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[push-that-pesticide]

[push-that-pesticide]

1970s PUNK

[push-that-pesticide]

"Too kind, sir, too kind,"

The small fly tattoos on Bugsy's hand buzzed curiously at where Giles' hand met his, before returning to scattering across his knuckles.

"Well, at least I'm still in the right town. You didn't happen to see a shitty-ass beater come through last night, did you? Covered in stickers?"

There was a man passed out in the parking lot of the motel where Giles and Ossie were staying. Some inspecting revealed he was snoring, not dead, but the bug-headed punk was very clearly not planning on getting up anytime soon. Snooooork.... snoooooooork.....

Giles was out for his regular morning walk when he nearly tripped over the man. With a frown he cleared his throat and leant down to gently nudge the man's shoulder

"Excuse me sir"

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"Well," he propped himself up on his elbow, scratching absent-mindedly at his stubble, "I wasn't expecting to be in a parking lot. 'N considering I don't have anywhere else to go, I kinda figured I'd be there."

Bugsy gave Giles another careful once-over.

"I am in a parking lot and not on the front lawn of Buckingham, right? 'M not," he gestured vaguely at his face.

There was a man passed out in the parking lot of the motel where Giles and Ossie were staying. Some inspecting revealed he was snoring, not dead, but the bug-headed punk was very clearly not planning on getting up anytime soon. Snooooork.... snoooooooork.....

Giles was out for his regular morning walk when he nearly tripped over the man. With a frown he cleared his throat and leant down to gently nudge the man's shoulder

"Excuse me sir"

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One of the man's bulging, compound eyes opened, and Giles would've been able to see himself reflected in each segment. He blinked a couple of times, clearly returning back to consciousness, before hoarsely stating-

"I'm not in my car, am I."

There was a man passed out in the parking lot of the motel where Giles and Ossie were staying. Some inspecting revealed he was snoring, not dead, but the bug-headed punk was very clearly not planning on getting up anytime soon. Snooooork.... snoooooooork.....

Giles was out for his regular morning walk when he nearly tripped over the man. With a frown he cleared his throat and leant down to gently nudge the man's shoulder

"Excuse me sir"

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He nodded, "Easier to scavenge when you're only feeding y'self."

He tilted his head, scrutinizing him the hundred sections of his eyes.

"D'ya ever worry about her?"

Dorian's examination of the boot on his van was interrupted by a loud whistle nearby. A familiar human fly, who pulled up next to him. "Nice boot! Need a hand, buddy?"

Dorian’s slumped against the van, giving himself half a moment to be Not Okay before he figures out how to solve today’s problem.

“‘Less it involves figuring out how the fuck I’m eh…how the fuck I’m gonna pay whatever fine they’re gonna-gonna slap me with…dunno what eh…what you can do.”

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"Yeah, well, she's a good kid. 'M happy to help look out for her. It's nice to have a drinking buddy who can keep up, again, too."

He grinned wide and toothy, before leaning up against his car.

"How's the trash zine working out for you?"

Dorian's examination of the boot on his van was interrupted by a loud whistle nearby. A familiar human fly, who pulled up next to him. "Nice boot! Need a hand, buddy?"

Dorian’s slumped against the van, giving himself half a moment to be Not Okay before he figures out how to solve today’s problem.

“‘Less it involves figuring out how the fuck I’m eh…how the fuck I’m gonna pay whatever fine they’re gonna-gonna slap me with…dunno what eh…what you can do.”

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"Yeah, Bugsy. You're Dorian, 'cus Alazarin never shuts up about you," he grinned, clearly teasing.

He put the boot in the back of his car and dusted his hands off.

Dorian's examination of the boot on his van was interrupted by a loud whistle nearby. A familiar human fly, who pulled up next to him. "Nice boot! Need a hand, buddy?"

Dorian’s slumped against the van, giving himself half a moment to be Not Okay before he figures out how to solve today’s problem.

“‘Less it involves figuring out how the fuck I’m eh…how the fuck I’m gonna pay whatever fine they’re gonna-gonna slap me with…dunno what eh…what you can do.”

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He offered Dorian the handle end of the screwdriver, "So you take the boot off again. Besides- they tend not to keep doing it if they keep losing these, these fuckers are expensive,"

He picked up the boot and moved to place it in his car, but stopped just short.

"You don't want this, do ya?"

Dorian's examination of the boot on his van was interrupted by a loud whistle nearby. A familiar human fly, who pulled up next to him. "Nice boot! Need a hand, buddy?"

Dorian’s slumped against the van, giving himself half a moment to be Not Okay before he figures out how to solve today’s problem.

“‘Less it involves figuring out how the fuck I’m eh…how the fuck I’m gonna pay whatever fine they’re gonna-gonna slap me with…dunno what eh…what you can do.”

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"Babe is good," he replied weakly, still not separating from them.

"You can call me babe."

"You know you don't have to leave every day when I go to class, right?" Cricket's sitting on the counter in their kitchen, finishing off a breakfast smoothie.

Bugsy stopped in place as his passage to the front door was interrupted, clearly unexpectedly. He dropped his bag in order to go over and cuddle up against Cricket, laying his forehead against the flat of their sternum for a final bit of affection before he left. His ‘hawk was partially down over his bulging eyes, and he still looked half asleep. He was also wearing a skirt that Cricket was pretty sure didn’t belong to him, but that was more a Bugsy thing than a tired thing.

