B.P.R.D. headquarters

[walking_napalm]

Liz doesn't smoke very often. She used to go through a whole lot of cigarettes (fireproof and with lungs that seem to be pretty inured to smoke -- why not?), but she fell out of the habit while at Bellamie, and never went back to her old dizzying heights of smoke and chemical inhalation afterward.

Once in a while, though, she'll find an old pack or feel the itch. Tonight, it was the latter, and the roof's as good a place as any to do some thinking. Her back resting against concrete and her knees drawn up, she has a lit cigarette balanced loosely between her pointer and middle fingers, her forearm resting on her knees. It's a nice night; the stars aren't all that visible (they never are, in Trenton), but Liz has a sweater and half a pack of cigarettes. She's comfortable.

Comments

[walking_napalm]

"Those are some bargaining chips," Liz says, half rolling her eyes and half laughing.

She glances up at him; one side of her mouth curves. "I'd settle for the jar thing. And maybe a kiss or two."

Maybe.

[bprd_agent_red]

"Deal."

With that said he leans forward and presses his lips to hers.

[walking_napalm]

She closes her eyes and leans up into the kiss, her free hand on his upper arm. Her mouth is tilted in an almost-but-not-quite smile, which settles down after a second or two.



Liz draws back. "Oh!" (God knows why she remembered right now, but she remembered right now. Sorry, Red.) "I totally forgot--" She folds her legs Indian-style. "I saw Coyote again while I was in Milliways. I'm probably going to help her out with a problem in Vegas; I don't know when yet."

These things are good to mention, especially considering all the shit she's given him for going off on potentially dangerous Milliways adventures without mentioning them to her.

[bprd_agent_red]

His arm goes around her waist and he's just getting ready to draw her closer when she breaks off.

"Vegas?" He tilts his head at her. "What's goin' on there?"

And can he come?

[walking_napalm]

"I'm not completely sure," she admits. "There's some kind of a supernatural bad guy threatening people; Coyote's getting help from Milliways. She's supposed to get back to me on the details."

[bprd_agent_red]

"Huh. Must be pretty gutsy, showing up in a big town like that."

[walking_napalm]

Liz frowns.

"That's a good point," she says slowly. "It must be."

She shakes it off; taps ash from her cigarette and rests her wrist on the arm that's slung around her waist.

"Coyote seemed to think it was a pretty big threat, whatever it is. So--" she shrugs one shoulder, "I said if she really needed the help, I'd go."

[bprd_agent_red]

"Gonna need a hand?"

Since she hasn't asked, he'll offer.

[walking_napalm]

"I asked," Liz says, her eyes flicking up to him. A little (just a little) apologetic: "Coyote said she was looking for a team that could fit into a crowd."

She pats his arm, kidding now. "I'll shoot something for you."

[bprd_agent_red]

"You don't think I'd fit in in Vegas?" He's kidding of course, but there's a small measure of disappointment in his smile.

"Just lemme know when you're going, if you want I'll buy you tickets to a show with Myers credit card."

[walking_napalm]

Liz snorts, nudging his shoulder lightly. "So generous," she says. "Thanks anyway, but I'm not sticking around Vegas any longer than I have to. Too much glitz. Way too much sand."

She tilts her chin up. She lowers her voice; leans in. "I don't think you'll be missing much."

(Famous last words.)

[bprd_agent_red]

"Well you gotta at least play some games," He insists. "Can't go to Vegas without gambling just a little."

When she leans in he looks down at her and forgets about Vegas.

"I might miss you."

Someone's been watching old sappy movies again.

[walking_napalm]

"Hey." This is Liz's bemused, sassy face, as she stubs out her cigarette on the rooftop; she doesn't look away from him. "You want me to be in the World Poker Championships, or come back sooner?"

Liz's preference is (and she is telegraphing it quite clearly) 'come back sooner.'

[bprd_agent_red]

He knows what answer she wants but he pretends to debate a long moment before giving it. With a grin.

"Sooner. Definitely sooner."

Beat.

"After all, you got a lousy poker face."

[walking_napalm]

Liz's poker face is pretty bad.

"Yours isn't much better," she points out, one side of her mouth tipped up. She brushes his jaw with a thumb.

She doesn't exactly mind that neither of them is a terribly good liar.

[bprd_agent_red]

"Maybe we should get some cards and practice, then."

His chin tilts to her light touch.

"When you get back."

[walking_napalm]

"Maybe," Liz says, and it's the kind of 'maybe' that means 'you're so on.'

She leans up a couple of inches and kisses him softly, sliding her hand from his jaw to his cheek. She keeps her hand where it is even after she leans back just enough to say, "Maybe I'll pick up some tips in Vegas."

[bprd_agent_red]

He returns the kiss and brushes his temple against hers when she breaks it.

"Maybe I'll do some marathon watchin' of high stakes poker."

[walking_napalm]

"Maybe," Liz says, her smile audible, "we could go inside now."

[bprd_agent_red]

"Yeah," He nods barely, tightening his arm around her briefly then loosens his hold and takes her hand. "Let's do that."