Collins has dragged a chair outside, on Angel's fire escape landing, and is comfortably seated, legs propped on the railing, peering over the New York Times crosswords. Instead of trying to solve the puzzle thanks to the definitions, though, he's filling in the squares with random words he likes and, when the puzzle demands it, invents. In his left hand he's holding his cup of coffee and, stuck between two fingers, his morning joint.
Angel sticks her head out of the window in his back, and plants a kiss on his cheek. "We should dress up for New Year's Eve."
Her head disappears back inside and Collins frowns vaguely, takes a drag off the joint, a sip from the coffee, and fills in VENT vertically, using VENEER's V and NEUROTIC's N. It gives him the opportunity to scribble out TREASURE with the new word's T, and he leaves the crosswords unfinished as he comes to the end of his joint.
He shrugs out of the big leather coat Angel bought her a couple days ago and hangs it up with a fond smile. Angel's busy at her sewing machine, working on some shimmering blue cloth, and Collins leans against a wall to watch her as he finishes his coffee. She glances up at him with a smile, and he idly notices that her nails are blue and white this morning.
He heads for the sink, to give the empty cup a quick wash, and asks over his shoulder. "So. New Year's Eve costumes?"
"Yes," is her only answer, and he can hear the smile in her voice.
"Any ideas?"
"Yes," and the smile is even more evident this time.
"Are you going to share?"
She makes a small thoughtful noise, as if considering her answer, and he heads back to her. She leaves her work and stands up, holding him at arm's length and assessing his build, smoothing a hand over his wrinkled shirt, chest and shoulders. "Yes... yes. I think you could pull off a wonderful James Bond."
He chuckles. "James Bond, huh? Yeah, I have a bit of the 007 in me. Who will that make you?"
She smiles, and he sneaks his arms around her waist at that, because it's very simply an irresistible smile, and it really deserves - more than - the kiss he presses to the soft skin right under her ear. "You'll see, Mr. Bond. And you'll love it."
He grins against her skin. "That a promise, Angel?"
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Angel sticks her head out of the window in his back, and plants a kiss on his cheek. "We should dress up for New Year's Eve."
Her head disappears back inside and Collins frowns vaguely, takes a drag off the joint, a sip from the coffee, and fills in VENT vertically, using VENEER's V and NEUROTIC's N. It gives him the opportunity to scribble out TREASURE with the new word's T, and he leaves the crosswords unfinished as he comes to the end of his joint.
He shrugs out of the big leather coat Angel bought her a couple days ago and hangs it up with a fond smile. Angel's busy at her sewing machine, working on some shimmering blue cloth, and Collins leans against a wall to watch her as he finishes his coffee. She glances up at him with a smile, and he idly notices that her nails are blue and white this morning.
He heads for the sink, to give the empty cup a quick wash, and asks over his shoulder. "So. New Year's Eve costumes?"
"Yes," is her only answer, and he can hear the smile in her voice.
"Any ideas?"
"Yes," and the smile is even more evident this time.
"Are you going to share?"
She makes a small thoughtful noise, as if considering her answer, and he heads back to her. She leaves her work and stands up, holding him at arm's length and assessing his build, smoothing a hand over his wrinkled shirt, chest and shoulders. "Yes... yes. I think you could pull off a wonderful James Bond."
He chuckles. "James Bond, huh? Yeah, I have a bit of the 007 in me. Who will that make you?"
She smiles, and he sneaks his arms around her waist at that, because it's very simply an irresistible smile, and it really deserves - more than - the kiss he presses to the soft skin right under her ear. "You'll see, Mr. Bond. And you'll love it."
He grins against her skin. "That a promise, Angel?"
"It's a fact."