A Dark Justicar and a Canned Copper [Thread II]

[Tokoz]

Raising an eyebrow, Lassa hummed for a moment, then patted her sides. "And where exactly do you imagine I might be hiding wrenches here?" She picked up her bag and shook it for a moment. "The Dice are just to entertain myself on long trips. Can't depend on everyone to have them, after all." 

Simon had a point too. "A lot of crime goes on in those places, true. I actually had a mission around a Casino and some of the people associated. Scum all the way down. Gambling is always weighted in favor of the house, unfortunately. Unless you're in a small friendly game." 

When she got to Six 4s, Simon called her out. This time, though, she was pretty confident. She had three, and- 

DAMMIT! He had two 1s. Five total, one shy of the Six she needed. Simon had almost twice as much as her, and now the game had swung his way. Sighing, she watched as he slid the pile over his way. 

"Alright then, so good at this game are we?" She muttered, sliding one over. "Four 2s." He immediately raised, and she hummed for a moment. That was a big increase... but with this hand? Sure, why not. 

With a perfectly neutral expression, she slid over 8 buttons and tapped her cup. "Four 4s." Immediately, they were on to 5s, and a sharp rise to 10 buttons. Someone had gotten cocky with his back to back wins. 

Lassa looked at her cup for a moment, and then back at Simon. He might have more 5s, but at a guess, he had at least one, and probably a 1 as well. Time to take a swing at it, see if she could bait him in. "Six 6s." Sliding another 10 buttons across, she was left with only 3 on her side, and a whopping half the buttons in the pot. 

When she was called out, she watched as Simon revealed a 6 and a 1 on his side. Tipping the cup over, she gave a slight theatrical bow. 

"Unfortunately, it seems the shark couldn't quite finish the job." A 6, and 4 1s. More than enough to meet the total of Six required. Scooping a pile of chips over, she chuckled and gestured for him to continue, before sniffing. 

It seemed their cause for playing was coming due. Time to play hardball. "I'll put up Three 3s and 10 buttons, and in the meantime, I think the Brownies are ready." A second later, the timer buzzed, and she grinned. They'd need a bit to cool, but the smell was already making her mouth water a little. 

[Bobbie]

As Lassa posed a question of where a wrench could be hidden, Simon shrugged with a little smile and let the conversation flow. “The absolute worst, I’m pretty sure, is mixing work and serious betting. Never ends well. I don't know why people still do it.” he added, as he remembered a few times some individuals at the precinct referred to their ‘game nights’ that really didn’t sound so friendly at all.

Simon was doing pretty well and was pleased with himself for picking up on the game so quickly, even though there were times he really didn’t know what he was doing and just fired guesses randomly in hopes of getting a lucky shot in.

His latest call of liar was, perhaps, his least confident one, however. Whether it was a question or an accusation, he wasn’t entirely sure himself, but one quick glance at her buttons and he saw this as an opportunity for victory that he couldn't pass on. Unfortunately for him, the outcome was not at all what he expected, and his jaw quite literally fell open as she revealed to have four 1s. “No!” he exclaimed, dramatically and stared at the pile being swept away from him, “What are the odds? Four 1s and a 6...”

With a defeated sigh, he sat back in his seat, and playfully echoed Lassa’s words, “Couldn’t quite finish the job...” he scoffed, but a grin quickly returned to his face.

“Oh- yes, that’s my cue.” he stood up as the buzzer went off, taking the time to think about how to respond to her bet while he brought the brownies out of the oven with a thick cloth napkin to protect his hands. Pausing, he looked back at her, placing the tin on the countertop. “No cheating.” he looked at his cup, upturned with his dice safely hidden within it, then back at her with narrowed eyes, then he finally turned back to the brownies. Grabbing the mixture he had previously prepared, he poured the thick caramel sauce on top of the freshly baked brownies, the heat softening it enough for it to smoothly spread on their surface.

