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[5055034455]

№ 150



❝ This is Saul Goodman. Leave a message. ❞

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[quackery]

[She just assumes they're done with that topic, so she grabs onto the change eagerly.]

yeah sure! what's up

[5055034455]

[Oh, sweet summer duckling.]

Do your bowels function differently when you're in duck form?

[quackery]

[There's no reply, but if he's anywhere in the apartment, he'll hear a loud quack coming from her bedroom. Oops.]

[5055034455]

[Oops indeed.

...WAIT. DOES THIS MEAN THE PENGUIN'S ALREADY IN THE HOUSE??

The chuckling coming from the living room abruptly stops and is replaced by a knock on Ahiru's door.]

Quack once if you're hiding a penguin in there, quack twice if you're not and want me to run you a shower.

[quackery]

[A pause, and then two quacks.

smh]

[5055034455]

[Well, at least there's no penguin to deal with?]

Gotcha. Okay — two seconds.

[Please hold while he retreats to the bathroom.]

[quackery]

[While he's doing that, she's just busy realizing she can't open the door while she waits and gently despairing. Opposable thumbs, please come back.]

[5055034455]

[NEVER FEAR, DUCKLING. Saul's back pronto, opening the door with his attention already turned downward.

He looks very, very apologetic.

(And a tiny, tiny bit amused.)]

Hey. Sorry about that.

[quackery]

[She squints up at him, which was meant to look annoyed but probably just looks ridiculous and kind of cute because duckling.

Regardless, she shuffles past him and towards the bathroom, dragging a pile of clothes along behind her.]

[5055034455]

[It looks adorable.

Saul just watches her go, then pulls the door closed once she's inside. As an apology, he'll get some cocoa ready for when she's finished.]

[quackery]

[She has a hard time convincing herself to leave the warmth once it starts, but around half an hour later she walks out in the clothes she'd been wearing before, rubbing at her hair with a towel.]

You still here? [She calls out as she moves into the hallway.]

[5055034455]

[He wasn't expecting her to take so long, but he also wasn't expecting Steph's cocoa-making method to be so difficult.

Leave it to him to burn chocolate.]

Yeah! In the kitchen.

[quackery]

[She walks in, then, giving a sigh.]

Can we agree not to talk about that ever again?

[5055034455]

Talk about what?

[He grins wryly, though it's a bit strained.

Please understand where he's going with this, duckling.]

[quackery]

[A smile, grateful.]

So what're you making?

[5055034455]

Cocoa. Or — trying to make it, anyway.

[With a slightly rueful glance toward the trash can:] I'm not as good at it as Steph is, apparently.