Title:  Commute
Author:  starlastumbleine
Feedback:  starlastumbleine@yahoo.com
Fandom:  View Askew
Pairing:  Donno if there is one.
Rating:  Decidedly PG-13.
Series:  Doubt it.
Disclaimer:  I don't own the characters or the vehicle
or profit from any of them.
Note:  This is nothing much.  Just to help with the
X-Mas of the Beast.  I was looking for something to
write, for something to get me back into the swing of
writing.  I looked for a writing challenge community
and read this:  write your characters in a parked car.

x x x x x x

Jay swallowed, sounding nervous.

"Well.  Well, I like it."

And Silent Bob nodded, confidently.  Confidently.

He tried his hands, to the steering wheel again, not
sure his seat was scooted up enough, and nodded. 
Fine.

His hands fell back down, left on the door, right on
the armrest.  And still, Jay sat calmly with his hands
in his lap.  No inspecting the glove compartment, no
counting the cup holders.  He even had his seat belt
on.  Hands in his lap.  Fingers twiddling together. 
Cracking this knuckle or that.  But quietly.  And with
little movement.

With his wide smile still on, he turned his head to
the boy and nodded.  Jay turned his head in kind, and
flashed a smile back.  But briefly.  And faced forward
again.

This is when Silent Bob's face finally fell.  Well, he
did *enjoy* the Eclipse.  It was a nice, small, zoomy
car.  It was white.  A simple, white car with a dark
interior.  Nothing special, simple and used.  5,400
miles on it.  The previous owner had gone to work
close.  It was used to snow.  It was used to short
drives.  No damage but a tiny vertical fold near the
front, right tire where a bike had turned into it only
months ago.

It would not be cheap, but the payments weren't
murder.  Bob's credit was good, at least, and Jay
didn't have a license, so they wouldn't even have to
put him on the insurance.

And then, with the smallest of sighs, Jay resigned
himself, and resignation was no good for Bob.

"what?" was all he asked, knowing he wouldn't get a
blow-off answer, knowing that, after a half hour of
sitting in this car, with no keys, feeling the door
panel, smelling the factory-fresh air, it was time for
Jay to be straight with him, even if he didn't agree,
or didn't want to know 'what.'

"I -" he turned, smiled at Bob, "- I hate it."

Neutral.  No frown.  Just a nod, just be
understanding.  So, why?

Jay turned back, staring out the window.  He ran a
finger down the plastic paneling, curved it over the
door lock and around the window control.  "It's nice. 
I do like it.  It'd be cool to finally have a car,
man.  Finally, maybe, like, go down the coast for
summer or something, but get fuckin' real, man.  I
won't drive it.  I don't even want to *be* in it with
the shit I'm carrying in my pockets.  We get pulled
over, it's a fucking felony charge or two on top of
whatever we rack up on the road."  He sighed again,
heavier this time.  "The bills, the," he sneered,
"*insurance.*  I won't drive it." he repeated.

Bob shrugged.  He could get a license.  They could
take the bus when they went out on business.  They
didn't have to carry all the time.  His eyes focused
back on Jay, whose "not fucking likely" expression he
had not expected so,... clearly.

Well, then.

"I hate it.  No, I mean it's okay, I just-"

Bob began to shake his head firmly.  It was fine, no
excuse needed.

"I'D JUST LIKE-" Jay started to shout, trying to
override the silent repression in the next seat, "to
keep my fucking time with you!"

Bob stopped all movement, stopped trying to unbuckle,
stopped reaching for the door handle, just stopped and
stared at Jay, his hands curled in mid-air, his
shoulders hunched, his eyes squeezed tight.

"I know.  I know."  Jay visibly calmed.  Put his hands
in his lap again and stared down at them.  "I know
it's less time here to there.  I know it's less time
than waiting for the bus.  I know we can go farther,
we don't have to call up our peeps for our rides. 
But."

He turned back around to Bob, the cutest fuckin' quirk
in his lips, the damnedest love in his eyes.  "I get
twenty minutes to myself every day, no phone, no
peeps, no TV, no music, no mall.  Just Bob."

Slowly, the bigger man nodded.  Okay.

"Okay."  Jay responded.  He unbuckled his seatbelt.

They walked home.

.end.
Jay's holding out for a Ducati 620