Hondo and the City

He leaned back away from table, groaning. "'s not home-cookin', but it's not bad, huh, pup?"

Hondo grinned over at the young'un and his empty plate. Poor little thing had been hungry. Kids didn't ever seem to eat right these days, and here in this hideous fucking place... Lord, but he was tired of the fucking noise and lights and people and shit. Paulie was due out of the hospital in a couple of days and then he was taking his sorry-ass back to Texas and his critters and then he was nailing his feet to the ground.

Two weeks was too long.

"If it was home cooking then it would be bad! My Mum used to burn everything."

"Well, that's a damned shame." He finished off his coffee and shook his head. My momma did her share of cookin', but I manage for myself these days. Nothin' fancy, but good, solid food." He grinned, arched an eyebrow. "Might even put some meat on your bones, pup. Maybe you should take it up."

The kid grinned up at him, freckled nose all wrinkled up. "You need a kitchen to cook, H-man."

"Hondo, son." He shook his head. "What kinda place doesn't have a kitchen, pup?"

"The great outdoors, flophouses." Davey shrugged, grin still in place, making the light green eyes twinkle. "And Hondo sounds like something Han Solo and Lando Calrisian would name their kid -- is your last name Sorisian?"

"Sor... no. No. Last name's Travis. Hondo was my granddaddy's name and his daddy before him." He sighed, looking at the poor kid. "Outside? Here? In this horrid place? I'm sorry, pup. That's just wrong."

Davey shrugged. "That's life, H-man."

"Yeah. I suppose." He felt like shit, sitting here across from this kid knowing the wee thing didn't have a home in this rain and noise and filth. "Still, it's wrong."

"Does that mean you'll buy me dessert?"