The mixture of smoke and bacon grease made him feel at home. Whistler leaned back in his seat, fished out his soft pack of Lucky Sevens and joined the Slayer in a cigarette.
"Yeah. I like the sound of that." With the cigarette perched in the corner of his mouth, the Agent grabbed a napkin and wiped his hands, then held one out. "If we're starting at square one, I guess that means you don't owe me a hat?" He smirked at the brunette.
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ninetydegrees
no subject
on 2013-12-20 01:34 am (UTC)"Yeah. I like the sound of that." With the cigarette perched in the corner of his mouth, the Agent grabbed a napkin and wiped his hands, then held one out. "If we're starting at square one, I guess that means you don't owe me a hat?" He smirked at the brunette.