Bela Talbot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
enjoythe_ride) wrote2008-09-22 02:39 pm
enjoythe_ride) wrote2008-09-22 02:39 pm
[BCM] Patience
[Co-written with the awesome ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lawyerlarry. Takes place sometime midweekish.]
Bela arrived in Portsmouth late in the evening. She had intended to take a flight directly into New York, but flights had been delayed, and she would rather take a flight with a layover in Boston than waiting five hours for a flight without the layover. The layover did allow her a bit of time to catch up with an old friend, however, and she was never one to turn that down. As soon as she landed, she rented a car and drove her way to Portsmouth, pulling up in front of the lighthouse, revealed lights still on in the house. Pushing the door of the car open with a smile, she made her way to the front door and knocked, waiting for the resident to come to the door and see her, shifting slightly on her heels as she waited.
Larry was sitting around the house doing a lot of nothing when he heard the knock on the door. He glanced up. He wasn't expecting anyone and that worried him. The last time someone showed up on his doorstop, he ended up marrying her in Vegas. With a sigh he got himself up and went to the door to pull it open. When he spotted Bela he tilted his head and blinked, quite surprised. “…hi.”
She gave him a wide smile. “I was flying in from London and I happened to have a layover in Boston for a few hours. I was wondering if you might want to have a drink—for old time’s sake.” She had to admit, she hadn't seen much of Larry since she had come to him about her will in New York, and she would like to remedy that—at least for the time being.
He raised a brow. “Well, I don’t see why not. It’s not the most exciting town here, but I have drinks inside or a few odds and ends down at my bar.”
“If I was looking for excitement, I would have said excitement,” Bela replied, raising an eyebrow back at him, crossing her arms in front of her. “Now are you coming?”
“I just thought I’d make that clear,” he rolled his eyes. “Coming where?”
“Out,” Bela said thinly. “For the drink.” There was something off about him. Something that wasn't the Larry she knew and tolerated, and she wasn't sure if it was something she should inquire about, or something that would just come out on his own.
“Let me get my keys,” he shook his head, still completely confused as to her presence, and turned to grab his keys. He also slid his feet into his shoes and turned back to her. “Are you okay with going to my...almost bar?”
“As long as there's liquid, I don’t particularly care,” she said with a sigh, waiting outside the house while Larry got himself together.
He moved out of the house and pulled the door shut, not all too concerned with locking it. Something he was adjusting to in that town. He glanced at her with a raised brow. “Impatient, Bela?”
“I don’t exactly have a lot of time, Larry,” she said with a sigh. “I’m only on a layover, and then I have to fly the rest of the way into New York.”
“It's only a couple hours’ drive from here.”
“Yes, well—I spent the money for the plane, I might as well ride the rest of the way.” If the conversation turned out better than it was looking, she would consider taking the train in, but until then—she planned on returning to New York on that plane.
“Well don’t let me stand in the way of your drinking time,” he rolled his eyes and headed over to his car, pressing the electronic key to unlock the doors.
She tilted her head to the side slightly as she followed him, her eyes starting to narrow in concern. “Are you alright, Larry?”
He nodded. “I’m fine.” He pulled open the drivers side door and hopped in. He put on his seatbelt and started the car. She slid into the passenger’s seat, giving him a look before closing the door behind her. Something wasn’t right, and she felt that she needed to figure out what. He peered over his shoulder as he backed out of the long driveway and turned onto the main road. He knew the look Bela was looking at him with, but he was ignoring it. He wasn’t quite in the mood to talk about things, especially not with Bela. He wasn’t in the mood for being mocked. Though…really he knew he would be regardless.
Bela sighed heavily before turning away from him and looking out the window. Portsmouth was really a pretty little town, if you had time for that kind of thing. Bela rarely ever did, but for the moment it seemed to work for her. He drove through town quietly and wound his way down the main drag. He pulled the car to a stop outside of the bar and got out, then went over and opened her door for her with an arm wave.
“Why thank you,” she said with a small smirk, before getting out of the car and looking over at the bar. It wasn’t the fanciest place she'd ever seen, but it would do for the moment.
He caught her look and shook his head as he went over, pulling up the right key. “It’s a work in progress. Far behind where I wanted to be by now.” He unlocked the door and opened it, leaning in to hit the lights then stepping back. “After you.”
She headed in ahead of him and glanced around slowly. “Looks better from the inside, actually,” she said with a nod. “It’s nice.”