“Okay.” he sat down and tipped his cup to look at his dice again, letting out a soft hum. He didn’t have many threes. In fact he didn’t have many of any single number. Raising her one, he bet on five 3s and went back to the brownies for a bit, making full use of this distraction to mask his terrible attempt at bluffing. It was his only chance of escaping her scrutiny, which would be sure to notice his lie. As he returned to the table, the situation was not much better, as he bet four 5s, hoping to draw her into a mistake somewhere, but of course she seemed to pick up on that and called him out.

Raising his cup to reveal his dice, he tilted his head at her. “What was I supposed to do with these horrible numbers?”

Just like that, he was down to only 8 buttons. With the next round, his best option seemed to be to go all in. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the entirety of his remaining pile to the pot. It needed to be something that would prompt her to go higher to a ridiculous amount if she didn’t contest his claim. “Six 2s.” To his surprise, she added a seventh 2, and Simon looked worried. Holding his breath, he slowly tipped his cup and let it fall over. He glanced at Lassa’s dice.

“Only six 2s!” he exclaimed as he was suddenly 16 buttons richer. This seemed to be working, so he did it again, countering her next bet from four 2s to an exaggerated six 6s. Nervously, he bit his lip, watching Lassa with a knotted brow as she uttered the magic word. His gaze not leaving her, he raised his cup, but was afraid to look. “Do we have six?”

---

Simon: #d2ce2f

[Tokoz]

 Simon really was just astoundingly lucky. Lassa glowered down at the one remaining chip in his pile, and then at the two 6s and two 1s in his cup, followed by the two 6s in her own. Everything else she had was 2s. Six 6s seemed to be the clutch hand for this game. 

"Damnit, yes. I had two of em. And back we swing." Time to be bold. Looking at her hand, she had two 5s, two 4s, and a 3. Middle then, give room to raise. Pushing 20 chips over, she stared Simon down challengingly. 

"Four 4s." Time to see what Simon would do. He could try and increase the number, but the odds that he had three or more 4s in his hand seemed low. With this big of a bet, he could also fold, preventing her from forcing him into a higher bid. Would he back down, or ante up?

A proud smile crossed her face when he met her blow with an equal strike, throwing down 25 chips and betting Six 4s. Although... she only had 2. What were the odds that he had four of them? Probably some ones, so...

Five dice, 1/3rd chance that any given die was the right number. He needed four of them to be right.... that was a 1 in 20 chance, if she was reading the odds right. "Liar." 

The cups were flipped over, and indeed, Simon was just one 4 short. Sliding the absolute heap of chips over, Lassa chuckled. "Well, the brownies are probably cool enough to eat, and that seems like a dramatic conclusion. Want to continue and see if you can make a last stand, or happy to call it there?" To be honest, she was a fairly average cook, and those brownies smelled really good. She was a little curious what Simon would whip up for breakfast, although her lunch and dinner might be heavily supplemented by chocolate and caramel. 

It was fine, the caloric requirements of a Rokushiki user were high enough that she wasn't too concerned about the health problems of eating that many sweets. 

[Bobbie]

Simon’s eyes widened when Lassa said there actually were six 6s, including the wild 1s in the mix. A grin spread across his face and he started laughing, taking all the precious buttons back into his possession, his balance soaring from a very sad and lonely single button up to 31.

However, in the next round, the tides turned as almost all of his buttons were handed over and Lassa gained ownership of the vast majority of buttons. “What? No!” he dramatically let his head drop, “How could I have lost?” he looked at her again, one heck of a sport as despite his defeat, he couldn’t help a smile nonetheless. Winning wasn’t everything, and Lassa looked pretty darn cute hoarding all those buttons. “No, that’s alright. You win, fair and square.” he stood up, considering planting a single kiss on her cheek, but convinced himself not to do that in a heartbeat. It felt like an almost guaranteed way to be slapped or worse, sending her running for the hills.

