Garrett Uley.
“Y’got a long way to go before your word means shit to me.” Garrett leaned closer, forearms on the table. “Gimme a location. And if you know what’s good for you, it better check out.”
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@koltblood
Garrett Uley.
“Y’got a long way to go before your word means shit to me.” Garrett leaned closer, forearms on the table. “Gimme a location. And if you know what’s good for you, it better check out.”

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Garrett Uley.
“Then what use are you?”
“Practical.”
“I know their protocol. I know how their systems work. I know how their weapons work. I know the patrol network. I know places that are fronts for small bases of operations, and I know a handful of intelligence agents.” Kolton watched Garrett carefully, trying to gauge whether the older man was likely to give any ground. “I can help. Just give me a chance to prove it.”
Garrett Uley.
“Y’know what they’re after now?”
“Beyond the grand scheme, no.”
Garrett Uley.
“Convenient.”
“It’s the truth. I don’t even know if there was another Killjoy.”
Garrett Uley.
“The bombings. Right.”
“You said there were others. Who were they?”
“I don’t know.”
“The high risk informants are top secret. No one besides their supervisors and the higher ups knows who they are. We never even saw each other.”

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Garrett Uley.
“You were intelligence?”
“Years ago, yeah. After the bombings I went into patrol work, in case my cover was blown, only assisting the Intelligence Department occasionally. A while after that Rowan and I were assigned to each other. You know the rest.”
Garrett Uley.
For an hour or two, Garrett had been out back, working up the will to do what he had to do — because with Rowan gone helping Carina at the encampment, he wasn’t sure he had it in him to be civil.
The door closed behind him with a click. He stopped in the doorway, eyes landing on Kolton, sat at the kitchen table watching him back with a blank expression.
“Think it’s about time you and I had a chat. And I’m not interested in some bullshit, so keep it straight, or I’m gonna have to do something that Ro won’t like — and I’d rather not.”
“No bullshit,” Kolton agreed, watching the ex-Killjoy approach and sit opposite him. He’d been waiting for this. Hoped it would ease some of the tension. Knew it wouldn’t. Bad enough had he been a stranger, but building up trust after years of deceit was a whole other problem, and one there was no other way to tackle but one day at a time.
Rowan Greane.
“Okay. Good. I’m gonna come back for mine once I’m a little toastier.” Rowan picked up plate as she stood, bringing it back to the counter for when she was ready to finish it, then began searching through drawers again for a deck of cards. She didn’t find them in the kitchen, heading into the living room to see they’d already been on a small table next to a chair in the living room.
“Alright. Time for me to kick your ass in… go fish?”
A short walk to the living room, and Kolton placed his things on the coffee table, plucked the joint free, and dropped into the couch, lying limp for a moment before straightening.
“Let’s do it.”
Rowan Greane.
“Whoops. I’m hogging it.” Rowan smiled, taking one more hit before handing it back. “C’mon. Let’s go sit in the living room. I’ll clean this up and grab some cards. We can smoke the rest of this bag and forget how to play every game anyway.”
“Okay, but—” Kolton stood, perching the joint between his lips, the thing muffling his speech as he picked up his plate and the one of his glasses that had liquor in it, “I’m bring m’pasta.”
Rowan Greane.
“I know.”
“Still! I’m glad. Any other requests?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing besides ‘give it back.’”

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Rowan Greane.
“You should!”
“It was your words.” Her smile softened, “Are you feeling any better?”
“I wasn’t feeling bad.”
“But… yeah.”
Rowan Greane.
“I dunno. That made me really happy.” She sat back down and bounced her shoulders before finally taking the joint to hit it.
“Might be the weed, but… I’m gonna take credit.”
Rowan Greane.
Rowan stood up suddenly, bending to wrap her arms around Kolton in a hug.
“Oh—” Rowan’s arms enveloped him, and he could smell her hair, his hands lifting to squeeze her back before she pulled away.
“What’s that for?”
Rowan Greane.
“You really think so?”
“When it’s you — yeah, I do.”
Rowan Greane.
“I wasn’t.”
“Before…”
“Well, you never know. Could get that back.”

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Rowan Greane.
“They aren’t always all bad, though.”
“Well, that’s assuming I am any good at judging people which… well, I didn’t used to be. I guess I’m more jaded now.” Rowan reached out, a silent request for the joint.
One more hit, and Kolton handed it back, careful not to burn her fingers as he did. His worries were trickling away already — slowly, lessening to be replaced by a thoughtless calm. “Never met anyone who isn’t.”
Rowan Greane.
“Right. Well, I believe you.”
“Definitely more than some rando in a bar.”
“Good. Randos in bars don’t know shit.”