gevrgie:
âwould i be calling it brilliant if it wasnât actually brilliant, dandelion?â she asked with a small raise of her brow, a serious look on her face only lasting a few moments before she smirked. âgod, youâre terrible,â she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest like an upset little kid. âi honestly canât tell you where we are going yet. i am just⊠letting my feet carry me somewhere and you are coming with me. i promise to only keep what we do tonight as a misdemeanor. no felonies will be committed. is that good enough?â she turned to him, gripping his hands and giving him a gently tug towards the door. âbeer pong at the parthenon? on the parthenon?â she suggested, the idea hitting her as soon as she had already said she didnât know what she was playing, but the idea of drinking games was tempting. ânow, will you follow me?â
âI think perhaps the brilliance in your idea is being mistaken for improvisationâthough we mustnât discount the genuine genius of improv. I miss Whoâs Line, Georgie, and frankly I think you would have made an excellent occasional guest star. Or overzealous audience member,â Riggs continued on even through the woman prompting him closer to the door. With all her effort and the mention of a felony, the mountain of a man slowly moved with her.
âDrinking on the Parthenon is very likely to get us arrested, and by us I mean you, and by you I mean only if you canât run fast enough,â he said. And he sympathizedâfit as he was, Riggs detested running with every fiber in his being. He theorized he would have hated getting arrested just as much, but hadnât had the experience. Three times he came so close and with a combination of sheer dumb luck, the right words (divine intervention), and a few right connections, Riggs left each encounter without a blotch on his record. âTo clarify, I am interested in illegality but from a professional standpoint Iâm primarily hands off.â