Going to the countertop, he brought the tray of brownies over, getting the chocolaty slab out onto a plate now that the caramel topping had set to be solid enough to keep its shape. Grabbing a large knife - almost too large to be handled by someone as accident prone as Simon - he cut the large chunk into nine medium sized squares.

“Brownies are served, with a nice side of victory for you. Bitter defeat for me.” Bittersweet, he should say... this being more of a victory than it might have seemed. Making breakfast for Lassa was not the worst thing that could happen to him, plus, he was under the assumption that she was not planning on leaving and then returning tomorrow morning for breakfast. This thought didn't, however, raise another issue that he stupidly didn't think of before, and now that he had, he froze for a moment. There was one bed, and one uncomfortable couch.

---

Simon: #d2ce2f

[Tokoz]

 Chuckling slightly, Lassa picked up the buttons and slid them back into the container. Glancing at the lid, she laughed outright. "Huh. Lvneel Island Cookies from the North Blue. I swear, these seem to be the go-to for storing sewing supplies." Even the orphanage had a tin with needles, thread and spare buttons in it. Granted, the sewing tended to be more stitching wounds in Lassa's case, but they had convinced her to stop using the clothing repair tools for that by buying her a set of needles and medical thread. 

Putting the buttons away, she looked back to Simon slicing the brownies. Reaching over, she snagged one and took a bite. These were excellent. It seemed Simon had understood the assignment and managed to hit the ideal ratio of fluffy 'cake' to harder 'fudge' in a brownie, with drizzles of caramel throughout. "Ah, not so bitter, maybe. You'd be surprised how easy it is to make it so either defeat or victory brings you something you want." She winked at him, the somewhat unsubtle hint as to his framing of the prize for winning the game meant in good fun. 

As she finished chewing, she stretched, and gave a slight roll of her shoulders. She had already noticed the small and fairly rocky couch, and her tall frame would be relatively unlikely to fit on it. She could curl up if she had more room, and often did so, although the immensely variable height of people in this world meant that many beds were made on the slightly longer end anyway. 

"So."

"Where am I sleeping tonight?"

She had seen him freeze, and had a pretty good idea of what was going through his head. Did he relegate her to the couch or the floor, or try and offer her the bed and take the couch himself? He could also go for Third Option, but she was pretty sure the very idea would be making him sweat just thinking about it. Thus, she decided to make the problem even harder. Whether or not he answered immediately, she stood.  

"I need to clean up after all that. Gonna steal your shower for a moment." Standing up, she headed over to the bathroom and closed the door with a click of the lock. Thankfully, getting undressed was a lot more simple now. As she began to scrub her head, she mulled over how she felt about the whole thing. 

A few minutes later, she exited, hair mostly dried by a towel and wearing what appeared at first to be a suit, but a few seconds of movement revealed to be suit-patterned pajamas. Rubbing her head with the towel, she blinked a few times and yawned. "Shower's free if you wanted it." 

[Bobbie]

Laughing at her observation, Simon offered a light shrug. The tin was his grandmother’s, but he supposed that by simply owning it, the tradition of storing sewing supplies in this fashion would carry on. It seemed like a staple - loose buttons belonged in tins.

As he took one of the brownies himself, he took a bite out of the corner and then smiled. “Yeah? Huh... Well what do I know? I’m no expert in this field.” he replied, though he knew that she knew... it was his plan all along. He continued to eat his brownie and tried to act as naturally as he could. “Not bad,” he muttered, though the most satisfying part of his brownies were not that he enjoyed them, but that she did.

Lassa then asked a very important question that he knew was bound to come, but he was hoping for more time before he’d have to answer it. His heart fluttered and for a moment he wondered if it was going to burst out of his chest as she confirmed that she would be spending the night there with him. However, he also nearly choked on the brownie. Luckily, it was soft and fudgy enough to go down with a few extra swallows. “Where...?” that was as far as he got with his question, before she said that she would be using his shower. “Uh, yeah, of course! Use whatever you need from the shelves.” he called after her just before he heard the click of the bathroom door lock.

