beam me up, scotty!

While generally a ride operator, with the Independence Day thing and people calling out, sick or otherwise, Maisie had acquiesced and picked up the additional shift to cover. The idea of having to work another full shift right before their own actual shift isn't something they are too pleased about, but at the end of the day, money is money.

The upside is that the game they're minding isn't really well visited right now, even with or maybe because of the whole special thing happening right now, so they'd pulled out their GameBoy to play a game of their own when a familiar voice cuts through into their auditory receptors. Looking up from the small screen, Maisie furrows their brows in confusion as their eyes land on the cup held out to them, then up at their uncle, slowly taking the offered item.

"No you fuckin' didn't," Maisie argues, looking down at and inspecting the cup now in their hand. Turning off and pocketing the GameBoy, Maisie pushes off the side of the game booth to stand straighter—not that it did anything for their height—and takes a sip of the drink. The immediate hit of ulta-sweet hits both their nose and their taste buds simultaneously like a truck, the taste of it sticking to the back of their throat and the inside of their nose like a thick layer. "Fuckin' hell, man."

While trying to process the assault on their senses, Maisie wipes their mouth quickly, clearing their throat. "I dunno, dude, some cunt called out so I gotta cover a shift, got my own coming up in..." They pull their arm up to check their watch. "Like thirty minutes."

They shrug. "If he really wants me to watch it with you, you can hang out while I 'work'. Doubt anyone's gonna come by while the fireworks are goin' anyway. The fuck you here for anyway? Doesn't feel like your speed."

❝ no i feckin' didn't, ❞ lindsay agrees flatly. whether it had been a misjudgment of expectations or a lapse in judgment or maybe even an aneurysm, lindsay had, as a matter of fact, originally purchased the lemonade for himself. maybe he'd been hoping that the neon shade of the drink suggested a more tropical flavor profile, something that might remind him of home. ( because it isn't elderslie, is it? it never really has been. if they stay here much longer, lindsay suspects intercept might force the title, but ladyville has always been home to him. ) it tasted wretched, actually, both sweet and sour in a way that lingered in all the wrong places on his palate and made him yearn for real fruit. ❝ but ye can have it anyway. ❞

maisie's reaction is remarkably similar to his own when they take a swig. doesn't matter. he's not taking the cup back.

❝ christ alive, they've got ye here all day? ❞ if nothing else, it's a testament to an admirable work ethic that they'd picked up the extra shift. lindsay isn't entirely sure everything they'd gotten up to when they fucked off out of new mexico, but he's glad to see maisie hasn't lost that in the process. it'll get them far in life if they manage to maintain it. ❝ swear i see ye damn near as much now as i did before ye came back to intercept, kid. ye savin' up for a place of yer own then? ❞

he doesn't mean to, but lindsay can't help the snort that escapes him at maisie's suggestion. it's an undignified sound, not quite a laugh, but he's swallowed the rest of it down by the time he turns his gaze back to his nibling. ❝ oh, hang out at the ride yer stationed at and watch the fireworks from the feckin' tilt-a-whirl, was it? ❞ he shakes his head. ❝ santi will hear nothing of it and ye know it. he's been here for hours, found a table for the family and locked it down. yer tellin' me ye dinnae get a single break? ye couldn't spend ten minutes watching a couple of amateurs set of explosions with yer family? ❞

lindsay narrows his gaze then, fishing for his wallet with the expression of a man who's just been challenged. he doesn't even know which game it is they're manning, but he pulls a five dollar bill out of his wallet and puts it on the counter in front of them. ❝ what d'ye know about my ❛ speed ❜ anyway? maybe i've been looking forward to this, hm? heard about it on the radio. ❞

one of the best things santiago can honestly say about being with his partner, is how well they work together. it is relieving to wake up that morning and know that he didn't have to worry about half the things that needed to get done because linds already had it handled. all he needed to do was finish making all the tortillas and pack the food, cooler, get ready and head out to astroland to get their spot picked out. it didn't even need to be fully set up until later.

what he didn't tell his husband is that he was trying out a new look for the day, complete with wranglers, a belt buckle, boots, and a cowboy hat. this was something he got to surprise him with as he raised from the picnic bench where he'd kicked up to read the book he brought, ( guns, germs, and steel because it seemed fitting for the theme and he hadn't been able to sit down and read it yet ).

