A catcall like whistle pierces the room as Face, sitting in the kitchen drinking a beer that he just happened to get from Ton's fridge. "Show me some legs, sexy," he teased.
Wes just peered over the door of the fridge, where he had been looking for something to munch on while they waited for their 'host'.
Ton's not surprised, really. He still jumps slightly, though, and heads over to the kitchen. He throws his towel at Face. "You couldn't pay me enough credits, Loran, for that type of show."
He looks between the two and chuckles. "And please. Make yourselves at home. To what do I owe this delightful intrusion?"
Face chuckled and tossed the towel to the side, then ran his fingers through his hair. "You sure about that. I'm sure I have enough credits somewhere taht I can entice you with. Anyway, to answer your question, it's a nice day. And with it being a nice day, we figured we would come and taunt you."
Wes looked innocent as he closed the refridgerator door. "Actually, Face came over to taunt you. I just wanted to see how the other half lived."
"I wouldn't know much about the other half. And Face can taunt all he wants. He still won't have enough creds to pay for me."
He winks at Face, then hops up onto a counter. "If you're hungry I can order take-out, or something. There's this amazing Indian place that delivers."
"You're paying too, i'm assuming, since I'm just a lowly bartender and Wes, well, he's unemployed... and you're the big time actor." Oh yeah, Face was enjoying this.
"I have a job. I'm a diplomat. They actually pay me for what they tell me to do."
"I have yet to actually see you do any type of work, Wes." Face stated.
Ton grins at the banter between Wes and Face as he heads off to find the cordless phone. He returns with it mashed against his ear, and hops back up onto the counter.
He's a few minutes ordering and then, "Oh, Wes has been working. He's infiltrated the couples' scene and is researching the planet's mating rituals."
Doesn't mention that Face doesn't spend enough time around him to know whether he's working or not. "And you have no idea how important that can be! I mean knowing the mating rituals of a race ranks right up there with weapons locations and leadership capabilities. Imagine if you will, trying to make friends with a planet or a nation, and accidentilly hitting on someone without meaning too. It could cause an intergalactic war!"
He nods to himself as though this is the most logical line of thinking in the world.
"Of course, which is why Adumar was so successful in the beginning." Face nodded.
Ton's interest is piqued. Sensing a tale worthy of telling, he looks far too cheerful as he says, "What happened on Adumar?"
Wes snorts. "You mean he hasn't shown you the holo's he's collected yet?"
"Nope. Not yet." Because, obviously there are holos. With Face, there's always holos.
Wes turns to Face and lifts an eyebrow. "You appear to be slacking."
"No, it's more fun watching you try to explain yourself," Face nodded.
"Then i can prove you wrong and show your bare ass to the world. Oh sorry, wrong holos."
Ton's would be practically bouncing, but the thought of Face with holos of Wes' bare ass is...weird.
Sweetly, "Face, why do you have holos of Wes' bare ass?"
There's a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "Because I won't let him see the real thing, no matter how much he begs me."
"I've seen the real thing. Trust me, Wes, it's not all that hot."
Face looked at Ton. "Wedge pulled the ultimate prank on Wes."
He's bouncy now. "Oooooh. This I have to hear...right after I get the door..."
And yes. Food has arrived. Yummy Indian food, of which the Mun is not familiar with the names. But yummy. Yummy is good.
Ton grabs plates and utensils and spreads them and the containers on a counter.
Wes rolls his eyes, but figures the rest of the universe knows now anyway, so what's one more.
Face smirked and reaches into his pocket for his datapad. "Here, I have them all downloaded here."
And then, he got up and went to get something to eat while Ton watched the whole Janson incident.
Lip twitch.
Lip twitch.
Grin.
Smirk.
Giggle.
Chuckle. Lots.
Delicate cough; gently places datapad on the counter, then clamly, very sweetly, "Nice ass, Janson. You should be a model for Guess."
"Actually, I think that would be up Face's alley than mine, but thanks anyway."
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