Chapter Text
“We’re here.”
Dave snorts awake as he finally feels the car lurch to a halt, marking the end of their journey. He scoots up from his slumped position in the front seat and squints at the harsh reality of day before fixing his shades to block it out.
“God, how long was I out?” he asks, looking to his left. Rose had volunteered to make the entire drive to their new home by herself, and for once she’s not masking how tired she is. Her hair is unbrushed, her make-up smudged, and she isn’t fixing him with her usual smarmy “I know all” smile. It's a relief in some ways. It’s nice to know that Rose Lalonde is actually human.
“A few hours," she responds. "You certainly missed the most boring leg of the trip. The entire state of Minnesota is flat, empty, and entirely awful.” Rose uses the rear-view mirror to fine-tune her appearance, brushing out a few obvious tangles in her hair. “But now here we are, in the land of forests, rain, and rumors.”
Dave looks out the window, still trying to blink out some of the sleep from his eyes. They’re pulled up in a driveway of a nice one-story home in the middle of some equally nice suburbs. His eyebrows shoot up a tick. “Is this our new pad?”
Rose nods. “It is, though the movers have yet to arrive.”
“Well, I’m gonna go check it out.” Dave slides out of the car and onto the driveway, taking in a huge breath of fresh air. It’s one hell of a departure from the city, but he isn’t sure yet if he likes it or not. He is equally unsure of the house. It has a front yard and trees and a driveway, and it isn't directly attached to any other homes or buildings. The entire place is theirs - no landlord, no above stairs neighbors, nothing.
So this is what it’s like to be a homeowner.
Well, Rose is the technical homeowner here. The house is under her name; Dave's just along for the ride. She hasn't made it clear why she invited him to make the move with her, but Dave expects that she would be lonely otherwise - and with free rent, he's not exactly complaining.
"Yes, we just got here. Where, exactly, are you?" Rose steps out of the car a moment later, her phone out and an irritated expression on her face. Dave silently mimes a grabby motion with one hand, looking expectant. Rose rolls her eyes, but tosses him the new house key as she listens to whoever is on the other line. Dave catches it expertly, like a pro basketball pitcher or something, then gives her the coolest thumbs up he can.
He's practically jittering with excitement as he walks up to the front door. The lock takes some fiddling, just because he's unused to it, but finally the front door swings open. Dave savors the moment, taking a slow first step inside, breathing in that nice, new house smell.
Well, fine. It mostly smells like wood and emptiness, but it doesn’t smell like trash or rats, which is more than he can say for his last apartment.
With the dramatic entrance set and taken care of, Dave begins a quick tour of the place. There isn't much to see. Two bedrooms: a master bedroom for Rose, and a normal bedroom for him. Two bathrooms, one connected to the master bedroom. (He spends some sweet time in this one, knowing that one Rose is fully moved in, it will very likely end up off-limits.) One kitchen, with a dishwasher and oven and everything. There’s even a laundry room. Dave runs his hands along the washer and dryer in awe for a moment.
Free laundry. Holy shit, they are really going to be living in the life of luxury here.
He’s about to run the washer just for the hell of it when Rose stomps in, her eyes narrowed and her lips pulled into an ugly frown. The effect is heightened by the dark smudges of makeup around her eyes - she looks a little bit like a Disney villain gone terribly, terribly wrong.
He'll still issue a standard friendly greeting: “Hey Rose, what’s-”
“Our moving van crashed.”
Oh. “Well, shit. Is our stuff okay?”
Rose sighs. “It didn’t sound like it got totaled, but I do worry for some of our more delicate belongings. I made it clear to the man on the phone that we will be reimbursed for any damage.” She runs a hand through her hair, brushing her bangs back until they stick up a little, which only adds to the impression that she's out to ruin some doe-eyed princess's day. “They did say that they would get our furniture to us as soon as possible, but that it won’t be here until tomorrow. And that is at the absolute earliest.”
