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jedibuttercupT; Normal (2025)/The Last Stand (2013). Post-canon; 1400 words, for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bethefirst.
Sommerton Junction had seemed like the perfect opportunity for a pair of interim law enforcement officers looking for their next assignment.
Title: Small Town Charms
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: Post-movie for Normal (2025) and The Last Stand (2013).
Notes: Because I was strangely charmed by the main characters of last year's small town action thriller, Normal, and it amused me to imagine them walking onto the set of a slightly older comedic small town action thriller. Absent any pre-existing fandom, here I am yet again, making my own fun. :)
Sommerton Junction had seemed like the perfect opportunity for a pair of interim law enforcement officers looking for their next assignment. 1400 words.
Ulysses' term in Placid Shores, Texas, had lasted for almost twelve weeks; not the longest stretch he'd ever served as interim sheriff, but certainly not the shortest either. And probably his favorite reason for being brought in to wear the title for a while: one more life brought into the world rather than one taken away.
It had made for a very refreshing break from all the snow and the gunfire. And a lucky break too, as he'd probably have missed the assignment if he'd stayed in Normal, Minnesota, for the original eight weeks he'd been invited for. Or longer, six feet under or otherwise, the way he'd been afraid he would there for a while. There'd been a moment, standing in the kitchen of the town's main restaurant staring down at the body of a Yakuza soldier while the last echoes of gunfire from the dining room faded away, that he'd been sure he was going to be goddamn trapped there as the last member of government-- however temporary-- standing, left to explain all the mess to the inevitable state or federal investigation. Luckily, both Alex and Blaine had also survived the shootout, and Blaine had been drunk enough on survival and adrenaline to take the damn star when he'd handed it to him rather than deciding to leave Ulysses stuck with it and run for replacement mayor instead.
How many people could say they'd walked away from a Yakuza operation with all their fingers intact and a nice bonus sitting in their bank account for the small price of one week's stay in a very hostile small town and a few dramatic new scars? Ulysses had even got a protégé of sorts out of the deal; Normal's loss, his and Alex's gain. The kid could have done anything with their share of the 'go away and keep your mouth shut' money, but they'd decided they wanted to honor their dad and stay a deputy given the chance, and like hell was Ulysses going to be one more person telling them 'no, you're not good enough for me'.
So that was his life now. Solid backup, instead of drifting alone between jobs. His wife actually talking to him again, even planning a visit in a couple of weeks to see if it was any easier being around each other now that he was finally starting to get his feet back under him. And another warm job to succeed the one in Texas: in Arizona this time, just about as far south as you could get in the state without crossing the border into Mexico. The previous sheriff had finally retired just in time to endorse his favorite deputy… who happened to be married to her favorite deputy and on the verge of producing Sommerton Junction's newest citizen. It had seemed like the perfect opportunity for a pair of interim law enforcement officers looking for their next assignment.
So far, the only thing to disturb that impression had been the food at the small town's main café. Not a red flag exactly, but maybe a papaya-colored one. Ray's omelets were definitely up there with Ernie's meatloaf, and in Ulysses' recent experience, quality that high ended up being compensated for somewhere.
He set his fork down on the counter of the café, patting his stomach, and gave the cook a wry smile. "I can definitely see why that was Sheriff Owens' favorite. We're going to have to ration ourselves if we don't want to leave here a lot slower than we arrived."
"Speak for yourself," Alex chipped in with an amused snort, mopping up the last of their own omelet with a triangle of toast. "I'll just have to add a few miles to my runs while we're here. More than worth it."
"I guess that's one way to patrol the town," the cook replied good-naturedly, reaching out to take Ulysses' empty plate. "Just make sure'n take a pair of earplugs along if you go by Dinkum's place on the weekend."
"Earplugs?" Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Dinkum's place?" Ulysses frowned, thumbing through the mental notes he'd been assembling since they arrived. "Is that the, what was it, Firearm and Historic Weapons Museum? Sheriff Torrence-Martinez mentioned there's some kind of exhibition there on a regular basis. Is that what you mean? She said she wanted to make sure we know the neighbors are all aware, so there's no need to let 'em file any new noise complaints unless it's outside of business hours."
An explosive snort echoed from somewhere behind them in the main seating area of the café. "Museum exhibition, sure. Is that what they're calling it these days?"
Ulysses turned to see a pair of local citizens sitting in one of the booths, dressed for working out-of-doors. Maybe a couple, maybe co-workers, maybe relatives; he wasn't acquainted with all the faces in town yet, but the man and woman were definitely on familiar terms. "Now, no need to bother the interim sheriff with the local color," the guy said, making a shushing gesture. "Owens always made sure Dinkum's up on his permits; if he says it's an exhibition, it's an exhibition."
Ulysses exchanged a wary glance with Alex. "Well, now I'm curious," he addressed the pair. "What would you call it, if not a museum exhibition?"
