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[So maybe Jimmy's not always in the habit of hanging around shirtless, but he sure is right now. Hey, who can blame him? It's hot outside. And besides, he's pretty sure that Angela's not going to be complaining about it, although she might tease him for it. At the moment, though, he's just sitting on the couch, feet up, having a drink. Totally innocent, right?]
[Far be it for her to complain about a barechested man in her house, much less on her couch. However, she is going to complain about his feet propped up on her coffee tables. That thing was not only a gift, but a pricy one. No scuff marks her her belongings now.]
Get off. [She smacks the toe of his shoe as she passes by on her way somewhere in the house.] You're gonna mess it up.
Get off. [She smacks the toe of his shoe as she passes by on her way somewhere in the house.] You're gonna mess it up.
That's all I get? No "hi, nice to see you"? Just "hey Jimmy, you're a fuckup."
[He's grinning, though, and he takes his feet off the table, mostly for the purpose of standing up and following after her.]
[He's grinning, though, and he takes his feet off the table, mostly for the purpose of standing up and following after her.]
Well, if Jimmy wasn't fucking up, maybe he would get a "hi, nice to see you".
[And Angela means that in the most loving of ways, even with a laugh, as she heads into the kitchen, knowing he's following her like an imprinted duck. Pulling open the fridge, she leans down to peer into it, looking for things to throw together for a quick dinner.]
[And Angela means that in the most loving of ways, even with a laugh, as she heads into the kitchen, knowing he's following her like an imprinted duck. Pulling open the fridge, she leans down to peer into it, looking for things to throw together for a quick dinner.]
Yeah, but it's kinda a well known fact that Jimmy's always fuckin' up, so...
[If she's leaning over, he's going to take the opportunity to slide a hand onto her lower back. That's his version of a "hi, nice to see you."]
[If she's leaning over, he's going to take the opportunity to slide a hand onto her lower back. That's his version of a "hi, nice to see you."]
You'd think Jimmy would stop fucking up, but that's pretty much like getting the devil to go to church on Easter, isn't it?
[There's the slightest arch in her back where his hand runs, a completely instinctual response to lean into his touch.]
Any preferences on chicken or beef? [Angela pulls a plastic container from the back of the fridge and grimaces at it.] Or this thing that's growing new life forms?
[There's the slightest arch in her back where his hand runs, a completely instinctual response to lean into his touch.]
Any preferences on chicken or beef? [Angela pulls a plastic container from the back of the fridge and grimaces at it.] Or this thing that's growing new life forms?
Honestly, I kinda think it's part of my natural personality. You gotta admit, it's kinda charmin'.
[His hand slides a little lower, but just a little.]
Can I make the decision about dinner later?
[His hand slides a little lower, but just a little.]
Can I make the decision about dinner later?
Or annoying, depending on who you ask. Or when you ask me.
[She stands up and chucks the container right into the garbage can and turns to Jimmy.]
Later, I'm not cooking.
[She stands up and chucks the container right into the garbage can and turns to Jimmy.]
Later, I'm not cooking.
You seem to put up with me okay.
[Enough so that he's pretty sure he can get away with wrapping his arms around her and pulling her a little closer when she turns to him.]
You don't gotta cook. That's what restaurants are for.
[Enough so that he's pretty sure he can get away with wrapping his arms around her and pulling her a little closer when she turns to him.]
You don't gotta cook. That's what restaurants are for.
It's my good deed of the day.
[And more than just for today. She doesn't wrap her arms around him too, but places a hand on each of his biceps, squeezing slightly.]
And that's exactly why we have aliens in our fridge. We can't eat out all the time.
[And more than just for today. She doesn't wrap her arms around him too, but places a hand on each of his biceps, squeezing slightly.]
And that's exactly why we have aliens in our fridge. We can't eat out all the time.
Who says?
[They totally can. Although it would get expensive after awhile. He leans down, soliciting a kiss.]
[They totally can. Although it would get expensive after awhile. He leans down, soliciting a kiss.]
I say.
[They can, but why should she make it easy for him? Angela's stubborn enough to say no to takeout tonight and no he can't kiss her by playfully ducking her head out of the way.]
Did I give you permission to kiss me?
[They can, but why should she make it easy for him? Angela's stubborn enough to say no to takeout tonight and no he can't kiss her by playfully ducking her head out of the way.]
Did I give you permission to kiss me?
No.
[He'll settle for kissing the top of her head, or her cheek, or whatever he can get.]
Do I gotta ask permission?
[He'll settle for kissing the top of her head, or her cheek, or whatever he can get.]
Do I gotta ask permission?
Yes. New rule in this house, along with no feet on the coffee table and no more delivery.
[Each time he catches her to kiss her, she wriggles the other way, never actually trying to get away.]
