You Do What You Have To - 21

 

 

"If you want to do laundry, there's a washer and dryer in the room behind the kitchen," Robin told him. "For now, let's fix something to eat. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

 

"I could eat something. I haven't eaten since last night and it was just a sandwich."

 

"No wonder you're so thin," Robin commented as they returned to the kitchen, where he took the makings for burritos from the fridge. He oiled a frying pan, set it on the stove to heat, then tossed in the ground beef to brown. "Do you mind cutting the tomatoes and onions?"

 

"Not at all." When Robin put them on a cutting board and handed Micky a knife, he set to work.

 

"How spicy do you like things?" Robin asked, reaching down to pat Thor, who had followed them.

 

Micky grinned. "Hot enough to burn my taste buds."

 

"You got it."

 

Ten minutes later, they were rolling the ingredients, including beans and grated cheese, into large warm tortillas. Robin set the dining room table, then put the platter of burritos in the center of it, along with a bowl of hot salsa, while Micky poured glasses of milk. When they sat, Thor immediately lay down beside Robin's chair.

 

"So good," Micky moaned after taking a couple of bites of his first burrito, liberally doused with the salsa. He sucked in a breath, grabbing his milk. "So hot!"

 

Robin laughed. "Wuss. I thought you said you liked it that way." 

 

"I do, but damn. Did you make this?"

 

"Yep. My one claim to cooking fame. Poblano, Anaheim, jalapeno, and habanero peppers, tomatoes, garlic and onions, plus vinegar and a touch of mesquite liquid smoke."

 

Micky took another cautious bite and decided he liked it, although he went easier on the salsa this time. "It might destroy my taste buds, but it's worth it."

 

They finished the meal—and a gallon of milk—then after doing dishes, settled in the living room, with Thor again at his post by the fireplace.

 

Micky rapped a knuckle against his teeth, still sucking in breath to cool his mouth. Do I give him Darren's wallet? So far he's proved he doesn't plan on harming me. Well, other than killing any chance of my being able to taste food again. Micky chortled softly.

 

"What's funny?" Robin asked.

 

"Nothing really." Making the decision, Micky took the wallet from his pocket, handing it to Robin. "Trust is a two-way street. You told me your real name, and I believe you, so…"

 

"Thank you," Robin said sincerely. He opened it, laying the contents on the coffee table. "One fake driver's license, forty-three dollars in cash, a library card. A library card?"

 

"Yeah, I know. That's sorta weird."

 

"We'll get back to it. Three credit cards, all for Gary Freeman, and that's it." Robin picked up the laminated library card, studying it. "This could be some kind of ID to tell a cohort that he's legit. The number, maybe."