Work Text:
"Look, as your lawyer, I'm obligated to tell you that this is not a great idea."
"It's my money, right?" Jesse asked.
"Yeah. Your drug money, which tends to be a little suspicious."
"Yeah, noted." Jesse looked irritated and exhausted, as if he and Saul had already been talking for hours, when in fact he'd come into Saul's office with this dumb idea about five minutes ago. "Look, I just want them to be taken care of. You take care of my money, so… that's what I want you to use it for. Or some of it."
"He's not your son, right? Is this child support? Have you been missing child support payments?" Saul assumed he would have heard about it before now if Jesse had any kids, but, hey, he didn't get paid to judge his clients' parenting skills.
"What? No! You think I'd be, you know, doing this line of work, if I had a kid?"
"Maybe that's why you're doing it. Look at Walt," Saul offered.
Jesse rolled his eyes. "Look, yo, I don't have cancer, and I don't have any kids. I just… I was… I... care about Andrea, and Brock. Even if they're not like, related to me. My money's not really doing me any good right now, but I want it to help them. And, I… if I, you know, bite it, I want my money to go to them." Jesse looked dreamy at the thought, and Saul remembered Walt coming in his office a few weeks ago, concerned that Jesse didn't seem to care whether he lived or died.
At the time, he'd figured Walt was just being melodramatic--he was always really weird about Jesse anyway, especially given that those two weren't related either--but maybe Walt was right and he should be a little concerned about the kid. Saul wasn't a headshrinker or anything, but even he knew that giving away one's possessions was a red flag for suicide. Which, honestly, would just be a huge pain in the ass that Saul knew he'd end up having to clean up. Figuratively.
"Kid, I gotta ask, why are you doing this now?"
"Um, I don't know, maybe because a couple of the scariest guys ever wanted to kill me and Mr. White?"
"Oh, that," Saul said, relieved. "But you're not planning on…"
He let it hang in the air until Jesse made an exasperated face and said, "Planning on what?"
"You know," Saul said, and mimed hanging himself.
"What? Jesus, no. I just… you know, Mike said things could get hairy. So I figured I might as well, uh, do this."
"Okay, okay. So you want me to deliver money to the Cantillos weekly, and you want me to, what, draw you up a will?"
"Yeah, exactly."
"A will in which you leave all of your illegally-acquired assets to two people with whom you have no legal connection?"
"Look, you're the lawyer, you figure it out. Can't you, like, launder it? Isn't that what you do?"
"Why don't you just adopt one of those starving kids from TV? You can feed them for pennies a day, and there'd be a lot less paperwork."
Saul said it as a joke, but Jesse looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I mean, I guess that'd be good too. Some charity or whatever. And I guess my little brother should get some cheddar too. Yeah."
"Well. Look, kid, let me tell you, an aboveboard, legal will is not the way to do this. That's gonna raise a lot of questions. What you'll wanna do is set up some safe deposit boxes, put the cash in there, and, uh, I'll get the keys to the people you specify, if you meet an untimely end."
Jesse nodded. "Yeah, okay, yeah, that's smart."
"Thank you, it's so nice to be appreciated for my work," Saul said.
"I just left some cash in her mailbox," Jesse blurted.
"You… okay. Well, I'm glad you came to me. Jesus Christ," Saul muttered.
"She asked me about it, afterwards… I told her I wanted her to get a new place, in a better neighborhood. For her and Brock. I… I don't want Brock to have to grow up in that neighborhood." Jesse fidgeted, and added, "But then I also told her that she could spend it all on glass and there'd be nothing I could do about it."
"You are… something else, kid."
Jesse licked his lips. "I don't think she will, though. She's a good mom. She's just… I mean… I know it's hard. Not using. And it's my product… and… I just want Brock to be okay. Not like her brother. Ten years old and already in a gang, you know? Already killed by..." he trailed off and shook his head.
"Yeah, just terrible," Saul said.
Jesse's expression told Saul that he wasn't being convincing enough with his outrage.
"All right, all right, we'll get baby Brock out of the barrio and into a deluxe apartment in the sky," Saul said. Jesse's face looked blank and Saul briefly felt his age. Really? The kid didn't know The Jeffersons? He amended his statement, "You know, uh… just someplace nice."
Jesse nodded solemnly. "Yeah. So, I… I guess if you could deliver the money in person? Like, so you could check on them? And make sure they're doing okay?"
"And why can't you just do this yourself? Did she break up with you?"
