Chapter Text
Sweet Dreams
by katirene (XMP) and Paula (APB)
heavily based on an episode by Lawrence Hertzog
Miguel stretched his legs, matching Tim's pace and forcing the shorter members of the group to hurry to keep up. Tony was going on and on about yet another place. The guy never stopped talking. It didn't matter that his yammer got them kicked out of the last few places they'd been.
Last night of liberty. Tomorrow they'd be running around getting various things picked up, doing maintainance, last minute installation, running through the twenty-four hour count-down. But tonight was free. He glanced over at Tim. And they were stuck with spending it with these guys.
Not that there was anything wrong with Tony, Lucas or Dagwood, but let's face it, they were guys. It was annoying the way that Ari and Trey had been on the alternate liberty list this time. They'd pulled duty watches every single time that he and Tim had free, and vice versa. Like some malignant spirit was trying to keep them apart. With a quick frown, Miguel shook his head, dislodging the depressing thoughts, determined to enjoy the moment.
And there was a lot to enjoy. He gazed around him with approval, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction at the gestalt of the crowded walk ways and streets, the confusion of the hustle and bustle of people and cars. He was going to miss this. He always did. Not that you could say that it was lonely living on a sub. He snorted at the idea, sometimes it felt as though they were all living in each other's back pockets, but it was quiet, a pressure cooker for problems and worries. Somehow, the weight of the ocean seemed press upon them and make them less likely to make noise. That was probably one reason he liked to play his music at top volume.
But this, the noise and the hurry of a busy port town, this was like a concert dedicated to living. There was a certain rhythm to be found, if you were looking for it, here on the sidewalks. The neon signs, the streaking headlights, the flashes of colour. All contributed to an everchanging kaleidoscope that emphasized the music of the traffic in the city. The port loudspeakers, blaring pleas to keep the streets clean and safe, the sounds that spilled out the open doors of every store front, bar and club the five men passed, and the people passing, talking at the top of their voices. Miguel felt that tonight, he couldn't lose. If only Tony would shut up.
"Hey guys!" he announced in what Miguel thought of as his 'con man voice'. "This next place is gonna be great! And hear this, I got discount coupons."
Tim, who'd been growing increasingly out of sorts with every place they'd been to, had had enough. It was only supposed to be him, Miguel and Lucas this last night of R and R, but Lucas had asked if they could take Dagwood,and then Piccolo had horned in on them, and proceeded to take over. He leaned toward Miguel and quipped, "They must have come in his box of Solar Smacks." Turning to Tony, he added, "They come with a decoder ring, too?"
"Go ahead and joke. These ain't easy to come by," the seaman griped good naturedly back. Miguel grinned and nodded to Tim.
"Hey, you gotta eat the whole box before you get those." With a snicker Tim agreed, but Piccolo, walking ahead again, bounced back quickly.
"You know, if you guys had gills, you'd be dangerous." That made absolutely no sense to either of the two friends. Tim, with an impish grin and glance at Tony's oblivious back, immediately crossed his hands at the wrists under his throat and began opening and shutting his fingers making fishy faces at Miguel. With a shrug of his broad shoulders, the smirking Cuban joined him in the joke while Tony continued blathering unaware.
"This place is supposed to be a total blast," he said.
After a few seconds of trying to figure out why the two men were doing such an odd thing, Dagwood, decided to imitate them. Putting his hands up, he mimicked the gill movement uncertainly, looking over at the fifth member of their group for guidance, but Lucas ignored the joking. He was tired, grumpy and out of sorts, and not having any fun.
"Yeah, well, that's what you said about the last five places where we got thrown out of," he complained wearily. As the seaman twirled around to answer the complaint, Tim and Miguel dropped their hands quickly to their hips and looked around innocently.
"Yeah," Tony countered Lucas's charge, moving toward him in the back of the group, "but when we get thrown out of this place, we'll have saved big bucks." Dagwood nodded his head wisely.
"Makes sense to me," he said.
But Lucas wasn't buying the argument, he just wanted to go home. Stubbornly, he said, "Yeah, yeah. Well, I'm kinda beat. I say we just turn it in."
"Last night of R and R," Tony complained petulantly, pushing through to the front again and spinning around to face them directly. "And I'm out with a bunch of nancies."
Dagwood raised his hand, protesting, "I'm not a Nancy."
"Look, everyone I know who's been in this port says that this place is an absolute, first class, must-see and we get the must see for half the freight." They weren't buying it, but Tony knew that if he could keep them going until they got there ... He paused for a moment looking around to figure out where they were, then spotted the sign. "This is it."
