khajidont | MoM IC Contact: TAKE TWO

Awww.

[God, it's that drawn-out sort of "aw" people usually reserve for adorable babies, adorable old people, and adorable animals. Only it's coming from Will Graham and isn't forced or put upon. Jaime has seen him in class, he has seen him destroying a car, he has (secretly) seen him in distress, and now the social link levels up because they're sharing this incredibly personal moment of puppy love.]

Never met a dog I didn't like. Difficult not to like a dog. [Incredibly personal moment intensifies; Will lowers his voice like he's imparting a Sworn Secret while still showering BB with affection.] Animals in general. Cats too. Imagine BB with a cat who loves him and who he loves, that cheerful goes right off the charts.

[Seeing Will coo at BB is enough to make Jaime's grin grow just that much larger, amused at the way Will's practically falling apart over this little dog. It's kind of funny and cute all at once - not that Jaime will ever say that to Will's face - but however you categorize it, it's definitely an endearing sight. He reaches out, scratching BB's ass, because he's learned to be a true Dog Dad, and that occasionally means scratching that bit right in front of their tails.]

I dunno about a cat. You don't think he'd chase them? He likes chasing things.

He might! [Jaime can take the rear, Will is content to scratch that chin. Aw yes, maybe they can get one of those back legs kicking.] Part of the bonding process. Can be. If the cat allows it, the dog might get bored of it. If the cat scratches back, the dog'll learn to give the cat more respect.

[Kind of like a courtship. A friend courtship. But hah if Will is ever voicing that.]

You could always bring him by the house and see how he responds to our kitties.

If you really think it'd be okay. The last thing I want him to do is hurt anyone, even if it's by accident.

[Blue boys gotta stick together...! Even if one's idea of hurting someone by accident is throwing someone through a building, whereas BB just has very, very sharp teeth, though no moreso than any other dog on the market.]

But you gotta promise you won't try and keep him, [he can't help but joke. He knows Will has a proper zoo going on in his house.]

[Oh no. Does Jaime know his Darkest Secret? It's not that he's a cannibal, it's that he has a terrible vice of taking dogs that are not technically his. Has he been found out? Is this a warning?

Will laughs lightly in response, fading away into a sort of sigh. Haha, so funny, that would never ever happen. Will isn't pulling out a baggie of homemade treats from his back pocket to share with BB or anything. Except he totally is. This dog will love him even if they only meet once.]

'Course not. If you ever needed somebody to watch him for a while, sure, he could stay. But we don't keep guests at our place. [Enjoy that snack, BB. Enjoy the weird healthiness of it all.] Anybody who stays has gotta need to or want to. We don't take anyone against their will.

I didn't think you actually would, [Jaime says with a laugh.] Besides, BB here's loyal. He'd come back with me if I asked. Or if I rolled around in bacon beforehand, whichever one came first.

[Maybe Will has homemade snacks, but Jaime has junk food. Junk food will always, always prevail, even if BB is a world-class eater, when it all comes down to it.]

How many have you guys got now, anyway?

[That beaming smile seemingly incapable of quitting only grows at the mention of bacon, only to be struck down entirely at the question. Because Will looks at Jaime, slightly startled, and then puts on his best thinking face. There's enough pause to mentally list names before...]

Six. [Right? His face screws up before he decides yes, that's right. So close to his goal of having a pack like he had back home. So close.] April had Digby before we ever met, and Bark was some housemates' who've been gone for a while. Abigail adopted a Leonberger when I wasn't around. Sharkbait likes Jeff more than anyone else in the world. Charlie doesn't go out much...you know Gunther.

[As if Jaime needs the reminder, Will puts a crooked finger to BB's mouth to give him the appearance of being a mustached gentledoge.]

Whoa. Is that even legal?

[He holds his hands up, as if defending himself from Will's potential ire, because he has no intention of letting the po-po take Will's precious pooches away. They have a happier life with Will and April than they would anywhere else, he's sure.] Not that I'm gonna tattle or anything! That's just a lotta dog to take care of. I should have been giving you more tennis balls as road trip souvenirs this whole time.

