Overtime - Philo/Carmen

Overtime (Joint post between Philo and Carmen Sandiego) Philo had tucked himself into a 1970s El Dorado. It was late, and as usual he was the only one left in the garage. Real beauty of an engine this one, built around the time cars had begun to conserve energy. Still had a little bit of power behind it though. He heard a noise. "Lissen, garage is closed, keep yer skirt on' an you'll get your playboy mobile tomorreh." He didn't know if someone was there or not, he just had to re-assure himself in his loneliness. The ACME garage was not a place Carmen frequented, not during her time as a detective, and doubtlessly not now. On a small, private mission, she had taken her time with this building, checking exits and keeping tabs of who came and went in the past week. She never entered a place unless there were multiple ways out... or a friendly face. The familiar voice that greeted her was assuring, although, 'playboy mobile' was a strange reference. "Lonesome tonight, Mr. Goldwater?" Her sentence preceded her form. Philo looked up from the hood only far enough for his hands to still be on his tools. Trough a smattering of grease on his forehead and cheeks he saw Carmen Sandiego. "Hm...Why ain't I sehrprised?" "I had the notion you might leave one garage only to stay in another," her eyes followed the rows of cars and machinery. "I'm sure you knew I had to see if it was true." She circled the El Dorado, scrutinizing it as she moved. "Don't tell me the new, cleaner you lives here?" "Yeh, beats....nowhere, or jail." Philo shrugged. "And the pay?" "I'm bein' robbed. But it ain't about deh money." Philo stood all the way out of the cadillac and closed the hood. He walked over to a rag on a nearby table and began to wipe his hands. "Yeh, know....usually, people think yeh want somethin', but I know better. Jus' couldn't let deh curiosity be." "Precisely, I couldn't," she stood with the car between them, "I don't suppose they're making you tell on me?" That was an honest question. She would hate to reroute everything again because one of her people happened to talk. However, she was not here only for that, she was also here to check exactly where he was and where she would be in relation to his position. "Maybe, but perhaps I'll jus' take deh heat. It'll be deh only thing I ever do wrong." The rag went to his face, smearing the grease across his cheeks a bit more. He cast it aside and moved towards a wall mounted sink, turning on the water. "I'd appreciate that," she said after a pause, "thank you." There wasn't much else to say. He was well, so was she, and her time here was running short. "When I leave, I want to make it clear that you're no longer my concern... and vice versa. Business, as always." Philo shook his head, cleaning it with a dry towel. "Carmen. It ain't business. Yeh didn't come here cause it was business....Way back den, when I was a kid....nah, I jus' acted like a kid....It wasn't business. Yeh were young, and yeh were lookin' for a criminal who had a bit more....texture." "You had the distinctive foulness most people lacked," she laughed lightly in the dark, "I suppose we're older and wiser now, is that where you're getting?" "I like to think of it more like....what you did when yeh quit ACME. I can't be what people want o' me. Not after what happened in Boston." Philo grinned solemnly. "I can remember deh scream dat gumshoe made when she fell off deh bike tryin' to chase me for dat dumb ol' headlight I stole. Den I can remember how mad yeh got dat I actually hurt someone..." She stopped to think about what he said, "I wasn't mad, simply... disappointed... It was a headlight, Philo." "It was a Boston Speedway headlight. Used t' be my gimmick." Philo gave a sniff. "I know, it sounds silly t' me now too. Fact is, I can be happy wit' myself now. Dat's deh reason you quit ACME. It's deh reason I quit VILE. I'm gonna try life not runnin' from deh law for a change..." "It's a lovely thought," she smiled, "my regards to your mother?" Regards were her way of keeping the conversation about the other person. "Yeh, sure." Philo nodded. Even through his sunglasses she could see his eyes were downcast. He didn't want to look her in the eye. Probably that was one of the first things she ever noticed about the man who was once Top Grunge: he wasn't as callous as he wanted people to think. He had feelings. Carmen walked to Philo and picked out dust that he had somehow accumulated on his shoulder, "There isn't any 'hard feelings' on my side," she gave him a dignified nod, "and there won't be, if your loyalty lies here. I don't want you to ever second-guess this decision, Philo. I'd rather you stand for something, anywhere." Philo gave a nod. "I understand." Giving her former friend another glance before taking off, she remembered how much she hated coming to ACME. There was always a cloud here, one that only seemed to grow as the years passed. Philo watched as Carmen rounded the corner to the hallway. No sirens went off. That was good. Philo walked over to the console that contained the security cameras, pulled out a disc, and cracked it in half. Then he put the pieces underneath the tire of his motorcycle. Hopefully the other detectives would be satisfied with the explanation that it was an accident.