sciencesaggressively

Entry tags:

chuck,
owen

bonding

A jaeger pilot and a leading K-scientist walk into a bar... and Newt doesn't know how this joke ends because he's already three shots and two beers deep with Chuck at a place he's already forgotten the name of, and they're both shouting things at each other, competing to be heard over whatever awful music is playing overhead. It had started out a little rough because what could they possibly have had to talk about other than, well, world destruction. But it turns out that it's not an exhaustive topic.

Newt leans in and pokes Chuck's shoulder, dangerously close to spilling his beer all over himself. "We did it, y'know," he reminds him for the fourth time, except now with a little more of a slur, "we saved th'world. S'like... if you didn't like, die or whatever, and I didn't fuck m'self up with the awesome kaiju drifting, world be prob'ly be, y'know." He slams his free hand onto the bartop. "It'd be gone." He shouts it this time. "I'm a rock star! We saved the world!"

Newt gestures to the bartender for two more shots and hopes that Chuck doesn't have any other plans for the night. He needs this. Newt suspects that maybe they both do, even if it means that he'll be spending tomorrow morning getting intimate with his toilet seat.

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Any retort Chuck would have made about being called just Australia is cut off by the fact that he knows they've got to be right. It's a little disappointing, actually, when he's got plenty of fight left in him, half-tempted to stay and give the same treatment to anyone else who'd try to fuck with him right now, but for all that he'd like to say he doesn't care whether the police come or not, that isn't strictly true. It would just be inviting a kind of trouble that he doesn't really want and he knows it, no matter how primed he is to kick some more asses.

"Alright, I'm coming, I'm coming," he calls, exasperation heavy in his voice, though he doesn't waste any time in starting for the door after the others. There's blood still in his mouth, some on his cheek trickling down from a cut, but he can deal with all that later. If anything, there's something refreshing about the familiar signs of a fight, though he'd be hard-pressed to explain exactly what that is. There wouldn't be any sense in hanging around to do so, anyway, when they're much better off booking it out of here.

Newt's already running for the exit when Chuck and Owen finally decide that it's a good time to bail, and he's got his back turned to the outside as he holds the door open for them. "Okay, I know you guys are like all badass macho men or whatever, but I don't want to get arrested so let's hurry the hell up, please." He knows what happens to little guys like him in prison--well, he's regular size, okay, but compared to most, he can admit maybe he's a little smaller--his tattoos would totally get ruined by someone needling my bitch on him or something, and he doesn't have time for that.

With Chuck and Big O on his heels, he pivots out the door and is immediately greeted by a handful of cops. He really doesn't think five cars are necessary but there they are and a few of the cops push past them to take care of business in the bar but the rest are just staring them down. "It wasn't us?" Newt offers weakly, but he's bleeding from the eyebrow and nose and his cheekbone is probably bruising up already, not to mention what Chuck and Owen must look like right now.

One cop rolls his eyes and steps forward, and Newt really wants to look over his shoulder at Chuck to see what the hell they should do, but he figures it's pretty over at this point. The cop already seems bored, almost like he's disappointed that there hadn't been a chase, but he glares down at Newt as he pulls out a pair of cuffs. "We're going to have to take you boys in."

Newt sighs, defeated, and holds his hands up to show that he's going to be cooperative. He does look over at Chuck and Owen now, very clearly fifty shades of put out, and sighs. "This blows, dudes."

"Shit!" Owen exclaims, and he stops short, seeing the officers stood there in front of the bar. He might've tried to just walk away and play innocent, but Newbie here has basically admitted to their wrongdoing already. That, and he definitely looks like he's been in a fight. this isn't one he's been able to come out of unscathed, so there's really no arguing at this point.

"Next time I try and bail either of you out of a fight, remind me what a fucking horrible idea it is," he says, and before he knows it, one of the coppers is already putting a pair of cuffs on him, being a little rougher than he needs to be, considering Owen's coming along without a fight.

"Alright, alright. Jesus," Owen says to the officer, annoyed. Christ, he hates local law enforcement.

