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]

Well, at least one of them didn't really spare any thoughts for whether she should say things or not?

"I just don't understand where that came from," Harley complained. "All I was tryin' to do was see if you wanted to stop somewhere to finish whatcha started back on the island! And I would call that more of a selfish thing on my part, so I just don't, I don't get it."

Big breath, and...

"I'm workin' real hard on not getting trampled again, you know."

[hasaknightjob]

"It didn't come from anywhere," Marc said. He gestured to his head. "Sometimes shit's just in there. I thought it, I said it. I dunno. Maybe it was because you were being yourself and I didn't want you to think you ever had to stop."

[totalwildcard]

Well, that shut her up.

"Oh."

Apart from that.

It likely wouldn't last very long, she just needed to... chew on it.

[hasaknightjob]

"I'm trying to... " Marc made a vague gesture. "Not do what I've done before. I suck at it. I know. Lucky you, you're getting me when I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I'm sorry."

[totalwildcard]

Harley was quiet for a few more beats as she took that in.

"Sometimes that's better than acting like you do know when you don't," she offered, finally.

[hasaknightjob]

"How do you mean?" Marc asked.

[totalwildcard]

"Like a lotta people are going around faking it 'til they make it."

Weird how fixed her attention on the road her eyes had become, huh? It was definitely not for safety concerns.

"And sometimes it'd be much better to just... be honest. About not knowing what the fuck you're s'posed to be doing. Put ego aside and let it show."

[hasaknightjob]

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing," Marc said. Yes, he was repeating himself. But in this case it was to agree with her. He looked at Harley even though she wasn't looking at him. "I'm really good at hurting people. I don't want to hurt you. I'm still figuring out how to do that. Not do that."

Marc gave a wry look to indicate see? Even that wording he couldn't get right on the first go.

[totalwildcard]

Harley saw it, sort of, out of the corner or her eye.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, either," she muttered. "It's not that serious."

Because none of this was. Right?

[hasaknightjob]

"Have you met me?" Marc asked. "Serious is all I know how to do."

Joking. Or trying to.

[totalwildcard]

"'S not true," Harley retorted.

A little on the soft side.

[hasaknightjob]

"One of us knows to have fun better than the other," Marc said. "And it ain't me."

[totalwildcard]

"Maybe." Definitely. "You're still fun sometimes, though."

Right, she should pull herself together.

Really put her back into a little headtilt and saying, "Maybe not right now..." Like a hilarious tease. (Shut up, she was trying, it was going around.)

[hasaknightjob]

"Balances out with the times I'm fucking hilarious?" Marc said.

Again, trying.

[totalwildcard]

He was rewarded with a snort, at least? Even if it was a weak one.

"Yeah, exactly."

[hasaknightjob]

"So worst compliment you've ever gotten or what?" Marc asked.

[totalwildcard]

"Huh?"

Harley finally looked over at him again, eyebrows up a little.

"Oh, you have no idea about the kinds of things people have told me as compliments before. Trust me, sweetie, you don't rate."

[hasaknightjob]

"Not sure if that's comforting or not," Marc admitted. He turned his focus to looking out the window, in theory trying to spot if there was a place for them to eat.

[totalwildcard]

"It's not," Harley replied, all too brightly.

They were just passing a roadside McDonald's. No, thank you.

[hasaknightjob]

Anything that was a franchise did not count for tonight's meal. Especially when the goal was an actual diner.

Marc looked back over to her. He studied her expression, then shook his head and stayed quiet.

[totalwildcard]

"I'm a woman, and I used to dress extra hot," Harley said, in response to the look (without ever looking back at it). "It's a great way to get all kinds of gross compliments."

Well, 'compliments'.

"So trust me, you floundering around 'cause you're outta your depth isn't really anything."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc studied her again. "If you're trying to dress ugly you're really failing on that one."

[totalwildcard]

"Oh, I didn't say that," Harley replied easily. "Just, a lotta guys have a really narrow idea of what sexy looks like."

She shrugged.

"And I've stopped adhering to that 'less I feel like it."

Was that a hint of smugness? Her mood must've been picking up.

[hasaknightjob]

"Their loss," Marc said. "But if they're making douchebag comments guessing it was never theirs to gain anyway."

[totalwildcard]

Harley confirmed his assumption with a shake of her head.

"Multiple reasons why, really."

One of them had tattoos all over her body.

"Anyway, that's in the past. I'll take other compliments now."