"No, not… I mean, I just… " Jesse exhaled loudly. "It's not… it's just better if I'm not in their lives. Directly. So are you gonna help me or not?"
Jesus Christ, the kid was moody. Saul held out his hands appeasingly. "Yeah, sure, for my best client, I'd be happy to drop off some non-court-mandated child support payments."
Jesse shrugged. "I mean, I'll pay you whatever your rate is. For your time. Whatever you want. It's just… important."
"I said I'd be happy to do it, kid. Do you want me to say it's from you? I can make up a scholarship or something if you want."
Jesse considered and said, "No, I guess just from me. She'd probably figure it out anyway, since I already gave her some. I think… I think she'll take it if she knows it's from me, as long as she knows it's not stolen."
Saul's certainly not paid to quibble about the ethics of stolen money versus drug money, so he just says, "Got it."
Jesse nodded. "Could you do it today? The first one?"
"I'll have to have Francesca check my schedule."
"It won't take that long."
"Fine." Saul activated his Bluetooth and said, "Francesca? What's on my schedule for this afternoon?"
"You've got the DUI at 3, the exploding Pop-Tart at 4:30--"
"Exploding Pop-Tart?" Saul asked. Jesse raised his eyebrows incredulously.
"You know, pain and suffering from an excessively-heated toaster pastry?"
"Ooh, right. That one's gonna be a money-maker, I can smell it."
Jesse cleared his throat loudly and asked, "What about right now?"
Saul said, "What about right now? What's on my agenda?"
Francesca said, very slowly, "You have a meeting with Jesse Pinkman."
"I know that! I mean, after this?"
"After this, you're scheduled for a two hour lunch. And then the DUI."
"Great. Thanks, H.T."
Francesca made a disgusted sound and hung up. He really didn't understand why she couldn't take a compliment.
"Okay, great news: I'm free right now. I'll go do your little Robin Hood mission."
"Uh, can I come?"
"Sure, introduce me to your beneficiaries, great idea."
"No! No, I mean, I don't want them to see me, I just… I just want to… make sure."
Saul shrugged. It was far from the weirdest thing one of his clients had asked him to do, so he said, "Okay, let's go. I'll get Huell."
Jesse raised his eyebrows again and Saul said, "If the neighborhood's bad enough for you to want them out of it so bad, it's bad enough for me to bring Huell."
"Fine."
Saul rounded up Huell, and they set off for the address Jesse provided. Jesse looked miserable the whole way over, occasionally blurting out things he wanted Saul to tell Andrea. Saul didn't really understand why Jesse seemed like such a sadsack. He was a decent-looking kid with tons of money and drugs, he could have pretty much any chick in town. Why mope around about one with a kid? Especially if the kid wasn't even Jesse's? It just didn't add up.
He was more confused when he rang the bell and met Andrea Cantillo. Sure, she was pretty, and she seemed nice enough, but was she really the one you'd want to leave your whole meth empire fortune to? But Saul wasn't paid to ask questions like that. Saul was paid to say, "Hello, miss! Are you Andrea Cantillo?"
She frowned. "You're from TV."
Saul widened his smile. "Ah, you're familiar with my commercials! Yes, I'm Saul Goodman, attorney at law."
"Is… what is this about?" Andrea asked suspiciously.
"May I come in?"
"What is this about?" Andrea repeated, blocking the doorway with her body.
"I represent Jesse Pinkman, and he asked me to make some arrangements for you."
"You know Jesse?" Andrea asked. Her face softened, and she stepped aside to let him in. A cute little kid was playing video games in the living room. Saul glanced at him and figured Jesse must have been telling the truth about not being his actual dad.
"Yes, Jesse's one of my clients. He spoke very highly of you and your son, and he asked me to set up a kind of… trust for the two of you."
Andrea led him into the kitchen and asks, "Can I get you anything to drink? Water, Coke, apple juice?"
"Ah, no thank you," Saul said, settling down at the table, which was slightly sticky from a previous apple juice drinker.
Andrea joined him at the table and said, "Sorry, it's kind of a mess. I… wasn't expecting company."
"Hey, looks fine to me!" Saul said. "I'm sure you're doing your best, you know, as a single mom."
Andrea paused for a moment and said, "What does this have to do with Jesse? Is he in trouble?"
"No, no, far from it. Jesse's... come into some money, and he wanted to make sure you and Brock are taken care of."
"Jesse already gave me money. Kind of a lot of money."
"Yes, he mentioned that, but he wants to make it more like a weekly thing."
"I don't understand. Why is he doing this? Why won't he see me? Where did the money come from?"
