Title: Outpost
Fandom: The Flash/Power Rangers takes place during pre-series RPM
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with DC. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mick Rory walks into a bar and meets Dillon.
A/N: Written for [community profile] intoabar in May.


Outpost:

Stranger are rare. In a dead world, bars are rarer, but at least they attract the few strangers that might wander into town. It makes Mick’s job easier.

Iris is behind the bar. Merrick is sweeping near the back. Fran is reading near the front. He can hear RJ clanging around in the kitchen. Mick grins behind his helmet, all the exits are covered.

The stranger is dressed in black, thick clothes made to protect precious flesh and block out radiation. The man’s head gear is resting on the bar next to him. He’s sipping at a glass of cold water as his eyes track Mick.

Mick makes sure the inner door is tightly shut before he removes his helmet and ambles over to the bar. He glances at Iris and takes in where she’s wiping down the bar with a sinking feeling. They’ve already scanned him, the stranger is part machine. Does he knowingly work for Venjix or is he an unknowing pawn? The stranger eyes all of them briefly, shoulders tense. Mick takes the stool next to him, watches the way Iris folds her cloth before heading over to him. As far as they can tell the man doesn’t know he’s been modified by Venjix.

Mick extends a hand and introduces himself. The man takes his hand slowly, his voice rough from disuse, “Dillon.”

“You’re just passing through,” Mick informs him.

“Just looking to trade.”

Mick raises his eyebrows towards Iris. She pulls a cylinder out of her apron. Mick turns it over, shoving down the hope that flares in his chest. He opens it and takes the syringe out. He inspects the clear liquid inside, before sliding the syringe back in its container and handing the whole thing back to Iris. She checks the top is secure before sliding it back into her apron.

“RJ cooking anything good?” Mick asks.

“He figured out how to make this stew that tastes like pizza.”

Mick grins.

Dillon glances between them glaring.

“You look old enough to remember pizza?” Iris inquires.

Dillon frowns and looks at her for a long moment before shrugging.

“You remember where you got the medicine?” Mick asks. He gives Iris a toothy grin when she hands him a glass of cold water.

Dillon considers him quietly, eyes not trusting. Smart kid.

“You said you were looking to trade,” Mick pushes.

“Looking for supplies,” Dillon concedes. “Water. Food.”

“How long has it been since you had cold water?” Iris asks.

Dillon shrugs again, before taking another small sip. The way he’s savory the ice water says it’s been too long.

Mick turns his stool, rests an arm on the bar, and makes sure his other is loose on his knee, away from his heat gun. It leaves his posture open. He smirks at Iris. She rolls her eyes, before pulling a sucker out of a jar on the counter behind the bar. She slides it to Mick, who pulls off the wrapper and pops it in his mouth. He grins around the stick at the kid, friendly and maybe slightly manic. He’d love to torch some Grinders.

Dillon cocks his head to the side, “What is that?”

Iris gives Mick a quick uneasy look, “Sucker, want one?”

“What’s it cost?”

Iris smiles warmly at Dillon, “We’ll call it even with this, the stew and another glass of water.”

Dillon nods, then takes the offered sucker. He twirls it around in his fingers regarding it with a frown, before he glances at Mick. The wrapper comes off and the sucker slides into his mouth. Dillon’s eyes widen. Mick has to wonder what Venjix’s plan for Dillon was if he took the kid’s memory.

Mick smirks. “You don’t remember anything from before do you?”

Dillon shrugs, “Was it worth remembering?”

“Yeah, yeah it was,” Iris answers.

Dillon shrugs again. “What would eleven more get me?”

“You only have eleven more?” Mick pushes.

“That’s twelve doses.”

“I’m more interested in where you got it,” Mick tries again. Twelve doses will only cure three people of the Gamma sickness, but will also be admitting that their town is populated enough to be taking care of three sick people. He’s not willing to risk Venjix finding that they have more than a small outpost here.

Dillon scowls as he takes the sucker out of his mouth. “You’ll want me to show you. It was a factory. Heavily guarded.”

“You’ll be compensated. Is it far?”

Dillon nods. “You could get there and back today. You negotiating?”

“Nah, got someone else for that,” Mick grins as he stands. “I’ll see about getting you some food.”

Dillon put the sucker back in his mouth and turns towards his water. Mick nods to himself and heads towards the kitchen. RJ is setting a large bowl next to his pot of stew. He turns with a wide, friendly smile and greets, “Mick!”

Mick waits till the door to the kitchen closes behind him before he tells RJ, “I’m off to get Lisa.”

“He’s got more meds?”

“Better. He can take us to where he got them.”

RJ grins.

“Make it sound like I left?” Mick asks.

“Let me get you some food first.”

“Does it really taste like pizza?”

RJ spoons a ladleful into a mug for him and hands him a spoon, before he pulls down a container and fills it full of stew. He searches through several cupboards before he finds a bag to put it in. Mick eats quickly, he needs to go so they can get negotiations over with and not have to house the kid for the night.

RJ pauses to stir the stew before turning to him with an expectant look. Mick puts his mug in the sink and takes his bag. “Len will love it. Thank you.”

“Tell him to keep his strength up.”

“We’re trying. Lisa should be up in a moment.”

“She does do the best negotiating,” RJ acknowledges.

Mick grins. “That she does.”

RJ hands him the key to the trap door they have in the kitchen. Mick opens it carefully, silently. He slips the bag around his wrist and starts down the stairs, only feeling the tension in his shoulders ease when RJ locks the door behind him.
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