"hola, mi amor or should i say howdy?" santi chuckled and removed the hat to greet him, arms slightly opening for an embrace. "do you think it's too much? i figured going partial vaqueras was fitting." and yes, santi did think it didn't look half bad when he left the house that morning but now isn't so sure. "maybe you should wear the hat, mi amor. you're going to become a lobster in this sun." he teased, though there was a moment of worry wondering if his husband had put sunscreen on that morning.

if his ear had not become so inherently attuned to the sound of his partner's voice that he might be able to pick it out in even the most cacophonous of crowds, lindsay thinks he would have very easily missed santiago as he scanned the picnic tables in search of him. in his defense, however, he wasn't aware he was meant to be looking for a cowboy costume. a dozen different micro-expressions flash through his gaze the moment it lands on santi―surprise, confusion, amusement among them―but despite his best efforts, he can't bite back a smile.

❝ is this why ye told me t'go fetch all your siblings? so we didn't ride together? ❞ in spite of the laughter lilting through his words, lindsay doesn't hesitate to find his husband's embrace, his own arms lifting to wrap around him and squeeze tight as their foreheads bump briefly. ❝ you're a ridiculous man, ❞ lindsay says, the words both a promise and a tease in equal part, ❝ and this is a ridiculous hat, but if anybody could make it look good, i suspect ye'd be the one, hm? ❞

❝ no? ❞ jay chuckles, brows lifting in surprise as he glances up from the menu toward his brother. even if he hadn't planned on going to the big fireworks show at the park, he had to have heard of it―at least enough for it to cross his mind. astroland had plastered advertisements everywhere they could. ❝ what, did you miss the dozens of fliers and radio ads and the full splash page in the interceptor? ❞ a shrug lifts at his shoulders as he leans back against the booth seat. ❝ just a thought. frankie's going to be there, and i was going to try to go with him but― ❞ but he can't remember the last time he had a night off, ❝ ―i think he could use the company. told me to tell you he'd buy you snacks if you do show, payment for saving him from his family you could think of it like a public service. ❞

❝ and anyway, you think dom's gonna close the bar on one of the busiest nights of the year? everyone in town's going to be going there for a drink to escape all the holiday tourists. ❞ for exactly half a second, his brother's idea to veer from the norm almost inspires him to take another look at the menu, but he's just as quick to drop it back to the table's edge. not tonight. ❝ you should, yeah, ❞ he says as though he hadn't just dismissed the idea for himself. just because he's starting to settle roots in his routines doesn't mean gabe has to be the same. he shouldn't be. ❝ it'll probably be good. ❞

She's been eyeing him from a bench of a while now, while pretending to read the Interceptor. Despite the influx of children running around, yelling and screaming as children seem wont to do—was she like this as a child too? She can't imagine—Lucy has managed to keep track of Jaime Osorio for the past hour as he moves through the park. She doesn't know if he's working or not, and frankly, she doesn't quite care either. This is much more important, more important than an Astroland shift.

Getting up as he moves once more, and a large group threatens to cut off the path she'd need to take to follow him and keep track of him, Lucy hurries after him, slipping through the crowd as though her body is a liquid. "Oye, espera!" she calls, quickly finding her way to his side. Pushing her sunglasses up into her hair, Lucy eyes the older man for a moment, regarding him with slightly narrowed eyes that could easily be mistaken for compensation against the harsh New Mexican sun pounding down upon the park.

"Jaime Osorio, yes?" It's a formality, really, not a real need for confirmation. She knows who he is. She's read his name over and over again in old papers and documents. Or rather, his brother's. "Do you have a moment to talk? Lucy. Muñoz."

it's not the spanish that gets him to stop. there are probably very few places in the united states where you'd find more fluent speakers than new mexico, and a phrase in his first language is rarely enough to get him to turn his head―unless, of course, it sounds distressed. he is working, after all, and the safety and security of the guests is his top ( only, it's his only ) priority. but this voice doesn't sound distressed, not really. at least, not in a way that might constitute an emergency on his part. he's heard people calling out for his attention because they can't find their child or they're having a medical crisis, or if they're trying to call him toward a fight. this isn't any of this, so jay doesn't plan to stop.

and then she says his name.

jay freezes in his tracks. she used his full name. his first thought is that she must work for the park, upper management. but what would she want to do with him? he's just a security guard. fuck, is he about to get canned because he let that guy come through with all his own food earlier? but she doesn't look like park management, and she's not wearing a badge. he narrows his gaze behind a pair of dark lenses as he turns to better face her.