Dave regards this thoughtfully. That means no bed. No couch. Not even a couple of chairs they can push together. And hell, where did the blankets end up again? Are those in the back of the car or the back of the moving van?
“Well, hey, at least we got a washer and dryer, right? Who needs flat surfaces to sleep on?”
Rose shakes her head. She's clearly not in the mood. “Get your things out of the car. It's time for an emergency Target trip.”
----
It’s about a fifteen minute drive to Target, which is on the other side of town, nestled in among the small commercial district and surrounded by a measly few strip malls. Once there, it’s an unspoken challenge to see who can come up with the best bed substitute. Both of them grab their own shopping cart and set off without a word. The Target is fairly empty, since it's mid-day on a Thursday, so it doesn't take much for them to meet up again at the cash registers after about fifteen minutes.
Dave raises an eyebrow as he takes in the contents of Rose's shopping cart - a bunch of pillows and about six yoga mats. He tuts and shakes his head.
“Rose, I think it's obvious who's won here," he says, gesturing at his own cart. He's got a blanket and two beanbag chairs - the clearly superior makeshift bed. "I've only got two giant bags that are soft and comfortable. Much more efficient. Plus, even when we get the beds, we still have beanbags around. It’s a win-win.”
Rose snorts, brushing some of her hair back over her shoulder like a popular girl villain from a Disney Channel show. “You're clearly in the wrong here, Dave. My small pile of yoga mats will be far more comfortable, and less of an eyesore. Once we have the beds, we can open up our own yoga studio. As I understand it, those are quite popular these days.”
“Okay, no. No way. We are not having a bunch of people in yoga pants invade our new home. I'm not going to risk wandering out of my room in my boxers only to walk in on a room of cute girls in tight pants contorting themselves in the name of wellness and exercise.”
Rose lets out a snort of laughter. “It would be a financial boon. We could pay back the entirety of the house, Dave.”
He squints at her. “I thought your mom paid for it.”
“Well, yes, but I would consider that an insignificant detail in the grand scheme of things. You can never go wrong with more money.” Rose brushes another hand through her hair. “Besides. At least there are room for other things in my cart other than yoga mats. The same can’t be said about your bean bags.”
She gestures toward his cart, which is indeed completely filled by his two bean bag chairs. Dave shrugs, and pulls an Adam Sandler DVD off of a nearby shelf, dropping it into Rose’s cart. “Don’t need room in my cart when you’ve made room in yours with your shitty sleeping solution.”
Rose shoots him an icy stare. “Put that back.”
“Nah, you do it.”
“That would violate my very strict policy of never touching anything that Sandler has gotten his hands on. Put it back or I am kicking you out of my house.”
Dave gives her a put-upon sigh as he gingerly removes the Sandler DVD and puts it back among its discounted brethren. He has the feeling she's going to be holding the house ownership over his head for a long time. “Fine, suit yourself.”
He still manages to sneak a few things into Rose’s cart, of course. By the time she reaches checkout, she’s placing the Community season 1 DVD, a tacky Halloween crow, a pack of sharpies, and an entire jug of apple juice onto her conveyor belt. She raises an eyebrow, but lets them slide along to get scanned, and so Dave gets his things paid for.
The cashier, on the other hand, perks up when her four yoga mats need to be scanned.
“Oh, are you guys new here?”
That catches Dave’s attention. Usually cashiers just go through the whole "How are you, have a nice day" recited script; not only has this guy deviated, but he's managed to guess something about their personal lives. He looks up.
The cashier is pretty young - probably just around their age - with rectangular glasses and a mop of dark hair that probably hasn’t seen a hairbrush in a couple of days. When he smiles, he reveals a distinctive set of buck teeth. His name tag helpfully reads “John.”
Dave squints his eyes at "John." “Yeah. Who needs to know? How do you know? Are you psychic or something, because I’m pretty sure that kind of sh- stuff should come with a label, like, you know, a tattoo on your forehead that tells everybody ‘hey everybody, I’ve got hella ESP over here, so you’d better not get too close or I’m going to reveal all of your deepest darkest secrets to everybody.’”
