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Parker rolls his shoulders and scans the room. He's wearing long sleeves and smells faintly of hospital. He's hurt. He's here.

He wonders if it's a theme.

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You're as bad as Court.

"Who's Court?" Parker asks.

Funny.

"Ah, well, then I'm the jester in this court?" Parker says it dryly.

If you're up to the colored tights, sure.

Parker dips his head, "Is that a hint, Thom? You want to see me in tights? High heels, maybe?"

*Thom looks confused.* What?

Parker grins. "In my world, men who wear tights, also tend to dress like women."

*He blinks.*

Different times, huh.

"I guess," Parker shrugs. "There's something interesting about perverting social norms. I'd do it, if I thought I had the legs for it."

'Snot that hard.

Parker raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

*Thom just blinks at him.

What?

All the guys do it.*

"And you're speaking from experience?" Parker asks.

Sure. It's normal in Tortall.

Parker tilts his head, looks at Thom, and says, "I bet."

. . . what's that supposed to mean.

Parker blinks. Slowly. He's making a point. "Thom," he says finally, in a nobody that pretty and smart is this stupid voice.

*Thom rolls his eyes.* Jester.

"Oh, Thom, don't get your thong in a twist. It'll mess with the hang of the skirt."

Now I'm really confused. But I don't think I wanna know.

We gonna stand here all night?

Parker nods towards Thom, runs his thumb too quick across the collar of his shirt. Maybe if someone knew what he was looking for, they'd see that he had traced a nearly invisible chain around Thom's neck.

"Maybe later. I need to find somewhere to sleep."

You don't have a room yet?

Parker shakes his head. "Nope," he says.

A room is kind of like putting down roots, nearly making this place a safehouse. Somewhere he can come back to.

Are you going to?