“I feel weird about being here when you’re not.”

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"Naw man; handcuffs, these bastards- they're all psychological. I mean, they're definitely physical,"

He clambered out of the car with a screwdriver, and immediately set to work opening it up.

"But they're only there to make you trap yourself, yeah? All you gotta do is fiddle with this, then loosen this here and-" the boot fell off with a clang, "done. You're a free man again. Got it?"

Dorian's examination of the boot on his van was interrupted by a loud whistle nearby. A familiar human fly, who pulled up next to him. "Nice boot! Need a hand, buddy?"

Dorian’s slumped against the van, giving himself half a moment to be Not Okay before he figures out how to solve today’s problem.

“‘Less it involves figuring out how the fuck I’m eh…how the fuck I’m gonna pay whatever fine they’re gonna-gonna slap me with…dunno what eh…what you can do.”

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Bugsy stood there for a moment, having to fight every insectoid instinct in his body that was yelling for him to flea flee. But then he hugged back, burying his face in Cricket as they spoke.

"I'm sorry."

"You know you don't have to leave every day when I go to class, right?" Cricket's sitting on the counter in their kitchen, finishing off a breakfast smoothie.

Bugsy stopped in place as his passage to the front door was interrupted, clearly unexpectedly. He dropped his bag in order to go over and cuddle up against Cricket, laying his forehead against the flat of their sternum for a final bit of affection before he left. His ‘hawk was partially down over his bulging eyes, and he still looked half asleep. He was also wearing a skirt that Cricket was pretty sure didn’t belong to him, but that was more a Bugsy thing than a tired thing.

“I feel weird about being here when you’re not.”

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"... pay the fine? You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me- buddy, look at me in my bigass fuckin eyes," Bugsy did an 'eyes on me' sort of gesture.

"I'm getting this boot off your car, and you're not paying any goddamn fine."

He parked his car, and immediately went rummaging through his back seat for... something, muttering to himself about kids these days not even knowing how to deal with a wheel clamp, and such.

Dorian's examination of the boot on his van was interrupted by a loud whistle nearby. A familiar human fly, who pulled up next to him. "Nice boot! Need a hand, buddy?"

Dorian’s slumped against the van, giving himself half a moment to be Not Okay before he figures out how to solve today’s problem.

“‘Less it involves figuring out how the fuck I’m eh…how the fuck I’m gonna pay whatever fine they’re gonna-gonna slap me with…dunno what eh…what you can do.”

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Bugsy wrinkled up his face further- he was angry at himself for letting it get this far, of course, and more than anything else, he was painfully aware of how much of an asshole he was, more than anything else. They didn't ask for this, they'd been perfectly happy with Amanita before he showed up and ruined things- was there anything he could touch and not wreck?

But... he could at least fix this right now. He could slip away later, but he couldn't walk out again.

He sniffled just a little, and uncertainly reached a hand towards Cricket, and in a small voice, said-

"Okay, okay, I won't go."

"You know you don't have to leave every day when I go to class, right?" Cricket's sitting on the counter in their kitchen, finishing off a breakfast smoothie.

Bugsy stopped in place as his passage to the front door was interrupted, clearly unexpectedly. He dropped his bag in order to go over and cuddle up against Cricket, laying his forehead against the flat of their sternum for a final bit of affection before he left. His ‘hawk was partially down over his bulging eyes, and he still looked half asleep. He was also wearing a skirt that Cricket was pretty sure didn’t belong to him, but that was more a Bugsy thing than a tired thing.

“I feel weird about being here when you’re not.”

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With their emotions clear in their colouration, Bugsy couldn't even pretend like this wasn't going to hurt them. Here he was, an asshole walking out, again. Just like he did with that florist guy, and the cute girl with the gap in her teeth, and Skunk.

Just like his dad did.

Again.

He stopped mid-step, the conflict clear on his buggy face as he looked at them. This was clear evidence as any that he was just going to keep hurting them, but if he didn't go now, he could stop this hurt. What was a bug to do?

"You know you don't have to leave every day when I go to class, right?" Cricket's sitting on the counter in their kitchen, finishing off a breakfast smoothie.

Bugsy stopped in place as his passage to the front door was interrupted, clearly unexpectedly. He dropped his bag in order to go over and cuddle up against Cricket, laying his forehead against the flat of their sternum for a final bit of affection before he left. His ‘hawk was partially down over his bulging eyes, and he still looked half asleep. He was also wearing a skirt that Cricket was pretty sure didn’t belong to him, but that was more a Bugsy thing than a tired thing.

“I feel weird about being here when you’re not.”

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"I should,"

Which didn't answer their question at all. Classic beast behaviour- running instead of dealing with human feelings.

"I'll see you around."

"You know you don't have to leave every day when I go to class, right?" Cricket's sitting on the counter in their kitchen, finishing off a breakfast smoothie.

Bugsy stopped in place as his passage to the front door was interrupted, clearly unexpectedly. He dropped his bag in order to go over and cuddle up against Cricket, laying his forehead against the flat of their sternum for a final bit of affection before he left. His ‘hawk was partially down over his bulging eyes, and he still looked half asleep. He was also wearing a skirt that Cricket was pretty sure didn’t belong to him, but that was more a Bugsy thing than a tired thing.

“I feel weird about being here when you’re not.”

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“But for the people who want to be there, it’s perfect.”