2024-12-29 - To Serve and Protect Lampposts

It's mid-afternoon a few days after Christmas, the lamps just coming on as the dusk draws in. Suddenly, Fred's radio crackles into life.

"Control to Security - anyone near the Boardwalk? Punter's reporting someone's climbing one of the lamp posts. Can someone get over there sharpish and check please?"

"Control, Gretna. I'll be there in thirty seconds, over."

Some things are hard to shake, and Fred never has managed to settle into a civilian sort of radio communications - or not using his callsign on comms. But there's work to be done, and thirty seconds at a brisk pace (never let the punters see you running, Mr. Security, that tends to panic them) brings Fred to the Boardwalk, there to start looking for the appropriate piece of chaos among the, well, chaos.

The specific piece of chaos that appears to be haunting the boardwalk today is Thomas-flavoured. The technician is currently hanging upside down from one of the lamp posts like an oversized bat, his legs looped over the cross bar as he works to replace one of the small LED bulbs that make up the Christmas lights draped liberally over the posts.

And there it is, and it's... ah.

"Control, Gretna. On scene on the Boardwalk, it's just a misunderstanding. Out."

And with his conclusion radio'd in and the troops stood down, Fred makes his way over to the lamp-post, checking for the safety barriers that are supposed to be up and harnesses that people really should be wearing if they're working at height above public areas. Health and safety, such fun. "Hey, Tom. you okay up there?"

Thomas is wearing none of these things. Sorry OSHA. He did at least put up a single cone that looks like it's seen better days. At the call he blinks owlishly down at Fred before his face splits in an upside-down grin. "Hey! Fred! I'm good man, just fixing this light! I saw it was out and I had a spare on me so.. y'know. Didn't want to bother maintenance with something so small, y'know?" He finally manages to click the bulb in place and the strand lights up. "Yay!"

"Right," says Fred drily, eyeing the cone and then Thomas again. "I know what you mean, but... you've got a plan for coming back down now it's all fixed, right?"

Because getting up to these places is one thing but Fred is well aware that getting down is often another thing altogether, and a thing that the technical types often forget when they're being all enthusiastic about having found a solution. He isn't standing directly underneath Thomas right now - beware of falling Toms - but he's in a position where he could move in to catch the Technician if he has to.

Thomas grins down at Fred and then pauses at the question, the grin starting to fade. "Uhhhh," he starts as he thinks about it. "I thought I'd come down the opposite of the way that I came up," he says hopefully. "That should work, right?"

Yup. Techs.

"You get started back down, then," says Fred, with amused but weary resignation, "And if you get into trouble I'll give you a hand." At worst, he gets to catch Thomas, or at the very least cushion the fall. At best, he gets some free entertainment while the techie gets back down from where he got up to. And it's entirely possible that the younger man will make it back down easily, at which point there's no problem. "Whenever you're ready."

"Um, sorry?" Thomas says with an apologetic (if upside-down) smile. He flips himself back upright, carefully wrapping his arms around the lamppost before he starts to shimmy down it. He seems to mostly be fine - maybe he does this more than he should - jumping off the pole and landing safely on the ground for the last foot and a half. "Tadah!"

And then Thomas makes it down and sticks the landing, and Fred smiles, stepping back to give the Technician a little space and applauding. "Nice one," he says, with a smile. "And the lights are still working, even better." His voice drops, then, keeping it a little quieter. "Just - someone saw you going up and got worried enough to call Control, Tom. Any chance I can persuade you to remember to get a barrier and look official, next time? It's not like I was far away, but people notice when people start climbing the lamp-posts, unless they're looking like they're supposed to be doing that, at which point they just assume everything's fine and wander on."

"Aw shit, really?" Thomas says, his pleased smile disappearing when Fred tells him about the call. He makes a face, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. "Fu...dge," he says, correcting himself as he realises that he's an employee in public. Well he caught himself once at least. "I just saw it and I had a spare...." he huffs. "Sorry man."