Saul licked his lips. He wasn't sure how to answer, because he wasn't even sure what the real answer to most of those questions was, and he definitely couldn't answer that last one. He decided on a tactic that was unusual for him and said, "To be honest, I'm not really sure. All I can tell you is it seems like you and your kid are really important to Jesse."
Andrea crossed her arms and said, "This is really weird."
"It's… unusual," Saul agreed.
"Is he trying to buy me off or something? Because I wouldn't… I mean, I don't even know anything, I just…"
Saul held up a hand. "I can guarantee that this is no strings attached. And also that my client is not currently in any legal trouble."
"I don't know," Andrea said.
Saul reached in his jacket and handed her the envelope Jesse had given him. He set it on the table. "Look, as Jesse's lawyer, my job is to make sure that this money gets to you. After that, you can do whatever you want with it. But my advice is you use it like Jesse suggested. Find a new place, in a better neighborhood. If you don't want to take it for you… take it for Brock. Jesse… seems to really like Brock. He wanted me to stress that."
Andrea smiled. "Yeah, he's great with Brock."
Saul set his business card on top of the envelope and said, "If there's anything I can help you with, just give me a call, Miss Cantillo. Jesse's instructed me to check in with you and provide you with financial support on a weekly basis."
Andrea raised her eyebrows. "Weekly?"
Saul nodded. "So, when you find a new place to live, please inform me of the address. Uh, Jesse told me to tell you to try to get a house with a nice yard. For Brock to play in."
"For Brock," Andrea echoed.
"And that if you need anything extra for sports or camp or anything like that for Brock, to just let me know."
Andrea swallowed and said, "Can you tell Jesse… tell him… thank you, I guess."
Saul smiled. "Will do." He hesitated, and then added, "By the way, I don't know the details of your… situation, but do you need any help getting child support payments from Brock's father?"
Andrea shook her head. "No, thank you."
"You sure? If he's a deadbeat dad, I can wring him out in court. Get his salary garnished, whatever it takes."
"No, no," Andrea said firmly. "Thank you, Mr. Goodman, but… no. There are good reasons he's not in Brock's life."
"And Jesse…?"
Andrea looked confused and said, "I don't know what Jesse told you, but I don't have a problem with him seeing Brock. Like I said, he's great with Brock. I… I think he'd be a great dad."
"I'm afraid I don't have all the details myself. All I can tell you is that Jesse does want to make sure you and Brock are financially taken care of, but he's…. very busy right now."
"Well, tell him he can come back and visit Brock if he wants. Even if he doesn't want to see me. They say boys need a male role model, you know?"
Saul carefully maintained his straight face at the thought of Jesse Pinkman as anybody's role model. He stood up and offered her a hand. "I'll be sure to tell him. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Cantillo, and I'll see you next week."
"Next week," Andrea repeated. She followed him back to the front door.
He hesitated and walked over to Brock, who was still engrossed in his video game. He said, "Hi Brock! I'm your mom's friend Saul."
"Hi," Brock said.
"You call him Mr. Goodman, Brock," Andrea said.
"What are you playing?" Saul asked.
"Sonic. Do you want to play?"
"Aw, no thanks, kid, I gotta go. Maybe next time."
"You can be Blaze if you want."
Saul was not clear on what that meant, but he said, "Hey, thanks!"
"Welcome."
Andrea gave Saul a half-smile on his way out the door. She whispered, "Blaze is Jesse's favorite character."
"Ah," Saul said. He returned to the car, where Jesse and Huell were sitting silently. As soon as Saul shut the door, Jesse said, "How are they doing?"
Saul said, "They're doing fine, kid. Andrea said thank you. She seems… confused about all of this. Which, to be honest, I think is a reasonable response."
"Did you tell her about Brock? About if he wants to go to soccer camp or anything?"
"Yes, I told her about Brock and camp."
Jesse exhaled loudly. "And she took the money? And she said she'd move?"
"Yeah, yeah, I did everything you asked. Give me a little credit, Jesse."
"Sorry, I just… they're really okay?"
Saul nodded. "Really. But I think Andrea would like to see you, and Brock too. She thinks you're a good role model for Brock, you know."
Jesse shook his head 'no,' but he relaxed in his seat. He looked happier than Saul had seen him in quite awhile. Saul was paid to keep his clients happy, and he felt a moment of pleasure in a job well done. Then he moved on to thinking about how to financially quantify the amount of pain and suffering caused by an exploding Pop-Tart.