#*takeshi

Wanda watched him, her expression softening as he spoke. He was the first person who had been in Westview that had approached her, the first to tell her that her way of making a normal life for herself had helped him in some way or another. Though she didn’t know the man or his story, part of her was thankful for his honesty.

“What’s your name?” She asked, taking a sip from her own cup. “I… You don’t need to thank me for anything. I didn’t mean to trap a town like I did. It wasn’t fair of me to do, even if it did help you. But, I’m glad that… you felt like it was helpful…”

“Happy accidents-- that’s the term, right?” He clears his throat. “Let’s hope that’s the only time the accident’s that intense, though.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up slightly in disbelief, but Takeshi shakes the rueful expression away before lifting his head to meet Wanda Maximoff’s eye. Part of him expected to be shooed away, but he’s not going to argue the kindness currently shoved his way.

Maybe they could both use a bit of it.

Ramón paused slightly as he tried to figure out what he had meant before realizing that he must have gotten lost in thought.

“Mierda,” he muttered under his breath and ran an exhausted hand down his face, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at the man, clearly humiliated for making someone feel unsafe. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized I was staring at anyone. I must have zoned out.”

Ray’s lifted one of the many papers strewn out in front of himself and smiled apologetically.

“Working on a case,” he explained.

“...right.”

It’s an answer, at least. Still, it doesn’t stop Takeshi from staying leaned on the counter, the intimidating furrow of his brows turning into a slightly less aggressive raise of the left.

He’s never seen this guy in his life. (Probably.) He can think of at least two things worth investigating, one of those things especially more grave than the other. (Definitely.)

So he asks, “You actually plan on booking a room here, or did you think this was a Starbucks?”

“What?” Jeez. “That... yeah.” Takeshi grumbles, securing the last bit of rope around the peg slammed heavily into the ground. “Figured that was the plan.”

He shouldn’t be so surprised the tiny blond said “we”.

It’s not like Takeshi’s allergic to being in close quarters with someone. But this isn’t some deep cave with a million miles to explore-- it’s a hollowed out rock that allows just enough protection from the elements if you hang a sheet in front of it, which is exactly what Takeshi’s done already. It’s next to no fucking space. It’s “we’ve got enough room for a tiny fire, but you and I are gonna either be touching shoulders or touching thighs”. It’s... man, it’s stupid, and when he ducked to find shelter, he didn’t think there’d be some other guy there already.

This is why he hates leaving home. This is why he didn’t want to go into the city. Much as the meteorologists do their best to predict what’s coming, living on the seventh moon of a planet (that, really, is only a hair’s breadth to being caught in a nearby planet’s gravitational pull) makes the stupid weather so god damn unpredictable. Takeshi knows by heart how to get from his little town to the city area just fine; he just never knows if it’s gonna be a clear day or if it’s gonna pour like crazy.

Tonight, it’s begun pouring like crazy, and it isn’t safe for Takeshi to trek up the mountain to get back home.

Now he has to ask his sister to spend the night with their mother (man) and spend the next few? Hours? With a shortie that talks with the same level of calm as the late night radio guy (man, man).

With the sheet shielding them secure, Takeshi grumbles, dropping onto his ass and leaning back against the rock. He’s dripping from head to toe, but the ground beneath them isn’t as muddy as the ground outside is, at least.

“That’s the best I can do,” he says, removing the pack on his back and setting it between his thighs. “I’ve got enough wood for a three hour fire, food, water, and a blanket.”

Takeshi turns to regard his companion. “You?”

There’s a person walking out there. An idiot, sure, but Takeshi’s only a little bit smarter because at least he has a truck to sit in.

(A truck that’s stuck in mud, but still.)

Though he doesn’t look forward to the concept of being in his truck with someone sopping wet and messing up his leather (sigh), the sight of them illuminated by lightning in the sky is enough to pull at what sympathy he’s got. It’ll be all right, probably. Good deeds are their own reward, or something like that.

Takeshi turns the keys in ignition enough to be able to flick the truck’s headlights on. He honks the horn (only a fraction of the way, so it isn’t screaming), rolls his window down, and then sticks his head out in the rain.

“...yeah, because I’m pretty sure the dog can’t fucking fly.”

As it is, though, Takeshi puts his hands on his hips and looks up-- like, way up-- at the top of the tree. His nose crinkles, his back arching to help him see, and though something pops in his spine, he pays it no mind.

“What the hell did... you got the arms of a demigod or something?”

He turns, squinting Luke’s way. The all-black getup doesn’t make him look especially beefy.

“How’d it get that high?”

“I didn’t--” Fucking ask, Takeshi stops himself from saying. Chances are the lawyer guy (Ramón, if Ally’s to be believed, but it’s not like Takeshi can call him by first name like he knows him) could see the concern on his face; it’s not like he’s ever been especially good at hiding that sort of thing.

“...right.”

Shit. Ah, shit. You sound like you doubt him.

“Sorry. It’s just-- the shape’s crazy specific,” he says, making some vague gesture to the purpling flesh below the other man’s eye, “for an I-walked-into-a-wall bruise.”

Not that it’s any of your fucking business, you gorilla.

“You’re not askin’ just so you can yoink it when I put it on, are you?”

In front of him, Dev the golden retriever sniffs at a flower and sneezes. Takeshi is sniffling too, but this is less because of pollen and more because it’s a balls bustin’ chilly kinda day.

Maybe he really should have taken the time to grab a jacket, but his schedules are tight for a reason. Dev takes walks at six in the morning, no exceptions, and this is Takeshi’s fault for waking up later than he should have for it.