❝ have we met? ❞ jay asks, studying her face in an attempt to find an answer and coming up short. ❝ actually, better question―is this important? and if it is, can you walk and talk? i'm working, so. ❞

" yeah, i'm gonna drive them back home for dinner after i'm done and then we'll come back. all of us. " the last of it is paired with a heavy sigh, usually is, whenever the rest of his family is mentioned. " even wayne's kids came to visit. and get this. you remember terri? eldest, going to med school? she brought her boyfriend and i'm dead sure he's gonna propose to her tonight. wayne's been all weird, i think that's why. " still―he could be wrong because it's not like wayne would tell him any of it. if the kid came to his brother to ask for permission, frankie would be the last to know. it's always been like this and it's unlikely to change, ever. that ship has sailed.

" seriously? thought you'd come with us. " it would make having to be around his family a lot less miserable, having jay here with him. a welcome distraction from the terrell clan. if not jay―gabe then. " tell him to find me later. haven't hung out with him in a while, would be cool. bribe him with free food or something, i'll pay. " frankie can tell why jay mentions his brother and so he just runs with it. but he's not lying―it's been a while. it'll be good to catch up. " how's he doing these days? "

" i'll come by. but just for one. you got me so wasted on dom's specials last time, i had to cancel my morning clients. thought i was gonna die. " frankie's not even exaggerating. he doesn't drink all that much anymore so when he does, it almost always ends in a hangover of the century. " when are you gonna get a nigh off, though? i feel like all we do is hang out at wolf's lately. "

❝ relax, it was mostly swallowed. ❞ jay reaches for a can of coke on the table and swishes back a mouthful of lukewarm, syrupy carbonation before opening his mouth as if to prove his point. ❝ see? you're in the presence of a very skilled multitasker, frankie. have a little respect. ❞ the words are punctuated with a grin that says he doesn't mean a lick of them as he snatches the napkin from the air and drags it over the lower half of his face. ❝ i can stick close to the midway 'til you're done with rounds, ❞ he offers. it's probably where he'd be lingering anyway. ❝ seems to be where the crowds are gathering, at least 'til the sun goes down. ❞

❝ smart, ❞ jay adds when frankie mentions he's taking the kids back home for dinner. it's cheaper to feed a family outside the park, especially with the way prices have been rising just to keep concessions operational. he almost mentions the man he'd been called to the front gates earlier about―he'd brought enough food to feed his entire family plus some, and though jay probably should've refused on park policy, he was easily bribed with the promise of a to-go plate he could bring to wolfe's later―but then his best friend is diving into a full discourse on family holiday drama, and jay instantly snaps to attention instead. ❝ damn, even wayne's kids? they really brought out the whole damn family, huh? for this? ❞

jay lets out a low whistle and shakes his head, hooking his feet around the legs of the table so he can lean back into a spine-cracking stretch. ❝ you think he's going to propose to her here in the park? ❞ the ❛ gross ❜ he wants to add goes unspoken, but he's sure frankie can hear it anyway. ❝ you know, every time you tell me something new about these people, it just proves what i'm always thinking. ❞ he lowers his voice then, leaning in a bit so jade and johnny don't overhear. ❝ you're better than all of 'em. you deserve better, too. ❞ it was a relief when frankie moved out of his parents' home. it was good for him, jay thinks. hell, he'd try and encourage him to go even farther if he didn't know it meant suggesting he leave again. and jay―well, there's no shot he'd try to encourage best friend to go. ❝ patience of a fucking saint, frankie terrell. i don't know how you do it.❞

to jay's credit, it's not like he actually wanted to work tonight. he'd planned to clock out after his shift, meet gabe for dinner and convince him to come back to the park for fireworks―or at least out for a couple of drinks he didn't have to down behind the bar. ❝ i wasn't planning on going in tonight, but dom was desperate enough to call up the park office trying to get ahold of me. both assholes scheduled to bartend tonight are suddenly ❛ too sick to work ❜ and i couldn't say no. maybe i'm hoping the holiday will make the regulars a little more generous with their tips, make it worth my while. ❞

probably not, but would it kill him to try for a little optimism every now and then?

His brow quirks upwards as Judah displays a hand wrapped in what seemed like had to be an absurd about of gauze. "How do you fuck up your hand on a dunk tank?" he questioned with a snort. "Actually, I take it back. I've seen the look of some shit around here, it's entirely feasible. Hope you're up on your tetanus shots."

His expression shows his distaste at the blue watered down whatever the fuck in the cup Judah extends. He'd much prefer the contents of the flask. "Alright, now I gotta hear it. They've got you on the dunk tank and drinking whatever the fuck that shit is? You lose your brain somewhere along the way? Have they officially converted you?"

