Hm. See what I can do. [There will be places to get building material outside the system here, a city doesn't exist that doesn't have cash-only under the table businesses.
But that's enough to have him grinning again, a speculative look in his eyes as he watches Len walk through the apartments. He always has the patience to watch his partner casing anywhere. He's thorough, and there's something satisfying in it, even for the observer.]
[Len leans over to look out a window and decides he likes this particular room. There's a fire escape nearby and a good view of the approaches both up and down the street.]
If my sister's sleeping next door? Definitely. Neither of us much wants to listen to the other doing the horizontal tango.
[He laughs, quiet and sharp, folding his arms and leaning against the wall of the room Len has picked for his own.]
Could trade off on giving 'em the shovel talk, like we did before. [When Mick wasn't in prison, he'd occasionally stepped in to talk someone questionable out of dating his best friend's sister. It had always worked. And it had been fun. He still isn't sure Lisa knows about that.]
[Len laughs and turns around, folding his arms and leaning on the windowsill]
We will. But I don't want to cramp her style so long as she's enjoying herself. She's my baby sister, but she's a grown woman now. And she's here to cuddle and fuck, just like we are. I don't know what she's here for, but if it's important to her, I don't want to stop her from getting it.
[Mick accepts that with an easy nod. It isn't like back home, when Lisa had been just a kid, and attracting the wrong element. She can handle the wrong element all on her own these days. Sometimes just for something to do.
He hasn't asked about her incentive. Too risky. Means Mick might need to talk about his own, and he isn't ready to tell Lisa about Len dying.]
[Funny. Len has the same reason for not asking Lisa about her incentive.
He shifts up, walks towards Mick]
No shovels, unless we need to. She's still my sister, and I'll still protect her no matter what. But there's no reason why all three of us can't have fun so long as it's safe.
[He curls a finger in Mick's collar and tugs him down a few inches, mischief in his eyes] What do you think, hubby? Can you see us living here for a while?
[Mick looks impassive as he's tugged forward, and impassive as he gets asked the question, and impassive as he retaliates by calmly reaching out, wrapping one hand around his wrist, and putting his partner in a mild headlock.]
Yeah. Sounds good. Hubby.
[Neither of them should be saying that word while sober. But the headlock lasts only for as long as it takes for Len to start struggling, then he'll let him go again. But they've been mushy enough for one day without some kind of a punch getting thrown.]
[Len yelps as Mick puts him in an unexpected headlock, and squirms, but before he can punch him in the gut to get him to let him go, he's released. He's grinning, though, as he straightens up, recognizing the joke and teasing for what it is.
He backs casually out of arm's reach, and then starts moving towards the door before tossing his next salvo.]
Careful. If I know it gets your goat, I'll start calling you even cuter names.
[That's sure not true. Len would dare almost anything if he could. He's fearless.
Mick follows, heading back down to the bar, taking another look around with a satisfied little hmm. It'll take time to convince himself that it's theirs—they're not exactly roots people—but...it'll be good.]
[Mick finishes examining a scar on the long bar—he'll have to get a couple stories about this place out of the old man before he up and disappears—and swings around, tipping his head, curious.]
[He really hadn't expected to sort out their premises that fast. He'd assumed they'd both look around for a while longer, disagree on a few places, lose out on a deal, that's how this kind of thing was supposed to go, right? So he'd figured celebrating was a long way off.]
...pour us a couple'a drinks and I'll think about it.
[Len had expected the same thing, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it was fate, or maybe they just got lucky. Or maybe they'd just made a big mistake, but he didn't think so. It was a good deal, a perfect little place, and he was confident they had found the right one.
He grinned and hopped over the bar, then hunted through the bottles, then he picked up one in particular]
[Or he'd just spent the last couple dozen years around him and knew just what he liked. Either way, it brought out a grin as Mick settled on one of the stools, arms loosely folded as he leaned against the bar. They'd be doing this for a while now, wouldn't they? Better get used to the view.]
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But that's enough to have him grinning again, a speculative look in his eyes as he watches Len walk through the apartments. He always has the patience to watch his partner casing anywhere. He's thorough, and there's something satisfying in it, even for the observer.]
Expecting noise complaints, Snart?
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If my sister's sleeping next door? Definitely. Neither of us much wants to listen to the other doing the horizontal tango.
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Could trade off on giving 'em the shovel talk, like we did before. [When Mick wasn't in prison, he'd occasionally stepped in to talk someone questionable out of dating his best friend's sister. It had always worked. And it had been fun. He still isn't sure Lisa knows about that.]
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We will. But I don't want to cramp her style so long as she's enjoying herself. She's my baby sister, but she's a grown woman now. And she's here to cuddle and fuck, just like we are. I don't know what she's here for, but if it's important to her, I don't want to stop her from getting it.
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He hasn't asked about her incentive. Too risky. Means Mick might need to talk about his own, and he isn't ready to tell Lisa about Len dying.]
Fine. No shovels. Unless we need to.
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He shifts up, walks towards Mick]
No shovels, unless we need to. She's still my sister, and I'll still protect her no matter what. But there's no reason why all three of us can't have fun so long as it's safe.
[He curls a finger in Mick's collar and tugs him down a few inches, mischief in his eyes] What do you think, hubby? Can you see us living here for a while?
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Yeah. Sounds good. Hubby.
[Neither of them should be saying that word while sober. But the headlock lasts only for as long as it takes for Len to start struggling, then he'll let him go again. But they've been mushy enough for one day without some kind of a punch getting thrown.]
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He backs casually out of arm's reach, and then starts moving towards the door before tossing his next salvo.]
Careful. If I know it gets your goat, I'll start calling you even cuter names.
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[That's sure not true. Len would dare almost anything if he could. He's fearless.
Mick follows, heading back down to the bar, taking another look around with a satisfied little hmm. It'll take time to convince himself that it's theirs—they're not exactly roots people—but...it'll be good.]
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There he pauses and sees Mick looking around. He smiles, watching his friend. It's nice to see Mick this happy]
I think we ought to celebrate.
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Maybe so. What'd you have in mind?
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Hey, you found this place, Mick. I think this is your party. What would you like to do?
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...pour us a couple'a drinks and I'll think about it.
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He grinned and hopped over the bar, then hunted through the bottles, then he picked up one in particular]
Fireball whiskey?
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[Or he'd just spent the last couple dozen years around him and knew just what he liked. Either way, it brought out a grin as Mick settled on one of the stools, arms loosely folded as he leaned against the bar. They'd be doing this for a while now, wouldn't they? Better get used to the view.]