[Each time he catches her to kiss her, she wriggles the other way, never actually trying to get away.]
Man, you sure got a lotta rules.
[If she's not trying to get away, he's just going to try to catch her chin one of these times and hold her face for a second as he goes in for a real kiss.]
[If she's not trying to get away, he's just going to try to catch her chin one of these times and hold her face for a second as he goes in for a real kiss.]
[This time, she lets him catch her with his mouth. A soft moan against his lips and she's parting things first.]
And you keep breaking them.
And you keep breaking them.
Yeah, well...
[He can't keep talking without going for another kiss, so he does.]
What's the use of rules if they can't be broken?
[He can't keep talking without going for another kiss, so he does.]
What's the use of rules if they can't be broken?
To keep things nice and tidy?
[How they manage this tit for tat in between kisses is a mystery, but it works and Angela doesn't hesitate sliding her hands up to his shoulders where she drapes her arms. She's the one pulling him closer now.]
I should have known you were bad news.
[How they manage this tit for tat in between kisses is a mystery, but it works and Angela doesn't hesitate sliding her hands up to his shoulders where she drapes her arms. She's the one pulling him closer now.]
I should have known you were bad news.
You did know. You didn't seem to mind.
[If he's going to be pulled closer, he figures it's okay to rest his hands on her lower back, not a teasing touch but a firm one. And then, of course, he has to go for a kiss to her neck, precisely because he's bad news, and it's the kind of thing she enjoys.]
[If he's going to be pulled closer, he figures it's okay to rest his hands on her lower back, not a teasing touch but a firm one. And then, of course, he has to go for a kiss to her neck, precisely because he's bad news, and it's the kind of thing she enjoys.]
[Damn him. He's practically going in for the kill here, but Angela's not ready to concede defeat here. She has her own tricks, like threading her fingers through his hair, making sure the edges of her nails scrape against his scalp.]
I have a right to change my mind, you know.
I have a right to change my mind, you know.
Sure you do. Everyone's got that right.
[He kind of hopes she doesn't, though, not with the way her fingers are running through his hair. So instead, he goes for another kiss, with just a little bit of a nibble added in for good measure.]
[He kind of hopes she doesn't, though, not with the way her fingers are running through his hair. So instead, he goes for another kiss, with just a little bit of a nibble added in for good measure.]
The not being good enough bullshit. What? You got a yardstick you pull out and find you're not the right fit? Bullshit, kid. Keep talking like that, keep thinking like that and you'll stay a ripe sack of shit. Life is full of pain and garbage, yeah. There's some pretty damn good stuff. People are like that too.
[It's been real, real hard to keep his cool. Pardon him for being loud at least he hopes deep, deep down.]
You wanna be garbage or good stuff?
[It's been real, real hard to keep his cool. Pardon him for being loud at least he hopes deep, deep down.]
You wanna be garbage or good stuff?
I wanna be good, but it ain't that easy, is it? I'm a fuckin' murderer, okay? 'n I don't mean in the fuckin' military. I don't mean some bullshit moralistic thing about killin' people 'cause I was a soldier, 'cause I know all that got me was a medal and a fuckin' pat on the back for bein' so good at my "job."
[He's being loud now, too. Not out of anger, just out of frustration.]
So when I say I ain't good enough for someone like Angela? Believe me, I ain't. 'n if you knew half the shit I'd done in my life, you wouldn't even be wastin' your time talkin' to me.
[He's being loud now, too. Not out of anger, just out of frustration.]
So when I say I ain't good enough for someone like Angela? Believe me, I ain't. 'n if you knew half the shit I'd done in my life, you wouldn't even be wastin' your time talkin' to me.
Who the hell do you think you're dealing with? I'd be lucky if all I did was petty theft. I couldn't enlist cuz I already got locked up. I've killed plenty of times. Contract or no. It's not about morals. It's about you and the man you see in the mirror. If you want to feel fucking sorry for yourself, go down hard for that then I dunno what to tell you.
[Jesus. This kid. Just. Breath, Dimmy. Maybe it's a real good thing this is over the phone or else he'd try to shake him until his head sounds like a can with a few marbles in it.
By that logic, White is pretty much dirt. Heh.]
You're a fucking person. You're gonna do low shit. Some people gotta do more than others. If she can't see that then you ever think maybe she ain't good enough herself? What's the point in starting if y'don't think it'd work out?
[Jesus. This kid. Just. Breath, Dimmy. Maybe it's a real good thing this is over the phone or else he'd try to shake him until his head sounds like a can with a few marbles in it.
By that logic, White is pretty much dirt. Heh.]
You're a fucking person. You're gonna do low shit. Some people gotta do more than others. If she can't see that then you ever think maybe she ain't good enough herself? What's the point in starting if y'don't think it'd work out?
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