“Thank you,” he nodded and went behind the bar. He found a couple glasses from the new set that had finally come in and set them on the bar top. Then he reached down and pulled up a bottle of opened scotch. He held it up to her in offering.
She gave him a nod as she slid onto the bar stool across from him. “Works for me.” He nodded back and poured two glasses, then moved around and sat beside her. She took a long sip before turning to face him, tilting her head to the side slightly. She could tell that something was wrong, but she just wasn’t sure what. “Did Sam get the package I sent him?”
He sipped his own scotch and nodded. “He did. He loved it. Apparently he’s been telling some of his friends it has powers and no one else can wear it or they won't work.” He smirked lightly to himself.
She chuckled slightly before nodding. “Well, if he's convincing enough as a storyteller—more power to him.”
Larry nodded and drank more of his scotch. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine,” she said with a nod. “Just finished some business in India, and after this I’m starting to work at a security company in New York.”
“A security company...mmmm,” he nodded slowly.
“Yes—a friend of mine inherited it, and he asked me to come in as a corporate investigator.”
“I see. Well, good luck with that.”
“Thank you,” she said with a nod. “What have you been up to?”
He shrugged and sipped his scotch. “The bar.” He waited a moment, before blinking. “Oh. And I got married apparently.”
“Married?” her eyebrows shot in to the air, and she pouted slightly, teasing him a bit. “And I wasn’t invited? Larry, I’m hurt.”
“Well I was barely there, myself. Forgive me.” He drank some more. “No, a friend and I went to Vegas one night, we got really drunk and...really stupid. Now we’re having trouble getting out of it.”
“Well—good luck with that then,” she said with a slight laugh.
He gave her an unamused glare. “I know, you’re just jealous because it wasn't you.”
“Oh yes—so jealous,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “The only men I’ve been around with often enough to consider marrying would sooner shoot me than marry me, no matter what the level of intoxication was.”
“Oh? In love?” he smirked. “Who’s the lucky man? Or..unlucky..either way.”
“Hardly,” Bela replied, rolling her eyes. She wasn’t going to mention the fact that if she ever saw him again, she would probably drop dead, as per terms of her deal, but that really wasn’t all that important. “And it would be rather unlucky for both of us—we’d probably kill each other. Besides—he unfortunately passed away four months ago.”
“Sorry to hear that,” he said quietly.
She shrugged. “That’s the roll of the dice, I’m afraid.”
“As is life,” he nodded. He grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. “More?" He asked before capping it up.
She paused for a minute, thinking it over, before nodding. “Sure. I have the time.” He filled up her glass then closed the bottle and set it down. He picked up his own glass again and began to sip it. She did so as well, before closing her eyes, and leaning her head back slightly. “Larry—what’s wrong?”
“What makes you think anything is wrong?” He set his glass down a little too hard. “Life is perfect.”
“Because, Larry, I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re not acting like yourself—and this is a clear example of it.” Her eyes started to narrow slightly, taking a more defensive stance on the way she was sitting. “You’re depressed. I can tell at least that much.”
He glanced over. “Well maybe you don’t know me and maybe this is how I really am.”
She pursed her lips slightly, before turning back to her glass. “Fine. Then I want you to at least pretend. I came here to have a good time, not drink myself into oblivion.”
“You don’t have to drink as much as me,” he said smartly with a smirk. “And we can have fun. It is what you women do best, isn’t it?”
She straightened slightly at that, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“What?” he looked over at her blankly, not quite sure of what he said.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she said with a frown. “That that’s what we do best?”
“Have fun. Make life and men your own personal toys.”
“You think that’s what we do?”
“Most of you, yes.”
“Most of us don’t set out with that intention, Larry.”
He got up to his feet, a bit unsteady, and began to walk back and forth slowly. “Just for those of us that truly deserve it?”
“No, Larry,” she sighed turning to face him as he did. “What. Happened.” It wasn’t a question anymore, it was a demand, and if she didn’t get some answers soon, she may be liable to shoot him.
He sipped his scotch as he paced. “Nothing new. Larry made stupid decisions, thought impossible things for himself might actually be possible, and got proven wrong. As always.” He had been drinking before she showed up at his door, and the next couple glasses really weren’t helping. And really, the only words he had the strength to come up with were laced with bitterness. Better than being laced with vulnerability.
