Outtake from "Smokin' cigarettes..." (Die Hard 4.0 fic)

[hope]

Beta readers around the world agree, this totally didn't fit in at the end of the story (where I had tacked it on after a couple more beers). But I love Lucy, so the world still gets to see it.

So, this is an outtake from Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo. Jack + Lucy, about 1000 words, chronologically occurring after the end of the story. Warning: run-on sentences, cussing, siblings, queering of characters.

Totally not beta read or nothing. That's why it's not going on the website, just here.

It's not even 8am when he pulls out his cell phone, finds Lucy's number. She picks up after the fourth ring. "This better be fucking good."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Jack says, already grinning. "I guess some things never change."

She recognizes his voice immediately. "What, like the fact that I'll always be fucking taller than you, Pipsqueak?" Lucy likes to pretend at being classy, but when it comes down to it she grew up more tomboyish than he did, learning to cuss like a sailor from God knows where at an early age, passing the knowledge onto Jack with the solemn oath never to divulge in front of Mom and Dad. She did lots of shit like that when they were kids, stuff Jack remembers these days and wonders if it was deliberate, making such a firm partnership between the two of them, something that could withstand the crap Mom and Dad would heap on them.

Not deliberately, of course. Jack knows that now, even though he didn't really understand what was going on then, just had his period of teenage rebellion late in high school, when Lucy left, went to the other side of the country, left Jack for Dad. Left Jack with Mom, even. He only really started talking to her again when he left for college himself, new perspective on the whole situation once he's out of it, out of Mom's house, even if he was still in California. Lucy had no problem picking up pretty much exactly where they left off, albeit long distance. One of the many things he's grateful for, in brief moments when he tries not to think about how much she means to him. The swearing helps, in those moments.

"What the hell are you calling me for, anyway?" she continues. "Isn't it like, four AM for you? Are you drunk dialling?" He can hear her waking up, in the tone of her voice and the rustle through the speaker.

"Yeah, nice to hear your voice too," he says, mock-hurt. "I'm in New York."

"What? Why? Why didn't you tell me, you little shit?"

"I just got here yesterday," he says, not answering the question, and knowing she'll not let that go he follows it up with, "I'm at Dad's place."

She's silent for a long moment; Jack can't even hear her moving around any more. "Yeah?" she says at last, and her tone has changed almost imperceptibly, though Jack can hear the difference. "Have you, uh, met Matt?"

"Dad's roomie?" Jack says, knowing she's testing the waters and baiting her on anyway, seeing how long she can hold it.

She snorts. "That what they're calling it these days?"

Jack giggles into the phone, listening to Lucy do the same on the other end. "Oh fuck," he says at length, catching his breath though he hasn't been laughing that hard. "This is so fucked up."

"No it's not," Lucy says immediately. "I'm not saying it's not weird, but..."

"Yeah," Jack says. "Yeah, I know." He pauses, and Lucy waits for him, knowing he's not finished. "Did Dad tell you?" He hates how weak he sounds, how hurt; wants Lucy to rib him for it so he can just write it off. Because he doesn't feel like that. He doesn't. It's been fucking years since he's cared about what his father can give him.

"No way," Lucy says, then snorts. "It's ironic, how much like Mom he is."

"Who, Matt?" Jack says, and Lucy hoots out another laugh.

"No, Dad, you jackass. Remember that time, when... When I came home that Thanksgiving and brought Gwen with me?"

Jack remembered, all right. Gwen wore shitkicking boots and ratty armwarmers, had a skull that was fuzzy like a peach and a silver stud in her nose. Seeing her and Luce together made Jack realize just how much of a costume Lucy's long hair and girly clothes were really, and he felt okay about his sister in a way he hadn't since she'd hit puberty and started wearing makeup and short skirts instead of biking around with him in their little league jerseys. Gwen had been totally fucking awesome, and Mom had walked around stiffly the whole first day of the weekend like she had a stick shoved up her ass. She'd relaxed a little after Gwen helped her cook, though, fixing the best fucking made-from-scratch cranberry sauce Jack had ever eaten. He'd been kind of pissed when Lucy had brought some Ivy League jock home the next year.

"So what, Matt is Dad's 'special friend'? This is kind of different, Luce."

"No it's not," she insists. "And you didn't see them months ago when it first started, Jesus. It was like whenever I came over there I didn't know whether to hose him down or force-feed him a chill pill."

Jack makes a noise to convey how gross he finds that statement. "Too much fucking information, thanks Luce," he says.

"Sorry," she says, completely insincerely. "Can I gross you out in person? How long are you here for?"

"I don't know," Jack confesses. The reason he came has pretty much been fixed, and he should head back to California as soon as possible to do some righteous ass-kicking. But he wants to stick around.

"Come today," Lucy says. "Get Matt to drive you."

As if on cue, Matt comes out of his room - the spare room, the study - running his hand through his hair and heading for the fridge. "Hey, you wanna--" he says, then closes the fridge door again and looking at Jack directly, registering the phone in his hand. "Sorry, I, um -- never mind. I'll just--" He makes an uninterpretable gesture with both hands then turns about again, carrying a slender can.

"Is that Matt?" Lucy says, then before Jack can even answer, demands, "put him on."

Matt takes the phone when Jack hands it to him, looking confused. His expression settles to a smirk within a moment, though, and after another moment he answers whatever she's said . "Brat. Okay, fine."

When he hands the phone back to Jack, Lucy's already ended the call. Matt looks at him, gives a hesitant smile. "Looks like we're going to Rutgers."

I think I like this bit better than I like the whole of the actual story. Surely that can't be right... *g*