bakerstreet | happily taken;

[not quite there yet, more like makes sure his gun is handy and anything electronic is locked down tight

And her comments earns her a laugh and bright grin. Oh Parker.]

Oh God. Two of them with bad taste in women. And yeah? My shirts are fine. [he shrugs and digs through his bag for a looser shirt, getting ready to make a circuit around the exterior and the neighborhood] Want to make a perimeter sweep with me?

Okee-dokee.

[She was, however, going to give his arm a poke.]

You're more firm than Eliot. Like some kind of man-meat sausage. Ever worry about exploding if you flex too much?

[his eyes widen in surprise. Then he shakes his head before pulling on the second shirt, making sure his tats were covered. The looser fabric made him not nearly as dorito shaped, so he would blend in better.]

Not really? I'm not in the bulking phase right now, mostly maintaining. I run more than I lift nowadays. So no exploding. [well other parts might but that's only if she asks.]

[That's why she was craving chips now. It all made sense.

Still, she watched him cover up those interesting markings (which she would be asking about later), then looked down at her own getup. Pastel. She forever hated pastel.]

Running's good for you. Cardio and all that jazz. But if you want a real workout, I'd suggest vent aerobics. Find yourself a nice highrise and work the ventilation system of one floor, then climb up the elevator shafts to another one. It's even more fun if there's a security system to avoid. Bonus points.

You should wear different colors by the way. The pastel is not a good look. [he noticed that grimace as she looked at her clothes. Twice now.]

And do you think I can fit in a ventilation shaft? I'm um. Not exactly the same body type as you.

Edited 2016-09-28 10:28 (UTC)

No? This isn't a Susie Piemaker neighborhood? Oh, thank Jiminy.

[Hope you're not against nudity (or partial nudity), Jensen. Because she was going over to her bag and rifling through it to pick out a blue shirt -- then pulling off the one she was wearing and dropping it before grabbing the new and approved one to put on.]

You're big, but I don't know if you're that big. Besides, that's what makes it a challenge. You work up a heck of a sweat in a small, confined place. Not to mention that most maintenance workers are about your size, though usually more in the midsection area than that whole beefcake thing you have going on, so they have to make them accessible for them. Gives me loads of room.

I didn't think I looked like the kind of guy to have a pastel wearing wife. [then she started stripped and Jensen spun around, back to Parker while she changed.]

Woah, hey, warn a guy if he needs to not look, okay? [he was also a little blushy]

Yeah they definitely look like they outweigh me, and I am not light. You'll have to show me the ropes sometime, because I may need a quick exit. Can I turn around now and not get an accidental show?

Why? Not like you haven't seen boobs before.

[Wait...]

You have seen boobs before, right? Because otherwise, that's just weird. Or maybe I just have weird boobs?

[Well, great, now she was looking down at her now-covered breasts, poking at one.]

You're good. Or, I'm good. And if you want ropes, you came to the right girl.

Yes, I've seen boobs and yours are just fine. Pretty, too. I was trying to be polite in case you didn't want me watching. Um. Was the beefcake comment a general observation or a compliment? [he takes a peek over his shoulder, then turns back, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.]

If I didn't want you watching, I would have gone somewhere you couldn't. Or maced you in the eyes.

[This was Parker logic. Learn it, love it.]

What, it can't be both? Come on, slowpoke beefcake. We have a perimeter sweep to do.

[He's picking up her quirks quite quickly. He sighs, and checks his holster. Left his gun in the van once, never going to hear the end of it. Grabbing a hoodie vest, he followed Parker out the door, eyes sweeping their surroundings.]

Yes, dear. And I am only slow when it counts. [Jensen, pls.]

When does being slow count?

[Nope. Guess who didn't get subtext. In like... anything.]

There's a pizza place a couple blocks away. We can sweep the opposite area and head there as a return way. Gives us a decent cover. And I like cheese.

Um. When I have a woman in bed. I don't do speed records with sex.

[Ah, yes. Need to not have subtext, she won't catch it. Also he is hella pink cheeked right now. Then he seizes on the suggestion. Anything to not explode in babble from the nerves.]