[Potential ire never comes. An eyebrow shoots up, but that's the only reaction Jaime gets. Will has done so much illegal stuff, relating to dogs even, that this particular questioning of his moral choices when it comes to obeying the law doesn't scratch the surface of his defenses.]

Sure it is. They're all cared for, fed, up-to-date with their shots and the like. Only becomes a problem when you got too many to care for. Or you just don't care for them. [Then Will Graham is there to yoink dogs away and make them part of his family. That's how Baltimore rolls, yo. But he won't take BB. He'll just appreciate him with more scratches and another homemade treat.] Had eight back home, for a while. Never had a problem. 'Cept for when they all get sick at the same time, that's a problem.

[Jaime latches onto the wrong thing in that statement, which is not the eight dogs (why), or the dubious legality of the thing (he could have sworn you were only allowed to have three at a time in the city), but on dreaded, dreaded doggy illness. He reaches out, ruffling at BB's ears as he asks, earnestly,] Are there special things to watch out for for your dog getting sick? I read a little about it, but I've never actually helped own a pet before. 'Cept for a goldfish. A very dead goldfish, but that wasn't my fault.

[Jaime takes the ears and Will's hand roams down BB's spine, and he finally gives in and just sits on the floor with his legs crossed so BB can take over his lap if he's so inclined.]

Lots of human foods are bad for dogs. Alcohol, chocolate, some vegetables. Never, ever let him get a hold of grapes or raisins. Onions. Garlic. Mushrooms. There's an artificial sweetener common in gum that's very bad for doggies, too. [Doggies, Jaime has truly seen him at his most dog-loving.] Any plant with a bulb's to be avoided. Citrus-y things. Vitamins, especially iron. Nuts...

[And then it hits him, and he looks up at Jaime with a smile.]

I make all our dogs' food from scratch. It's a recipe I've used for a long, long time, never had a problem with it. If you'd like, it wouldn't be a problem at all to add another mouth. You'd save on pet food and having to figure out which one he likes best, is best for him. I could drop it off weekly.

[Jaime looks a little shellshocked at that list, desperately going back in his head to try and remember what he's absently fed to BB without thinking twice about it. Has he accidentally poisoned BB? Is he going to kill his dog? Oh god, who gave him this responsibility? That's it, he's giving him back to Ted permanently. He knew about grapes and onions, but the rest of it... not so much.]

But dog food's so expensive! [He blurts out, even if mentally he's wishing for a pad of paper and a pen to write down Will's expertise.] We'd have to pay you, at least.

[Jaime will accept food from Will, will accept a free coke every now and then, but free food on a weekly basis, just for BB? That's too much.]

[It's okay, Jaime. Will is always happy to talk about dogs. If Jaime called him at the buttcrack of dawn to ask about anything dog-related, he couldn't even be bothered, he'd just be happy to talk about dogs. Doge is love, doge is life.]

Not the kind I make. [He pulls out another treat to show Jaime, carefully keeping a hand on BB's neck so he doesn't snap it up. It's an odd, nugget-y shape, gritty from being in a bag.] Just different versions of this. I can draw up a list of what's what and what it costs if you wanna pay me back, no problem.

[Nothing is too much for a dog. Ever. Will Graham would beat a man to death to defend a dog's honor.]

[Jaime smiles at Will, a little ruefully.] So you came here 'cause you cooked for me, and now you're leaving promising to cook more. Thanks, Will. Seriously. I don't think Ted's ever owned a dog either. But I'll talk to him, see what he says.

[Jaime looks at the treat - which, honestly, looks about as lumpy and appetizing as most of the treats BB wolfs down - and shrugs.]

You ever think of opening a dog food business instead of a fishing store?

No, no no. God no. That wouldn't work. [He laughs, his smile a bit twisted. He couldn't control himself forever. Dogs would become his. He may play ball a little more hardcore than some but he knows his limits when it comes to dogs. He will collect them all without a single ounce of shame.] Too many nonsense rules. Wouldn't be worth the headache, probably'd have to change my recipes to be like the crap on the market.

[This is also true but mostly he'd steal the wrong dog at some point and get in Trouble.]