“Do ignore him,” Rose intercedes, nudging his shopping cart back into his gut in an effort to shut him up. “He runs at the mouth in an attempt to cover up his overwhelming insecurities. Still, he raises a point. How did you know?”
John shrugs. “Well, I didn’t recognize you guys, and the stuff you’re buying doesn’t seem like the kind of things that tourists would buy.” He gestures to Dave’s cart. “Like, bean bag chairs are a pain in the butt to transport! Are you just moving in?”
“Yes, actually,” Rose responds. “We’ve been in town for maybe an hour now, if that. Now, please don’t tell me that you have the face of everybody in town memorized. I know we aren’t exactly in a large city here, but I'd hoped I'd not picked a place with a small town mentality either.”
“Oh no, no, it’s nothing like that.” John is holding the sharpies in his hands, decidedly not scanning them as he waves them around. “It’s more that you don’t get a lot of people our age living around here, and I’m at least familiar with all of their faces by now. But all of the old people kind of blend together, you know?” He shrugs, then finally scans the sharpies through. “Honestly, it’s nice seeing some other people who aren’t like a hundred around here! How old are you two? Just out of college?”
“More or less,” Rose says. “Both of us are twenty-five. Born a day apart.”
John looks between the two of them with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, are you two siblings or something, then? You do kind of look alike.”
Dave shakes his head. “No. No way. I’m from Texas, home of cattle, rednecks, and fire ants. She's from New York. Totally different beasts.”
“Okay, okay, wow.” John holds up his hands defensively. It’s a good thing that nobody is behind them right now, because John is being horribly inefficient at cashiering. “So, boyfriend and girlfriend then? Or married? Engaged?”
“None of the above,” Rose corrects, very quickly. “Simply friends.”
“So roommates.” John shrugs. “What brings you two out here, then? There's not a lot of exciting things out here. Or job opportunities.” He says that last bit with some amount of disdain. Dave is guessing that “Target cashier” wasn’t high on John’s list of career choices.
“I’m actually here for an investigation, of sorts,” Rose explains. “You have some very interesting rumors about the woods around here, and I would like to try and track down the source. Most people believe that it’s simply folklore and superstition, but I want to prove otherwise, if possible.”
“Ohhhh.” John's eyes light up with a sudden realization. “So you’re one of those monster hunters?”
Rose purses her lips. “I suppose 'monster hunter' is a term you could use. I’d like to think my pursuits are a little more scientific than the average cryptid enthusiast, however.”
John laughs and literally waves her off with the jug of apple juice. “Yeah, well, not to be rude, but that’s kind of what they all say! Most of them just go to a motel or something, though. They don’t actually move in.”
This allows Rose to preen a little bit. “Yes, well, I have higher ambitions than they do. Which is why I intend to find the thing in the woods, while they end up empty-handed.”
“Well, that’s pretty cool," John grants. Then his attention is on Dave. “So what about you? Are you also here to hunt down monsters?”
Dave shakes his head. “Nah, I’m mostly just along for the ride. Rose here was all like, ‘Hey Dave, I need to go and find a flesh-eating terror monster in order to make my mom shit her pants, but I’ll get lonely if you don’t come with me, so move to the middle of bumfuck nowhere with me.’” Rose shoots him a withering glare, but Dave's expression remains impassive. He's sticking to the truth, dammit.
“And you said yes?” John asks, incredulous. He’s finally managed to scan the first yoga mat in.
“No, of course not. She offered to pay my rent, and that’s when I said yes.”
Then John’s looking back to Rose again. “Wow! So you must be loaded!”
“My mother has a number of patented inventions,” Rose explains, though the corners of her lips twitch downward at the mention of her mom. “Thankfully, she is a very generous parent, and is more than willing to support my investigative endeavors. Truthfully, I think she is just funding this so that I will feel more foolish when I inevitably fail, but I intend to prove her quite wrong with my big scientific debut.”
