What's Your Number? (Sunny, Casual)

[SUNNY CRUSOE]

"Yes Sir," Osric nodded along, appreciating what he was being told. Sunny was glad that he wasn’t wasting his breath then. Young people definitely needed to have more of this attitude. That did make Sunny feel old, but his age was not an issue, seeing as he was older than Osric, after all.

Now, it was time for him to tell his own story and Sunny quirked an eyebrow in invitation, showing that he was interested.

"I work in a music store. Ya know, that sells instruments and sheet music and some CDs and stuff. And I do some odd jobs, like, moving things for people. It's pretty good.”

Well, it sounded interesting, but there wasn’t much to this story. Now, if he was a spy...oh. Now, that was good. He was a spy who was sent over by the...hmm, he looked like he could pull of Czech. So he was a Czech spy trying to take down Wall Street. No, Wall Street was a joke. No, spy Osric was trying to take down the Mafia, starting with the families in New York. His cover – a music geek in New York City who fawned over authors and walked into poles – he didn’t know for sure that Osric walked into things, but his spy did for his cover. Who would suspect a kid like that to be anything less than genuine? Now, he just had to tie the Czech part to the whole mafia song and dance....

"I like the music. You like music?"

Sunny blinked. He had been caught up in the writing, after all.

“I like music well enough. Tell me, would you read a book that would pretty much invent the Czech Mafia?” He asked, thinking about how he would market it.

Sure, there was probably a Czech mafia, but the fact that no one here was quaking in their boots was a good indication that there was a lot of room to play in that sandbox.

“Do Czech people have music? I’m sure they do, but cultural music?” This kid was the music master, after all. If anyone would know, it would be him. “Do they, music man?”

[OSRIC YOUNG]

“I like music well enough. Tell me, would you read a book that would pretty much invent the Czech Mafia?" Robinson asked. Was he planning on writing one?

"I don't know," Osric said honestly. He thought a man like Mr. Robinson liked and deserved honesty. "Depends on the characters."

Sunny asked him, “Do Czech people have music? I’m sure they do, but cultural music? Do they, music man?”

Osric was pleasantly surprised to be called that. He liked the Music Man. He was in it once. Played Tommy. The music in that show made him cringe but he loved it nevertheless. It was a good cast. And it was his first kiss, with a very cute and talented girl.

"Czech people have cultural music, sure," Osric said. "Have you ever heard the phrase? Co Čech, to muzikant, "he recited. "Every Czech is a musician."

[SUNNY CRUSOE]

"I don't know. Depends on the characters."

Sunny hummed in agreement. He couldn’t tell Osric he was going to be one, that would ruin the surprise. But he had to agree with him – the characters are what made the story, no matter where it was set or what it was about. Though he liked to think that people picked his books up because he wrote them. He didn’t really care if they got read or not, but his publisher seemed to be pretty adamant that they should sell so many a year in so many countries and blah blah blah. He didn’t need to listen to them. They handled that crap, he had the easy job – write. Write, write some more, and then write what’s left.

"Czech people have cultural music, sure. Have you ever heard the phrase? Co Čech, to muzikant? Every Czech is a musician."

Sunny stopped walking to gape at his imagination.

“I must have if you know it,” he replied, thinking that had to be the case.

His brain could invent a lot of things, but seeing as how it was an actual phrase, he was sure that he’d heard it before, never thought twice about it, and now his fabrication was reminding him of it.

“You are beautiful,” he said, absolutely serious. “Oh, where were you when I was trying to write that god awful Christmas caper?”

He shook his head a bit, filing away that little saying so that he could toss it in the novel later. Osric’s character could throw that out there when they questioned his loyalties because his love of music was first and foremost. Yes, that would be the case. Osric’s loyalties would be doubted later in the book and they’d be right to suspect him because he’d be in love with one of the rival mob bosses’ daughters. Yes...her name would be Irina and she would be lovely, but so lonely. Her only bright spot would be music lessons with this boy and they would slowly fall for each other until she discovered who he was, had a womanly fit, got pissy, forgave him and urged him to run away with her. They’d end up down in Miami with six kids. Osric could go work with Mike – the drug running ex-doctor – but he’d have to have a better name, like Clooney or Gregor or Chuck. Yes, Osric looked like he could be a Chuck.

“Never mind that. We have to get home and eat peanut butter and Oreos and get the computer going so I can write all this shit down. It’s gold, Chuck. Absolute gold.”

He started strolling a bit quicker towards home. Oh yes, best seller once again, he was sure.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Mr. Crusoe stopped suddenly and Osric had to brace himself not to walk into him. “I must have if you know it."

"Um... okay." That was rather pigheaded of the guy to say, Osric thought, but whatever. Famous people were allowed to be pigheaded, after all.

“You are beautiful,” Mr. Crusoe said seriously. Osric was flattered and actually a little uncomfortable now. Which was a pretty big feat for someone like him. “Oh, where were you when I was trying to write that god awful Christmas caper?”

Osric blinkded. "Sir?"