“Larry,” she began slowly, now more worried than pissed off, though that worry was fleeting, given the amount of alcohol she had and the tone of this conversation. “Larry, stop—” He ignored her and kept pacing. “Larry!” she began, raising her voice a little more, reaching into her coat slightly, starting to feel the impatience rising again. He kept quiet, bringing his glass to his lips. He had several thoughts on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't know how to come out and say them. Especially not to Bela. They didn’t talk about those things. And he felt if he tried talking about it all once more, he might just snap. “Damnit, Larry, stop!” she said, before pulling out her gun and shooting at the floor in front of him -- at least that was what she was aiming for.
Pain. Pain in his foot. Burning pain. He stopped in his tracks and dropped his glass. Jaw dropping, he looked down to his foot. Neither word nor sound could escape him. “Oh my God!” Bela's eyes went wide as his foot moved a bit faster than she had anticipated. “Oh, my God, Larry, I’m so sorry.”
A bit of a pained gasp finally came out of him and he slid down to the floor. He looked up at her, shocked and helpless. “You...you shot me.”
“I didn’t shoot you—or at least I didn’t mean to,” she sighed slightly, before moving over to have a look at it. “I meant to shoot the floor, but you didn’t stop moving.”
He groaned and moved to lay on his back. “Women.”
Bela ran a hand over her face, before pulling out her phone. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
“Why? I’m not going to die.” He tried to sit up and look at his foot. “Unless it’s gone. Is it gone?”
“No, but you still need to stop the bleeding don’t you?” she said, glaring back at him. “This isn’t like a paper cut, Larry, you need medical attention.”
“I wouldn’t need it if you hadn’t SHOT me.”
“I didn’t mean to shoot you,” she growled as she placed the phone to her ear. It rang for a moment before the operator on the other end of the line picked up. “Hello? Oh, please, quickly—you need to send an ambulance, my husband’s been shot!”
He’d never really been shot before, so it was going to his head a bit. He blinked. “Didn’t we already go over this? We’re not married.”
She shot him a glare, before turning back to the person on the phone. “Yes, someone broke in to the bar—they wanted the money in the register, and when they didn’t—oh, please, please—just send an ambulance.” As she was doing this, she walked behind the bar, stashing the gun somewhere where they wouldn’t find it and she could find it later, before going back to trying to keep Larry's foot from bleeding.
“There is no money in the register,” he commented. “We’re not open yet.”
“What’s the address of the bar?” she hissed, giving him a glare.
“Uhh…” he closed his eyes and thought it over for a moment before telling her. She repeated the number to the operator before pleading for them to come quickly and hanging up.
“Will you just shut up and let me handle this?”
“But you’re lying, Bela.” He looked up at her. No, that wasn’t working. His eyes closed. “Shouldn’t lie.”
“Oh, bloody—” she began slowly, before tightening the cloth she was wrapping around his foot. “Stay. Awake. Larry.”
“I’m awake,” he grumbled. “Stop talking about blood.”
She gritted her teeth slightly as she tightened the towel and waited for the ambulance to come. “What the hell is taking them so long?”
He began to giggle. “Another woman shot me down. Damn.”
“Another woman is going to beat you with a damn chair if you don’t shut up.”
“Oh I’ve never had a woman beat me with a chair. You’d be my first. Be gentle.” He chuckled more. She glared more intensely at him, ready to reach for the chair next to her, when she heard the sirens arriving next to the building, and she dropped the angry look for one of concern as the paramedics burst into the room.
“Please, you have to help him, he’s lost a lot of blood!”
“And it hurts!” The paramedics took over, pushing Bela to the side and moving to heave Larry onto a stretcher and take him out of the room. Bela started to follow before the police stopped her, wanting to ask her questions about the supposed burgulary. “Beeeela!” He called out as he was whisked away.
“Officer, I have to go with him,” she started. “He’s terrified of doctors and—”
“Ma’am, I just have a few questions for you, and then we’ll take you to the hospital ourselves—”
“Don’t let them have my scotch, Bela!”
She bit her lip slightly, trying not to laugh, before turning back to the officer. “As you can see, officer, clearly he’s delusional, I should really go with him—”
“Just have a little patience, Ms.—?”
“Paul. Adrienne Paul, but you see my husband—”
“Just have a little patience, Ms. Paul, and we’ll have you outta here before ya know it.”
