Causeway Parking Lot to the Mainland; Later Tuesday Afternoon

[totalwildcard]

It might not have ultimately been too much of a surprise which car in the parking lot was Harley's current ride. At least if you happened to know the Chevy Impala was Dean's provided it was even present on Tuesday. The funky 1970s green Chevy Chevelle sedan (four doors, see what she'd said about the back seat?) was of course Harley's: a classic look, but not so flashy as to attract too much attention and immediately get her in trouble as soon as she'd grabbed it from where the very unfortunate previous owner had left it.

Although the main hint that it was hers was still probably that she'd parked her butt on the hood of the thing as she waited for Marc to get there.

Call it a freebie.

(for that guy, continued from here!

Comments

[totalwildcard]

"This not workin' for ya? Too much talk?"

Clearly he'd picked poorly if that was an issue.

[hasaknightjob]

"People," Marc said. He got more salsa on his next chip. "You're not people."

[totalwildcard]

Harley gave a little huff.

"Then what am I?"

[hasaknightjob]

"You're Harley," Marc said, as though that should be obvious. Though perhaps not realizing it might be not be because he kept referring to Harley being herself as a compliment and not an annoyance.

[totalwildcard]

"I'm a Harley?" Harley asked, adding that indefinite article in there without even realizing he hadn't used one. "Boy, you're fantastic at describing things!"

Another chip? Another chip, going in her mouth with some sour cream and guac.

[hasaknightjob]

"Unique," Marc said, pointing at her with an as yet undressed hip. "Not like most people. You I give a shit about."

[totalwildcard]

"You do?"

It wasn't news.

Harley was probably going to keep reacting to it as if it was, until it actually stuck, though.

[hasaknightjob]

It matched how Marc kept not fully registering any deeper implications about it, so that kind of worked out.

"Yeah," Marc said. He scooped up some guac for himself now. "Think I give a shit about a lot of other people's opinions?"

[totalwildcard]

"I don't even know how much of a shit you give about mine," Harley felt compelled to reply. "Outside of where to pull up for food, and givin' a shit about that is just good practice that makes sense because I've got great taste."

[hasaknightjob]

"Huh," Marc said. It was a weird moment where him thinking he'd made that clear meant he didn't stop himself from saying it now.

(Marc so rarely made things clear. Perhaps most especially when he thought he had.)

"I do. About you. Yours. It matters to me."

[totalwildcard]

"Hunh," Harley said after a beat, her head tilted quizzically again.

And before she could stop herself: "But why?"

[hasaknightjob]

"I dunno," Marc said, still in a weird groove where he was just saying stuff. Maybe it helped that he was focused on trying to get as much on his chip without breaking it? "I do. I don't like when you're hurt and I like when you're happy."

[totalwildcard]

"Hunh," Harley said.

Again.

She looked from him to the chips, to him, and then to the chips again, and she didn't know what to do with that (him, not the chips), so she just... wasn't going to. Do anything.

So: "Oh you're really testing the structural integrity of that chip, huh?"

(It came out kind of stilted. She'd get it right in a second, it was fine!)

[hasaknightjob]

Look, that was a lot of candor that slipped out without Marc being aware of it. Focusing on the chips right now was fine.

"I'm living on the edge," he said.

Reasonably certain he was referring to the chip. At least mostly. Possibly his life in general. Nothing else.

[totalwildcard]

"I'm gonna laugh if it breaks all over you."

Now, that sounded more natural. And sincere!

[hasaknightjob]

"It's fine," Marc said, with the confidence of someone who was trying to get way too many beans on that chip at the moment.

[totalwildcard]

"Is it?" Harley retorted, with the mirth of a person who'd definitely done that unsuccessfully before.

[hasaknightjob]

"It's not gonna fall on me," Marc told her, with confidence.

A confidence which was not entirely misplaced given that the chip snapped before he could lift it, leaving him with a mere sliver completely bare of any nacho deliciousness.

[totalwildcard]

And Harley laughed so hard she almost sounded like she choked.

Because she was nice like that.

[hasaknightjob]

"Yeah, yeah," Marc said. He did his best to fish the broken chip out, getting guac on his fingers in the process. "Have your fun."

[totalwildcard]

"Oh I am," Harley assured him, practically still wheezing, "because that was hilarious!"

She was also showing off her skills in not breaking chips by scooping some salsa onto one.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc absentmindedly licked the guac from his fingertips. "If you choke I'm not gonna save you."

That was not remotely said seriously.

[totalwildcard]

"Bullshiiit," Harley sing-songed, if a little distractedly.

Because of course she watched his hand when he did that.

[hasaknightjob]

"Fine," Marc said. "But there's gonna be a 'told you so'."

Marc followed that up by taking a chip with jalapeño from her side of the plate.

[totalwildcard]

Harley swatted at his hand, but in a way that was suspiciously ineffective. Like maybe it was just an excuse to touch him.

Certainly didn't actually interfere with what he was doing.

"Well, I don't plan on choking, so I'm not gonna find out!"