milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Tucker is in a booth, scowling at some Hot Pockets.

Philly Steak & Cheese. Of course.

"Rocket launchers?" He's grinning. "Intense."

Yep.

*She's grinning, too, taking another sip of her Coors and laughing.*

Indeed. Needs to go fuckin' fast, when we're blasting the heads off of the once-dead.

Tucker drinks some more Jack & Coke. "Sounds like a pretty fucking good time."

Although Tucker prefers other methods of killing.

*Grin. Wider than ever.*

You bet it is. We go in a group of five -- now it's six, considering Po -- and just blow shit up.

"That's your thing, right? Blowing shit, uh, up?"

*Slack looks at him for a minute.

And puts her drink down.

And laughs.*

Ha! Yes, you could say that. Definitely in more ways than one.

Tucker smirks. It actually manages to land on the sexy side of sleazy.

"Very nice."

For a price.

*Pause. This pause provided courtesy of Viewers Like You.*

Usually, at any rate.

"I see." Smirk, smirk.

~~This is Tucker's 'I'll be your unusual situation' face.~~

*Slack narrows her eyes. And then winks.*

I can tell you do.

*And she takes another sip of her drink. It's part of the job, part of her style - one doesn't really offer.*

Tucker is totally checking out the view, now. It's covert. Almost.

"Exactly how does one, uh, define unusual?"

If I know someone and like someone already, and I'm asked? Freebie isn't below me.

I'm civil, at least. Not in the business because I'm a gold-digger, certainly not.

*Almost is enough for her to notice, and she cocks her head to the side a little, smiling.*

Tucker climbs up on the table next to her. "Really." He leans over and whispers into her ear, taking this opportunity to get a good look at her, uh, 'assets.'

Indeed.

*With absolutely no preamble, Slack kisses him.*

Really.

Tucker kisses back hard, and reaches behind him blindly for a key or two.

*Quietly, she says,*

Fancy yourself unusual?

*and laughs. Innocently.*

"Yep." Grin.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only