@prizexfighter // liked my starter call
They're out. Alone. Together, but alone. Their mutual friend had... insisted. Too dangerous to be anywhere completely alone, they said. Too dangerous my ass, he'd said back. They didn't appreciate that much.
And so here he was, his usual routine of changing his identity from place to place interrupted and pointless now that she wouldn't stop hitting on him. That's what she was doing, right? He wasn't just imagining things?
Deacon thinks he's too old for this nonsense. Which is saying something; nonsense is his second favorite thing, right under shenanigans.
"Betcha can't pick that one," he says, nodding to yet another safe in the long abandoned bank they'd set up in for the night. Cait had been practicing her lock-picking skills, which he thought were probably good enough she really didn't need to, but at least it was endlessly fascinating to watch. Every click of bobby-pin on tumbler went straight to his... heart. Honest.