❝ yeah, alright, you fuckin' sourpuss. point taken. ❞ there's a smirk playing at the corners of his lips that suggests judah isn't even remotely fazed by the short answer. and maybe he should be―it is probably his fault javier got called in―but he's been drinking for the better part of the last two hours and it's hard to feel anything other than wholly fucking unbothered. if anyone has anything to say about it, judah doesn't want to hear it. he's injured. he deserves a little booze about it, alright? ❝ 's my bad. no, actually, it's really their bad for havin' such―such shitty shit, but i'll take the blame here. just this once. ❞

the look on judah's face when javier asks the question says he'd rather do anything else but explain his stupid tank slip-up, but fortunately, his friend is quick to come to the truth. it really isn't that far-fetched around here. ❝ damn straight i am. even got my fuckin' boosters and everything. ❞ given the number of mishaps he's had in this shithole ( and at the garage on occasion, usually doing something he shouldn't be ) he's kind of got to. he offers a lewd grin then. ❝ this mouth is too busy for lockjaw, javi. ❞

"the fuck did i do?" jonah immediately shot back to his twin, but there was a smirk on his lips because they both knew exactly why he requested his break be when judah was going to be in the dunk tank. jonah wasn't much of an athlete where throwing balls was concerned but he was an expert at watching ( and helping ) his twin make a fool of himself for entertainment. if he couldn't dunk judah, jonah was going to find anyone and everyone got their shots in. eventually someone was going to drop little fish in that gross looking water and jonah would be laughing the loudest.

once jonah was properly stopped next to his brother and off to the side where most guests couldn't see them well, jonah pulled out a pre-rolled cigarette out of an old altoids tin. he wet his lips and positioned the smoke so it wouldn't stick. normally he just bought his cigarettes from the store like any other person but he hasn't gotten paid yet and didn't have the time to scrounge up change to pick some up before his shift.

❝ don't you walk your ass up here all innocent like you ain't about to try and make my life a living hell the second i get in that damn tank. ❞ judah knows his brother better than that ; hell, he'd argue they've been antagonizing each other since they were in the womb, always bickering and arguing and picking fights that start in words and end in fisticuffs. ( even so, he'd still consider jonah his best friend. there's not a soul on this planet he's closer to, and that's a damn fact. ) he has half a mind to smack the altoids tin out of his brother's hand just as preemptive payback for what he's sure is to come, but he'll probably want one of those cigarettes later―not as much if it's rolled across the ground, though. ❝ gimme a drag of that 'fore i gotta go in there. ❞

without waiting for an answer, judah reaches past the cloud of smoke to snatch the cigarette from between jo's fingers. ❝ yeah, well that's only 'cause you were bein' a dumbass and nobody else was gonna say shit about it, ❞ he points out before taking one, two quick drags and passing it back. ❝ i mean, maybe i could've said no, but then i would've had to hear shit from management for the rest of the day about how i'm ❛ showing a blatant lack of team spirit,❜ as if that's what i signed up for when i said i'd fix all their fuckin' rides. ❞

ah, there it is. daria thankfully was able to get out of doing most of the evening's actual work outside of prep -- having taken the morning shift of her own volition ( how could she possibly say no to getting loaded? ). and yet, her shift isn't quite over yet, hence the tacky lifeguard uniform at the matching towel wrapped around her waist.

if judah wanted to argue semantics with her right now, he wouldn't have a leg to stand on. he knows that. daria is right―he wasn't actually in the water, he's just looking for a reason to bitch and she happened to be the nearest target.❝ yeah, yeah, ❞ he offers instead, waving off her words rather than come up with any sort of real retort. he's busy, alright? time's a-tickin', and he doesn't have long before he's supposed to be at that damn dunk tank. ❝ and you still got a job. sometimes it just feels good to talk a little shit. you gonna tell me i'm wrong? ❞

"Nope," He playfully let the p pop. "But I had to try it for science. And for sales. And because I was thirsty." He grinned a slightly blue stained smile. "It is blue raspberry!" Mingyu then happily announced, practically bouncing on his feet as he snagged a large cup off the stack to fill up. "This will be perfect, you can have the blue tongue and it will help me sell more of these, because you will be the proof that aliens really do have blue tongues!" It was all coming together. "So are you secretly hoping one of the rides decides to break down in a minute? It's okay, I won't tell anyone."

