You're Always You

Chapter Twenty-Five

David Minett

"We serve in different ways," she says.

Yeah, well, there's military service and then there's sex slavery.

Ugh.

David wouldn't have been opposed to sticking around, given that Dick was obviously in a bad mood and obviously liked to throw Lydia around, which pissed David off. But, he didn't start tonight, he started tomorrow. He wished he started tonight, but he had to have the appropriate attire. Obviously a stripclub wasn't as strict with its uniform as the mall was, but that didn't change the fact that David was not dressed for bouncing.

So, begrudgingly he went home.

As expected, however, he had been a bit overqualified, but apparently the manager wasn't going to pass up these kinds of credentials. Not that Dave could say he blamed the guy; most of the other guards here probably weren't working here because they had a choice.

Funny how nobody that was employed in a strip club wanted to be there.

Or, maybe that was David's optimism, considering Lydia had admitted lots of the other guards were as pervy as the patrons.

Gross.

Whatever. Not the point.

He was hired. His business here, for now, was done.

Back home he went.

"So," Monica piped up, not having moved much since he'd left. "How'd it go? Didja get a free welcome dance?"

"No," David retorted, glaring at his sister. "Would you—Enough with the dancing! But yes, I got a job. I hate that I was gone so long, but apparently that was impressive."

She nodded. "Well yeah. Not every day an Army sergeant walks up like 'sup bitches, I wanna guard your bitches.'" She spread her hands, as if to magnify her point. "They'd expect somebody like you to work somewhere, y'know, worth your experience. I'm surprised they didn't tell you that. 'Work somewhere that'll pay ya better, dude.'"

"He almost did," David admitted, rubbing his neck. "But I guess letting people think you're a pervert pays off."

Monica scoffed and rolled her eyes at that. "Well. At least you're not. The customers were bad, but there was this one guy—"

"Don't tell me," he interjected. "The last thing I wanna do is walk into my first night on the job and deck somebody for groping my sister, okay."

"Fair," Moni agreed. "But Dee was nice, so that's a plus. Gay as all fuck, but not like us ladies cared, y'know? Oh. You might though. Don't pick any tight pants for your uniform. Or a tight shirt."

....

Great. Good to know. "Well, I'd rather be the one harassed than to let any of the girls get harassed," David said. "I'll take it like a champ."

"Don't say that, either."

....

"Monica, please."

She giggled. "I'm kidding....Mostly. Sort of. Not really."

"Monica."

"Okayokayokay," she said, waving her hands. "Say, how's uh....How's the whole...Brett thing going? I know Dad said no, but....I dunno what else you might've tried to do for him today."

That was a good question. In truth, David had certainly tried, but he was drawing blanks left and right, and was running out of things he could think of trying to do. It was...depressing. He already had Brett on his best behavior, doing everything in his power while inside to earn credit that way, but was only going to help so much. David wanted his brother out now.

Not in six months or something.

"Nothing today," he admitted, moving over towards the couch. Monica sat herself up to make room for him to sit, and he plopped down beside her. "But, tomorrow I've got a meeting with the warden, so....We'll see how that goes."

"You're gonna try yourself?"

"Nobody else will risk ass for it," David responded ruefully. "And I figure, hey, if eleven years of servitude is good enough for a stripclub, maybe the warden will think so, too." It was a long shot, but nobody higher was going to do anything about this, clearly. He just hoped being an Army sergeant in his own right was enough.

Army sergeant.

Yeah, that was still weird. David hadn't been nearly as up in the order as that before. It wasn't easy getting used to having more weight than a private, first class, would have, which was what he used to be. Hopefully his magic alternate universe memory would come to save the day.

"Yeah, because stripclub just screams highbrow enough to impress a prison warden," Monica remarked.

David rolled his eyes. "You get my point," he retorted. "Besides, you're probably right. I don't expect it go well, I hope it does."

Monica sighed and nodded her head. "...I hope it does, too."

A rather depressed silence passed between them, and Dave sighed. "Hey," he said. "Why don't we go out, do something."

"Like what?" she asked, making a face.

"Iunno, anything. You like shopping, right. I mean....We're both pretty broke, but we can window shop. Get...ice cream, or something. I don't know, but it beats sitting here like a sad sack."

At that, his sister laughed, and nodded her head. "Okay."

—

If this didn't work, David was resorting to blackmail somehow.

Somehow. He didn't know how, but it was what he was willing to do at this point. Sure, that was illegal, but....Well. This universe sucked as it was. May as well get sucky.

No jokes, please.

"So, what's this about exactly?"

The warden's voice brought David out of his thoughts, as he'd been looking around the office for a moment. Most notably was the picture frame on the warden's desk, of himself and his wife and daughter.

Dave put that information away for later, and spoke up, "My brother, Brett."

"Brett what. Gotta lotta inmates here, pal."

Yeah, more than you're legally supposed to, apparently. That was good material, too. "Brett Minett," David clarified. "He's supposed to get out next year, but we're trying to expedite that a little bit."

"Oh yeah," the warden muttered, puffing a cigar despite the fact that, Dave was pretty sure, this was a smoke free building. "I caught wind o' that. S'a good kid, I guess. Not that much trouble inside, if you ignore the fact that he's been inside like five times."

....

"Let's," David replied pointedly.

He warden blew out a breath, sending acrid smoke with it and making David close his eyes and hold his breath for a few moments. This....

This wasn't going to go well.

* * * * *

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XOXO Alice