Larry was moved into the ambulance and he started looking around a bit. “Huh. These look bigger on TV.”
***
Bela made her way into the emergency room about a half-hour later, glancing around anxiously for the front desk. She quickly made her way to the nurse on duty, and leaned forward onto the desk slamming her hand down to get the woman's attention. “I’m looking for Larry Paul.”
The nurse looked up, mildly annoyed, before turning back to the chart in front of her. “Your relation to the patient?”
“I’m his wife? Adrienne?”
The nurse looked up and looked her over again, before nodding in the direction of the other end of the ER. “Trauma Three.”
“Thank you,” she said with a sigh, before heading in the direction of the trauma room. Larry was spread out on the bed. They had finally cleaned his foot up and started the stitches. He was already happily drugged up.
“Bela!!”
“Larry,” she said with a slight chuckle. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m good. Just talking to the doctor here. This is Doctor Harper. And that’s my Bela,” he told the doctor.
“Hello, Doctor Harper,” she said with a sigh. "How’s he doing?”
The doctor smirked and shook his head. “He’ll be just fine. It seems the bullet got the side of his foot. Nothing we can’t fix.”
Larry nodded. “He’s a good doctor. He can fix it. But don't trivialize it, huh? Cause it hurt like a bitch. It really did.”
“I never trivialize things like gunshot wounds, Larry,” she said, rubbing his shoulder lightly, as someone in a wifely position would do. “Not unless you deserve it.”
“I might,” he nodded. “I probably do for being an idiot.” He looked up at her, blinking. “I'm an idiot.”
“Are you?” she said with a frown, looking back down at him.
He nodded and closed his eyes. “Stupidly caring when I shouldn’t,” he murmured sleepily. “Stupidly thought she cared.”
“Oh, Larry, I’m sure she cared,” she sighed softly.
“Hmmph.” He felt himself getting very drowsy. He wasn't quite sure of what he was saying anymore. “Nope.”
“How are you so sure?” Bela asked softly.
“Because I know.”
“Women are more complicated than you think, Larry.”
“Mmm.” He went quiet as he tried to pull the words together in his state. “Hurts my head.”
“Then don't think about it, sweetie.”
“Mm, okay,” he said as he drifted off into a drug induced sleep.
3176 words
lawyerlarry. Takes place sometime midweekish.]Bela arrived in Portsmouth late in the evening. She had intended to take a flight directly into New York, but flights had been delayed, and she would rather take a flight with a layover in Boston than waiting five hours for a flight without the layover. The layover did allow her a bit of time to catch up with an old friend, however, and she was never one to turn that down. As soon as she landed, she rented a car and drove her way to Portsmouth, pulling up in front of the lighthouse, revealed lights still on in the house. Pushing the door of the car open with a smile, she made her way to the front door and knocked, waiting for the resident to come to the door and see her, shifting slightly on her heels as she waited.
Larry was sitting around the house doing a lot of nothing when he heard the knock on the door. He glanced up. He wasn't expecting anyone and that worried him. The last time someone showed up on his doorstop, he ended up marrying her in Vegas. With a sigh he got himself up and went to the door to pull it open. When he spotted Bela he tilted his head and blinked, quite surprised. “…hi.”
She gave him a wide smile. “I was flying in from London and I happened to have a layover in Boston for a few hours. I was wondering if you might want to have a drink—for old time’s sake.” She had to admit, she hadn't seen much of Larry since she had come to him about her will in New York, and she would like to remedy that—at least for the time being.
He raised a brow. “Well, I don’t see why not. It’s not the most exciting town here, but I have drinks inside or a few odds and ends down at my bar.”
“If I was looking for excitement, I would have said excitement,” Bela replied, raising an eyebrow back at him, crossing her arms in front of her. “Now are you coming?”
“I just thought I’d make that clear,” he rolled his eyes. “Coming where?”
“Out,” Bela said thinly. “For the drink.” There was something off about him. Something that wasn't the Larry she knew and tolerated, and she wasn't sure if it was something she should inquire about, or something that would just come out on his own.
“Let me get my keys,” he shook his head, still completely confused as to her presence, and turned to grab his keys. He also slid his feet into his shoes and turned back to her. “Are you okay with going to my...almost bar?”
“As long as there's liquid, I don’t particularly care,” she said with a sigh, waiting outside the house while Larry got himself together.