Fred apparently can't help but smile. "It's no problem," he replies, amusement returning. "I got here, saw what was going on, and radio'd in to tell them it was just a misunderstanding. No names, no nothing. And they won't get a name from me either, I'll just tell 'em I handled it. Now as long as you get yourself and the cone out of the way without the cameras picking you up, no-one'll ever know. All good?"

"Yeah uh that's just from over there somewhere," Thomas says vaguely, sidling over to the cone to kick it away. It skids off into the darkness. "All good!" he says before he reaches out to clap Fred's shoulder, a relieved expression on his face. "Thanks man, I owe you. Guessing you're on the clock if you got here so quickly. Feell like I should get you a drink at the least."

Fred chuckles. "Six-pack to the usual place? Like you said, I'm on the clock right now, or I'd take you up on that. Or I'll trade you, I've got a bit of kit that needs fixing on the quiet." He turns to lean against the lamp-post now Thomas isn't going to land on him, arms crossing in front of him and accidentally revealing that he's more solidly-built than he looks. "How's it going, anyway? Haven't seen you in a while."

"Usual place, got it," winks Thomas before the other option has him thinking. "I can do both?" he offers. "Since you're doing me a pretty big solid," he grins, wiggling his fingers. He watches Fred as he leans, the question giving him pause. "Yeah, it's been a while, huh? What with Halloween which just takes up all my time, and now Christmas..." he shrugs. "How about you, man? How's life?"

"Okay, I'll drop the kit off in the morning," says Fred. "Thanks, Tom."

"Halloween and then Christmas, yeah," says Fred, with a grimace. "And all those other holidays that happen at the same time. Be glad when it gets to January and we can all have a rest while we do the tidying up. Between people trying to climb the tree, people trying to sit on the inflatable Santa, people getting stuck to things and in things and on things, and people getting drunk and mardy, I'm looking forward to a spot of peace and quiet, for a change."

"Yeah, no problem man, anytime," Thomas says, waving it off like it's something he does every day.

He winces at Fred's description of all the shenanigans. "And sometimes that's me, huh?" he says with a nervous laugh, eyes straying up the lamppost. "But I didn't climb any trees! So I'm good," he says innocently.

Fred grins. "Not a tree," he says. "The tree. The really big one covered in baubles and ribbons and stuff. That tree. After some muppet went up there, you're golden."

He can laugh about it now, but at the time it was an exercise in pure frustration.

"How long will you get to get things back to all tickety boo?"

"Oh that tree," Thomas agrees and then quickly shakes his head. "No I have definitely not been climbing that tree," he promises. "Cross my heart ecetera ecetera." The question has him laughing and shrugging. "As little time as they can possibly spare, you know?"

"Good, good," smiles Fred, as though the idea that Thomas might hadn't even crossed his mind - although that smile turns a bit wan when he realises that it might only have been safe because none of the lights stopped working.

"I know, I know," the Security man sighs, though, when it comes to turnaround on getting everything back to normal. "Although we do get to live here cheap, so I can't complain too much."

Thomas 's eyes narrow on Fred like he may be able to divine what thought's crossing his mind before his smile turns just a little more innocent. It's fine! He would never!

"We do, and we get, y'know, cool things too," he says cheerfuly. "Plus the weather's just right here. Much better than Florida, ugh." He wiggles his fingers up at the sky. "Proper snow and everything."

"Really cool things," Fred agrees with a smile, abandoning the 'climbing things' topic in order to lurch to something easier. The weather, something safe to talk about. "Proper snow and not so many hurricanes," he agrees happily. "And you don't walk out of a building and feel like someone slapped you around the face with a hot flannel unless someone actually slapped you around the face with a hot flannel. So glad I got word about this place when I did, I was about to leave Florida and try working my way north when this one came up."

"You know now I'm wondering how many hurricanes we get here," Thomas considers like the thought had never occurred to him. "Can't be many, right?" There's a long pause as he works through that, and something in Fred's words catches him. "Wait, how often do you get slapped around the face with a hot flannel??"

