Don't Race a Rabbit

“Lilies.” He deadpanned. “If you want to help, I won’t say no. You can set them down on that coffin over there- I’ve been using it as a dinner table, it’s very flat- and I’ll manage from there.” 

“I shall remember that for next time then.” He set down the first batch of flowers on the coffin, albeit a bit cautiously. “Ah-- is this by chance occupied?”

“Watch it,” she snapped, pushing back a little. “Road’s crowded enough, you’ll get where you’re goin’ soon enough.”

“Well excuse me if it’s hard to see,” he replied, voice muffled around the swathes of flowers in his arms.

“And here I was, thinking they were for me. Thank you, sir. I’ll make sure these get to their graves.”

“Ah, sorry-- I don’t give people flowers unless I know their favourites.” He laughed just a bit. “Er-- you sure you don’t need some help? There’s quite a lot of flowers.”

“I’m actually here to deliver the floral arrangements ordered on behalf of your... ah, clients.”

“Of course I’m joking” Gogo laughed at how protective he seemed to get over the plants. “I get my adrenaline in other ways. I’ll make sure they stay safe from anyone who actually wants to break them” She reassured him. 

He didn’t fully relax. “I still don’t know if I trust you. These plants are fragile, okay?” He wouldn’t say outloud that they were living organisms in case he sounded like a weirdo.

“No, I look distinguished and manly. You just look sad and skinny.” He smirked. “Why so worried, ass? You think Cal has some dirty secrets of yours that she’d share with me?” 

He laughed at that. “I’m ripped, mate. Just because your biceps are thicker than ya head doesn’t mean you’re stronger than I am.” He pointed a finger upwards. “For one thing, that’s a lame insult. For two, I don’t have anything to be ashamed of, I just can’t believe you’ve actually met her.” He was getting on his nerves.

“Well, you are older than me, so I’ll give you that, at least. But I still stand by my word that you aren’t old. Thirty five is still young in my books.” She nodded at his question, hands still clasped around her teacup. “Somewhat, I suppose. I’ve been here nearly a year now, I believe.” Time had seemed to move so fast here, she had actually lost track of how long she’d been here before, though it wasn’t as if she was really counting the days anyway.

He laughed, shrugging lackadaisically. “I suppose you’re right. My perspective’s just a bit different, I guess.” He found it hard to have a comparison of ages when he had no family to grow up with. He brought his cup to his lips, considering her response. “So you’re not as fresh-faced as I thought. Where do you work? I don’t think I’ve run into you much before.”

“I’m 6′5, and you look like you’re ten. That’s what I’m saying about you.” He shrugged. “Cal does always catch them. I trust her judgement. Which is why I’m going to defer to her opinion of you, despite your sparkling first impression.” 

He puffed up even more, like an offended porcupine. “I look more like an adult than you do, y’ look like a bald baby in a muscle suit.” He was raring to sock this guy right where it hurt and it showed in how tense his body was, but he didn’t make any move to act on it. The next words caught him off guard though. “What opinion of me? Cos I haven’t heard much if anything ‘bout you.”

“I’m only warming you up.” 

He laughed, letting his jumping jacks turn him in circles as he did. “Right right, warming me up.”

Gogo looked up when someone came in with flowers? That was curious, she should be use to odd things happening around the carnival by now. “I don’t know, I might” Gogo shrugged. “That’s what I usually do in my spare time” She continued, completely monotone. “Go and smash random pots of flowers” Gogo looked back to her drawing. “It gives me this rush of adrenaline, like smash a potted plant over your head and you can take over the world” She smirked a little to herself as she blew a bubble with her gum. Cabin fever was really getting to her head. 

He bristled, and immediately picked up the pots again, protectively. “Oi, you best be joking. Otherwise I’m taking these right back to my room.” Not that it would make a difference to her, but he wasn’t about to leave his precious plants in danger.

“What? You’re tellin’ me you don’ like disco?” Reuben froze, completely still without wobbling at all, and looked him square in the face. “No. No. Nuh huh.” 

Awh hell, he was going to the musical based on ABBA songs. Why’d he bring up disco when he should’ve just left it? “Hey, who says I’m not young and sweet?” he protested, rubbing his forehead. “I mean-- I never said I didn’t like disco.” The other was drunk, it wasn’t like he’d remember this in the morning, so he gave in.