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[5055034455]

№ 150



❝ This is Saul Goodman. Leave a message. ❞

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[5055034455]

What's the matter, Sonya?

[legal_eagle]

What do you mean, "what's the matter"? Nothing's the matter.

[5055034455]

Something's the matter. Don't bullshit a bullshitter.

[legal_eagle]

Fine. I don't fucking whine. And considering how you ride my ass about being more honest, you calling me a whiney baby when I'm just being frank is a pretty shitty thing.

OH IRONYYYYYY

[5055034455]

You're sending me conflicting messages and it's putting me in a position where I don't know what I'm supposed to do to help you. And I want to help you. Like I said, you've been around for me when I needed you — I'd love to return the favor.

And if the reply to that is "you can help me by not helping me," don't even bother typing it.

[legal_eagle]

I don't need help. Look, Goodman, I figured out how to be a prosecutor without anyone supporting me or helping me, with people just gleefully throwing roadblocks in my way. I think I can figure out how to do defense, too.

[5055034455]

OK, great. That's awesome. You're a brilliant, strong woman who don't need no man — or anyone else for that matter, yes, I get it. Mad props to you.

But there's got to be something I can do for you.

Where are you right now?

[legal_eagle]

Cafeteria. Why?

a-a-action

[5055034455]

[Because he's coming over, that's why.

She probably knows the sound of his footsteps well enough by now, but he still pokes her shoulder when he walks up behind her, a silent little guess who.]

:D

[legal_eagle]

[She turns and shoots him a rather irritable glance. A fine reward for making the journey.]

Who invited you?

[5055034455]

[Her glance is met with a completely feigned pout.]

And here I was gonna make you pancakes...

[legal_eagle]

Like you can cook.

[5055034455]

Um, excuse you. I used to cook breakfast for my roommates almost every morning back on Earth. I'd tell you to ask them, but...

[They both went home.

Saul makes a face.]

You want 'em or not?

[legal_eagle]

[She looks up at him, narrowing her eyes in confusion.]

Wait, are you really offering?

[5055034455]

I'm really offering, but that offer's gonna expire if you don't give me a "yes" or "no" within the next ten seconds.

[It's not difficult, Sonya!

PANCAKES!]

[legal_eagle]

[But a "yes" or "no" isn't quite forthcoming yet:]

Why?

[5055034455]

Because everything's fucked up and I feel like making pancakes.

[legal_eagle]

[A pause, then she looks down at the table. But her face isn't quite so sour.]

If you want to make pancakes, make them. Don't do it on my account.

[5055034455]

[Yeah, that's going mostly ignored.]

You like anything special in 'em?

[Not that he knows what's in stock in the kitchen, but...]

[legal_eagle]

[She doesn't respond a moment, but then finally says:]

Just don't make me any bacon.

[5055034455]

[He grins wryly.]

Who said anything about bacon? Gimme about ten minutes. Sit tight.

[And off he goes, disappearing into the kitchen.]

[legal_eagle]

[Naturally she does no such thing. At once she gets up and follows him into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway and watching him, making no comment. Just...staring.]

[5055034455]

[Of course. Saul doesn't protest, at least; he never minds her company, even if he's a little unnerved by the staring.

Maybe she's just checking to make sure he won't poison her, or something.

It's a morbid thought, so he doesn't voice it. Instead, he folds his jacket and sets it off to the side, then rolls his sleeves up and gets to work. It's not tough for him to find the ingredients; no one's moved them since he last made stress pancakes, though there's a bit less of everything. He makes a mental note to figure out what's up with the missions later.

Here's hoping Sonya enjoys silent cooking shows.]

[legal_eagle]

[She's quiet a full minute, two, before, abruptly, she speaks.]

So do you have to adjust for the difference in the atmospheric pressure?

[5055034455]

[He glances slowly over at her, one eyebrow arched.]

Huh. That explains the disaster that was my first attempt. Yeah, I guess — cooking time's different, but I haven't really changed the measurements around.

[Not that he measures anything, as she's about to see.]