“Huh.” John scans the next yoga mat. “Well, If you ever want me to show you around town, then I can do that! Me and my roommate moved here a couple of years back, so I know what it’s like to feel sort of lost and new here. It’s pretty intimidating, even though the town isn't that big.”
“I think I would appreciate that actually,” Rose says. “How can I contact you?”
“Oh! Well, my number is, uh… here.”
And then, rather than just letting Rose plug his number into her phone like a normal person might have done, John reaches over and pulls out one of Dave’s newly purchased sharpies to scrawl his number across the front of the Community DVD. Dave cringes. That isn’t going to wash off.
“So yeah! Feel free to call me or text me or whatever, and we can meet up and I can show you all the cool places around town!”
Rose picks up the scrawled upon DVD with her trademark Lalonde-ian smirk on her face. “Well, that’s quite the generous offer. I do think we’ll have to take you up on it. Right Dave?”
“Yeah. Though, you know, there are probably better ways of going about it than writing on my brand new season box set. It’s no longer in mint condition. Like, maybe if you were Donald Glover or something, it’d be more awesome, but this is just a travesty.”
John laughs, and he does not seem at all sorry about ruining Dave’s DVDs. “Well, sorry! I’ll try to remember that for next time.”
"Ah-hem."
Dave jumps slightly and looks back over his shoulder at the sudden noise, only to find that there's an old woman standing behind them, one hand on her hip as her foot taps impatiently on the tiled floor.
"Oh, geez, sorry about that, miss!" John says, and suddenly he's scanning things at the speed of light, trying to clear Rose's cart. "Slide your card there please, miss... uh, you know I never caught your name?"
Rose slides her credit card through - undoubtedly all of these purchases are going to her mom's account. "Rose," she says. "And my tag along is called Dave."
John hands her the receipt with a brilliant smile across his face. "Well, it's nice to meet you Rose and Dave. Hope to hear from you soon!"
----
Dave and Rose return to their house and immediately begin to set up their makeshift beds. Without speaking a word of it to the other, they come to the consensus that they’re both setting up their temporary beds in the living room rather than their own rooms. Dave isn’t sure if this is a game of direct one upmanship, or whether they just want to spend their first night sleeping in the same room as each other.
(If anybody else finds out, though, it’s the former.)
Dave quickly finds that his bean bag plan has a few problems. If he tries to support his head and his legs, he ends up slipping down in between the beanbags, forming a human “V” shape. If he tries to support his legs and his butt, then his head is lowered to the ground, and all of the blood ends up rushing to his head, making him dizzy. He ends up deciding that head and butt support are the best, but his legs still dangle awkwardly.
Well, hopefully he’ll have a bed tomorrow. It will have to make due.
The sound of nails clicking on a touch screen attracts his attention, however, and he rolls awkwardly onto his side to face Rose.
“Who the hell are you talking to? All of the people you know and like are in this very room right now. Is it your mom?" He squints at her, judging her mood. "No, you don’t look annoyed enough for it to be your mom.”
“Actually,” she says, “I’m texting John right now. The cashier, remember?”
“Yeah, the one who ruined my Community DVD.”
Rose rolls over to face him. “I would hardly say ruined. The DVDs themselves should still be completely functional. The boxart simply isn’t as attractive as it once was. A tragedy, surely.”
“Of the highest degree. You know, he wrote directly over Donald Glover’s face? Like Troy is the best fucking character in that show, and he goes and just draws all over his face and blocks it out with a giant four. I’m never going to forgive that guy. Never ever.”
Rose rolls her eyes. Dave can barely even see her in the dim light of the living room, but he can tell just by the way her shoulders move and that little exhale of breath that she is judging him.
“Believe it or not, Dave, I think it would be a good idea for us to make actual friends here." There's a pause, but the sort of pause that makes Dave sure there's about to be a "but" added on. "...Besides, it might be useful for my research. If he’s local, then he probably knows some good spots in the woods to seek out their supposed monsters.”
