[November 8th] [The Rockford Files-related] Chronicles of a Friendship, 8

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: Chronicles of a Friendship, scene 8
Day/Theme: November 8th - Journey to Tomorrow
Series: The Rockford Files (using characters from The Queen of Peru episode)
Character/Pairing: Ginger Townsend, Lou Trevino, Mike Trevino, Mr. and Mrs. Trevino
Rating: K/G

Continuing the mini-arc.

The Syl character mentioned is another character played by Lou's actor Luke Andreas. He and his friend Anthony Gagglio appear in three Rockford episodes: To Protect and Serve, Parts 1 and 2, and The Man Who Saw the Alligators.


By Lucky_Ladybug

It had been a long and exhausting day, just as Lou had known it would be. He and Ginger had both been questioned extensively at the police station, and Lou wasn’t entirely sure they believed that Ginger had been aware that Lou was alive and had gone to rescue him, but there was nothing they could do to prove otherwise. After they had signed their statements, Lou and Ginger had been allowed to leave.

Their experience with Mr. Stanley at the company had been much less extensive and much more pleasant. He had been both stunned and delighted that Lou was alive, and more than willing to ensure that he kept his job. “I was wondering how I’d ever find someone even half as good to replace you,” he remarked. “Not to mention someone with whom Ginger would have half as good a rapport. The fact that you two work so well together is no doubt a large part of why your work is so good.”

Lou could believe that. And while he knew that Ginger would have been very professional with a replacement, he would have also been completely cold. The work would have indeed suffered, as well as Ginger (and perhaps the replacement).

It was nearing evening by the time they stepped out of the Fragmented Triangle company building. Lou sighed, idly glancing up and down the street. It was after Halloween and before Thanksgiving, and already there were occasional signs of Christmas everywhere.

Not the least of which was the bit of snow in the city. Most had melted by now, of course, but here and there a small patch of white could be seen.

Ginger pulled his coat closer around himself without actually putting his arms through the sleeves. He did not speak, but he was looking at the snow and Christmas decorations, and Lou could imagine that he was thinking of the holiday season and how dreary it would have been the way he had thought it would be less than twenty-four hours ago. Not that Ginger was much for celebrating holidays, but Lou knew that it had meant a lot to Ginger to share them with Lou.

“Well,” Lou said, “we’d better get home. Mom’s probably already there, making dinner.”

“You mean Michael probably let her in with his key,” Ginger grunted.

“Yeah.” Lou went to the car, parked at the curb in front of the building. Unlocking the doors, he went around to the driver’s side while Ginger climbed into the passenger seat.

Ginger pulled down the seatbelt as Lou started the engine. “Does it bother you, to think of someone else using our kitchen?” he wondered.

“I guess it might in some cases,” Lou mused, “but not when it’s Mom. Hey, most of what I learned about food and cooking, I learned from her, after all.”

Ginger nodded. He didn’t generally like when others used his belongings, but he made exceptions for Lou. He hadn’t really liked when his parents had tried to figure out his laptop, but then again, neither of them had been terribly tech-savvy. He had been concerned that they would damage it in the process of their curious, well-meaning examinations.

In Lou’s case, it sounded much less frustrating. Nevertheless, Ginger wondered if there would still be some exasperating things, such as the food and utensils not being put away in the same order and becoming difficult to find. He liked organization and didn’t like when things were mixed up. But he wouldn’t be as bothered by confusion in the kitchen, since he usually left fixing food up to Lou.

“Hey, Ginger,” Lou suddenly said, “what did you do about food the last few days?”

Ginger stared out the window. “I mostly ate out,” he said flatly. “I can prepare meals if I have to, but I didn’t want to spend much time in the kitchen. It hurt too much.”

Lou nodded sadly, again sickened and furious over how Ginger and his other family members had suffered.

“What about you?” Ginger asked abruptly. “Did they feed you?”

“A little,” Lou said. “Barely enough to keep me going.”

“I didn’t think they’d be interested in allowing you complete meals.” Ginger clenched a fist. “What even was it they thought you knew?”

“I’m not sure,” Lou said helplessly. Suddenly his eyes widened. “Oh no . . . I wonder if they thought I was Syl.”

“Your cousin? Why would they think that?” Ginger frowned. “Just because you look similar? Surely they’ve done enough research on the both of you to know which of you is which.”

“You’d think so,” Lou remarked. “Syl’s grown a mustache lately, too, so we don’t even look so much alike anymore. But maybe they mixed us up anyway. Syl’s had connections with the Mob for years. You know his best friend, Anthony Gagglio, was a hitman. Syl probably knows a lot of dangerous things.”

Ginger nodded. “I suppose a mix-up is possible,” he acknowledged.

“Poor Syl.” Lou looked worried now. “I’d better call him as soon as we get home and warn him.”

“All of those people are either captured or dead,” Ginger pointed out. “There’s no one left to go after him.” He narrowed his eyes. “Unless you believe there’s more where they came from.”

“There could be,” Lou said. “I’m not taking any chances.”

“You shouldn’t,” Ginger agreed. “And we’d best stay alert ourselves, just in case any more of them come after us.”

Lou nodded in concern.
****
Mike was standing outside on the porch of Lou and Ginger’s house, gazing off into the distance.

Nothing could have shocked him more than when his phone had rung early that morning and he had heard his dead brother’s voice on the other end. Only Lou wasn’t dead; he was alive and well.

