Thrift Shop Threads

[notjustaface]

The jobs were sort of an accident, probably one Hannibal intended all along given it made life on the run all the more difficult. It certainly wasn't Face's first choice of ways to scratch together a little bit of cash.

And it was a little. A very depressing little.

Little enough that a cover ID requiring a decent suit under rack price - far under rack price.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," he shakes his head - staring at the thrift store's hand-lettered sign. "Clothes come here to die."

Comments

[notthatcrazy]

"You wanna name it, you gotta help me pick it out."

[notjustaface]

Gingerly folding the jacket and pants over his arm, he steps back out from behind the curtain with a soft smirk.

"Shirt first, white - buttons... show me the way, oh thrift master."

[notthatcrazy]

He leads the way to the dress shirt section with ease. Fortunately plain white isn't hard to come by.

"Anything in particular you're lookin' for?"

[notjustaface]

"If it looks good, I'm in..." He mutters, browsing over the selection until a standard cut in his size turns up - plucking the hanger off the rack.

"Like this." It's not so bad, clearing objectives.

[notthatcrazy]

"Not bad. You need to try it on?"

[notjustaface]

"I think I'm good." He holds up the shirt, comparing the sleeve against his arm; "I'm a pretty standard size."

His eyes sweep over to the next rack over - jeans and shorts; "You need any gear?"

[notthatcrazy]

And in an instant he morphs from amateur fashion critic to petulant five-year-old.

"Yeah... probably should."

He hates trying on clothes.

[notjustaface]

Face can handle petulant children... at least Murdock shaped ones.

"Come on, we've got a van now... may as well put some of that storage space to use when we're between crash pads."

He braces one hand against the small of Murdock's back for a brief moment, guiding him before slipping back to a more neutral public stance.

"I'm gonna go look at ties."

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

He idly thumbs through the racks looking for his size, pausing at one particularly rhinestone-encrusted pair.

"Who wears this stuff..."

He may be eccentric, but he's not eccentric enough for back pocket bedazzling.

[notjustaface]

Might look cute on him, little bit of shiny flair on an ass pocket.

Face is doing even worse, flipping through multi-colored monstrosities for the one least likely to give people seizures and maybe make him look a little more like the average white collar suit type.

"Navy and orange? Really? Do people actually think that's okay?"

[notthatcrazy]

What is it with them wanting excuses to look at each other's butts?

"Yeah, even I know that's not okay," he calls over.

He picks out a few of the least 80s-throwback-acidwashed pairs. "Gonna go look at t-shirts now."

[notjustaface]

"I'm taking advice from a guy that just willingly picked up acid-wash." He mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes at a tie that plays the Twelve Days of Christmas.

Selecting a basic black tie from the Mormon collection, he heads back toward the fitting rooms to check on Murdock - and maybe get a second shot at a little forbidden touching - when he saw the pink... thing... shoved between a stack of VHS workout tapes and Disco's Greatest Hits on LP.

Now that is a Wiggles if there ever was one.

"Ooooh, Murdock..." he grins, snatching it off the shelf and taking the last few quick steps toward the curtain before popping his head in the one Murdock had disappeared behind. "Nice shorts."

[notthatcrazy]

"Do you have any shame whatsoever?"

He doesn't exactly sound all that annoyed.

"Whatcha got?"

[notjustaface]

"Shame is guys that wear swimsuits in the showers." His grin spreads slightly and lifts the pink plush up so it's weasel/ottery head pokes under his chin through the curtain.

"Wiggles just wanted a little peek before the promised main event."

[notthatcrazy]

"Face, what have I told you about corrupting the stuffed animals?"

He looks Wiggles in her freakishly large blue plastic eyes before reaching out to pat her plush little head.

"Hello there."

[notjustaface]

"I think that she is a very, very special exception." He squeezes it and a soft squeak heralds his way into the dressing room, closing the curtain tight behind him.

"I was just minding my own business when she poked right out at me and demanded to meet someone very special."

He flashes a warm smile; "And you're about as special as they come, baby."

[notthatcrazy]

He can't really argue with that. Nor does he really want to.

"You are a terrible influence and I love you for it."

[notjustaface]

"You better," he leans in closer, giving it another squeak.

"I'm a Ranger with a pink cuddly... otter thing."

He doesn't mind being a bad influence, someone has to do it.

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah... I have no idea what that is."

It appears to be holding a seashell, so some kind of aquatic mammal is probably a safe guess.

"She's cute. Thank you." He leans over to give him a soft peck on the cheek. "Whaddya say we pay for this stuff and go home?"

[notjustaface]

The gentle brush against his cheek is enough to draw a smile - and he can only assume indulging his inner child earned him a ticket out of the store without a copy of Beaches and a few stacks of comics.

"I think that's a great idea." Whatever home is, lately it's been a matter of where they can scam a bed or a decent floor for a few days or a few hours.

[notthatcrazy]

Home, to him, is wherever Face is. Obviously.

And if it's somewhere they can be alone together... all the better.

"Lead the way, Wiggles."

[notjustaface]

Snorting back a laugh, he eyebrows the small stack of jeans and lets the pink thing lead the way to the register where after lightening the wallet they're the proud owners of some new threads...

And an Ottery goddess of pink who's picked Murdock's lap as a place to snuggle down in the passenger seat of the van.

"I'm thinking we could use a detour to relax a bit."

[notthatcrazy]

She's a very nice little... bug-eyed otter thing.

"What'd ya have in mind?"

[notjustaface]

Now that... is a loaded question if there ever was one. It's been a while since they've been on better terms again - and then getting time alone that isn't delegated to any number of other things they have to get done took up most of it.

"There's about ten miles of woods between here and the shack - I'm sure we could find a place to roll around in the grass."

[notthatcrazy]

He laughs, playing with the otter's two-toned pink tail.

"Never figured you for the outdoorsy type."

They've spent plenty of time in the wilderness on missions, of course, but he'd never expected him to wanna do it by choice.

"Might be fun though."