Jul. 28th, 2012

tibetanmethod: (fidelity -- bravery -- integrity)
Friday dawns clear. Over his morning donut and cup of coffee, Cooper broods over the forecast. The paper calls for a chilly night, but no precipitation. That's good. That's very good.

Lunch at the Double R sees Hawk giving Cooper the side-eye at his uncharacteristic silence, but Cooper doesn't offer an explanation, and Hawk doesn't ask.

Friday afternoon is where things go to hell. A group of carnies drinking at the Roadhouse starts something with a subset of the town's biker club -- a subset that's not affiliated with the Bookhouse Boys. Cooper is the closest unit when Hawk calls in a 76. The tilt-a-whirl mechanic lands a punch on Cooper's face before Hawk takes him down.

And before they take a couple of carnies to the lockup, Hawk disappears into the Roadhouse's kitchen and reappears with a bag of frozen peas. "For your face," Hawk says.

Cooper sighs.



When he appears on Moiraine's doorstep at the appointed hour, it's in a pressed suit, tieless (because he knows he can't look like anything but a g-man, in a suit and tie), with a bunch of blue irises in one hand.

And a hell of a shiner starting up under his left eye.

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