Sounds like a plan. So you like cheese? Anything else?

Got it. No Speedy Gonzales in la cama.

[Which then brought to mind a very pertinent question.]

Are there speed records for sex? Are there different categories? Good speedy sex versus really not good speedy sex? How do they judge that?

[She went to the door, opening it and stepping out, waiting for him.]

Money. I like lots, and lots of money. But if we're talking pizza, I'm also a Hawaiian fan. Pineapple on pizza -- should be weird, but is secretly delicious.

[ He's out the door, automatically scoping their surroundings. He wasn't Cougar but he would manage.

And he huffs, trying to figure out the wording]

I hope not because that's super subjective. But as long as she's happy, I'm happy.

[he grins]

Aww, man, I have never had to share my Hawaiian pizza before. Going have to get two because I am hungry and I don't want to get shanked by a fork. You look like the fork stabbing type.

Isn't happiness super subjective?

[As they started walking, she moved closer, sliding her hand down to hold his. They were supposed to be married, right? Married people held hands.]

It was only the one time, and trust me, he had it coming. If you're not some Serbian smuggler and child trafficker trying to cop a feel, I think we're good.

Well. Yeah, it is. Satisfied would be the better word. [he squeezes her hand as it slips into his, and he gives her a soft smile. Married people do that, too.]

Ah. I hope he was taken care of because I would have to rearrange his face for being a sleazeball. [oh hi protective instincts. Settle down, she took care of it. And the dude.]

And now I see why Eliot okayed this. You're a good bad guy. Like us.

[Well, maybe not exactly like them. More like Eliot, what with the tactics and 'distinctive haircut', but also a bit of Hardison thrown in with Jensen's particular skill set. And hey, if he liked rappelling down buildings, they might be on to something.]

Okay, so, Hawaiian pizzas are a go, but the real test is: what's your favorite cereal?

Well, by that you mean someone with ethics who can still kill a person and know how to get rid of the body?

[he half smiled]

Cocoa Krispies. I don't let myself have them often. Can't be a beefcake while eating sugary cereal all the time.

Ooh, how many bodies have you had to get rid of?

[Said a little lower than she might normally have asked it, leaning in a little closer as a couple moved to pass them going the opposite direction. Nothing to see here, folks. Just two married people out walking.]

Hah! That was a trick question! All cereals are the best cereals. But, I mean, I guess if you want to be some kind of cereal prejudiced type...

[Looking over at him, she gave his shoulder another prod.]

I dunno. I'm pretty limber and in decent shape and all I eat is junk food. I'm deceptively strong. I like to think sugar makes that happen.

[He slings an arm over Parker as she moves closer, a small chuckle at her question.]

Classified. And sweetheart, you're going to need more stamina than just sugar. Though I really want to know what you're like after a sugar binge.

There was this one Chocolate Festival that I'll never forget...

[She sounded almost wistful about that, remembering that all-day sugar binge... and the resulting day afterward of annoying the hell out of her team.]

[he looks alarmed, then shook his head.] So if I needed a distraction, I should feed you chocolate and set you loose, hmm? [he's teasing while still scoping out the neighborhood. And look at that dog. Never saw a blue poodle before.]

I wouldn't recommend it for having to prepare for a job. I get too jittery and you need steady hands for a lot of... Hey there, sugar buns! Nice buns!

[She reached over and gave Jake's ass a slap as the owner of said blue poodle walked by, changing the subject for a moment and slipping into that role they were playing, laughing up at him before cutting it off almost scarily quickly when they were far enough away.]

--security work. Nothing botches a plan like an unsteady laser.

[the noise that came from Jensen's throat was not the most dignified noise he's ever made when she slapped his ass, but he managed to keep it together until after they cleared the blue poodle. Fucking hell.]

Well, I meant in a situation where the jitter would be a good thing. And mmm. Lasers. I like lasers. Also. Sugar buns? Are you telling me you're feeling a bit peckish? Because if so, the pizza joint's just up the block a bit.

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