Mike hadn’t really believed it until he had arrived at the house and Lou had answered the door. On the drive there, Mike had run through all manner of other possibilities in his mind—that he had been dreaming or that someone was playing an absolutely horrible, cruel trick—but then he had seen that he was entirely wrong.

He had never been so happy to be wrong in all his life.

He perked up as the familiar blue car turned into the driveway and parked. “Lou!” he called. “How were things in town?”

Lou got out and looked over. “Hey, Mike. They weren’t too bad. How are things here?”

“Pretty good, I guess. Mom’s almost got dinner ready.”

Lou smiled. “That’s good. Say, did you hear anything from Syl?”

Mike blinked. Lou seemed agitated. “Syl doesn’t usually call. I heard from him a few days ago, when we first thought you were dead, but nothing since.”

Lou and Ginger started to head for the porch. “Have you told him I’m alive yet?” Lou wondered.

“We tried, but we can’t get through. He must be out for the day.” Mike stepped back as Ginger and Lou reached the porch. “Is something wrong?”

“I hope not,” Lou replied. “I’m going to call Lieutenant Drumm and ask him a few things. Then I’ll try calling Syl.” He laid a hand on Mike’s shoulder as he walked by.

Ginger glanced at Mike but said nothing. As he followed Lou inside, Mike trailed after them both and shut the door.

Lou and Mike’s father was in the living room, studying the evening paper. “Hello, boys,” he greeted.

Ginger stared at him. Three years shy of fifty and he was being called a boy.

Lou was used to it. “Hey, Dad,” he returned.

Mr. Trevino set the paper aside. “You know, today was election day,” he mused.

“Yeah. So?” Lou sat down and grabbed the phone.

“Nothing. I just wondered if you remembered.”

Ginger crossed his arms. “Quite frankly, it was the farthest thing from my mind. Especially since we’re not eligible to vote.”

Mr. Trevino shook his head. “Both of my sons and my older son’s best friend, all banned from voting for the rest of their lives because of some stupid mistakes they made. They paid for those mistakes and are on the strait and narrow again. They should be allowed to have a say in their country’s future.”

Lou smiled a bit. He was glad that his father felt that way. Both Mr. and Mrs. Trevino had been very accepting of Lou and Mike, even though they had committed felonies. Some parents Lou knew of had disowned their children under similar circumstances.

Mr. Trevino turned his attention to Ginger while Lou placed his call. “Actually, you are an American citizen, aren’t you?” he queried, curious.

“Dual nationality.” Ginger’s voice was flat and matter-of-fact. “Years ago, when Lou and I worked for a time out of the New York office, I was advised it would be a good idea to apply for citizenship in this country. But I didn’t want to give up my English citizenship.”

Mr. Trevino nodded. “Loyalty,” he remarked. “That’s a good trait to have.”

“It’s something else to fall back on, at least,” Ginger said.

They waited until Lou hung up the phone. “Well, Lieutenant Drumm doesn’t think they were mixed up wanting Syl instead,” he said slowly, clearly not convinced. “But I’m going to tell Syl to be careful, anyway.”

Mr. Trevino gave a weary sigh. “At least my sons were only jewel thieves,” he said. “But Syl, my sister’s kid, he had to go get mixed up in the Mob. He even worked with a hitman, for crying out loud.”

Well, Ginger thought to himself, now he knew where Lou had picked up his method of ranting, right down to the emphases.

Mike sat on the arm of the couch. “You’re not even going to ask what Lou’s talking about, Dad?” he said in surprised confusion.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Mr. Trevino retorted. “He thinks maybe they didn’t really want him and they were after Sylvester instead.”

Ginger might have smirked at the man’s first comment if he wasn’t so upset by the thought of all this suffering having been thrust upon them because of an idiotic mistake.

Mrs. Trevino appeared in the doorway, large wooden spoon in hand. “What’s all this about Sylvester?” she frowned.

“Lou thinks maybe those guys were really after Syl,” Mike exclaimed.

“Well, it wouldn’t surprise me any, the way that boy lived on the wild side,” Mrs. Trevino declared. “He’s even still friends with that hooligan. Do you know they decided Anthony wasn’t of sound mind and had been unbalanced for most of his life? He was in a mental institution for several years. I think he just got out. But I doubt someone that removed from reality could ever really get better.” She shuddered. “Imagine, killing people for a living.”

“Not every assassin is insane,” Ginger pointed out as he got up. Not he liked or particularly approved of such an occupation choice, but he felt it needed mentioning anyway.

“Well, Anthony certainly is,” Mrs. Trevino declared. “Do you know he told his brother that when he said as a boy that there were alligators under the bed, he honestly believed they were there? He stood there, a grown man, talking about real alligators under the bed! Anyway, dinner is ready.”

Lou hung up. “Syl’s okay,” he said with a sigh of relief. “He and Tony were out all day. He’s been trying to help Tony adjust to the real world after Tony got released from the institution.”

Ginger glanced over. “Did he think perhaps those people could have wanted him?”

“He wasn’t sure,” Lou admitted. “He said he’d be careful. Right now, I guess that’s all any of us can do.” He got up to head into the kitchen.

Ginger nodded and followed him.

“He must have been really surprised to hear you, Lou,” Mike remarked as he and Mr. Trevino trailed after them.

“He was,” Lou said. “But happy, too.”

“Of course he’d be happy,” Mrs. Trevino beamed, looking fondly at Lou. “Our family is back together again.”

Lou smiled. That was definitely a joyous thing, for him as well as his family. And as they gathered around the table for their feast, he felt that Thanksgiving had come early this year.