suitably_heroic | Around Atton's New York, All Day Tuesday

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Around Atton's New York, All Day Tuesday

So, Cade was still here. And... damned lucky that Dane had the patience of a saint (or at least a guy with crappy coping methods and a history of poor boundary-setting), or he probably would've been out on his ass by now. Hell, Jack had thought about throwing him out on his ass a few times now. The crossing the streams was just kind of weird.

And Cade could be kind of a jackass.

(But he'd also missed the guy and having him here was a good reminder of their misspent youth and space he really was getting old, wasn't he?)

Anyway.

It was show day. And Jack-slash-Atton hadn't slept a wink last night, so he'd just be on the floor of the living room, where he'd been for the last couple of hours. Ugh.

[[ for that guy and some ocd ]]

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"Spitting is how a camel shows love," Cade said erroneously.

"Cade," Jack said, as they crossed the street towards a taco joint up ahead, "I can't say I understand your sexual fetishes, nor do I want to hear about them, but I support your right to have them."

"That's very enlightened of you," Cade said with a laugh. "Glad to see that living on a backwater hasn't made you close-minded."

"I'm resisting Earth's weird fixation on sex stuff just fine," Jack promised. "Space, who has the time and energy?"

He pulled open the door to the restaurant.

"Spoken like a man who hasn't sat next to an over-sharing Gamorrean in a few decades," Cade said.

"I'm comfortable with my life choices," Jack said brightly. "After you?"

"That was inflicted on me," Cade said, heading into the restaurant.

"You're the one choosing to go to dive cantinas with chatty Gamorreans," Jack said, with an idle shrug as he followed. "Seems self-inflicted to me."

"Dive cantinas are worth it for the occasionally chatty Gamorreans," Cade decided.

"Then stop complaining," Jack said. "You sound like a five-year-old."

Cade rolled his eyes. "If a five-year-old heard about the sex lives of Gamorreans, he'd get to complain for more than five minutes."

"I've met you, you could complain for an hour," Jack said.

No, that was you.

He pulled up a chair.

"Nope, that's you," Cade said.

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," he said, as he waved over a server, "Now you know what I get up to on this mudball."

"It's definitely not what I'm doing," Cade said with a grin.

Jack snorted. "No," he agreed. "You hear anything about those Hutts?"

"I think no news is good news," Cade decided.

"Or it means they're laying in wait, hoping to catch you sleeping," Jack said merrily. "Cheers!"

"Why'd you think I went to ground here for a while?" Cade asked.

"I know," Jack said. "I'm asking because I'd prefer not to send you back out there with a target still on your back."

Hey, bold-faced honest admission of caring without couching it in any kind of irony. His therapist would be proud.

"Blue said she'd handle it," Cade said blithely.

"And has she?" Jack asked lightly.

"She's a lot prettier than I am," Cade said, "so she says that's helping to appease the Hutts."

That and a lot of credits. Mostly the credits.

"You ever worry about her?" Jack asked, as he reached for his newly-arrived drink. (Soda, again.)

Cade shook his head once. "Blue can take care of herself," he said. "Doesn't mean I want something bad to happen, but she'd stab me in the spleen if she thought I was hovering."

Skywalkers had a type.

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