Once she was out of sight, he let out a long sigh, though an involuntary smile appeared on his face as he quite happily placed the brownies in a container to keep them sealed and as fresh as possible. He had just put the cups away in the cupboard again before he turned and was met with a scene of Lassa that turned the man’s insides into hot mush.

The pyjamas were perfect - they resembled her suit to maintain the formal appearance that she always had, the respectable air about her, but they were still pyjamas, and she looked comfortable. Looking absolutely adorable as she yawned, Simon swallowed dry air, trying his very best not to freak out and to keep his legs steady. “That was a quick shower.” he said, his voice going higher as it was wont to do in situations of such a stressful nature. “So... where you’re going to sleep...” he paused, starting to sweat as he pushed the container of brownies to the centre of the kitchen table. “I would never put you on the couch, so... if you want the bed...” he cleared his throat. “We could... it’s big enough for two people, is what I’m saying.” he blurted out the latter half of his sentence, red-faced, as he made the decision to rip off the band-aid. “But I can take the couch, if you’re not comfortable with that! Totally fine.”

Simon silently congratulated himself for having the guts to get that out, however fragmented it was. He made it clear what his first preference was, but offered an alternative that would ensure she would be comfortable.

The only question left now was... what's Lassa's preference?

---

Simon: #d2ce2f

[Tokoz]

 "You learn to shower fast doing what I do. Either that or get up early enough that you can be sure nobody's used all the hot water yet. After several people getting up at 3 am for a week in a row, two fistfights and an attempted kidnapping, we just settling on speedshowering." Lassa said blandly, making it wholly unclear whether or not she was kidding. 

After a relieved glance at the couch, she looked back. "Good to hear you wouldn't put me on that. I'm not sure my back would survive it." She quipped, finishing drying her hair and opening a window. Holding the towel outside, she opened her hands. As it vanished, and a small rainfall of water suddenly no longer bound by cloth fell to the ground, she shut it again. 

"In that case, I've been awake for the past 20 hours, it's well past midnight, and I'm exhausted. Bedtime." She strode towards the bedroom, and if Simon was still dithering, an expectant look was thrown his way. Entering, she placed her bag off to one side and gave the bed a look for a moment. Taking the edge of the blanket, she whipped it up into the air and cracked it a few times. A new sheet spilled out, and she lay them both down on the bed again. 

Lassa turned back and gave Simon a slightly sad smile for a moment, illuminated by the moonlight streaming in, and shrugged. 

"Don't want my toes poking out, after all." With that, Lassa climbed into the bed and wriggled a bit, getting comfortable. When Simon eventually made his way into bed as well, he would find himself wrapped in Lassa's arms very quickly. When one person was significantly taller than the other, the decision of Big Spoon was not a hard one to make.  

She didn't speak at first. Then, in a gruff and faintly raw tone, she mumbled into the top of his head. "This might break your heart, you know? I wasn't saying what I said earlier to be mean. It was the truth. I can't... talk about a lot of my life. Not because I don't trust you, I just... can't. If this... is. It won't be a storybook thing, it'll be messy and hard to figure out. You know that, right?" 

It had been a rather wild night, but Lassa was forced to admit the fact that she did care for Simon. Whether or not it would last, or whether this could even work was a question she was not remotely equipped to answer in this silent, still moment, moonlight framing their forms as they lay there. Nor was she equipped to deal with the truth hinted at by the shadow their forms left on the wall. One reminiscent of a smaller creature being surrounded by some vast predatory monster.

It was a harsh job she did, and one she wondered if Simon would truly understand. Maybe that was part of the reason she was hesitant to acknowledge the implications out loud. 

[Bobbie]

Simon stared at Lassa as she gave her explanation as to why she was so quick with her showers. He was genuinely unsure whether she was joking or not, but it didn’t sound like something inconceivable for someone involved in the kind of work that Lassa did, even with the very little bit that Simon could piece together.