He moved out of the house and pulled the door shut, not all too concerned with locking it. Something he was adjusting to in that town. He glanced at her with a raised brow. “Impatient, Bela?”
“I don’t exactly have a lot of time, Larry,” she said with a sigh. “I’m only on a layover, and then I have to fly the rest of the way into New York.”
“It's only a couple hours’ drive from here.”
“Yes, well—I spent the money for the plane, I might as well ride the rest of the way.” If the conversation turned out better than it was looking, she would consider taking the train in, but until then—she planned on returning to New York on that plane.
“Well don’t let me stand in the way of your drinking time,” he rolled his eyes and headed over to his car, pressing the electronic key to unlock the doors.
She tilted her head to the side slightly as she followed him, her eyes starting to narrow in concern. “Are you alright, Larry?”
He nodded. “I’m fine.” He pulled open the drivers side door and hopped in. He put on his seatbelt and started the car. She slid into the passenger’s seat, giving him a look before closing the door behind her. Something wasn’t right, and she felt that she needed to figure out what. He peered over his shoulder as he backed out of the long driveway and turned onto the main road. He knew the look Bela was looking at him with, but he was ignoring it. He wasn’t quite in the mood to talk about things, especially not with Bela. He wasn’t in the mood for being mocked. Though…really he knew he would be regardless.
Bela sighed heavily before turning away from him and looking out the window. Portsmouth was really a pretty little town, if you had time for that kind of thing. Bela rarely ever did, but for the moment it seemed to work for her. He drove through town quietly and wound his way down the main drag. He pulled the car to a stop outside of the bar and got out, then went over and opened her door for her with an arm wave.
“Why thank you,” she said with a small smirk, before getting out of the car and looking over at the bar. It wasn’t the fanciest place she'd ever seen, but it would do for the moment.
He caught her look and shook his head as he went over, pulling up the right key. “It’s a work in progress. Far behind where I wanted to be by now.” He unlocked the door and opened it, leaning in to hit the lights then stepping back. “After you.”
She headed in ahead of him and glanced around slowly. “Looks better from the inside, actually,” she said with a nod. “It’s nice.”
“Thank you,” he nodded and went behind the bar. He found a couple glasses from the new set that had finally come in and set them on the bar top. Then he reached down and pulled up a bottle of opened scotch. He held it up to her in offering.
She gave him a nod as she slid onto the bar stool across from him. “Works for me.” He nodded back and poured two glasses, then moved around and sat beside her. She took a long sip before turning to face him, tilting her head to the side slightly. She could tell that something was wrong, but she just wasn’t sure what. “Did Sam get the package I sent him?”
He sipped his own scotch and nodded. “He did. He loved it. Apparently he’s been telling some of his friends it has powers and no one else can wear it or they won't work.” He smirked lightly to himself.
She chuckled slightly before nodding. “Well, if he's convincing enough as a storyteller—more power to him.”
Larry nodded and drank more of his scotch. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine,” she said with a nod. “Just finished some business in India, and after this I’m starting to work at a security company in New York.”
“A security company...mmmm,” he nodded slowly.
“Yes—a friend of mine inherited it, and he asked me to come in as a corporate investigator.”
“I see. Well, good luck with that.”
“Thank you,” she said with a nod. “What have you been up to?”
He shrugged and sipped his scotch. “The bar.” He waited a moment, before blinking. “Oh. And I got married apparently.”
“Married?” her eyebrows shot in to the air, and she pouted slightly, teasing him a bit. “And I wasn’t invited? Larry, I’m hurt.”
“Well I was barely there, myself. Forgive me.” He drank some more. “No, a friend and I went to Vegas one night, we got really drunk and...really stupid. Now we’re having trouble getting out of it.”
“Well—good luck with that then,” she said with a slight laugh.
He gave her an unamused glare. “I know, you’re just jealous because it wasn't you.”
“Oh yes—so jealous,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “The only men I’ve been around with often enough to consider marrying would sooner shoot me than marry me, no matter what the level of intoxication was.”
“Oh? In love?” he smirked. “Who’s the lucky man? Or..unlucky..either way.”
“Hardly,” Bela replied, rolling her eyes. She wasn’t going to mention the fact that if she ever saw him again, she would probably drop dead, as per terms of her deal, but that really wasn’t all that important. “And it would be rather unlucky for both of us—we’d probably kill each other. Besides—he unfortunately passed away four months ago.”
