[ A lone grunt. Len was doing it again. The cheeky bastard just didn't know when to quit while he's ahead. Which happens more times than Mick would ever like to admit because he is many things and prideful is among one of those things. Much like his constant urge to put the hurt on just about any one, Snart included. If it meant he got what ever he wanted and if there was a point he was trying to make, Mick wasn't the type to hesitate with a kill. Even if it was his only real friend. Others, they weren't trustworthy. Only thinking of themselves like the thieves they are but he's known Leonard since they were kids. So he deserved his blind trust. And if he's being completely honest with himself, he'd say the other cares for him more than he ever would some type of stranger. Mick knows he should know why that ring Lenny wears looks so damn familiar to him but for the life of him, he can't pinpoint the origin of the thing. Not his problem right now. ]

Something. Like what?

[ His hand was firm and steady, unwaivering. Calloused fingers gripped tightly against his gun as he stood at the ready when and if his partner decided to attack him point blank like he was planning things were to go down. Didn't happen though. Slowly, with a couple few reservations of his own, he watched Snart's every ministration. Following him with his eyes, he allowed the other to lower his gun for him, always letting Leonard make the abrupt decision for him. Mick's eyes light up, imploring the guy to tell him because he was desperate to do anything at this point. ]

Name it.