Midnight Manor Private Residence, Sunday Evening

[pocketpretzels]

Steven and Marc's birthday was tomorrow, which meant that today, Watts had spent the afternoon in the kitchen making a pie.

That pie now sat on the kitchen island, along with two plates, forks, and a serving knife. And of course, a recently-opened bottle of bourbon and two glasses. Watts sat in one of the chairs, checking on his mobile telephone to make sure all of his plans for Steven tomorrow were in place.

Tonight, though? Tonight wasn't for Steven.

[ooc: for the one who lives here who isn't Steven, and NFB.]

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

Marc for his part had also been on his phone. Though in his case it was calls with Crawley to catch up on things, and Layla in what was probably a coincidence of timing. But on the other hand he'd called her near her birthday but not on, so who knew.

Nobody had mentioned the date though, which was the important thing. Steven would likely get texts and all that tomorrow. It'd be fine.

When Marc was done he headed into the kitchen. At this point it was tradition enough that Marc knew the time to head in there. It was funny in a way. The intent was clear but somehow it worked. It was enough not the thing that Marc could handle it.

Score points for Watts. And everyone else who'd figured out how to make gestures without making a big deal about it.

"Hey," Marc said as he entered the room.

[pocketpretzels]

"Evening," Watts replied with a nod, tucking his own telephone back into his pants pocket. He'd deliberately not asked or reminded Marc about anything, trusting in the routine of their own little tradition to bring him by. And that trust had clearly not been misplaced.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc took a seat on the opposite side of the island from Watts. "Looks good."

[pocketpretzels]

"Thanks," Watts said, gesturing for him to go ahead and cut himself a slice. "Chocolate pecan," he added helpfully. "Sounded interesting, so I thought I would give it a go."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc cut himself a piece, then held the knife up to the pie, silently asking where Watts would like his slice to be cut.

[pocketpretzels]

"Please," Watts nodded. Meanwhile, he was going to reach for the bottle and pour them each a glass of the bourbon.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc cut where Watts indicated, put it on a plate, and passed it over. He wasn't going to fuss over Watts's servings like Steven did, but he would make sure the guy was taken care of.

"Crawley and Layla are doing okay," he said. Because talking about himself or the dates was not a thing happening soon for sure.

[pocketpretzels]

"That's good," Watts nodded, pulling the plate closer. "And- the young Frenchman of Crawley's acquaintance? No more trouble there?"

[hasaknightjob]

"Doing good," Marc said. "They've got somebody keeping an eye on him and his brother now. Not far from the office. We should check her out next time we're in town."

The "we" here being him and Watts.

[pocketpretzels]

Watts nodded. "About due for a visit, aren't we?" Yes, he and Steven went most Saturday mornings, but that was different, Marc staying uninvolved with those trips for obvious reasons.

[hasaknightjob]

"Can't hurt to check in," Marc said. He took a forkful of pie, gesturing with it. "I trust Crawley's judgement. But never hurts to keep your own eye on things."

Not that Marc cared about people or anything.

[pocketpretzels]

"My sentiments exactly," Watts said, around his own mouthful of pie.

[hasaknightjob]

"She runs a cafe," Marc added, before taking his own bite. He figured the concept of an outing with an obvious food connection kinda spoke for itself where Watts was concerned.

[pocketpretzels]

"Ah," Watts grinned, because Marc's instincts hit the nail on the head with that one. "Yes, in that case. 'Checking her out' is a must."

[hasaknightjob]

"Maybe next time we're in London," Marc said.

There wasn't a big emphasis on the "we" but the implication was the next time it was him and Watts. Which could mean Marc coming in when Watts and Steven were there on one of their usual trips.

[pocketpretzels]

"Sounds like a plan," Watts agreed, taking a sip of the bourbon. "Ah," he added after. "That's nice."

[hasaknightjob]

"Nicer'n I deserve," Marc said as he took a swallow of his own. But there was no bite in it. "Could buy much cheaper shit if you wanted."

Marc knew very well Watts didn't want. For a multitude of reasons.

[pocketpretzels]

"I could," Watts acknowledged, scratching at his chin with his fork.

He could, and he wouldn't.

[hasaknightjob]

"Layla's good too," Marc added. Because that was also not talking about himself. "All her shit going well."

[pocketpretzels]

"'All her shit'?" Watts echoed, drily amused.

[hasaknightjob]

"Avatar shit," Marc said. Because no, he was not over being amused at how "temporary" this was for her. "Not that it's fun but it's going all right."

Marc took another bite of pie. "Keeps hearing about somebody acting like me though."

[pocketpretzels]

"Mmm," Watts let out a concerned grumble. "I don't like that."

[hasaknightjob]

"It's not me," Marc said. Because that was by no means something any of them could accept as a given. "All the times she's heard something we knew where I was. Or Steven. Eyes on us and everything."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts nodded. "Still, the idea that someone out there is- pretending to be you. Makes me uncomfortable."

[hasaknightjob]

"Not someone's smartest idea," Marc agreed. He took another sip of bourbon. "I think they're trying to fuck with her. They know she's got a history with Moon Knight so they're using it to get in her head."

Layla would point out that it took a lot more than mentioning an ex to get into her head but Marc tended not to listen to such things.

[pocketpretzels]

"I cannot see that ending well," Watts said over another bite of pie.

[hasaknightjob]

"She can handle herself," Marc said, by way of agreeing with Watts. And also showing a little growth as a person.

Not too much though because then he added, "Or I'll take care of it."

Odds were high if it kept happening he'd take care of it whether or not Layla wanted him to.

[pocketpretzels]

"Mmmm," Watts said noncommittally, as he couldn't see that going well either.

[hasaknightjob]

"Hey, if it's my name, I get a say," Marc said.

Okay 'Moon Knight' was more of a title that was bestowed than anything he'd picked for himself. But still.

[pocketpretzels]

Okay, Watts grudgingly had to concede he had something of a point there. "Perhaps the two of you could work in tandem."

A beat.

"You and Ms. El-Faouly," he added, though that likely did not need clarifying. "Not- you and the impostor."

[hasaknightjob]

"I'm not working with some asshole pretending to be me," Marc said.

Which Watts had also said but Marc felt like it needed repeating.

"If he even exists," Marc added, since that was still his ongoing theory. "Not some jagoff spreading rumors about something that isn't happening."

[pocketpretzels]

"... Jagoff?" Watts said, distracted from the actual conversational thread by the unfamiliar term.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc made a jerking off gesture with his hand since that seemed the fastest way to define it.

Above the table. He was efficient, not crude.

[pocketpretzels]

Except now Watts was even more concerned. "He's pretending to be you while- ah. In public?"

[hasaknightjob]

"What? No!" Marc said, once he realized what Watts meant. "It's an expression. What do you got that means someone's - I dunno. Not worth it. Waste of time."

[pocketpretzels]

"Er- A deadbeat, I suppose?" Watts said, after taking a moment to think about it.

[hasaknightjob]

"These days that means they don't pay their bills," Marc said. "They owe you something and never get around to it."