“Sorry to hear that,” he said quietly.
She shrugged. “That’s the roll of the dice, I’m afraid.”
“As is life,” he nodded. He grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. “More?" He asked before capping it up.
She paused for a minute, thinking it over, before nodding. “Sure. I have the time.” He filled up her glass then closed the bottle and set it down. He picked up his own glass again and began to sip it. She did so as well, before closing her eyes, and leaning her head back slightly. “Larry—what’s wrong?”
“What makes you think anything is wrong?” He set his glass down a little too hard. “Life is perfect.”
“Because, Larry, I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re not acting like yourself—and this is a clear example of it.” Her eyes started to narrow slightly, taking a more defensive stance on the way she was sitting. “You’re depressed. I can tell at least that much.”
He glanced over. “Well maybe you don’t know me and maybe this is how I really am.”
She pursed her lips slightly, before turning back to her glass. “Fine. Then I want you to at least pretend. I came here to have a good time, not drink myself into oblivion.”
“You don’t have to drink as much as me,” he said smartly with a smirk. “And we can have fun. It is what you women do best, isn’t it?”
She straightened slightly at that, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“What?” he looked over at her blankly, not quite sure of what he said.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she said with a frown. “That that’s what we do best?”
“Have fun. Make life and men your own personal toys.”
“You think that’s what we do?”
“Most of you, yes.”
“Most of us don’t set out with that intention, Larry.”
He got up to his feet, a bit unsteady, and began to walk back and forth slowly. “Just for those of us that truly deserve it?”
“No, Larry,” she sighed turning to face him as he did. “What. Happened.” It wasn’t a question anymore, it was a demand, and if she didn’t get some answers soon, she may be liable to shoot him.
He sipped his scotch as he paced. “Nothing new. Larry made stupid decisions, thought impossible things for himself might actually be possible, and got proven wrong. As always.” He had been drinking before she showed up at his door, and the next couple glasses really weren’t helping. And really, the only words he had the strength to come up with were laced with bitterness. Better than being laced with vulnerability.
“Larry,” she began slowly, now more worried than pissed off, though that worry was fleeting, given the amount of alcohol she had and the tone of this conversation. “Larry, stop—” He ignored her and kept pacing. “Larry!” she began, raising her voice a little more, reaching into her coat slightly, starting to feel the impatience rising again. He kept quiet, bringing his glass to his lips. He had several thoughts on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't know how to come out and say them. Especially not to Bela. They didn’t talk about those things. And he felt if he tried talking about it all once more, he might just snap. “Damnit, Larry, stop!” she said, before pulling out her gun and shooting at the floor in front of him -- at least that was what she was aiming for.
Pain. Pain in his foot. Burning pain. He stopped in his tracks and dropped his glass. Jaw dropping, he looked down to his foot. Neither word nor sound could escape him. “Oh my God!” Bela's eyes went wide as his foot moved a bit faster than she had anticipated. “Oh, my God, Larry, I’m so sorry.”
A bit of a pained gasp finally came out of him and he slid down to the floor. He looked up at her, shocked and helpless. “You...you shot me.”
“I didn’t shoot you—or at least I didn’t mean to,” she sighed slightly, before moving over to have a look at it. “I meant to shoot the floor, but you didn’t stop moving.”
He groaned and moved to lay on his back. “Women.”
Bela ran a hand over her face, before pulling out her phone. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
“Why? I’m not going to die.” He tried to sit up and look at his foot. “Unless it’s gone. Is it gone?”
“No, but you still need to stop the bleeding don’t you?” she said, glaring back at him. “This isn’t like a paper cut, Larry, you need medical attention.”
“I wouldn’t need it if you hadn’t SHOT me.”
“I didn’t mean to shoot you,” she growled as she placed the phone to her ear. It rang for a moment before the operator on the other end of the line picked up. “Hello? Oh, please, quickly—you need to send an ambulance, my husband’s been shot!”
He’d never really been shot before, so it was going to his head a bit. He blinked. “Didn’t we already go over this? We’re not married.”
She shot him a glare, before turning back to the person on the phone. “Yes, someone broke in to the bar—they wanted the money in the register, and when they didn’t—oh, please, please—just send an ambulance.” As she was doing this, she walked behind the bar, stashing the gun somewhere where they wouldn’t find it and she could find it later, before going back to trying to keep Larry's foot from bleeding.
