Tim + Lucy = ?

Becoming, Not Even Pretending

#104daysofsummervacation
#104daysofchenford
#Day8

Internal musings don't usually translate over easily. Which was why they found themselves working in an awkwardly tinged atmosphere. It wasn't easy, but thankfully, not difficult. They were both in silent agreement over ignoring what had happened. So they carried on as if nothing happened, and things were good that way. No one suspected anything out of the ordinary (Angela being the exception).

Hadjik made the call to "Dim's" phone around 3 pm the next day.
Tim picked up the phone, but Dim answered. "Yo, what up?"

"9 pm, the docks. Pick up a shipment for me. It's triple your last run. Wisco's gonna meet you a block down, he'll exchange your shitty excuse of a car for one of my personal favorite transpo units. Bring your girl, make sure she's ready to burn some rubber. Don't be late. Don't screw up. And don't scratch the paint, or I will personally put a bullet through your brain."
"I gotchu, man. Now, hold up. The docks at 9, or meet your guy at 9 for the car?"
"You are pretty good at the dumbass act, aren't you? If you're as smart as you pretend not to be, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
Then the call was cut off.

Angela, who had been listening in the entire time, said, "We'll get a trace on Wisco's phone so we know the second he pulls up. You and Chen," she nodded to Lucy, "go get ready now."

~ ~ ~

They sat in silence in the small blue car, waiting for the okay from Angela to pull out. The gel in Tim's hair smelled and the fake tattoos irritated him. Lucy's voluminous up-do forced her to scrunch down in her seat so that it didn't get mussed from hitting the ceiling.
He tried to control the tremors in his hands. They were usually steady. The tremors had been a physical reaction he'd developed after the IED took out his jeep in the desert. He'd gotten it under control soon after he returned stateside. But it popped up every once in a while. He couldn't afford to screw this up, especially with Lucy right beside him in this. His life was nothing compared to hers.

He felt like he needed to say something to her before they jumped into the deep end. Before he could get any words out, she lay one of her slender hands on top of the hand he had fisted on the consul. Her touch burned his skin the same way it had the night before. He risked a glance in her direction.
"Tim," she said softly, "relax. It'll be okay."
He allowed his body to lose the tension it was holding as best as he could. His hands still trembled though. She kept her own on top of his without a word, the warmth coursing between their touch at least providing a sense of ease for his neurons to intercept.

"Wisco's just pulled up. Ditch the listening pieces, but we've got eyes on your every move from here."

They pulled up behind Wisco, who looked furious. With one last comforting squeeze on his hand, Dim and Jucy got out of the car.

"You got some nerve pulling up here behind me."
"Relax, man," Dim said, "I ain't lookin' to pop nobody." He surveyed the sleek, black beast Hadjik had coined a "personal favorite." "Ah, so this is the ride whose condition my life depends upon."
"You got that right."
"What's so special about it though? It's just another set of wheels."

Wisco opened his mouth to protest when Jucy spoke up.
"Aw, baby, this ain't just another set of wheels. It's a Ford F-150. Four-wheel drive, up to 450 horsepower, and- well the point is, it's fast."
Wisco took in Jucy's appearance. Smoky eye make-up, leather jacket, and jeans. Gaudy jewelry and long acrylic nails.
"Your girl knows her stuff," he said.
"Well-" "His girl," Jucy interrupted, "would like to get this on a roll." She snapped her gum, irritated.

"You aren't gonna check that attitude on her?" Wisco asked Dim.
Jucy, again, answered. "I'll drop the attitude honey when you remember that I don't need my man being used as a parrot for which I am capable of comprehending. Now, can we move?"
Wisco shot Dim a look, who merely shrugged, "I don't hold the reins in this relationship."

"Alright, whatever. Look," he said, indicating Jucy, "you drive in the back entrance of the docs. We got a guy who's taken care of the guard back there. He'll wave you through. Back in just beside the third green shipping container." She nodded. "Then stay in the truck and keep quiet."
"What are you tryna say honey?" she asked with venom in her voice.
"Hey, hey, baby," Dim interrupted, "Look it's just how these things have to go, okay? He ain't sayin' nothing to you. It's just better for everyone if the rules are followed."
She pouted but nodded.
"Okay," Wisco continued, "you'll get out of the car and wait right in front. Make sure you pull all three bags from the back row and have 'em up with you. A green sedan will pull up. The man who greets you will have a tattoo on his right hand. You'll see it as you shake hands. Which, you will do. It's the procedure. You'll say you have his money and he'll tell you he's got your goods. He'll signal for the dope to be brought out. All you'll do is check the bags for bugs. Then toss over the money. They'll check as you know, and once he says 'til next time' get in the car, and then she-you" he quickly corrected, " drive out at a normal pace. Once you hit this spot, pull over, and lift the back seats so you can pack the bags underneath in the compartment. Make sure it's shut. There's a GPS with a preset destination. All backroads. Burn rubber. Then once you've delivered, make a U-turn. Depending on your timing, Hadjik may or may not pick you up for more running."

Jucy looked pissed about something, but Dim lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Gotchu, man."

"Great. Don't scratch the paint."

"Ugh," Jucy scoffed after Wisco drove off in their mini blue car, "as if. This car's too nice to scratch anyway."

Tim didn't comment on the fact that she didn't have to "stay" in character. She was Jucy. Lucy didn't exist.