Angst – Fünf vor zwöf (Für's Team)
Sep. 30th, 2023 12:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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120_minutenTitel: A Drink
Team: Machine
Challenge: Angst – Fünf vor zwöf (Für's Team)
Fandom: Narcos
Charactere: Javier Peña, Horacio Carrillo
Sprache: Englisch
Wörter: 900
Kommentar: Okay, so langsam hab ich die beiden vielleicht raus.
Carrillo pours himself another glass of whiskey.
A Drink
Carrillo pours himself another glass of whiskey. He watches the amber liquid as he swirls it around before taking a sip. The alcohol burns all the way down his throat.
It’s not particularly good whiskey. The good whiskey is reserved for celebrations, for entertaining guests or for a leisurely evening at home. This is the bottle he keeps in the bottom drawer of his desk, the one he pulls out on evenings like this, when the hours tick by as he listens to tape after tape of wiretap recordings, when he needs to take the edge off and cigarettes no longer do.
He sits up in his chair and tilts his head from side to side, trying to ease the tension in his neck. He’s hungry, having skipped dinner because he had been too engrossed in his work, and tired, but too wired to go home and sleep. When he looks up, the clock over the door reads five minutes before midnight.
It seems appropriate because that’s how he feels: Like time is slipping through his fingers. Every day wasted means more lives lost, and one day closer for Escobar to some kind of deal with the government. It’s only a matter of time before they cave, Carrillo can practically taste it in the air. But he won’t be satisfied with any kind of prison sentence, however long it may be. The only good outcome to this is Escobar’s dead body.
So he works overtime. He’s the first to arrive in the morning and the last to leave, but his resources are limited and there’s only so much intel he can squeeze from these recordings. He’s gotten to know the voices of most of Escobar’s important men, and he keeps a notebook full of the code words they use when they talk to each other. And yet he’s always a step behind, always a bit too late to close the noose around Escobar’s neck.
He's pulled out of his thoughts when he hears steps moving down the corridor. The guard usually knows better than to bother him, so his hand automatically goes to the drawer where he keeps his handgun.
But when the door swings open, it’s Javi’s silhouette that’s illuminated by a distant hallway light. “I thought you might still be here”, he says.
Carrillo puts his hand back onto the desk and relaxes his shoulders. He’s surprised to see him. Not surprised that he’s still awake, for all he knows Javi goes to bed later than he does (and then shows up the next morning tired and hungover), but surprised to see him here at this hour.
“Something you need?” he asks, but Javi shakes his head.
“Just came to check on you.”
He raises an eyebrow at that, and takes another sip of whiskey for good measure. He doesn’t offer Javi a glass, but Javi sits down across from him and pours himself one anyway. He raises the glass in salute before tipping it back and emptying it in two quick gulps.
“You should go home”, he says. “It won’t do us any good when the leader of this investigation drops dead because he overworked himself.”
Carrillo can feel himself bristle. He doesn’t need anyone to nanny him, least of all Javi, who can barely take care of himself. “There’s still work to be done.”
“You didn’t miss anything the first three times you listened to it”, Javi says, and Carrillo feels like he’s been caught red-handed. To cover his reaction, he lights himself another cigarette, and, feeling generous, hands the lighter over so Javi can do the same.
For a moment silence fills the room with the smoke, but it’s a comfortable silence. Javi watches as Carrillo clears away the whiskey and then brings order into the stack of files he keeps at the corner of his desk for tomorrow. Finally he says: “If you don’t want to go home, come and have a drink with me.”
Carrillo gives him a look over the folder he’s holding, and Javi clarifies: “A real drink.”
His gaze is pulled to the tape recorder still sitting on his desk. He can feel the urge to rewind the tape one more time and try again, but he also knows that this is starting to become a waste of time. His head is too full of thoughts to make meaningful connections anyway.
He sighs out smoke into the air. “Fine.” Busying himself with the recorder so he doesn’t have to see Javi’s smug face, he puts the tape back into the row of other neatly labelled tapes in the shelf behind him, before picking up his belongings.
He takes a moment to roll his shoulders after getting up, trying to relax his back that’s protesting after hours of sitting. He can feel Javi’s gaze on him, but doesn’t acknowledge it.
When he finally locks the door of his office behind them, he looks at Javi and asks: “Are you happy now?”
Javi gives him an easy grin and falls into step with him as they walk down the corridor. “Pretty much.”
They spend the next few hours at one of Javi’s favorite dive bar, drinking and smoking and talking about everything and nothing in particular, except for work. Neither of them gets much sleep, but when Carrillo gets back into the office the next morning, he feels strangely relaxed.
Maybe there’s something to be said for Javi’s lifestyle after all.
Team: Machine
Challenge: Angst – Fünf vor zwöf (Für's Team)
Fandom: Narcos
Charactere: Javier Peña, Horacio Carrillo
Sprache: Englisch
Wörter: 900
Kommentar: Okay, so langsam hab ich die beiden vielleicht raus.
