bedlamsbard | drabble #4 (for mentalhygiene)

Rizzo skidded down the bank toward the dark shape of OC, sitting alone with a six-pack beside him and his back to the street. "You're gonna get mugged."

"Good," OC said. "I could use a fight. I need to hit something." He took a swig from the can he was holding.

"You're not glad it's over?"

OC turned a pointed glare diluted slightly by alcohol on him. "I need to hit something," he said pointedly.

"And poor you, Mac's halfway to the other side of the country."

"Shaddup."

Rizzo held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not the one out here brooding."

"Jimmy send you after me, or was it Silky?"

"Silky's chatting up some girl, and Jimmy's out of town talking contracts with Colorado."

"Colorado," OC snorted. "One gold and we're the most wanted icers in America. I need a drink."

Rizzo glanced down. "You've got --"

"And a fight and a fuck."

"I'm not volunteering."

"Never said you were." OC tossed the can away. Rizzo heard it splash into the water. "Christ, I even miss Norway. You remember Norway?"

"Vividly."

"You know Herb roomed Mac and me together the entire tour?"

"Kinda hard to forget," Rizzo said. "Buzzy and I were usually next door."

"That bad, huh?"

"St. Louis? Bah came in to breakfast bitching about it, and he and Rammer were at the other end of the hallway."

"Good," OC said. "At least someone else had a sleepless night too."

"Only if by 'someone else' you mean the whole team."

I think my characterization is shot to hell; it's been too long since the last time I wrote Miracle.