The woman scowled at her dining companion, but apparently decided she'd cast enough shade already, tempering her criticism with a shrug and wry twist of mouth in Ulysses' direction. "Never mind. Boys and their old-school toys. I just think it's kind of ridiculous he has the rest of the deputies over there shattering the peace every weekend when his 'museum' is only officially open one afternoon a month. Speaking of 'business hours.'"
Pretty damn suspicious business hours, Ulysses agreed, thinking of 'old-school stump removers' and a whole sheriff's department bowing to a Japanese bank guard and calling him 'Mr. Joe'. Dinkum was no more ridiculous a name for a criminal mastermind, honestly.
But then again, Sommerton Junction was a very small town. The nature of social consensus among large groups of people meant big towns tended to operate by rules familiar enough to outsiders; but among a far smaller population? One thing his new transient career had made clear to him even before his week in Normal was that one or two odd apples with enough charisma in a small-enough barrel could very quickly produce a significant skew. Best not to make assumptions absent corroborating evidence.
"Well then," he said, gesturing with his coffee cup toward his temporary constituents. "We appreciate the heads up. You have yourselves a good morning, now."
"You too, Sheriff. Deputy," they replied, sketching similar breakfast salutes.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Alex murmured as they walked out of the café a few minutes later.
"Cheer up. It really might be," Ulysses said, shrugging. "Just because your experience as a deputy is fifty-fifty so far, that doesn't mean the toast is guaranteed to fall butter-side down this time."
Alex gave him a skeptical look. "Do you really believe that?"
"Eh, eighty-twenty," Ulysses replied, smiling back at them. "The sun is shining, I just had an excellent omelet, and this town doesn't even have a bank. Whatever's going on here, they're not even halfway trying to hide it, so maybe we can save the pessimism until we've seen one of those exhibitions for ourselves."
Alex stared at him a moment longer, then shook their head and relaxed into a smile. "You know, they said you were a light touch when they hired you for the job in Normal. But you never really were, were you? You're a pragmatist. Hope for the best, but react to what's in front of you."
"Gotta play the hand that's been dealt," Ulysses shrugged. "Of course, that doesn't mean you gotta follow the prevailing rules."
Then he turned and headed for their temporary office, humming under his breath. Penny had emailed a copy of her airline confirmation that morning; he'd have to drive up to Albuquerque to pick her up, but he'd been informed there was a very nice local bed and breakfast out at 'the old Parsons place'. Not that he wasn't used to cheap motels by now, but that would make for a nice change.
"Amen," Alex agreed, then followed along, turning their face up to the warmth of the morning sun.
(x-posted @ AO3)
bethefirst.Sommerton Junction had seemed like the perfect opportunity for a pair of interim law enforcement officers looking for their next assignment.
Title: Small Town Charms
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: Post-movie for Normal (2025) and The Last Stand (2013).
Notes: Because I was strangely charmed by the main characters of last year's small town action thriller, Normal, and it amused me to imagine them walking onto the set of a slightly older comedic small town action thriller. Absent any pre-existing fandom, here I am yet again, making my own fun. :)
Sommerton Junction had seemed like the perfect opportunity for a pair of interim law enforcement officers looking for their next assignment. 1400 words.
Ulysses' term in Placid Shores, Texas, had lasted for almost twelve weeks; not the longest stretch he'd ever served as interim sheriff, but certainly not the shortest either. And probably his favorite reason for being brought in to wear the title for a while: one more life brought into the world rather than one taken away.
It had made for a very refreshing break from all the snow and the gunfire. And a lucky break too, as he'd probably have missed the assignment if he'd stayed in Normal, Minnesota, for the original eight weeks he'd been invited for. Or longer, six feet under or otherwise, the way he'd been afraid he would there for a while. There'd been a moment, standing in the kitchen of the town's main restaurant staring down at the body of a Yakuza soldier while the last echoes of gunfire from the dining room faded away, that he'd been sure he was going to be goddamn trapped there as the last member of government-- however temporary-- standing, left to explain all the mess to the inevitable state or federal investigation. Luckily, both Alex and Blaine had also survived the shootout, and Blaine had been drunk enough on survival and adrenaline to take the damn star when he'd handed it to him rather than deciding to leave Ulysses stuck with it and run for replacement mayor instead.
How many people could say they'd walked away from a Yakuza operation with all their fingers intact and a nice bonus sitting in their bank account for the small price of one week's stay in a very hostile small town and a few dramatic new scars? Ulysses had even got a protégé of sorts out of the deal; Normal's loss, his and Alex's gain. The kid could have done anything with their share of the 'go away and keep your mouth shut' money, but they'd decided they wanted to honor their dad and stay a deputy given the chance, and like hell was Ulysses going to be one more person telling them 'no, you're not good enough for me'.