They started walking again, Osric following along. So maybe Mr. Crusoe was a little crazier than he'd thought. No biggie. “Never mind that. We have to get home and eat peanut butter and Oreos and get the computer going so I can write all this shit down. It’s gold, Chuck. Absolute gold.”

"Osric," he said lightly, but he didn't mind that so much as the way Mr. Crusoe said we... it made Osric wonder if he was actually being led to this guy's house. Maybe he should say something. He definately should, but this... this was an opportunity. And adventure. Could he really pass that up? He sighed internally at his well-meaning as he said, "I'm not sure you really want to bring me to your house, Sir. I mean, we only just met."

[SUNNY CRUSOE]

"Osric."

Sunny waved him off. He’d had creations who were adamant about things before. Usually it was something like their back story or what they would or wouldn’t do. If this one didn’t want to be Chuck, well that was alright for now. When he was alone writing, well, then he’d see what Chuck had to say about name choices then.

"I'm not sure you really want to bring me to your house, Sir. I mean, we only just met."

Sunny blinked hard before laughing.

“I don’t usually have much choice about these things.”

It was true. His imagination didn’t just up and disappear at the front door. He wished it would sometimes, but it wasn’t always terrible. He got a lot done when he had muse, after all. Right then, Osric was his muse.

“As for having just met, we already get along just fine,” he pointed out, thinking he’d known people for years that he wouldn’t offer a life raft to in the middle of the ocean. “So why not? I promise to behave myself.”

Well...

“Alright, I promise my assistant will be around to make me behave myself,” he amended. “Besides, it’s not like I plan to skin you and wear you as a suit. And I’m not into men, so there’s no romantic interest there, either. Well, not that there’s anything wrong with it, but I wouldn’t know what to do with my hands.”

Which was important, after all. He didn’t know the man rules when it came to...touching.

“Are Oreos some hip euphemism for sex or something? I mean, I get the hot dog reference, but Oreos?”

He shook his head a bit. Life would never cease to amaze him.

“Anyways, my place – Oreos, peanut butter, writing. A good time will be had by all.”

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Mr. Crusoe looked confused for a second before he began to laugh. “I don’t usually have much choice about these things.” Osric stared, because... right. The 'little more crazy' just kept adding on to itself bit by tiny bit... “As for having just met, we already get along just fine. So why not? I promise to behave myself.”

Well, that was... some sort of logic. Osric kind of liked it actually, it was his kind of logic, but the kind he knew most people didn't really agree with. He almost felt like pointing out he could be secretly planning to kill Mr. Crusoe as soon as they step foot in his door, but that'd be morbid and anyways, he knew he was okay, and apparently Mr. Crusoe did too, so... it was all okay.

“Alright, I promise my assistant will be around to make me behave myself,” Mr. Crusoe added, interrupting overly quick stream of thoughts defending himself from feeling like a creeper. “Besides, it’s not like I plan to skin you and wear you as a suit." Osric blinked. Right, he supposed his saying something might not have been too morbid, after that. "And I’m not into men, so there’s no romantic interest there, either. Well, not that there’s anything wrong with it, but I wouldn’t know what to do with my hands.”

"Me neither," Osric admitted. He liked Mr. Crusoe was being open about that slightly random topic, because he always felt like saying that too when people decided he was gay, but it seemed somewhat crude.

“Are Oreos some hip euphemism for sex or something? I mean, I get the hot dog reference, but Oreos?”

"Um... no?"

He would never be able to eat oreos without thinking about sex again.

“Anyways, my place – Oreos, peanut butter, writing. A good time will be had by all.”

Osric paused, shrugged, and grinned in that order. "Okay," he gave in, because logic, right? He continued to follow Mr. Crusoe like he had before until they reached his home. He wondered what kind of writer needed an assistant. Or maybe she wasn't a writing assistant. Maybe she was like a cleaning maid or something. Whatever, this was an adventure. He'd make the most out of it!

[SUNNY CRUSOE]

"Um... no?"

Sunny knew that he was confusing the other man. That was alright. Sunny lived in a general feeling that he was surrounded by people who were often confused. That was fine. As long as he wasn’t the one who was confused. Well, the Oreo thing was kind of confusing, but it seemed to be confusing Osric, too, so it was something that was supposed to be confusing. That worked fine for him. As long as they were all on the same page.

Well, he really wanted Oreos now. Not the sexual kind, but the food kind. He hadn’t had anything sweet all week and he was due. Well, he thought he was due. What Tuesday the Cookie Nazi thought would be what mattered. He was one cold handed bastard when it came to the good stuff. Maybe he’d be nice because Sunny had a new friend.

Well, that was if he was real. If Tuesday couldn’t see him, then he’d have his answer. But like he’d said before, interesting people generally weren’t real.

“You know, Osric – I think that this is the start of a beautiful friendship. Or prelude to a sinking ship,” he offered with a shrug, walking along with his new companion. “Have you ever been on a ship? It’s quite the thing to see, I’ll tell you that. Do Czechs even have ships? I mean, being land-locked and all. At least, I think they’re landlocked, but so’s Iraq and they make enough trouble...”

Well, he figured that there was some research he’d have to do, but it was all semantics. Tuesday actually liked what he called ‘real work’. He was funny some days.