Blood Love

Now: Still Day 3

"My nose is going to be whistling for a week."

Jason threw a cold can of beer at Ricky, who proceeded to press it against his nose. "You'll be fine. Grow up."

After going at it for a good five minutes, the two friends eventually shoved away from each other and realized what monumental idiots they were being, and that beating the shit out of each other ultimately solved nothing. Then Jason ran out and got another six-pack—but mostly for Ricky to put on his broken nose.

"I still can't believe you got her pregnant. You. Christ, I'm gonna be an uncle."

He rolled his eyes, anxiety trickling through him once more at the thought of her. "Shut up."

A knock at the door piqued his attention, and he released a muttered curse. "Is that him?"

"Yep."

"Fantastic." Admittedly, he wasn't all that overjoyed to have so much abrupt intervention on his "homicidal quest for misguided vengeance", or however Ricky put it. Yanking open the door revealed a smirking Butch with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Jason growled. "Bite me."

Butch laughed, pushing passed him. "Another time, my friend, another time. But good to see you, too."

"If this is some kind of intervention I'll kick both your asses. And I don't think Ricky can take another one."

Butch grabbed a beer and flopped down in a chair and slung the duffel bag over his shoulder onto the desk. Inside was a laptop.

"Encrypted?" Jason inquired.

"To hell and back."

"Excellent."

The three of them got to work, then, working off the measly lead he got from the address. And while he wouldn't admit to being thankful they'd come and found him, it did help having their particular set of skills around. For convenience, of course.

After about ten minutes of complete silence-save for the tapping of the keys-Butch just had to open his mouth.

"So. Pregnant, huh?"

Jason cuffed Ricky on the back of the head. "Shit, man. It was a thirty second phone call. Did you have to fill your gossip fix first?"

Ricky groaned, stabilizing his jostled nose. "You can kiss my ass, Lambargo."

"You were kissing mine a second ago."

"Okay!" Butch exclaimed. "Jeez. Forget I said anything. I got a wife and child at home and a t-ball game Monday morning so let's just do this and be done."

But Ricky latched onto that point of conversation, and sharpened it to a knife directed at Jason. "T-ball, huh?"

"Yep."

"Rory's doing well then, I guess?"

"She's the best. Better than all those snot-nosed boys. You know, I always told her, when she's older, if any of them ever come near her, just swing that bat right at their-"

"See?" Ricky stated, cutting him off. "Functional."

Jason crossed his arms confrontationally. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm just saying. Some people can adjust, some people can't."

"And?"

"And . . ." he shrugged. "And Hayley needs what's best for her. And there are plenty of people to help raise the baby."

Silence followed. You could have heard a pin drop.

"Uh-oh," Butch muttered in a sing-song voice. "Ricky, I thought you already got your ass kicked tonight."