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Duo is sitting on the floor by the fireplace, print outs stacked in careful piles all around him. It's not usual for a digital-age kinda guy like him to have so much paper, but that's what legal cases get you. (It's harder to hack paper.)

He's also eating Meat On A Stick™. It's probably beef teriyaki, if you're feeling generous.

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"Yes," Puck agrees, blinking.

"That I had thought we agreed upon already. At least--" His smile is back, careless and bright. "I assumed that in conveying your regards, I should be doing precisely that, and not making polite conversation of the sort that should be of no use to her at all."

"That's for sure. I think we're all beyond the realm of small talk at this point," Duo says with a snort.

Puck waves a dismissive hand.

"I doubt very much that I was ever in it."

"I dunno," Duo says. "I think I can remember some weird and awkward attempts, in the past."

"Can you?"

Puck appears very intrigued, like a child about to be told a bedtime story.

"Like what?"

"I'm sure you asked me if I approved of the current weather, or if I was doing well on a fine evening, or something," Duo says, with what's not quite a full fledged Puck imitation. But it's leaning in that direction.

He snickers.

"You think I haven't a care for the weather, Master Maxwell?"

Duo eyes him, halfway to amused again.

"No, not really. 'Cause you could hole up in here if you didn't like it."

Because he's pretty sure Puck never goes back to his world.

"How little you know," he sniffs pleasantly.

Though he must admit he does enjoy that: When the rain is coming down outside and he's inside, curled up on Havelock's lap while Havelock reads a good book ...

He does not sigh.

But that is because Duo is watching.

Thaaaat's okay. Duo already sort of guessed.

"You just keep telling yourself that."

"Oh?"

Puck's eyebrows arch, delicately.

"Oh no, Master Maxwell, I pray you enlighten me. What knowledge have you?"

"...do you think I don't know what you're thinking about when you make that face?"

(Puck didn't need to sigh.)

Puck goes :O!

"Master Maxwell, I have no idea what you might mean." A beat. "Are you ill?"

Edited 2010-02-16 06:30 (UTC)

"Not so much as you are, man. I mean, it's not like I want to imagine you canoodling with your boyfriend. But when you make that face it's pretty obvious you are."

Puck's expression is that of instantaneous horror.

WHEN DID DUO LEARN TO READ MINDS.

"What face, pray tell," he says, with frigid scorn, "is that face?"

Duo makes the Puck-thinking-about-Havelock face. It is sappy, faintly lascivious, and totally exaggerated.

Puck stares.

Then he lunges.

"That is a perfectly disgusting fabrication--"

A jellybean, pegged with astonishing accuracy, bounces off the center of Puck's forehead mid-lunge.

(It's popcorn-flavored.)

"Denying factual data is undignified," River informs them both, with placid disregard for the sudden blizzard of Duo's paperwork.

"Ha!" Duo says, seemingly unconcerned with said paperwork because of his triumph. He also seems mostly unconcerned about the fact that Puck is trying to strangle him a little.

"See? River agrees with me. Ow! Leave the hair alone!"

Puck's fingers, meanwhile, continue to scrabble for purchase somewhere in the wilds of Duo's braid.

"She has said no such thing! That maid has faced trials enough without you putting insinuating words into her dear mouth."

He is hoping for River's incoherency rather than her agreement; he suspects she shall stand with Duo strictly on principle, if for no other cause.

Everyone is against him. Except for Havelock!

IS IT ANY WONDER HE LIKES HIM BEST.

Well done, Puck! With two easy sentences, you've doubled the amount of withering look you're getting from River!

"It's okay," she says, very kindly.

"Denial is a natural stage of emotional progress."

Duo can handle this. But Puck gets a few more jellybeans flying at his face as a parting gift.

When River is more ahead of you in complicated emotional progresses, you should know you have a problem! Duo shoves Puck off him.

"I don't think she'd thank you for saying any of that, just so you know."

Pause as he picks shredded paper out of his bangs.

"And I'm still right."

Puck has managed to catch one of the jellybeans this time round, more or less expecting the barrage by now, and he stuffs it irritably into his mouth as he glowers at Duo.

"What precisely is your matter, Duo Maxwell? Speak what you will in all plainness, if you would; I've neither love nor patience for these horrid faces and roundabout whispers of yours."

"Havelock's got you wrapped around his little finger, and you think it's a secret!" J'ACCUSE, PUCK.

Puck gapes.

And stares.

His jaw has dropped, his face turned pale; even his bright eyes seeming to drain of color in their complete and total shock.

"... I am not certain I should call his little finger precisely what I might be wrapped round."