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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG
Pairing: Implied Sands/El, implied Smecker/Greenly.
Feedback: Spelling errors to constructive crit., whatever.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: For hermine for the amazing graphics.
Summary: A chat between two compadres.
***
As he spoke, Sands twirled the little umbrella toothpick between his two fingers, tilting his head almost pensively. “Smecker, I’m a little rusty on American law enforcement, but I’m pretty sure the FBI’s jurisdiction ends at the border.”
“It does. I’m taking a vacation.” Paul downed the last of his margarita, winced at the sweetness, and then ordered a decent upstanding whisky. “So are you, I see.”
“More like a permanent relocation. Mexico’s nice. Cheaper to bribe, forgiving of messes…not bad in bed, either,” Sands drawled. The guitarist sitting beside him just barely twitched. “How’s shit on your end?”
Before he answered, Paul did an aural check on Greenly—still banging around the pool tables. God knew where the twins were, but then, Paul wasn’t no damn babysitter. “Let’s just say I’ve got reasons for staying in the States.”
***