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His dry response nearly made Lisa laugh at the irony. She had always employed a bit of flirtation when dealing with people (specially the hero types) all the while being one of the most untouched people of her generation. Then again, its hard to stop being a virgin when you’ve got as many trust issues as she did. “Stories are only complicated when people make them complicated. People love drama and getting into all the little details of a story. Why muddy the water just so it can be filed away in a dusty box?” She asks casually, as her body had returned to its seemingly fully relaxed state. One of the last things Lisa wanted was for any police office to finally have her name on any sort of file. The youngest Snart had managed to keep her record clean. A shocking comparison to that of her father and brother. That didn’t mean she didn’t get into trouble (mostly at her brother’s side), it just meant she didn’t get caught. Lisa smirks at his last comment while she gets closer to him, looking him up and down. “The dry wit without a British accent for one. Secondly, your job and the level of enthusiasm you seem to have. And thirdly, your body language is too stiff and uptight for it to have enjoyed any good fun lately.”
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Jim shrugged. “The devil is in the details,” he said. “And sometimes the devil is the only one telling you the truth.” Another shrug lifted his shoulders as she spoke. “It’s part of the job,” he said. “And sometimes the dusty boxes come back out.” If there was anything he’d learned in all his time on the job, everything was connected in one way or another. The criminal community was smaller than most people suspected. Although maybe his vision of it all was skewed -- he’d spent a long time dealing with the Rogues. He raised an eyebrow as she stepped closer to him, though he stood his ground, meeting her gaze squarely. A soft snort fell from his lips as she spoke, looking at her. “I didn’t realize an English accent was a prereq for a dry wit,” he said. “I’ll have to tell the rest of the guys at the station. I’m not the only one, you know.” Harvey would probably have a field day trying to do a British accent if Jim ever mentioned this to him. He shrugged again. “Why shouldn’t I be enthusiastic about the job?” he said. “It pays the bills, after all.” Not particularly well, but he did fine. He could take care of himself and Peter when he had the boy on weekends, and his daughter on the off-chance that she needed anything from him now that she was all grown up. He snorted. “It’s good posture,” he said, though sarcasm dripped from his tone. “Nothing wrong with that.”















