#lucasmarlowe

[di--lestrudel]

The only difference in Lucas' appearance was a scar: it stretched from the corner of his jaw on his right side, reaching up toward his cheekbone but not quite making it all the way. It was only about an inch long, no longer as visible as previously. The last time he visited he had it; he'd forgotten if the Detective had seen it or not. Greg had beat him to the bag, allowing the agent to slip his hands into his suited pockets, grinning. "I didn't make you get attached to me."

Greg noticed that stupid scar. The sight of it made him sick to his stomach; it made it frighteningly real how dangerous Lucas's profession is. Greg realised he was being the over protective dad, but he had every reason to be. "You basically did." He retaliated, leading the way back out to his car. "Not to mention you only strengthen my attachmmt and worry when you come back with those." He indicated the scar before swinging the trunk open and putting the bag in.

[di--lestrudel]

Lucas' head popped up at the sight of the familiar forest-green voice, sending little webs of color in the corners of his eyes. The agent smiled, standing to greet Greg with an extended hand. "Good to see you, too," he responded with a smile, reciprocating with a complete indifference to anyone who cared to watch. It seemed most people didn't except for children. "You could take me home, for starters."

Striding up the rest of the way up to Lucas, Greg practically smacked the hand away. He ignored it in favour of pulling the man into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around him. "You're going to be the death of me, I swear." He said, gripping onto the agent-turned-son then finally releasing him. "C'mon, then." He muttered, leaning down to take the man's back then turn to the direction of the door.

[di--lestrudel]

"I'm staying. LM" He hit send, the suited Secret Agent quietly finding an empty seat at the airport. He took a seat off to the side, fully awake as he looked around, tugging his black suitcase beside him. Many others were flooding off and on other flights, so Lucas busied himself with watching them, his iPhone balancing on the black suit pants of his knee. ((We'll do ask until you're too tired to answer<3 Then just fly off and go to sleep ;u;))

[SMS; Lucas] Be there in a few. -GL

Well, he said a few, but the airport Lucas mentioned was quite a bit aways, and that coupled with traffic, it would probably take half an hour to get there. It been months, half a year actually, since he saw the mn he cinsidered to be his son amd not a day went by he didn't think about him. The entire way to the airport, Greg just tried to think about what to say to him.

Arriving at the airport, Greg is barely able to park before he's hopping out of his car and all but running into the building. He saw the man almost immediately and he stalked up to him. "Fucking hell." He said loudly, not caring who turned to look at his obscene language. "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

[di--lestrudel]

There's only so many times I've got my phone, and so many people I'm allowed to text at certain times. It was nearly impossible for me just to message someone to keep after the house, let alone tell my old man I was doing fine. I'm stuck on a plane ride back to London for about another 15 minutes. My schedule's so wracked right now that I just woke up for the morning, and the sun's beginning to set. it's 6AM in Iran right now. LM

Doesn't make it any bloody better. You know how it is, I thought you fucking died. I don't care what you have to do, you find a way to get a message to me. It's been months! What airport are you coming in? I'm picking you up. -GL

[di--lestrudel]

Nah, it's the other agent with the initials LPM. I've been a little bit busy, my apologies. I think I'm settled for a little while. How's life? LM

You're fucking hilarious. Too busy to text or phone? Jesus Christ, do you know how ridiculously worried I was? Still am. Life's fine. Normal. Where the hell are you? -GL

[di--lestrudel]

Long time, no talk. LM

[delayed text] Lucas, I swear to fuck, if this is you, I'm going to tear you limb from limb. Where the fuck have you been? -GL

[di--lestrudel]

Lucas grinned in return, stepping through the open doorway. “Well hey, you knew I was coming.” He looked at what Greg was wearing, snorting with the wave of his hand. “Don’t even worry about it. I overdress by force of habit.”

"Yes, I noticed." Greg said with a short laugh. He led Lucas through the hall and into the living room, eyeing the present, and he pointed to the small tree Greg had set up by the television. "You can put the under there for now. D'you want a drink?"

[di--lestrudel]

There was a knock at the door, a familiar young man standing behind it. He wore the customary suit and fedora combo, a green and red handkerchief folded neatly in his breast pocket. In his hands was a small box, wrapped in red and silver paper with a small, silvery bow on the top. He rolled on his fancy leather heels, waiting.

Greg had been sitting on his sofa, beer resting in his hand, watching some mindless crap telly when the knock at his door came and Greg was roused from his half-slumber. He groaned under his breath, rubbing his eyes with a yawn and he stood. He stumbled, still a little half-asleep, to the door and he threw it open. The man standing there woke him right up, his face instantly breaking out into a wide grin.

"I was beginning to worry you wouldn't make it." Greg said, stepping away from the door to let Lucas in. "Wpuld it have killed you to text?" Greg apraised him beflre looking down at himself. "Feel a bit underdressed now."