So that was his life now. Solid backup, instead of drifting alone between jobs. His wife actually talking to him again, even planning a visit in a couple of weeks to see if it was any easier being around each other now that he was finally starting to get his feet back under him. And another warm job to succeed the one in Texas: in Arizona this time, just about as far south as you could get in the state without crossing the border into Mexico. The previous sheriff had finally retired just in time to endorse his favorite deputy… who happened to be married to her favorite deputy and on the verge of producing Sommerton Junction's newest citizen. It had seemed like the perfect opportunity for a pair of interim law enforcement officers looking for their next assignment.
So far, the only thing to disturb that impression had been the food at the small town's main café. Not a red flag exactly, but maybe a papaya-colored one. Ray's omelets were definitely up there with Ernie's meatloaf, and in Ulysses' recent experience, quality that high ended up being compensated for somewhere.
He set his fork down on the counter of the café, patting his stomach, and gave the cook a wry smile. "I can definitely see why that was Sheriff Owens' favorite. We're going to have to ration ourselves if we don't want to leave here a lot slower than we arrived."
"Speak for yourself," Alex chipped in with an amused snort, mopping up the last of their own omelet with a triangle of toast. "I'll just have to add a few miles to my runs while we're here. More than worth it."
"I guess that's one way to patrol the town," the cook replied good-naturedly, reaching out to take Ulysses' empty plate. "Just make sure'n take a pair of earplugs along if you go by Dinkum's place on the weekend."
"Earplugs?" Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Dinkum's place?" Ulysses frowned, thumbing through the mental notes he'd been assembling since they arrived. "Is that the, what was it, Firearm and Historic Weapons Museum? Sheriff Torrence-Martinez mentioned there's some kind of exhibition there on a regular basis. Is that what you mean? She said she wanted to make sure we know the neighbors are all aware, so there's no need to let 'em file any new noise complaints unless it's outside of business hours."
An explosive snort echoed from somewhere behind them in the main seating area of the café. "Museum exhibition, sure. Is that what they're calling it these days?"
Ulysses turned to see a pair of local citizens sitting in one of the booths, dressed for working out-of-doors. Maybe a couple, maybe co-workers, maybe relatives; he wasn't acquainted with all the faces in town yet, but the man and woman were definitely on familiar terms. "Now, no need to bother the interim sheriff with the local color," the guy said, making a shushing gesture. "Owens always made sure Dinkum's up on his permits; if he says it's an exhibition, it's an exhibition."
Ulysses exchanged a wary glance with Alex. "Well, now I'm curious," he addressed the pair. "What would you call it, if not a museum exhibition?"
The woman scowled at her dining companion, but apparently decided she'd cast enough shade already, tempering her criticism with a shrug and wry twist of mouth in Ulysses' direction. "Never mind. Boys and their old-school toys. I just think it's kind of ridiculous he has the rest of the deputies over there shattering the peace every weekend when his 'museum' is only officially open one afternoon a month. Speaking of 'business hours.'"
Pretty damn suspicious business hours, Ulysses agreed, thinking of 'old-school stump removers' and a whole sheriff's department bowing to a Japanese bank guard and calling him 'Mr. Joe'. Dinkum was no more ridiculous a name for a criminal mastermind, honestly.
But then again, Sommerton Junction was a very small town. The nature of social consensus among large groups of people meant big towns tended to operate by rules familiar enough to outsiders; but among a far smaller population? One thing his new transient career had made clear to him even before his week in Normal was that one or two odd apples with enough charisma in a small-enough barrel could very quickly produce a significant skew. Best not to make assumptions absent corroborating evidence.
"Well then," he said, gesturing with his coffee cup toward his temporary constituents. "We appreciate the heads up. You have yourselves a good morning, now."
"You too, Sheriff. Deputy," they replied, sketching similar breakfast salutes.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Alex murmured as they walked out of the café a few minutes later.
"Cheer up. It really might be," Ulysses said, shrugging. "Just because your experience as a deputy is fifty-fifty so far, that doesn't mean the toast is guaranteed to fall butter-side down this time."
Alex gave him a skeptical look. "Do you really believe that?"
"Eh, eighty-twenty," Ulysses replied, smiling back at them. "The sun is shining, I just had an excellent omelet, and this town doesn't even have a bank. Whatever's going on here, they're not even halfway trying to hide it, so maybe we can save the pessimism until we've seen one of those exhibitions for ourselves."
Alex stared at him a moment longer, then shook their head and relaxed into a smile. "You know, they said you were a light touch when they hired you for the job in Normal. But you never really were, were you? You're a pragmatist. Hope for the best, but react to what's in front of you."
"Gotta play the hand that's been dealt," Ulysses shrugged. "Of course, that doesn't mean you gotta follow the prevailing rules."
Then he turned and headed for their temporary office, humming under his breath. Penny had emailed a copy of her airline confirmation that morning; he'd have to drive up to Albuquerque to pick her up, but he'd been informed there was a very nice local bed and breakfast out at 'the old Parsons place'. Not that he wasn't used to cheap motels by now, but that would make for a nice change.
"Amen," Alex agreed, then followed along, turning their face up to the warmth of the morning sun.
(x-posted @ AO3)