As she began to walk in the direction of the bedroom, he nodded, assuming that would mean he gets the couch while she takes the bed. He would have been fine with that, after having spent an evening that he never imagined he would get to experience with her. It was enough. It could have been enough... then he saw the look that she gave him, and everything changed - entirely smitten by Lassa, man or woman, he suddenly craved more, his entire body desiring to be by their side for a little longer.

Following her into the room, he watched her create a second sheet to cater for her height and felt a stinging in his chest caused by the hint of sadness in her smile. As alluring as her astonishing height was, it must have been difficult at times.

“I’ll have a quick shower and join you in a moment.” he smiled, grabbing some clean clothes from a drawer and disappeared into the bathroom. The safety of the bathroom where he could set his worries free and allow all the freaking out to happen because he had Lassa currently lying in his bed. Lassa... was, at this very moment... in. His. Bed. Simon never considered himself a lucky person - at best, maybe he was a lucky unlucky person, if one could see past that paradox - but tonight might have just shown otherwise.

His shower thoughts needed to be consciously stopped or he’d last an age in there, and his goal was to hurry. While he wasn’t as skilled in the shower speed-run style that Lassa was, he made it out in under ten minutes and soon returned to the bedroom in a t-shirt and more casual sweatpants. Crawling into bed, he let out a tired sigh, his body aching from the number of blows it took that evening, yet only moments later, it all seemed to be washed away as he was enveloped in Lassa’s warm embrace. Her arms wrapped around him, it was like he was pulled into a carefree space, as if he were lying in a vacuum that housed only Lassa and himself. It was a feeling that he’d never felt before and it brought a gentle smile to his face as a certain calmness fell over him.

Reaching up to hold her arm that lay over him, his own slick with cooling gel to soothe his skin from the burn, he listened to her voice, so close. “I know...” he spoke softly, in response, his voice barely needing to be more than a whisper to be heard in the quiet of the night. While he was optimistic, he didn't think he let that blind him. This would probably hurt at some point, everything that Lassa said was true, and Simon knew it, yet somehow, he just couldn’t place that concern for himself in the forefront. “Like I said, you’ll get it back in one piece...” a soft smile formed shadows on his cheeks, accentuated by the moonlight that blanketed them.

Simon’s consciousness would wait for silence to once again fill the air before he would drift away into the most peaceful sleep he’s had in a very long time.

---

Simon: #d2ce2f

[Tokoz]

 It took a moment, but her muscles untensed slightly. She felt the soft change that marked Simon's passage into sleep, his words still echoing in her head. The stillness of the room helped make the world fade away, and for a moment, she could forget the duties and missions, the responsibilities and the flaws with this happening. 

It still seemed like a bad idea, but then, few relationships really fit the idealized storybook definition that was painted for people as children. Maybe it wasn't so bad to have something to come back to besides the job. It's not like Water 7 was hard to get to. "I hope so, Simon."

Feeling the soft rumble of Simon's breath against her chest, she shifted slightly to get comfortable and drew the blankets more firmly over them. It was... odd, to see someone so willing to be vulnerable around her, even after knowing what she could do. It had been a long, long time since she was willing to be vulnerable around someone else either. 

Smiling a little to herself, Lassa drifted off to sleep as well. 

When morning came, she eventually stirred awake. Slipping out of the bed so as not to disturb Simon, she headed off to do her morning business. Staring into the mirror for a second, she grumbled, and then fumbled in her bag for a vial.

When he emerged from the bathroom, his face was washed and he was wearing an undershirt and his dress slacks. His bag had been set down by the wall, and he mulled over going to sleep again. Unfortunately, it seemed he was too awake by now. Shrugging, he decided to fix a pot of coffee and get started on some daily exercises. 

That was likely how Simon would find him, doing hand-stand pushups, taking sips of a cup of coffee, and reading the daily World Economic Journal in the middle of the living room floor. "Morning. How'd you sleep?" 

