Red Handed [Open]

Even hot girls had their secrets, and Cal's was Johnson's and Johnson's baby shampoo and body soap. Not that he was a girl, at least the last time he had checked, but it kept his hair silky smooth and his skin baby soft. It was probably something that would make people raise an eyebrow if they found out, but then again, it would just add to the list of questionable things about Cal. He did enough stupid shit as it was, this was just another. Honestly, those who knew him well shouldn't even have batted an eyelid. That was Cal for you.

Absolutely amazing.

Hey, haters could hate. He had better things to do. For instance, he'd managed to run out of body soap, and that absolutely wouldn't do. As a result, he'd made a beeline to the nearest CVS after having lunch with a couple of friends downtown. After all, he wasn't ridiculously vain, but he definitely did take a daily shower. And if it could leave him smelling classy and fabulous, why the hell not? Twenty minutes later, he'd emerged from the store with two bags in his hands. He'd bought two bottles each of the shampoo and soap, just in case he ran out and was too lazy to go get some more.

Shopping was effort, he could tell you that. And so Cal went on his merry way, walking down the street where his car was parked so that he could hop in and drive away, ready to take a nice, long shower.

Now, Cal would normally argue that his life was a judgment-free zone. Considering the number of crazy, judge-worthy things that he'd found himself partaking in in his lifetime, it would have been terribly hypocritical to pretend that he had any right to judge anyone at all. He'd been the recipient of a lot of BS in his life. People not returning his calls, workmen questioning him when he had broken his mandolin during a drunken duel, Bailey not appreciating him and Julie's cooking, his brother dying in a horrific accident that tore his family apart. Oops. Well, that escalated quickly, but other than that, the rest was the usual, no big deal. Typical stuff that most people had to handle. First world problems, if he would call it, though it was arguable that Bailey not enjoying his cooking was a problem that spanned the seven seas. And he'd noticed the girl out of the corner of his eye: the redhead barreling her way across the street, grabbing hold of a piece of paper-- money? Probably, he thought. So instead of judging her or thinking too much about road safety, his first thought had been 'atta girl'. Sometimes, you had to do what you had to do. But it was then when he noticed that the lights were red. A car was speeding towards her, head first, about to crash.

"Watch out!"

The blonde yelled, eyes widening with shock. Shit, this was not good. The screeching of tyres brought his train of thought to a halt, however, as the car managed to stop just a distance away from her. Fuck, wasn't this supposed to be a red light anyway? Cal grimaced as he glanced up at the traffic light. Fucking asshole needed to learn how to drive. Granted, the girl was running in the middle of the road, but still. Red light, lull in traffic? Kapiche?However, it was then when he felt something crash into him, and he found himself tumbling with the girl towards the ground, falling butt-first as she knocked by... Dropping his precious bag of baby shampoo and soap in the process.

"Hey!" he exclaimed as he scrambled for his belongings, eyes meeting that of the girl's. She was young. Fourteen? Fifteen? He didn't know. "Watch out. You had a close shave over there. Nice move, though," he grinned. He had to respect her bravado.

Whoa there, this girl had a hell of a mouth on her. Cal slowly raised an eyebrow as he heard her yell at the car with a raised fist, screaming expletives at the poor dude who had almost accidentally committed roadkill. He got up onto his feet, shaking his head as she continued to yell. Welp, if this wasn't a judgment-free zone, he might even have thought 'kids these days' to himself. Cal was a little crazy and kind of a troublemaker, but this girl just brought it to the next level.

But hey, he had to admit that it was kind of funny. The blonde couldn't help but grin as their eyes met, though there was a certain look of uncertainty on her face: what, was she waiting for him to yell at her, to tell her to watch where she was going? Please, he knew what it was like to be young and stupid. Now he was just old and stupid, or arguably just stupid. She spoke again, and Cal shrugged.

"Hey, everyone's got their hobbies. You play in traffic, committing death-defying acts for a cheap thrill. And I get crashed into by random kids for the hell of it," he said in response as he knelt down to pick up his bottles of soap and shampoo that he'd dropped. "I think that we're pretty even. Ever considered a career as a stuntswoman? I mean, you get to brush with death every day, and get paid for it too!" He stuffed the two bottles in his bag, awaiting some sort of response.

If she was going to swear at him as well, she was going to have another thing coming. His eyes met hers once again, and there was a glint of something else in them. A challenge.

