YOU!

[maddy_ricks]

The year was 1945. Through a radio in the corner, Doris Day cooed the lyrics to Sentimental Journey. Blades of a fan twirled lazily in the summer air and the light of a dying afternoon slipped amber-yellow through the window shades. The air smelled of oak and whisky, tobacco and perfume.

It was all a bit of strange juxtaposition, considering the blood spewing from the crown of a man’s head as he toppled from his bar stool onto the slatted floor. Madeleine stood over him, a silver key swinging from her neck and a broken bottle in her hand. The lines up the backside of her pantyhose were crooked and perspiration stuck strands of hair to her neck. “That’s what you get for not calling.”

She crouched next to him and raised her cigarette over the wound for the sole purpose of ashing it at the first opportunity. “And that… is for sticking your Johnson in my roommate,” she hissed.

People were staring. Strike that, men were staring, regulars she knew from the bar, each of them with their own string of conquests. She wiped her forehead and yelled, “What?!”

A row of hats slowly pivoted back to the bar.

The memory of that moment – and all those faces – was as fresh today as it had been in 1945. So when Maddy saw the profile sitting at the bar, she stopped throwing darts and elbowed her way through a crowd of drunk people shouting at the Celtics game. “Hey! Hey, you!”

Comments

[maddy_ricks]

She snorted so hard it made her cough.

"Some people consider nicknames a sign of affection. I don't walk around demanding people call me Madeleine all the time. It's pretentious. What am I, a ballerina?"

She grabbed a handful of peanuts and tossed them back.

[whistlersmum]

"There was that one time you showed up at my door wearing only a tutu."

[maddy_ricks]

She smiled sweetly. "Feeling nostalgic, are we?"

[whistlersmum]

He chuckled, taking a drag from his cigarette. "I'm old as sin, everything about me is nostalgic."

A second drag. "We sinned good together, didn't we."

[maddy_ricks]

“Yeah, I guess we did,” she conceded. Forty years was too long to hold a grudge against him. They’d run together long enough, and the only real crime Whistler committed was taking up with the next nearest girl. What a dumb-ass.

She wrinkled her nose. “Me especially. And that's before I started chasing skirts.”

She stubbed her cigarette out.

“Listen.” Maddy glanced over her shoulder, not looking for anyone in particular so much as getting a general feel for the place and who was in it. “I wasn’t kidding when I said the big dogs are in town. Biggest. So far they’re just feeling things out, I think, seeing who shows up and who does what. But for god’s sake, watch where you’re sniffing!”

[whistlersmum]

"I didn't get this old by being obvious," he winked.

The Agent nodded to her, letting Maddy know he had indeed heard the weight of her words. "If things get dark, don't hesitate to use that," he pointed to the key around her neck, "and get as far away as possible."

"And really?" He stubbed out his cigarette. "All our time together, you didn't bring that up once."

It wouldn't have kept him from straying, but it might've delayed the inevitable.

[maddy_ricks]

“What, so I could watch you make that face on top of someone else?” Maddy smirked at him. “Come on, Gus… get real.” She polished off the beer and slipped off the stool in no particularly dainty way. “I was going to ask if you wanted another go, for old times, but I’ve just decided I need to wash my hair.”

She pressed a red kiss to his cheek.

[whistlersmum]

He pressed back.

"You could pick a lock to a hairstylists and I could... wash it for you."

A beat.

Whistler bust out laughing. "I'm sorry, I couldn't keep a straight face."

[maddy_ricks]

She scrunched her nose. "What-- I--" Maddy shook her head. "That's your line? Seriously, why, younger version of me, why?" A slap to his shoulder and she walked away, more than happy to leave him with the bill.