The face was one of innocence, both because of the nature of the question, and because of the additional brownie currently gone MIA from the brownie container, and definitely not washed down with a cup of coffee to fuel a morning workout. 

[Bobbie]

As Simon awoke, he frowned at the emptiness on the other side of his bed. She was either gone, or he left her waiting for breakfast. Staggering out of bed, he ran a hand through his hair, making the mess that it was even worse before it got better, and winced as he felt the wound on his forehead from the other day stinging. Grabbing his broken sunglasses off the bedside table, he looked at his reflection - he was right. It did look worse the next day.

He parted his hair to fix some strands over it to cover the wound as best he could. There was no point in making him feel worse about it, Lassa already seemed to feel guilty for it as it was. Then he made his way out of the bedroom to look for Lassa. Surely she didn’t leave...

Entering the living room on his way to the kitchen, he raised his eyebrows and stared, freezing at the sight of Lassa, as a male, doing hand stand pushups in his living room. She’s a he and he did not leave. There was something about the surprise of seeing Lassa in a different form that gave Simon butterflies - it was like seeing them for the first time all over again, even though it wasn’t. All of last nights emotions seemed to come rushing back and he cleared his throat, warming up before trying to speak. “Morning.” he smiled, putting in a lot of effort to keep his gaze under control - in the middle of such an activity, it was easy to allow his gaze to wander, but he quickly brought it back to Lassa's face, upside down as it happened to be.

“I slept very well, actually. What about you?” he walked past him, heading to the kitchen, where he noticed the brownie container had been moved and one was missing. Then the glorious coffee pot was spotted, which had been prepared by none other than Lassa, and Simon filled a glass for himself, graciously. “Thank you for the coffee. So I was thinking pancakes, unless you’re already set?” he walked back out to the living room, hiding a playful smirk behind his cup of coffee that he just took a sip from. "You could have woken me up. You're definitely not something I wouldn't enjoy waking up to."

---

Simon: #d2ce2f

[Tokoz]

Finishing up the routine, Lassa hopped back onto their feet and focused on Simon, rolling his shoulders for a second and smiling. "No problem. It may have been a somewhat self-motivated coffee making, but no reason we can't both benefit from it." Taking a sip, he tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he considered the bruise. 

"Try getting a hot water bottle and holding it against that for about 20 minutes every couple hours. Should make it fade pretty quickly." Not to be flippant, but Lassa can and did get much worse, after all. He had learned to deal with small wounds and bruises pretty fast, even before he became a doctor. Sitting down at the table, he nodded.

"I slept pretty well too, to answer the question. Pancake sound great as well. I do have to get going before too long, need to check on a few things and get a ticket before they sell out." He also had to stake out the train station and try to steal a conductor's unif- Oh! No, wait, that one was taken care of. This Devil Fruit business had worked out fantastically. Not having to try and find the right fit of clothing every time he wanted to go undercover. Magnificent. 

"And yes, I could have woken you up, but you seemed like you needed the sleep." He chuckled, taking another sip of coffee and sighing as the liquid burned down his throat. "Besides, I am a MESS in the mornings. Whole strands of hair out of place, clothing slightly rumpled. It's ghastly." 

Setting the coffee down, he enjoyed the morning sunlight for a moment before tapping his chin. "I... don't have a very easy way to get in contact with me, but if you leave a letter at the post office for this mailbox, I'll swing by and check it. If it's an emergency, well... get to safety first and then I'll take it from there. I don't know when I'll get back here, will probably be a few weeks at least." 

Made sense to get the practicalities dealt with, even if it felt a bit... perfunctory. He would probably have to lean on his Soru a little to get around to the right places before the train left at 6. There was no rest for this agent, it seemed. Not for long anyway. 

[Bobbie]

“Hot? Really?” he asked, in surprise and nodded, “I would have gone with cold... good to know.” he muttered, planning on doing that after Lassa left. Which, apparently, was going to be relatively soon - perhaps pancakes weren’t the best option after all, he didn’t have a ready made batter.