It didn't look like much, just another business sandwiched in between a book store and a cafe. The neon sign simply said, "Virtual Dreams". Miguel frowned slightly, glancing at Tony. This is where they'd been heading? He'd heard about this place, too, enough to be really curious about what went on here. He glanced over at Tim, raising one eyebrow in inquiry. The communications officer shrugged back.
"Last stop, I promise." Tony added as an inducement, almost dancing in his anxiety to get inside. He could go by himself, of course, but it wouldn't be as much fun. "Then we can go home for milk and cookies, Scout's honour." He led the way inside, hoping that curiousity or inertia would lead the others to follow.
"I didn't know Tony was a boy scout," Dagwood said plaintively as he pushed through the tinsel curtain just inside the door. Miguel snorted at the thought of Piccolo helping a little old lady across the street. That wasn't his style.
The seaman strutted into the lobby, as cocky of the walk now that he had his own way. Cheekily, he announced their arrival to the girl at the turnaround, "Hey doll. Head's up. The boys from sQ are here."
Slowly, she turned her attention from the thick book she'd been reading and pushed her glasses up to better give them the once over. She was very pretty, with curly dark hair that tumbled down to her shoulders in attractive disarray, wearing a black front-laced top like an old fashioned bodice and dark tight shorts. But she seemed more interested in what she was reading than customers. Sighing with weary indifference, she peered up at them through her glasses and answered the salutation cynically. "And then my life's compleat. Forty each."
Tony held up the precious pieces of pasteboard and spread them out like playing cards, snapping them together again. "Uh, uh, uh!" he crowed. "Halfsies."
"Great. A big night out? One hundred for five." It was clear from her jaded tone of voice that she'd heard it all and was distinctly underimpressed. Miguel started pulling out his wallet, seeing Tim doing the same out of the corner of his eye. Dagwood wasn't paying the exchange any mind, more interested in playing with the tinsel strands.
"Tony," Tim complained, sounding disgusted and checking the amount he carried. "You said we didn't have to pay." But Piccolo was riding too high to be turned back now.
"Hey! Can it!" he ordered over his shoulder. "Try to delay your whining until you try it." Realizing that he was in danger of losing them, he swung around, still selling them on the treat. "Hey, I'm telling you guys, they got these electrode things they stick on your noggin. You can pretty much dream up anything on your mind."
More than a bit bugged with that crack at Tim, but definately interested now, Miguel turned to the bored cashier. "I'm not so sure you should let him in here," he warned her facietiously, grabbing the excited man's chin and pointing it at her. "This mind has been know to do great damage." Tony shook his head out of Miguel's grip.
"He's just jealous," he assured the girl, who really couldn't care less. Pointing to Dagwood, draping the flowing silver strands of the curtain over his shoulder at the door, Tony continued, "What about him? Got any kid's discounts?"
The girl looked mildly interested by this question. She craned her head around to give the dagger a closer look. "Pretty big kid." Miguel thought that she sounded uncertain, as if she wasn't quite sure what he was.
"He eats well," Piccolo assured her.
Tired of the banter, she shrugged. "Look, it's the same for everyone. Even for high rollers with discounts. Twenty each." Her voice made it clear that it was a take it or leave it situation and she didn't particularly care which. Dagwood looked vaguely distressed by this. Knowing that,as a janitor, he didn't make the same kind of money as the rest of them, Miguel checked his funds again to see if he could handle it as well, but Tony, the card shark who got most of their spare cash, got there first.
"Ok, Buddy. I'll spot you." As they put their money down, the girl told them that instructions were included with the equipment and they had thirty minutes. Tony was the first one through, of course, then Tim, still looking mildly disgruntled, followed. As Miguel pushed his way through the hanging silver strands, he heard the girl wish Dagwood a nice daydream, and the gentle giant's puzzled response that it was night.
Then he was through the curtain in a dark hallway with openings on either side. Taking the one next to Tony, maybe not the brightest idea, but the clock was ticking, MIguel settled into a seat in what appeared to be a private movie theatre, designed for just one person. He picked up the electrodes, examining them briefly before reading through the instructions, and then fit them over his temples. Leaning back in the chair, trying to get comfortable, he decided to indulge in one of his favorite daydreams. He was a Calvary General of the American Confederate Army going to a Cotillion Ball in Charlottesville, Virginia, early years of the American War between the States.
Part 2