Cal did usually try his best to not be a snob, but having grown up upper-middle class all his life, it was quite easy for him to tell when somebody didn't have as much in the way of money as he did. And judging by the girl's tattered backpack and the flaking black paint, he was pretty certain that she wasn't exactly wealthy, and that was backed up by her ratty clothes and the shampoo bottle rolling out of her bag. Welp. Cal bent down to pick it up, handing it over to her, giving the redhead a little smile.

"Hey, I think you missed this."

But then she started yelling at him, saying that she was mocking him. Whoa. Whoaaa. That had been totally uncalled for. The blonde raised a brow, folding his arms in defence. "Dude, calm the hell down. I'm just kidding. It wasn't a personal attack. Seriously, have you seen Hollywood? They're looking for stuntswomen all the time. It's a booming industry." Maybe in another life, he'd have done that kind of thing. He'd have gotten into great escapes and grand heists for a living. Alas he was going to be spending the rest of his life with molecules and strands of DNA, but he wasn't exactly complaining either.

Life was what you made of it-- you could choose to love it, you could choose to hate it. Whatever you would.

Cal noted the broken zipper and the struggle to pull the bag shut, but he said no more. Last thing she probably wanted was sympathy or charity of any kind. He'd already been able to figure out that she was definitely not middle-class, but she'd get her own stuff in her own time. He wasn't sure how he felt about the idea of most charity, to be honest: while he did like the idea of giving people the means to help themselves, a lot of charity just felt paternalistic and overbearing to him.

He didn't like it when people had offered him sympathy either, or being known as the kid with a dead brother. So he'd keep a distance and see what she said and did. Cal was the kind of person who'd give help when needed, or when asked, but otherwise, most people could damn well take care of themselves. Or well, he said that, but he did tend to go kind of crazy when a friend had been wronged. Welp.

"There's always hair dye. And whoa, haven't you seen Chloe Moretz in Kick-Ass? She got to dye her hair purple and she isn't very big either. I say you're fine in terms of people to be a stunt double for." They'd been engaged in conversation for a while at this point, hadn't they? Cal stuck out a hand for the girl to shake, shooting her a lopsided grin.

"The name's Cal, by the way. I'd better get yours before you become rich and famous. So, what were you doing running across that road? Something important?" He figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. He'd seemed to be pretty good at deflecting her snappy remarks thus far, so why not delve in a little deeper?

She didn't watch movies? Curiouser and curiouser. Most kids he knew were all into the latest action flick or superhero film. "Well, you should check out Kick-Ass anyway. It's about an ordinary guy who tries to be a superhero, who then meets a kid who's actually been trained in that stuff. You should give it a shot, it looks like the kind of thing you might enjoy. A sequel's coming out next year." He was about to say some more, but then Ronni spoke again, and Cal really did have to raise an eyebrow at that.

Chalk his efforts to play it chill up to 100% what-the-fuck and 99% never mind. He knew he was probably tempting trouble by continuing to engage in conversation with this chick, but hey, he'd never been very good at listening to common sense anyway. Cal was smart enough to not ask any more about what she'd picked up in the middle of the road like that, though he had to admit it was curious. Maybe she'd lost something precious to her? You never knew with people-- they were strange and wonderful creatures, and all kinds of crazy and fucked up. He himself was no exception to the norm, of course. So Cal shrugged, showing her the contents of the bag.

"Watch what you call my body soap man. Nobody disses Johnson's Kids' Shampoo and gets away with it. Best shampoo ever, keeps my skin and hair soft and baby smooth." Now he kind of wished that he'd taken the shampoo out of its bag and did a little flourish, just like they did in the advertisements. Man, he should really have been a salesperson. He was definitely fabulous enough, that he knew for sure.

Cal was no detective, though he couldn't help but notice that her eyes drifted towards his bag. What was she doing, judging him for his shampoo choices? Hadn't they established that this was a judgment-free zone? Wow, rood. He took the contents of the bag back, effectively ruining Ronni's shot at being able to steal it, though he didn't know that the thought had crossed the girl's mind. Far from it, in fact.

As far as Cal was concerned, this was just a random encounter that wasn't going to result in anything else. Then again, you never knew what having friends around and about could do for you. You never knew when you'd come to really want a friend in need. So he gave Ronni one last grin, taking a step back and a two-fingered salute.

"Well, I'll be on my way then. Hope you enjoy whatever soap you use. Go check out the movie, why don't you? Think about the whole stuntswoman deal. I still think you'd be good at the job. Or you never know, if they don't have the kind of thing for you out there..." Cal paused. "Be your own leading lady. Ooh boy. Now I'm getting all philosophical." He grinned at her, before heading back to his car, though he gave her a final wave.

"Peace out kid. Don't die when you're practicing for your Oscar."