❝ you really think management's paying a lick of attention to us right now? ❞ judah snorts, shaking his head. the only reason he even saw any of his bosses today is because they wanted him to work the damn tank ; they're all too busy scrambling to make sure this whole event doesn't go ass up to micromanage. ❝ folks are packed like fuckin' sardines in here today, so long as you're standing where they tell you to, ain't shit they're gonna do. 'sides, who'd hook me up with my icee fix if you got fired? nah. ❞

brows lift at the confession, surprise coloring judah's features. ❝ you wanted to volunteer, huh? well shit, why didn't you? could've taken my spot, pretty sure jonah's rallying an entire fuckin' baseball team right now to make sure i get dunked. ❞ not that judah actually minds. it's hot as hell, and he doesn't mind getting paid to antagonize the guests and go for the occasional swim for a few hours. he grins. ❝ they put us both in the tank last year and all hell broke loose. to be honest, kinda surprised they asked me again―figured i lost the privilege. ❞

the ride tech leans against the stand's sticky counter, watching as mingyu flutters around behind it with all the enthusiasm of a caffeinated hummingbird. he can't help but wonder how much of it is genuine and how much of it is put on for the customers. is he always this cheerful? seems fuckin' exhausting. judah could never.

❝ hate to disappoint you, man, but i don't know how much of my tongue anyone's gonna see behind that mask i gotta wear. damn thing's gonna cover my whole face. ❞ he's lucky it's not his whole head―he vetoed the first one they tried to get him to wear. ❝ you'd think for all i'm complaining, but in some sick way, i think i almost prefer this. that crazy? i mean, i don't mind fixing the rides, but it's a hell of a lot nicer when i don't got a line of angry, sunburnt guests bitchin' at me while i do it. ❞

"don't you think about coming near me unless you're coming back from them emts judah fisher!" dixie scolded him when she saw him approaching. "i ain't fixin' to get some disease during this lame ass fireworks show, i'll watch it with someone else don't even play around right now!" truth be told, she'd been waiting for him in particular the last twenty minutes because she wanted to go climb up on the ufo statue with him and get cozy for the fireworks. however, that didn't mean she was going to let him walk around with some infected gash on his finger.

ew.

does judah think that he needs to go see an emt about his hand? no, not really. it looks worse than it is, and it's only because he's literally just gotten out of the tank and he's soaking wet. if he dries off, he probably seal his hand back up with some liquid bandage and call it a day. but dixie insists, so he does. he's also smart enough not to mention that even if his hand did get infected, it's not the kind of infection she'd be able to catch just by watching fireworks with him. she knows that. he just turns on his heels and pivots toward first aid instead, leaving a trail of water dripping behind him as he weaves through guests.

and maybe there are benefits to listening, because after ellie looked at his bad hand and he filled out an incident report with his good one, the big boss told him he could have the rest of the day off. he's not sure he's ever been happier for ❛ park policy. ❜

❝ what, you ain't gonna kiss it better for me? ❞ judah feigns a pout as he extends his hand―now bandaged―to be met with a simple ❛ good ❜ by dixie. ❝ that hurts, hon. hell, probably gonna get infected and fall off now. i'm gonna have to steal one from big fish, then what's he gonna do? ❞ he drops the act when his gaze falls on her flask, pout transforming into a smirk as he reaches out for her wrist with his free hand to tug her closer to his side so he can toss an arm over her shoulder. ❝ you and me both―and i get the feeling i'm gonna need it if you're about to be out here making me climb that damn tower one-handed. ❞

he would do it, though, not least of all because it's her that's asking.

LOCATION: wolfe's den, late night FOR: jay osorio

BETWEEN THE TWO JOBS that daria worked to pay her bills to keep the lights on ( it was far from luxury, but it was home ) -- rarely ever did she find herself having a night off, especially on the weekend. most of the time, club enigma was off the chain on a friday night -- but daria wouldn't be caught dead drinking from the very supply she served unless her friends were absolutely insistent on going there. plus, oogling the handsome bartender while nursing a guinness sounded like a plenty enjoyable evening. she'd been dancing with a friend near the nearby jukebox, catching her breath at the bar with a delighted, yet winded expression.

❝ hm? ❞ it's not that jay has been trying not to pay attention to his customers, but it's difficult to keep himself from drifting into autopilot automatically on nights like these. even if he weren't already tired from working a full first shift at astroland on what was arguably the busiest day that the park has seen in years―and christ, he is exhausted, tired doesn't even begin to do justice to the way his body is screaming at him just to sit for a fucking second―it would've hit him like a brick wall anyway the second he showed up at wolfe's den to discover that damn near every local over the age of twenty-one had decided the dive bar was the spot to escape tourism on the holiday.

jay knew as soon as he walked through the door that it was gonna be a long night. and he wasn't wrong.