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From:

cactusy

The kettle is warming when he makes his way back down. Shaw faces it, hands braced against the counter as she looms over the stove.

"We have similar tastes in movies, too," she says. "I think. What was the one you showed in your cabin that time?"

From:

abrightboy

That time…? Oh, that time.

“Robin Hood: Men in Tights?” Malcolm hazards.

From:

cactusy

She snaps her fingers; points to him.

"That's the one. You ever see Clue?"

From:

abrightboy

“I love Clue,” he admits. “Would absolutely watch it again.”

From:

cactusy

"It's one of my favorites. I like comedies."

She half-turns, holding up the box of chamomile tea that she'd pulled from the cupboard. It's soothing, or so she's heard.

"This okay?"

From:

abrightboy

He nods at her tea choice.

“Is that what you watch when you have movie nights with Neal and Eiffel?” he asks.

From:

cactusy

"Sometimes. Neal has pretty different tastes; I think he'd revolt if we made him watch comedy every time."

From:

abrightboy

“Maybe not if they were the witty verbal kind,” Malcolm suggests. “I don’t think I’ve ever watched a movie with Neal. I watched a movie with Will before. The one someone told him about, about Hannibal Lecter. And thankfully they cast someone less attractive than the real one…. and than me. Made it easier to pay attention to everything else without…. sexual intimidation as a factor,” he muses.

From:

cactusy

Oh, god, buddy.

"Hannibal Lecter is the last person you need to be jealous of," she says, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "He's the worst."

From:

abrightboy

"I know what he is," Malcolm says. "But I've also seen him, in one of Will's memories. He's really tall and moves like a dancer." He holds up his hands. "Will told me I don't have anything to worry about." A beat. "Well, not, like, nothing. Nothing in that department. If he ever shows up here or we ever run into him, he'll definitely try to kill me." Based on Malcolm's tone, that clearly does not concern him nearly as much as the man's relative attractiveness.

From:

cactusy

Which is concerning, Malcolm Bright!

"If Lecter ever shows up here, I'm putting you under armed guard," she retorts, which may or may not be a joke.

From:

abrightboy

"If you feel the need to, then rest assured; I'll protect them," Malcolm deadpans.

From:

cactusy

"How about a two-way protection detail," she says dryly. "A task force. Where are your mugs?"

Or maybe, she thinks, he uses teacups. He is fancy.

From:

abrightboy

"In the cupboard above the sink," he tells her, gesturing to the cupboards behind her. "I literally hunt serial killers for a living where I come from. Only one of them has actually managed to stab me. ...And one zapped me with a cattle prod. ....And I got pushed down a concrete staircase once. ......And an elevator shaft. But the point is, not one of them has managed to kill me and it wasn't for a lack of trying."

From:

cactusy

"I know; you've told me."

She stands on her tippy-toes to pull down a mug - just one - and pours it full of tea, then switches off the burner and brings the mug over to him.

"Still, though."

From:

abrightboy

He takes the mug, wrapping his hands around it, then pauses. "...You're not having any?" He glances towards the livingroom, the sideboard beneath a large gothic painting. "There's scotch in the decanter over there."

From:

cactusy

"Yeah?" Oh boy, scotch is way more her style than tea. She makes a beeline, bringing the decanter back into the kitchen and pouring herself half a mug's worth. "Thanks. I could spike it with tea, I guess."

Spike the scotch with tea, not spike the tea with scotch. Naturally.

From:

abrightboy

"It's top shelf; that might be a crime," he teases, almost smiling for a moment, then his expression wavers and he looks down into his tea.

From:

cactusy

Shaw lifts the mug of scotch to her nose, pauses, and then give him a nod, taking it over to the couch sans tea.

"I've had a million comas," she says, as she contemplates her drink. "They're not so bad from the inside. And I've always woken up."

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm slides off his stool and brings his mug over to perch at the far end of the couch.

“When I was getting ready to go to Japan, Will knew I was nervous about leaving without him. He made a bunch of recordings - just mundane stuff: reading snippets of books, reading my affirmation cards… just his own little… silly messages. He put them on my phone. So I wouldn’t feel alone.” He glances up at the ceiling. “I can…” He gestures at his face. “I can smell that he’s here. But he’s also not here. It’s like being in someone’s house when they’re not home.”

From:

cactusy

Shaw frowns in faint confusion - hadn't he been gone for just a day or two? But this is Malcolm she's talking to; she supposes she isn't all that surprised that the idea of a few days away from Will had freaked him out.

"Okay. Can you, uh..." She leans forward, clasping her mug in both hands. "Can you listen to those recordings now...?"

From:

abrightboy

“I’m going to listen to some of them later. And maybe read to him for a bit. He likes that.”

He glances sidelong at her.

“It was almost a week for me,” he says, only guessing what the hesitation might have been. “He couldn’t do the whole tattoo all at once.”

From:

cactusy

"Wait, you got a tattoo?" She scoots forward a little more, peering at him, eyes roaming over exposed skin: his hands, the top of his neck.

From:

abrightboy

He turns his head to look at her properly.

“Yeah. It was a gift from Kiryu. Designed and done by the master that did his. …Do you want to see it? …….Or is it going to be weird if I take off my shirt?”