Chapter Text
[TAPE CLICKS ON]
[Everything crackles to life in the middle of motion. Shoes scuffing against concrete floors, bags being lifted, something metallic and heavy being adjusted in people's hands.]
GRIFF
"Alright, chop chop, ladies! Let's fuckin' do this before you all snort your brains to mush."
[A long, exaggerated groan follows. The scrape-clack-scrape of high heels dragging reluctantly across the room.]
MOLLY
"It's one in the goddam morning, Griff. Don't chop chop me, you meat-for-brains, alcoholic, thumb in a jacket."
[Griff's voice becomes closer, whispered low next to Baby, but still loud enough to catch the attention of others in the room.]
"This is why Doc shouldn't hire chicks to hit up banks. Bitch can't keep her mouth shut or her nose clean."
[There's the soft sound of loafers clacking somewhere in the room, the heels making sharp noises against the ground, walking slowly to the head of the table. A lazy sip of coffee. A sarcastic voice.]
DOC
"If I didn't hire any "chicks," this place would turn into a runaway bachelor pad with more testosterone than sense."
GRIFF [Snorting, pulling out of Baby's space.]
"Who needs girls when we've got Baby?"
[A loud and mocking scoff.]
"Same fuckin' thing."
MOLLY [She's rummaging through her purse, items gently changing together as she finds what she's looking for. Her voice is slightly muffled, half busy retouching her lipstick in the mirror.]
"And what's wrong with that? Huh? At least he's cute, unlike you."
[The compact mirror closed with a snap.]
"I wouldn't be surprised if any woman got within ten feet of your grouchy ass."
GRIFF [There's a sharp laugh, the continued rustle of gun slings being adjusted over chests.]
"Yeah, well, at least I don't look like I get bent over backwards on desks."
"Fuckin' fairy with his sparkly little iPods."
[Griff's voice fades out as Baby turns to walk away, heading over towards the front of the room, near the chalkboard. Baby's small offended huff can be heard by the speakers, a subtle and annoyed sigh as Griff and Molly's argument goes on in the background, too far away to hear now.]
[Doc's mutterings get louder the closer Baby gets to the board. Things about the upcoming plan, thoughts expressed verbally and unintentionally. Clearly, Doc tuned them out minutes ago, retreating to the far end of the room to avoid all of them.]
"Hm. Might need to change that...'
[Doc pauses in his musing when he notices Baby's presence, words falling into silence for a moment as they regard each other.]
DOC [After a moment of pause.]
"You do realize I told you to leave the pink-colored crap at home?"
BABY
"..."
DOC
"And you still brought it, is that right?"
BABY [A reluctant admission.]
"...yeah."
DOC [Papers rustle as pages of plans are turned. Doc's attention turns towards the map on the table, the pop sound of a pen being uncapped.]
"Look, kid– don't expect to ignore what I say whenever you feel like it, then come over here sulking like that."
BABY [A small grunt of protest. Denial.]
"I wasn't–"
[Doc interrupts Baby mid-sentence, voice rising a little with an unbelieving tone.]
"What? Wasn't ignoring me? Or wasn't sulking?"
BABY
"..."
[Doc scoffs.]
"Please."
"You were staring off into space the whole day yesterday. I insulted your favorite band twice, just to see if you were paying attention, and you didn't even blink."
BABY
"..."
[Hands move to the pockets, distorting the sound of the recorder for a second. The hands leave, pulling something with it. Baby turns the iPod over in his hands, turning it this way and that, shifting of fabric and headphone cords as he inspects it with a hesitant eye.]
"..."
"D'ya really think it's that bad?"
DOC
"You really wanna know what I think?"
BABY
"..."
GRIFF [Shouting from across the room near the exit door, gear loaded, voice slightly taunting.]
"Oi, Baby! Hurry it up! Stop kissing the boss's ass and get in the car!"
BABY [Quick to shove the iPod back into his pocket, a startled protesting noise from his throat, the start of a rebuttal. Griff's boots are already disappearing down the hall before he can defend himself.]
"...I'm not- ugh-"
[Sounds of static and silence. The tape is off, half of it left empty, paused until the next time the record button is pressed.]
[...]
[..]
[Some indiscriminate time later the tape clicks on again, resuming its capture of the environment around it. It starts off almost mid-conversation. Baby's slouched in his seat, the wheel of an iPod clicking as he scrolls through songs. Footsteps approach, walking past, but stopping, backtracking until they end up right next to Baby's chair.
DOC [Voice close as he leans over, observing what's in Baby's hand. The questioning tone of it makes Baby pause, clicking of the wheel ceasing.]
"Blue? Thought you hated that color."
There's a shift of Baby's jacket as he shrugs.]
"Well...s'not pink..."
[Doc clicks his tongue, realization etched into it. It fades a little as Doc pulls back, suddenly rifling through his jacket pocket as if he had just remembered something. Baby makes a startled noise as the object is thrusted into his face, Doc's hands shaking it for emphasis.]
"Right."
"Wanna tell me why I found this in my trash can last night?"
[The shaking of the small music device intensifies when Baby refuses to answer.]
"This isn't a book burning. Don't throw tantrums and start tossing your electronic junk into my office."
[A defensive huff of air can be heard. The chair squeaks a little as Baby adjusts his posture, forearms on his knees stubbornly.]
DOC [Suddenly stern, almost scolding.]
"Baby."
BABY [Finally an answer, murmured under his breath, unable to ignore Doc forever.]
"...what?"
DOC
"I asked you if you wanted to know what I thought, remember? And then you stared at me like you don't speak English."
"So since you obviously know how to articulate beautifully, I'll just go ahead and tell you anyway."
[Baby's arms leave his knees, coming up to be crossed over his chest. His weight shifts as he settles against the chair. A self-soothing action, perhaps.]
DOC [No-nonsense, to the point. He's articulating his words very carefully. Beyond the annoyance, there's something intentional and careful there too.]
"I don't care if your iPods are the color of neon highlighters and shitting rainbows everywhere. If a song on there makes you drive well, I don't give a damn."
[The object is shoved into Baby's hands. Baby fumbles with it, trying not to drop it.]
"Take the fuckin iPod, buy matching pink earbuds, I don't care."
[A tired sigh. Voice less stern now, a little softer.]
"Griff has the brain capacity of a lab monkey. If you ignored him as well as you did when I talked to you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
BABY
[...]
[There's a long moment of pause, nearly spanning a minute. Baby's mouth opens and closes, lips faltering. Eventually, before Doc turns to walk away, he speaks.]
"Doc–"
[A slight hesitation.]
"I– thanks..."
DOC [Snorts lightly, the sound of a hand patting a shoulder mockingly.]
"Sure, kid. But next time grow a pair. Don't wait around for me to defend you."
[Baby sighs, shaking the hand off his shoulder. Heels of shoes start to walk in the opposite direction. Under his breath, he mutters a curse.]
"...asshole."
[The footsteps stop abruptly.]
DOC
"What was that?"
BABY [Quick to plead innocent, shifting further in his seat.]
"Nothing."
DOC
"Uh huh."
[Those footsteps draw near again, faster this time. A loud smack can be heard, and a pained yelp that follows.]
"Ow–!"
DOC [Scoffing under his breath, heading back to his office, leaving Baby to rub the side of his head. His voice carries over his shoulder.]
"Watch it, kid. Don't make me tell you again."
[Baby exhales through his nose. The pink iPod sits in his hand, the sound of Baby idly clicking its buttons. Baby shoves it into his pocket, accidentally hitting the tape deck as he does, abruptly cutting off the recording-]
[...]
[TAPE ENDS]