Fred watches Thomas, waiting patiently for the man to sort through what he said, and then he's smiling the cheerful smile of the total wind-up merchant who just successfully sold someone on a wind-up.

"You know I'm ex-Forces, right? You have no idea about some of the daftness people get up to in the barracks when they're bored."

Thomas's eyes narrow back on Fred like he's trying to fiigure out if the other man is telling him the truth or not. "I dunno, slapping someone in the face with a hot flannel doesn't sound very creative," he says doubtfully. "Maybe with a salmon or something."

"Yeah, well, no-one said squaddies were bright," smiles Fred. "And salmon just aren't that easy to get hold of. Or cheap. You were more likely to get slapped around the face with a dirty sock than a salmon." There's a moment's pause, then, "So what did your friends get up to instead, then?"

Thomas shudders at the thought of being slapped with a dirty sock, tearing his thoughts away from that to look back to Fred. "Well I went to dance school and then worked on Broadway so uh... not that. More like, taping you to a bar and then sending it up into the flies."

Fred hehs. "Nice," he says approvingly. "Sounds a lot like what we did to the irritating so-and-so in parachute training." Even Fred's moderating his language - but then he usually does, around the punters. "The pranks got better as you got older and further up."

"You know," he adds, "I've heard of barflies, but that's ridiculous."

"Did you uh... tape him to a helicopter?" guesses Thomas, his eyebrows raising curiously. He scrubs at his chin, laughing. "Oh very good, very punny, you might say," he smirks. "Yeah, the pranks in theatre are just on the side of not letting the punters know what you've been doing, you know?"

"Nah, taped him to his bed, then sent him off to be slung out the back of a Herc over Salisbury Plain," Fred replies. "The tank chutes let him down easy enough, and the Herc was headed that way anyway."

The old soldier's grin at Thomas' complaint of the pun is bright, and then he nods. "Yeah. We didn't need to worry about that, so much. As long as you could march straight and stand around for hours when you were called on to do public-facing stuff, no-one really noticed."

"Well okay, yeah we never pulled anything that big," Thomas says, scratching at the back of his neck. "Also sound pretty f-udging terrifying so remind me never to annoy you, huh?" he laughs, glancing up at the lamppost guiltily.

"Yeah, definitely sounds like a different world, huh?" Thomas says with a wry smile, tilting his head in amusement at Fred, shrugging helplessly. "I'd get bored standing around for like ten minutes."

Fred grins. "If you'd had access to a Herc and you were forced to be around that guy, you'd've been right there with us," he predicts confidently. "Trust me, if you were that annoying you'd know about it."

Fred nods, then. "Definitely a different world," he agrees. "You learn to get used to being bored. And after a while and a deployment or two, you start to want to be bored. Your options are bored and the other one, and bored is generally way more pleasant."

"Orrrr I wouldn't know about it, because I'd be at the bottom of the lake," winks Thomas. "Would be kinda cool to have access to hardware like that, but I'm pretty sure I can't fly one." He chuckles before he sobers up in the face of Fred's response. "Yeah, I bet," he says with another quirk of his lips before he glances at a nearby clock. "Aw shit, man, I'd better get going or I'm gonna miss dinner. Drop the gear with me tomorrow?" he says, canting his head.

Fred chuckles, then nods - and then he too glances up at the clock. "Yup, can't ask you to hang around bored for more than ten minutes," he says, refocusing on Thomas with a smile. "I'll drop the kit round tomorrow morning, Tom - have a good night, okay? And enjoy your dinner."

Thomas rolls his eyes at Fred. "You never bore me, man. You have a good one. Keep protecting those lampposts." His eyes twinkle as he looks at the lamppost and then Fred, and he might be about to crack a joke but then he definitely thinks better at it and just shoots Fred some fingerguns before he jogs off.

Fred grins, and then he's turning to go back to the patrol he abandoned to get here, meandering amiably and mostly being seen to be present.