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[nogoldfish]

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[hardballsy]

[What in this underworld could Mycroft Holmes want more, at this exact moment, than Joshua Lyman showing up at his doorstep with a big ol' dipshit grin and an extended arm, as if he were about to take a princess out?

Nothing.

There's nothing he could want more, don't lie.

Except maybe all that, plus singsong:] Mister Hoooo-ooolmes!

Yassss

[nogoldfish]

[ Oh dear god and Jesus Christ, why?

Can a man not get some peace even in his poor excuse of a home in the Hive? Should have stayed at the office. Why did he go home? Damn it all.

He looks up from his book (one that isn't porn and actually isn't too bad), and scowls. ]

What?

[ With an unspoken but very clear: Get it over with quickly and leave. ]

[hardballsy]

[When does Mycroft not have peace? What is he doing in the long moments between Josh bothering him? Is he really a party boy and just putting up a front?

Hm???]

We're going out. C'mon.

[nogoldfish]

...

Why in the world would I do that?

[ Genuinely ... perplexed. Where did this compulsion even come from? Since when does anyone want to bring him out? ]

[hardballsy]

Because you're bored.

[Maybe not, but also: Just look at him.

Sitting in his room. In the Hive. Reading.

Who does that?]

And you're too smart to pass up the opportunity of someone so handsome and charismatic treating you to a night on the town.

[nogoldfish]

[ The flattest

stare

ever ]

No, I'm smart enough to pass up on that.

[hardballsy]

Right, yeah. You're a genius, I forgot. Shut up. Let's go.

[TICK TOCK MOTHERFUCKER.]

[nogoldfish]

Why exactly should I do that?

[ Just leave him alone. A night on the town just sounds loud and messy and full of drunken people and too much annoyance.

How in the world has Josh even convinced himself that might be a good idea? Since when has Mycroft been anyone to hang with? It makes no sense. ]

[hardballsy]

[Josh is capable of convincing himself of a great many things, all of which are equally ridiculous.

He sighs and rubs his nose.]

Mycroft. Pull the trident or whatever it is out of your ass and get up. I used to argue for a living — in fact, that's what I still do, despite being dead, and I am tremendously good at winning and getting what I want. So spare us both the energy and let's go.

[nogoldfish]

You talk as though I'm not capable of it myself.

[ Although, most likely, with some more underhanded methods.

He takes a breath, and straightens in his seat before he closes the book. Doesn't need to mark it to remember the page. Puts it on the nightstand, throws his coat a glance, and decides that it really would be far too warm if they're going to go out.

Besides, he's not fully convinced yet. But he does stand, and at least puts on a vest. ]

I'm not fond of crowds, Mister Lyman.

[ Preferences and likes and dislikes are generally pointless to argue against. ]

[hardballsy]

[He may be capable of it himself, but apparently not today.

Josh tries not to look too smug.]

Aw. There goes my plan to take you clubbing.

[That was obvious sarcasm.]

[nogoldfish]

[ Well, maybe he is bored. Shut up.

Just because he's put a vest on doesn't mean he's decided to come, though. Don't look smug at all. ]

I have yet to hear a good reason I should come with you.

[hardballsy]

Because I said so?

[But really.]

I try to make a point of not insulting people when I like them — [This is a complete lie.] — but when's the last time someone was so adamant about hanging out with you?

[nogoldfish]

There were some poor souls who didn't know better when I was still in school.

[ AKA you're a poor soul. ]