“There is no money in the register,” he commented. “We’re not open yet.”
“What’s the address of the bar?” she hissed, giving him a glare.
“Uhh…” he closed his eyes and thought it over for a moment before telling her. She repeated the number to the operator before pleading for them to come quickly and hanging up.
“Will you just shut up and let me handle this?”
“But you’re lying, Bela.” He looked up at her. No, that wasn’t working. His eyes closed. “Shouldn’t lie.”
“Oh, bloody—” she began slowly, before tightening the cloth she was wrapping around his foot. “Stay. Awake. Larry.”
“I’m awake,” he grumbled. “Stop talking about blood.”
She gritted her teeth slightly as she tightened the towel and waited for the ambulance to come. “What the hell is taking them so long?”
He began to giggle. “Another woman shot me down. Damn.”
“Another woman is going to beat you with a damn chair if you don’t shut up.”
“Oh I’ve never had a woman beat me with a chair. You’d be my first. Be gentle.” He chuckled more. She glared more intensely at him, ready to reach for the chair next to her, when she heard the sirens arriving next to the building, and she dropped the angry look for one of concern as the paramedics burst into the room.
“Please, you have to help him, he’s lost a lot of blood!”
“And it hurts!” The paramedics took over, pushing Bela to the side and moving to heave Larry onto a stretcher and take him out of the room. Bela started to follow before the police stopped her, wanting to ask her questions about the supposed burgulary. “Beeeela!” He called out as he was whisked away.
“Officer, I have to go with him,” she started. “He’s terrified of doctors and—”
“Ma’am, I just have a few questions for you, and then we’ll take you to the hospital ourselves—”
“Don’t let them have my scotch, Bela!”
She bit her lip slightly, trying not to laugh, before turning back to the officer. “As you can see, officer, clearly he’s delusional, I should really go with him—”
“Just have a little patience, Ms.—?”
“Paul. Adrienne Paul, but you see my husband—”
“Just have a little patience, Ms. Paul, and we’ll have you outta here before ya know it.”
Larry was moved into the ambulance and he started looking around a bit. “Huh. These look bigger on TV.”
***
Bela made her way into the emergency room about a half-hour later, glancing around anxiously for the front desk. She quickly made her way to the nurse on duty, and leaned forward onto the desk slamming her hand down to get the woman's attention. “I’m looking for Larry Paul.”
The nurse looked up, mildly annoyed, before turning back to the chart in front of her. “Your relation to the patient?”
“I’m his wife? Adrienne?”
The nurse looked up and looked her over again, before nodding in the direction of the other end of the ER. “Trauma Three.”
“Thank you,” she said with a sigh, before heading in the direction of the trauma room. Larry was spread out on the bed. They had finally cleaned his foot up and started the stitches. He was already happily drugged up.
“Bela!!”
“Larry,” she said with a slight chuckle. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m good. Just talking to the doctor here. This is Doctor Harper. And that’s my Bela,” he told the doctor.
“Hello, Doctor Harper,” she said with a sigh. "How’s he doing?”
The doctor smirked and shook his head. “He’ll be just fine. It seems the bullet got the side of his foot. Nothing we can’t fix.”
Larry nodded. “He’s a good doctor. He can fix it. But don't trivialize it, huh? Cause it hurt like a bitch. It really did.”
“I never trivialize things like gunshot wounds, Larry,” she said, rubbing his shoulder lightly, as someone in a wifely position would do. “Not unless you deserve it.”
“I might,” he nodded. “I probably do for being an idiot.” He looked up at her, blinking. “I'm an idiot.”
“Are you?” she said with a frown, looking back down at him.
He nodded and closed his eyes. “Stupidly caring when I shouldn’t,” he murmured sleepily. “Stupidly thought she cared.”
“Oh, Larry, I’m sure she cared,” she sighed softly.
“Hmmph.” He felt himself getting very drowsy. He wasn't quite sure of what he was saying anymore. “Nope.”
“How are you so sure?” Bela asked softly.
“Because I know.”
“Women are more complicated than you think, Larry.”
“Mmm.” He went quiet as he tried to pull the words together in his state. “Hurts my head.”
“Then don't think about it, sweetie.”
“Mm, okay,” he said as he drifted off into a drug induced sleep.
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However, she showed up with a smile. All she asked was that he be somewhat cheerful.
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And..you know...ow, my foot, my foot.
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