“Maybe toast would be better, then...” turning to the breadbox on top of the fridge, he pulled out a loaf of bread and cut four slices to have two each, then lit the gas stove to heat up an iron skillet with a little bit of butter to crisp and flavour the bread. Facing the iron pan for a moment as he plopped two slices of bread into it, he took a deep breath, letting his thoughts flow, silently.

Better get used to this.

That smile of his came rolling back, however, when Lassa described what he considered to be a mess, and he turned to look at Lassa with a stifled chuckle. “You call that a mess? Might be a good thing you were up before me and didn’t see how I got out of bed then.” he joked, before looking down at his plain t-shirt and loose trousers. “Not that I'm much better now. Pretty sure this still fits into that description, but...” he shrugged as if it couldn’t be helped. At least he fixed his hair.

Turning back to the breakfast he was preparing, he flipped the slices of toast and let them brown for a bit while he took out two plates, then two jars of homemade jam. “Hmm, orange or strawberry jam? Or neither, of course, there's also just plain butter.” he asked, setting them both down on the table as if seeing them could contribute to his decision.

While Lassa was left with those, Simon returned to the slices of bread and plated the two toasted ones, before starting with the next pair, sipping his coffee in between tasks. It was at this moment when Lassa mentioned having no easy way to make contact. Nodding soberly, Simon turned to him once more and returned to the table to pick up whichever one of the two jams he didn’t want, if not both of them altogether. “Letter at the post office, got it.” he still held onto the mailbox address Lassa had left for him the first time they met. “Can I ask anything about where you’re going?” he asked in a concerned tone, but was prepared for an unfavourable reply. Lassa did warn him about this.

The smell of burning toast pulled Simon away as he saw to the last remaining slices of toast, a little bit darker than the first ones. Taking a knife to spread the jam with, he grabbed the two plates and came back to the table, placing the one that looked more appetising in front of Lassa, and his at his own seat. Picking up his coffee and anything else that may have been requested, he finally sat down.

A few weeks at least... sounds... unbearable.

---

Simon: #d2ce2f

[Tokoz]

 Nodding, Lassa tapped his forehead for a second. "Gets the blood flowing, helps move it away from there. Cold is good for the pain but warm is good for getting things moving." 

Thankfully, Simon picked up on the comment about time and chose toast instead. Not a tremendously filling breakfast, but still better than Lassa got sometimes. 

"Strawberry sounds nice.... I might try the orange though. Strawberry is everywhere." Reaching over, Lassa examined the jars, taking a light sniff. The orange sounded good, and it smelled good too. Definitely Orange then. 

As the toast was slid over, Lassa applied the jam and took a bite, savoring the fruity preserve as he watched Simon struggle a bit with the recent comments about contact. When he asked where he was going, Lassa had to cough awkwardly. "So, believe it or not, I can't tell you. Not because it's a secret, but because I don't... know? I'm on the way back from another job, I haven't reported in yet. I'll find out what my next assignment is then. It tends to be fairly quick though, mostly travel time."

He considered mentioning that he stayed within Paradise, but even that might be too much. He liked Simon, he really did, but he couldn't trust him implicitly. It had only been a few meetings, after all. That was how intelligence agents got dead. Draining the last of his coffee, he sighed, watching the concern on Simon's face as he sat. 

"I know this will be hard. If you change your mind over the time I'm away, I understand." He didn't want to put this entirely on Simon's shoulders, but he also couldn't change his life too much. His work was too important. Glancing at the sun going up, he frowned. He had to be leaving soon, but not without making sure Simon was... relatively... okay with how things were ending this morning. Or beginning.

He might be having a minor internal panic about this. Just a little romantic indecision, as a treat. 

[Bobbie]

Simon was surprised that Lassa went for the orange one over the strawberry one, though it made sense. If anybody didn’t fit into a conventional box, it would be Lassa, and strawberry did seem to be the more popular of the two.

