Chapter Text
The Deputy is sitting on a stool at the bar counter that faces into the kitchen in John’s ranch, eating a double cheeseburger like a starved man, though to be fair, he probably hasn’t eaten anything with actual nutrition in light of recent events anyway. He’s got another double cheeseburger on a plate in front of him and a large pile of fries also crammed onto the plate, courtesy of one of John's Chosen (he's pretty sure her name is Joanna) that John had assigned to being his Chef since she really was quite a brilliant cook, and she was simply wasted as a soldier.
She’s completely enamoured with the Deputy and John's slightly annoyed about just how many of their members are taking a liking to the man. She also likes his voracious appetite and his many, honest compliments about her cooking which have made him a quick favourite of the woman and she has no problem cooking anything and everything he wants. He hadn’t even asked for cheeseburgers outright, John is pretty sure.
He remembers when the Deputy offhandedly mentioned one day about it being ages since he'd eaten a cheeseburger and how he missed them. Good fries too. Then today, he'd shown up to ‘hang out’ as he had eloquently put it and Joanna had all but dropped whatever she was doing in order to come cook for him. So now he sat with two double cheeseburgers and a pile of fries in front of him, eating like one of Jacob's wolves.
John couldn't help the slightly disgusted sneer on his face as he watched, shaking his head before he spoke "How can you eat like that?"
Around a mouthful of food and further disgusting John, the Deputy speaks "‘Cause it's good and ya wouldn't know good food if it bit you in the ass, John Seed."
He grins at him before swallowing his mouthful and taking another eager bite, a small moan slipping out of him as he devours his food and John rolls his eyes.
The deputy's radio bursts to life, Whitehorse's voice coming over the device in crackly static.
"Rook? Rook, are ya there? We need you for something."
A look of panic crosses the blond's face as he quickly tries to chew and swallow his food, putting his burger down on the plate as he tries to get his mouth free so he can respond and John absolutely relishes in the other's struggle.
"Rookie?"
John raises an eyebrow, pausing for a second. Rookie? Right. The Deputy was a junior Deputy, new to the department if John remembered correctly. He'd always assumed that Rook had been his name or something. Though why not just call him by his name? He found it odd. However, now John was exceptionally curious about what the Deputy's real name actually was. Surely, they had to have a file on him somewhere. There’s no way the Deputy could have just arrived in Hope County without them even having a hint of information on the man.
He’s brought back to reality when the Deputy lets out a quiet choking noise, blue eyes flicking to the other in concern as John watches him pound on his chest. He apparently tried to swallow the mouthful of food too fast and almost choked but he seemed to be fine otherwise, John rolling his eyes as The Deputy coughs and grabs his radio.
“I’m here Sheriff, sorry ‘bout that.”
“Don’t worry about it, Rook. You mind heading over to the Henderson Farm? Got a… Conflict that could use seeing to.”
The Deputy nods, despite the other’s inability to see him, and gets up while grabbing a tissue to wipe his mouth on the way out.
“You got it, Chief, I’ll be there quick.” He pauses, looking back at John and gesturing to his forgotten burgers, “You mind putting those in tupperware…? I wanna eat ‘em when I get back.”
John rolls his eyes but reluctantly moves to do as the Deputy asks, the puppy-dog look in his eyes if John refuses is far too much for him to even entertain dealing with right now. Better to just do as he asks and do something about it later. Plus, he’ll never hear the end of it if he just throws out the burgers. The Deputy will complain about it until the end of time, whether or not Joanna cooks him fifty replacement burgers and fries.
“Fine, but you have to tell me your name. Your real name.”
“Hold on, you don’t know my name?” The Deputy has paused at the door, looking at John with a confused expression.
“I thought it was Rook, but the Sheriff has graciously cleared that up for me now.”
John hates the grin that lights up the Deputy’s dumb face as the man clearly delights in John not knowing his name “You seriously don’t know my name? Mr. 'Big shot lawyer from Atlanta who knows everyone and everythin’ in Hope County' don’t know my name?”
“I’ll throw out these burgers, I swear.”
A loud laugh escapes the blond before he shakes his head “Why don’t ya guess? Or do some research. But I can assure ya, Rook ain’t my name. Though I mean, in a way, it kinda is now. It’s just what everyone calls me. I don't mind.” He shrugs a shoulder. Of course, he doesn't mind, the Deputy is more interested in helping people than what they call him and John resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's as pure hearted as ever.
The blond shrugs a shoulder before seeming to remember what it is he was meant to be doing “Oh right! Shoot, I godda get going, I’ll be back for them burgers later! See ya!”
He quickly leaves, pausing to close the door gently to make sure he doesn't slam it (ever the gentleman) and John hears the splutter of his truck’s engine coming to life and the sound of tires over the dirt road as he drives off.
John scowls and shovels the Deputy’s meal into Tupperware containers, snapping the lid shut more roughly than necessary, and so what if it’s petty how he gets some satisfaction out of the mistreatment of the Deputy’s beloved burgers.
He decides that he is going to find out what the Deputy’s name is, whether or not the man wants him to.