25: [Action] Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

[dashboardlite]

It ain't often that I get myself all gussied up in my gray glad rags, but today's a holiday.  For one, the bets I placed with my bookie on a couple of bangtails came through - few hundred greenbacks richer, and that's only the beginning.  It ain't often that I'm on the nut, 'cause work comes easy as long as somebody wants somebody else dead.

But I deserve the reward.

I light up another butt and inhale deeply.  It'll be a while before another butter and egg man swings by my usual joint, and I can't afford to fleece a john when the hallways are lousy with 'em.  Bunkoing some poor shmoe ain't on the to-do list.

...but a Jane with some nice pins might be.  The wallet's fat, and it's probably obvious by the stupid grin on my face.  The heat I'm packing is heavier, though, and not what you wanna mess with.

I might as well take a walk around the block and see what's what.



[[ooc; For those of you who have NO IDEA what he's saying, here is a convenient reference.]]

Comments

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

He's got me there.

"Whaddayou care, anyway? You got your business, and I got mine. Just 'cause mine ain't always legal doesn't mean it's bad."

Just messy.

[out-of-minutes.livejournal.com]

I take a step closer. No tellin' when he'll get antsy and try to take the run-out.

"Why Mr. Winchester, that sounds about the closest to a confession I've ever gotten outta you. Blood under your fingernails, admitting to illegal business... it's almost like you want to be in bracelets."

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

"Ha, that's a laugh," I chuckle, pulling up a more convincing expression.

"Jay-walking's illegal too, dick. I think you just want an excuse to punch my pretty face in."

you just wanted to call him a dick XD

[out-of-minutes.livejournal.com]

Punchin' his face in's the last thing I wanna do to it. Speakin' of crimes.

"That doesn't sound like a denial to me."

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

The longer he stares at me, the more I feel all that resolve crumbling. I shift a little, definitely uncomfortable about the whole deal, and crack.

"Look, Cas, I just dropped in on an old friend, okay?"

[out-of-minutes.livejournal.com]

Well whaddaya know. Wasn't actually expectin' him to crack so easy.

"That wouldn'ta been the murderin' kid of 'drop', now would it?"

To be honest, I actually doubt it. But he's been up to something, something that has him satisfied like the fox that got up to shenanigans in the henhouse. And I aim to suss out what.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

"I didn't rub anyone out, Jesus."

I'm not so happy anymore. Dwelling on the fact that I paid a visit to a former friend with a switchblade doesn't improve the mood the more you think about it.

"We just gonna jaw in the middle of the hallway, or d'you want someplace more private?"

[out-of-minutes.livejournal.com]

"...Fine."

So maybe he didn't kill anybody - like I guessed. But he's just as much as admitted he's been up to something.

"You got somethin' ta hide, I don't blame you for wantin' a quiet spot away from, oh, cops and decent folk." Notice I don't include myself in either club. I gesture for him to lead the way.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

"Decent folk," I snort, tipping my hat up and turning on one heel. "Yeah, right."

I lead the way down the hall and around a corner, to a quiet, dead-end area in the shadows with a few unmarked doors. I pick one and step inside, gesturing that Novak should follow. It's as private a place as any.

Might as well drop the bomb, right?

"Paid a little visit to the sonuvabitch that took my eye."