"Oi, fucking watch it," Chuck all but growls, putting up considerably more resistance than either of the other two. It becomes abundantly clear from the way they handle him that the officers aren't thrilled about it, but he's not just going to stand there and put up with all of this, either. It's the last thing he needs right now -- a stupid argument, probably, but an honest one even so. "I guess it doesn't matter that we aren't the ones who started it, then, does it? If there's anyone you should be bringing in, it's the other guys."

He thinks the cop twists his arms behind his back a little harder than he really needs to, but Newt's not exactly in a position to tell him to stop being a dick. It's not until they're shoving him in the backseat of the car and he smacks his head going in--he swears that was on purpose, too--that he makes another complaint. "Dude, seriously? I get my face slammed onto a bar and you're arresting us, that's kind of backwards, don't you think? You could at least be gentle with me."

The cop doesn't even answer, just rolls his eyes which Newt had pretty much expected because clearly these guys don't have their heads on very straight. He heaves an irritated sigh as he shifts in attempt to get comfortable on the seat, ending up with the back of his head against the window as he watches Chuck and Big O get subjected to the same treatment.

He leans to the side a bit to get a better look at both of them and all of a sudden, the whole situation seems nothing less than hilarious. He snorts, ignoring the looks of ire that are coming his way, and offers a dopey smile. "Thanks for a great night, guys."

"Cheers," Owen practically spits, wedged into the backseat of the car, in the middle. He's annoyed— beyond it, really— but at least he knows that whenever they're allowed a phone call, he'll be able to get ahold of Tosh to come bail him out. If they do that sort of thing in Darrow. it seems like a normal sort of thing when it comes to rights, but fuck knows how Darrow operates. After this, he'll have to look into it a bit more, just so he's sure how this sort of thing goes.

Not that he's planning on jumping into anymore bar fights or getting arrested again any time soon.

He scowls the whole car ride, oblivious to whether or not Newbie spends it prattling on about whatever it is he normally prattles on about. In fact, it's not until they're being shuffled into a holding cell that Owen says much at all, even as the cop decides he'd rather ignore all of their protests, shutting the door behind them.

"We're supposed to get a phone call!" he shouts at the door, then kicks it in frustration when no one on the other side answers.

"At least you have someone to fucking call in the first place," Chuck says, the bitterness in his voice utterly unrestrained. With his adrenaline having waned, he's taking to this even worse than he was already, which is saying something. He didn't even really start the fight to begin with. None of this seems the least bit fair, and he thinks these cops have got to have something against them for not being from Darrow, just like the guys in the bar must have, which is utterly ridiculous. They didn't ask to be here, can't help that they are.

They can't help this now, either. Though it's sorely tempting to shout an obscenity after the cop, he just manages to bite it back, having sobered up just enough to suspect that it would only make this worse. If they have to sit around here much longer, though, he doubts he'll still care. "Christ. They better have gone back for those other guys."

What Chuck says keeps Newt quiet for at least three and a half minutes as he peers through the bars of their cell because they're in the same boat in this godforsaken place. He hadn't had many friends back at the 'Dome but at least he'd known that if he ever got into any kind of trouble, the PPDC would be there to bail him out. He'd been valuable there, unexpendable to protecting the fate of the world; here, he's some guy who gets arrested for getting blindsided by an asshole in a bar. He'd even take being back in the midst of a kaiju war than being here right now, at least that way he'd feel more than useless.

He sighs heavily, crossing the cell to lean back against the wall, offering them both a small smile. "We could call for a pizza," he jokes weakly. "That would go over well, I think."

"Good fucking luck with that, mate," Owen replies, bitter, impatient and well pissed off at this point. It wasn't his fight in the first place, he's not drunk, and as far as he can tell, there should be several other people tossed in with them as well.

Though, he's willing to bet a few of them had to be taken to the hospital instead. As a doctor, he shouldn't be proud of the fact, but he is.

"Oi!" he calls through the bars again, "We've got fucking rights, you know!"

Christ, he misses the days when just saying the name Torchwood could get him out of spots like this.

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