Carrillo pours himself another glass of whiskey.
A Drink
Carrillo pours himself another glass of whiskey. He watches the amber liquid as he swirls it around before taking a sip. The alcohol burns all the way down his throat.
It’s not particularly good whiskey. The good whiskey is reserved for celebrations, for entertaining guests or for a leisurely evening at home. This is the bottle he keeps in the bottom drawer of his desk, the one he pulls out on evenings like this, when the hours tick by as he listens to tape after tape of wiretap recordings, when he needs to take the edge off and cigarettes no longer do.
He sits up in his chair and tilts his head from side to side, trying to ease the tension in his neck. He’s hungry, having skipped dinner because he had been too engrossed in his work, and tired, but too wired to go home and sleep. When he looks up, the clock over the door reads five minutes before midnight.
It seems appropriate because that’s how he feels: Like time is slipping through his fingers. Every day wasted means more lives lost, and one day closer for Escobar to some kind of deal with the government. It’s only a matter of time before they cave, Carrillo can practically taste it in the air. But he won’t be satisfied with any kind of prison sentence, however long it may be. The only good outcome to this is Escobar’s dead body.
So he works overtime. He’s the first to arrive in the morning and the last to leave, but his resources are limited and there’s only so much intel he can squeeze from these recordings. He’s gotten to know the voices of most of Escobar’s important men, and he keeps a notebook full of the code words they use when they talk to each other. And yet he’s always a step behind, always a bit too late to close the noose around Escobar’s neck.
He's pulled out of his thoughts when he hears steps moving down the corridor. The guard usually knows better than to bother him, so his hand automatically goes to the drawer where he keeps his handgun.
But when the door swings open, it’s Javi’s silhouette that’s illuminated by a distant hallway light. “I thought you might still be here”, he says.
Carrillo puts his hand back onto the desk and relaxes his shoulders. He’s surprised to see him. Not surprised that he’s still awake, for all he knows Javi goes to bed later than he does (and then shows up the next morning tired and hungover), but surprised to see him here at this hour.
“Something you need?” he asks, but Javi shakes his head.
“Just came to check on you.”
He raises an eyebrow at that, and takes another sip of whiskey for good measure. He doesn’t offer Javi a glass, but Javi sits down across from him and pours himself one anyway. He raises the glass in salute before tipping it back and emptying it in two quick gulps.
“You should go home”, he says. “It won’t do us any good when the leader of this investigation drops dead because he overworked himself.”
Carrillo can feel himself bristle. He doesn’t need anyone to nanny him, least of all Javi, who can barely take care of himself. “There’s still work to be done.”
“You didn’t miss anything the first three times you listened to it”, Javi says, and Carrillo feels like he’s been caught red-handed. To cover his reaction, he lights himself another cigarette, and, feeling generous, hands the lighter over so Javi can do the same.
For a moment silence fills the room with the smoke, but it’s a comfortable silence. Javi watches as Carrillo clears away the whiskey and then brings order into the stack of files he keeps at the corner of his desk for tomorrow. Finally he says: “If you don’t want to go home, come and have a drink with me.”
Carrillo gives him a look over the folder he’s holding, and Javi clarifies: “A real drink.”
His gaze is pulled to the tape recorder still sitting on his desk. He can feel the urge to rewind the tape one more time and try again, but he also knows that this is starting to become a waste of time. His head is too full of thoughts to make meaningful connections anyway.
He sighs out smoke into the air. “Fine.” Busying himself with the recorder so he doesn’t have to see Javi’s smug face, he puts the tape back into the row of other neatly labelled tapes in the shelf behind him, before picking up his belongings.
He takes a moment to roll his shoulders after getting up, trying to relax his back that’s protesting after hours of sitting. He can feel Javi’s gaze on him, but doesn’t acknowledge it.
When he finally locks the door of his office behind them, he looks at Javi and asks: “Are you happy now?”
Javi gives him an easy grin and falls into step with him as they walk down the corridor. “Pretty much.”
They spend the next few hours at one of Javi’s favorite dive bar, drinking and smoking and talking about everything and nothing in particular, except for work. Neither of them gets much sleep, but when Carrillo gets back into the office the next morning, he feels strangely relaxed.
Maybe there’s something to be said for Javi’s lifestyle after all.
no subject
Date: 2023-09-30 12:50 pm (UTC)Und dass es ein "gutes" Ende hat (es löst nichts, aber es hilft, damn it).
Und
Carrillo gives him a look over the folder he’s holding, and Javi clarifies: “A real drink.”
Wundervoll. <3
no subject
Date: 2023-10-04 06:15 pm (UTC)Ich mag ihre Dynamik hier irgendwie, es ist so viel unausgesprochenes dabei?? Aber vielleicht existiert das auch nur in meinem Kopf.