It's not like I know much about the dog food market.

[He didn't even know there were that many regulations! Though, thinking back on it, that seems like it'd be a given.] But I guess you already bring your dog to work every day as it is. Too bad I can't do that with this little guy; he'd get crushed.

[Then, after a moment, he voices something he's always kind of wondered about.] What is it with you and dogs, anyway? Did you grow up with 'em, or...?

[The look on Will's face is nothing short of Emotional Constipation. No one had ever really asked that before. Will was always just...he had dogs. It was a Thing. His Thing. Everyone knew. Everyone also knew he was a secluded, isolated, antisocial loner and so it was best to leave him alone with anything too invasive or personal.]

Uh—no. [Constipation covered up by putting the treat bag away and giving BB more attention because yes, that's one joy of dogs in his life, he can ignore Unhappy Feelings and focus on petting a dog.] I had a nice stretch of land in Virginia. People'd drop off dogs they didn't want nearby. It was open, not a lot of traffic...nobody's gonna see them dumping a dog off. [His tone is Factual, no trace of upset or bitterness or anything else.] Finding good homes for the cute ones was possible, sure, but most people didn't want mutts. Or older dogs. Dogs with health issues. The, uh, ugly leftover riffraff, if you will. So they stayed. And more were dropped off. And more stayed. And then the living room was full of dog beds and I never had to worry about anyone stopping by without me being aware of them first.

[Dogs also never made promises they broke. They didn't barrage him with questions about how his day was, how was he feeling, when he was going to do this or that or the other. They never told him he looked tired, or worn, or in need of a break. They just laid down for a scratch and all was well.]

[This isn't the story he was expecting, to be honest. He was expecting more of a whole, oh, you know, I always had a dog growing up, and once I moved out, I knew I had to have one for my home too... But this makes even more sense, from what he knows of Will. Whether they had fur or not, Will's always been the sort to speak his mind, quite sensibly, and use that very same sensibility to take in strays of all kinds. He's certainly taken Jaime underneath his wing too, in his own, funny sort of way.]

I don't understand how people can do that. They were lucky to have you around, huh? [He offers Will a small smile.] I always thought you lived in the big city, though.

[Big city? Him? What? Confusion flashes over his face just long enough for him to realize the obvious: Baltimore. Before him, there was Frederick Chilton and Abel Gideon, who could claim Baltimore as their home. He came, and he was asked if he was from Baltimore as well. Eventually it became easier to just toss the name out there. That city held their particular devil, tied them all together with an ugly bow of blood and pain and betrayal.]

Oh—no, no. I didn't live there. Worked there a few times. My psychiatrist's office and home was in Baltimore, too. Spent a lot of time in the city. [Except for when he was incarcerated, literally time served in Baltimore. Good stuff. Will finally moves to stand with the help of the counter, holding BB close to his chest as he does so like the strength of a dog will carry him through any awkwardness with grace and ease.] It's nice to meet you, little guy. [He...actually shakes the dog's paw before a gentle ear ruffling and being set back down.] Hope the food's up to snuff. You can let me know if it isn't. It's not rude, feedback.

Sure. I'm sure it'll be great, though.

[Jaime looks a little bewildered about the sudden change in conversation, about the way Will's stood up like his ass is on fire, ready to bid BB adieu and fly out the door. He's not going to stop him, but it's weird. Jaime's observant enough to know that he knows very little about Will's life back home, but questions as innocuous as why do you like dogs and where did you live usually don't spur this kind of reaction even from the most secretive of folks. He looks between BB and Will, perplexed.]

You, um... you don't like talking about home, huh? You don't have to. I mean, if you don't want to answer any questions, you can just... not.

[Which is to say, he doesn't have to just change the subject and fly out the door.]

[Ah. Caught. Well. He hadn't been subtle, he supposes. Will has a properly shamed moment, looking at the dog.]

Shouldn't have put you down. [Telltale sign, alas. It can't be helped. If he didn't put down BB soon, he might not have been able to put him down at all, and Jaime had been through enough without dog theft. But he can't be fake mad at a dog for long, and so he looks back up and shrugs one shoulder.] It's not that I don't like. My home. Or talking about it. It's...there's not a lot to talk about. Not a lot that's easy to digest [o no] for people who aren't from there. I barely talk about it with April. Just don't wanna...