“Aha. See, I knew that you had to have some sort of ulterior motive. You’re just leading the poor guy on, thinking that maybe he can make friends with the frazzled goth chick he met at work-”
“I don’t think I was frazzled, Dave-”
“- but you’re just using him for his forest knowledge. This is a new low, Rose.” Dave shakes his head sadly, tutting a little bit. He gets a pillow thrown at him. Those had thankfully been stuffed into the back of the trunk, so they have full access to them.
“I would also like to make friends for their own benefit,” Rose insists. “Even if he had confessed to knowing nothing of the nearby woods, I would have taken him up on his offer to chat. He seems nice enough.”
Dave can hear her phone vibrate with another text message. He raises an eyebrow. “And just what does Romeo have to say to you?”
“Dave, stop. I would have expected you to rise above heteronormativity and not insinuate he’s trying to hit on me.”
“I’m not saying you’re heteronormative. I’m saying he is.”
“He’s invited us over for dinner," Rose snaps. "Both of us. So if he is trying to hit on me, either he is very bad at it, or he is an equal opportunist.” He can hear her nails tapping away at her phone screen again. “I’m accepting his invitation by the way.”
“Okay.”
“And giving him your number. I will not be the only one trying to extend our social circle here.”
Dave groans and languishes over the back of his beanbags, his head falling back so much that his bangs brush the floor. “Aw, come on Rose. I’ve got a great social circle on the web. It consists of me and all my adoring fans who donate to my paypal so I’ll continue making shit comics for them. That is the highest level of friendship right there.”
“Who knows?” Rose muses. “Perhaps if you befriend John, you will make another friend who will donate to your shit comic’s paypal account.” As if on cue, Dave feels his phone buzz with a text. “At the very least, he will be making us food. Surely that accounts for something. If not the highest level of friendship, it must rank in the top ten.”
“I guess so. Depends on how good of a cook this guy is.” Dave pulls out his phone and squints at the screen. Sure enough, he has a text from the same number that’s scrawled across Donald Glover’s face.
Unknown Number [09/24/15 8:45 PM]: hey! this is john! you know, the cashier who checked you out at target. your roommate gave me your number so that we could talk too! i hope you aren’t too annoyed by that.
Dave [09/24/15 8:46 PM]: oh yeah you were checking me out huh
Hey, if this guy can’t handle a couple of terrible texts on behalf of Dave, then he has no business trying to be friends with him.
Dave [09/24/15 8:46 PM]: i knew it i do have one hot piece of choice ass and i bet you were just thinking about how awesome i was gonna look lounged out on top of my two bean bag chairs
Dave [09/24/15 8:47 PM]: well let me tell you thats exactly what im doing right now and i even have a rose in my mouth and eyebrow waggling is happening all up in this joint like its the worst 80s porno you ever laid eyes on
Dave [09/24/15 8:47 PM]: wait is eyebrow wiggling a porno thing i honestly have no idea where the hell it came from
Dave [09/24/15 8:48 PM]: anyways do you want to know what im wearing
The response doesn't come immediately, and Dave thinks that maybe he's actually scared the guy off. Yet after a few minute, his phone buzzes again.
John [09/24/15 8:55 PM]: rose told me that you were really weird! wow, i wasnt expecting her to be this right though, haha.
John [09/24/15 8:56 PM]: anyways, i just wanted to ask what kind of food you liked and if you have any allergies or anything.
John [09/24/15 8:56 PM]: and, uh you’re not vegetarian are you?”
Dave [09/24/15 8:58 PM]: i am definitely not a vegetarian and im not allergic to anything
Dave [09/24/15 8:58 PM]: as for favorite stuff i dont know ill basically eat anything
Dave [09/24/15 8:58 PM]: cant go wrong with apple pie though if youre planning on throwing dessert into the mix
John [09/24/15 9:00 PM]: well, to be honest, i am not usually that big of a fan of baked goods…
John [09/24/15 9:01 PM]: but i guess for a hot piece of choice ass, i can make an exception. ;) see you tomorrow!
Dave [09/24/15 9:04 PM]: wait what