while you're here. There, I mean, y'know."

"Don't worry Bill, I tend to be a first for lots of things. First paranoia statement, first pink humanoid, first mutant...etc etc etc." She waved a hand in that 'so forth and so on' kinda gesture. "Tell me if I lie. Is it easier your way then?" Easy might account for it?

"Here, there, all the same planet really. Yours isn't so bad."

He thought about it a moment, then gave a weak shrug.

"I dunno. I get run over an' knocked down a lot, an' most times it doesn't seem like anyone notices." Or cares. "They expect me t'pick myself back up an' walk it off, an' I do, but sometimes only because I'm supposed to."

He's the good son. The starting quarterback. The friendly sheriff. The hometown hero.

If this were another world, he'd be wearing a cape and leaping over tall buildings.

"It's easier t'do it that way, than to disappoint. Or let folks in to see what's real."

"People have to be real sometimes Bill, you know that." Maybe deep inside but he knew. "Else you burn out and lose track of what's truly good and moral in the world." He'd erase himself while he was chasing what others expected.

"You're important to, and a person I'd like to know."

"Maybe I'm burnt out already." Not that he felt his moral scale had been tilted, but he had doubts now about where he was all that in touch with himself.

Taking a drink, he swallowed slowly and let her words settle.

"What did you want t'know?"

"Do you feel burnt out then?" She asked, curious. "It is a risk, A vacation perhaps? Did you even rest after the attack on Wheelsy or throw yourself back into work?" She set her spike aside and leaned forward again, watching him.

As for the other..."Anything you'd like to tell. I'm your friend Bill, not your interrogator."

"I feel it sometimes. Stretched thin, I guess."

Maybe he was overworked, but he was needed. And he liked his job, really, he did.

"The town was a wreck, I couldn't just-- " he shook his head. "I put her back together, an' then I made sure she was runnin' well after."

And then he kept going from there.

"Besides, what the hell would I do on vacation? Putter around an' empty house? Get a taste of what retirement's gonna be like?"

She wasn't interrogating him, which was good. She also wasn't some therapist, which was better.

"I think we've had some good talks. I mean... well, I think I've talked t'you more than I have anyone else in a long time."

"I think you do need a vacation then," she nodded. "Someplace NOT Wheelsy for a while. Maybe a beach, or a different set of mountains with slightly different fishing. Don't tell me you couldn't fish for a week peacefully." Or watch football if there was a week of football?

"Does that make me easy to talk to then?"

"I guess I could do that." His reply was noncommittal enough to suggest that he didn't think now would be the best time.

After today, a week away from Wheelsy and the Job would probably just be a week of more boozing and too much time spent on 'what if?' thoughts.

"Yeah, I guess. Y'are, an' maybe part of it is that third party stuff you're always talkin' about, but you're also... I dunno. Nice about it."

He didn't feel pressured with her, and he always felt like she was actually listening.

She hadn't meant now, not tonight certainly, and she hadn't really meant alone. She didn't trust him alone right now...

"You guess then. Hmmm, I'll have to research vacation spots then. And make a swimsuit." DOOOOOOOM!

"You're worth listening to Bill. You've a lot to say sometimes, and you listen when I speak too."

"Charleston has a nice beach," he said over his cup. "Been there a couple times."

He knew he was probably the only person on the planet who had to be dragged into a vacation, but he'd try and get behind the idea.

"I didn't realize how quiet the house was until you started stayin' with me. I shoot the shit with a lotta people, but I didn't have anyone t'really talk to anymore."

"Right, the first place to research: Charleston." She flexed her fingers like she was typing, though didn't turn toward the computer just yet.

And no, he wasn't the only person the planet, but seeing as how this wasn't Clarice's planet...and it wasn't currently in peril...it seemed as good a time as any to kidnap him?

"It's easy for places you stay in a long time to trick you like that." Clarice chuckled softly. "It's like a shell sometimes, a long term home, safe and snug as a turtle's shell. In your case it's a little too roomy sometimes." Really too much house for one person. "But I say it's about right now."

"Yeah, I got it awhile back." With the hope in mind that maybe someday he'd have someone to share it with.

"Thought I was bein' smart at the time; gettin' a place then, so I wouldn't have t'live with a mortgage hangin' over me the rest of my life."

Growing up, house payments could be awful. A roof always came before other things, sometimes even groceries.

He gave an unamused chuckle, and shook his head.

"Hell, I'm almost halfway done payin' it off."

"And I'm grateful you had the room." Wish granted, Bill, you were sharing a house. "Can you imagine me on the charity of the church or something? Or Doc trying to pass me as his niece hiding in the country?" Could he really, really see it?

"Huh..." she peered upward at the precinct roof, then glanced out the window towards the Sheriff's house. "How much does a house actually cost?"

"Not really." He could maybe see the doc taking some of what she does in stride, but not the church.

"A lot." The cup was getting empty again, so he tried to pace himself with smaller sips. "Got myself into a thirty year mortgage, so I measure it mostly in time, not dollars. S'easier that way."

Sort of.

"Precisely. Grateful, very, for the room." Sooo much. "And towels. You have awesome towels. And your bed sheets ain't bad either..." She had a list of little things she was grateful for!

"...you signed thirty years of your life for a house?" There...had to be an easier way. Bank robbery came to mind. It would even be 'Just' if it were an evil bank!

"Didn't know my linens were so popular. M'glad you like 'em."

Her tone and question made him look at her and frown.

Yep, time to pour again; he topped off what was left in the cup.

"I signed away thirty years of my life on a dream."

He took his shot, which was more two big gulps, and sneered as the whiskey burned.

"More like a delusion, but whatever."

"A home is never a delusion, Bill. I just...never realized how rooted people were." She knew about people, in houses, raising families and such but to sign for years?! That was just...

She'd never had a house.

Home was people in her mind.

And oh...yeah...she was throwing a stick through her portal. This one didn't open another portal, no, this one impacted Bill's whiskey bottle and made the whole thing shimmer pink before disappearing. Target porting was fun?

"Anyway, back to your linens. Who made the quilt on my bed? It's awesome!"

"Not he house, I meant-- " he frowned and shook his head. "Never mind. But it ain't like I got a bad deal. Thirty years is pretty standard, I'd have more paid on it, but I was busy payin' off my mom's house, first."

He heard the 'tink' when her stick hit his bottle, and yanked his hand back before the whiskey disappeared.

"Hey!"

"You were speeding up again," she answered blandly to his 'Hey!'. He'd find the bottle, safe and sound, in the drawer of the hotel dresser but that involved looking now didn't it?

"I don't get the house thing. Shouldn't you make enough as sheriff of a whole town to not have to do things for thirty years? I...money is weird."

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