“Yeah, sure.” He mumbled to himself, glad to be handed the beer he ordered at least. A good old beer that wasn’t too heavy but enough that after a few rounds he would be ready to sleep.
“I’m nearly certain it burned down from a fault in the machinery. But I guess I wouldn’t know.” long sip, “guess they never told you I was the detective behind the fire and that we concluded that it was an out of date factory anyways which helped spread the fire.”
Now he was the one smirking, a hint of pride in his British voice. Almost like he was also somewhat bullshitting him. Of course there was truth behind it but he wasn’t on that case, at that time he was working to try and find the chain thief of some stores.
“I was going to ask what kind of person are you but your criminal record precedes your attitude.” It was just a really bizarre record. Nothing harmful just weird and that’s certainly what made his face and name a bit more memorable than the rest. Especially in a kind odd but relaxed town like this.
Roberts expression fell for a second. He looked all too serious until he let out a small laugh. It was refreshing to have someone who would bullshit him back and while he wouldn’t admit it– not for now; he was beginning to like this guy. As much as he could like someone.
Although he was surprised the man hadn't commented on his visible tattoo. Let alone notice it. Most assumed it was gang related afterall. Regardless, he ordered up two rounds of whiskey this time, sliding a glass over to the detective.
“ I'd say the opposite for you. For a fed, you’re solid gold. What’s your name? ”
prguitarman
kianamaiart
2087
germansingergirl
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
discoholicmusic
romaincrisis