[His tone, the hesitant look, it's far more reminiscent of a teenager with self-esteem issues than a grown man. That's how bad Baltimore is (at least probably to great folks like Jaime).]

...worry anybody.

[Worry, horrify, same thing.]

Edited 2016-06-29 04:38 (UTC)

Well... I don't know how much you have to worry about worrying me. That sounds funny. [They're in a jamjar; their lives are a constant cycle of worrying, because evidently nobody here has it 100% easy, and those who did, no longer have that luxury. He knows that Will had connections to a serial killer (and one heck of a serial killer at that), knows that he's dead, knows that he wound up killing Hannibal in turn... that seems like plenty to him. What else is Will hiding?]

I'd rather you just say what you wanna say, you know? But I've had plenty of friends who just don't wanna talk about, like, anything from home. At all. And I can respect that too, so long as it's what they really want.

[Unspoken: so long as it's what you really want.

But being secretive about things like the city you're from? That just sounds exhausting to Jaime.]

[Will's quiet, watching Jaime with all the attentiveness usually reserved for students desperately trying to be top of the class. And that "you caught me" vibe vanishes the more Jaime speaks, replaced by all-too-real smile. Tension is gone; in its place is relief and another reminder of a realization he had long ago.

So maybe the kid isn't great with wordplay or banter. So fucking what. He's observant, and quick with his observations, and better yet, he's gentle with bringing them to light. Like being awoken by softly tinkling wind chimes instead of having cymbals clashed right next to an already sensitive ear. He wonders who else sees this side of Jaime. Who picks up on it. And, always, hopes no one who'd use it to their advantage gets a look at him. The real him. Jaime's is a rare type of goodness that needs to be present and encouraged, not warped or slaughtered. He's quiet after, that dumb smile on his face, and then finally:]

Whatever your job is paying you isn't enough. [Praise delivered with Utmost Fondness. Perhaps it seems abrupt, a bizarre change of topic to get away from Will himself, but the confidence behind his words is as genuine and steady as marble steps.] I will keep it in mind and do that from now on. It was never my intention to disrespect you—but you realize this is one of those it's not you it's me issues, don't you.

[Not a question. A valid point. A good point. Evidence Jaime is likely the smartest mechanic in that garage.]

I'm pretty sure they're paying me enough, [Jaime says, with the air of bewilderment of one who's really not entirely certain what Will means, or what Jaime's mechanical skills have to do with what they're talking about now. He gets the fondness in his voice, and it's enough to make him smile, but it's with the air of a dog who's just been told that he's a good boy; they're very happy with the praise, even if they haven't the foggiest where it's coming from. Who's a good mechanic? You are, Jaime!]

It's not really a respect thing. I mean, it kind of is, but that wasn't really my point. My point was... well, mostly that if you ever felt comfortable enough talking about stuff from your home, don't feel like you can't. I've heard plenty, by now.

[The best mechanic. He deserves all the ear scratches, belly rubs, snacks, walkies, and cuddles anyone can provide. And also a raise. Of like, double what he makes now. But there is no perfect world like that. So depressing.]

I'm sure you have. You've got quite the group of people around you. [So many imPorts love that Jaime Reyes, and so many of them come from worlds where Fucked Up barely begins to cover it. Maybe cannibalism isn't really the worst thing Jaime would have heard, but it's still rather foul. Fouler still Will kept broing it up with Big Daddy Cannibal. Like hell he discusses that with literally anyone, though, much less Pure Sunshine Jaime Reyes.] Maybe in the future. It's—you have stuff from home you don't talk about with anyone, don't you?

[No judgment in his tone, just simple curiosity. Stuff beyond the usual teenage embarrassment. Stuff that doesn't seem to matter, or stuff that matters so much he could nearly choke with horror at the thought anyone would find out. Good people have seen some shit, too. Have been influenced by it. Have worries, and fears, and everything else under the sun.]

MoM IC Contact: TAKE TWO

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