Upon his decision, the jar of strawberry jam was taken away and soon a plate of toast replaced it. Spreading some of the jam over his own toast, he watched Lassa, for many reasons... Firstly, he simply enjoyed watching Lassa. Secondly, he wanted to gauge his reaction to try and find out if he liked the toast and jam without having to ask, and, thirdly, he was concentrating on what he was saying. Well, concentrating was a strong word with such a huge distraction right in front of him, but he was listening.

“Oh?” he nodded - Simon did recall a comment about being awake for 20 hours before they both headed in for the night. All that travel sounded unpleasant, however. “Okay... was your last one a success?” he didn’t know what the job was and he didn’t think there would be a point in asking, but something like an agent’s success rate was relevant. It didn’t guarantee anything, but it offered a good idea of the chances that things would go smoothly and Lassa returning whole.

He looked down at his own toast, and took a large bite, filling his mouth while he had nothing to say for a few moments. This will be hard... but he didn’t get hit in the face with a wrench for nothing. Rather than a look of worry in response to Lassa’s statement, he responded to it with a smile. Could he say with certainty that he wouldn’t change his mind? No... he couldn’t say that Lassa wouldn’t either.

“I don’t chase after many things in my life, Lassa.” he paused and shrugged, “But... I think setting my sleeve on fire and baking brownies for you is some indication that I won’t be letting go of this very easily. Not from my end.” Now that he had said it, he hoped that would indeed remain the reality. It wasn't that he dismissed or downplayed the challenge that this brought with it, it was just... well... as unambitious as the man is, perhaps he had the sense to know when something was worth rolling his sleeves up for and putting in the work. 

Once he got through one slice of toast, he pushed the container of brownies to Lassa's side of the table, “Brownies that you’re taking with you, right?” his smile grew into a wide grin that said he won’t be taking no for an answer. “I want the container back.”

---

Simon: #d2ce2f

[Tokoz]

 "Mmm. Relatively." Lassa coughed, remembering his last few missions. Bupae Island, Bravo Bravissimo, that weird ambush on the ship. "Things got weird but I managed to deal with them. Got the job done, anyway." He could tell Simon was nervous, but there wasn't much else he could say that wasn't a comforting lie at best. 

When Simon spoke up about his recent activities, and setting the sleeve on fire, Lassa had to laugh. "Some indication, yes." Glancing out the window and judging the time again, he winced. "Ah, dammit. Maybe I should have woken you up." Gulping down the last of the toast, he wiped his mouth off. Snagging the brownies with one hand, he nodded. 

"I'll make sure to return it, don't worry. Not like the brownies are going to last long." he admitted with a rueful grin. Sliding it into his bag, he finished cleaning his face off with the napkin. Turning, he paused for a moment. 

Should he....

Ah, to hell with it. 

Leaning over, he kissed Simon on the cheek, winked at him, and then dashed for the window. As he moved, he focused, and a new dress shirt and suit jacket appeared around his body. Snatching his hat off the couch, he turned and sat on the window sill. "See you later!" With that, he fell backwards out of the window, catching the edge with his hand and letting himself fall to the ground safely. Heading off down the alley, he quickly ran over his business in his head. 

Hours later, Lassa found himself sitting in the back of one of the train cars. The sun was going down, but not close to setting yet as the Sea Train pulled away from Water 7. As the city began to fade in the distance, he glanced across at the man who had sat down in the seat across from him. 

"When did you clock me?'

The only other passenger in the car shrugged. "Not until you got on the train. I was actually heading back to tell the Director I couldn't find you. Consider it your win. Have a good day in hiding?" 

Lassa glanced out the window for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, I did." Smiling softly, he watched the city of Water 7 fade into the distance. It had been a good day, indeed. 






".... Okay." Said the other agent, as Lassa kept staring out the window lost in thought. "Guess this'll be a quiet trip then. Blow me off, whydontcha."