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Comments

[onewordmore]

And it must be said that Alexis had the tendency to surround himself with people who also spoke prettily, and he very much liked it that way, too.

"Mmm," was all he would get by way of a response, however, and a continued massage, albeit one that was slightly distracted, if relaxing.

Alexis had been a little more on edge lately, especially since they were nearing the end of the initial phases, since the subsequent ones were to be far more dangerous -- even more so now that there were non-Blonds involved, as well. It was easy to be branded an apologist and treated just as badly, and Rene did not need that in his life.

"Sorry, cher. There's been a lot on my mind lately."

[thereistheduck]

"There's always a lot on your mind, and you do not have to apologize to me about it."

He assured. Rather, he'd prefer if Enjolras shared it, though he would never press for it. If that came, it would come in its own good time, and that would be that. In the meanwhile, he would stay where he was, and they would be like this; on the edge of something great and terrible, with their own complimentary thoughts and actions put to the test.

Besides...

"How could I complain? I did say I admired the thinker more than the doer." So having a lot on his mind made perfect sense. It was better than having a lot on his plate. It meant a lull, for now.

[onewordmore]

He appreciated that most in Rene, his patience and his accepting nature. The longer Alexis stayed near him, the calmer he became; the AMIS detective complemented him well, even if he did not want to admit that the other was right on occasion and usually still moved of his own accord.

The last heist, even, had felt stale, didn't quite give him the usual rush; it was far too easy and hadn't accomplished much. That had had much to do with Rene's influence, really. The thinking, the planning, the worrying, really, which changed a lot about how Alexis viewed his own significance as both public figures -- celebrated Blondist journalist, and dangerous extremist their extraordinaire.

It was always Enjolras or Vir; it was never just Alexis anymore -- except with Rene, sometimes Jehan.

Quietly, "It'll be one more, maybe two, just to make sure. And then we wait."

He paused in both speech and massage. "It'll be safer then, for a little bit; you won't need to worry quite as much."

That false peace would not last for long, though. But hopefully Alexis would be able to get Rene out of there in time.

[thereistheduck]

That earned a soft snort, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Safer, for a bit? No, Alex would toss himself into harm's way again, with and for good cause. Combeferre wasn't fooled by the eye of the storm.

And if he meant safer for himself?

"You won't be getting rid of me so easily."

He assured. He planned to quit the force, at this rate. To take up a medical position, at a volunteer hospital. Then he could be free with his opinions, and go to arms with Alex and the others.

There was really no alternative.

"And I will always worry. For you especially. But you may be the one who needs it least; I know you don't plan lightly."

[onewordmore]

The alternative would be to stand down and allow Alexis's plan to pass.

That is to say, Vir's plan.

"And for that I will always be grateful, Rene." A kiss to the top of his head.

[thereistheduck]

"Well, no one is asking you to say thank you; it's the right thing to do, even if I don't agree with how you go about it. You, that kid--" For safety's sake, always, he didn't name names. Not even within his own apartment, after seeing how easily it was broken into, tapped into. "--even that crazed one, with the uh-- hair. That does the thing. All three of you are up for who will take the fall for this. All of it. You naturally assume it will be you... I just wonder if you've prepared for the alternative?" He was so moral, in his own way; Rene didn't think he could prepare for it, not being the final martyr.

[onewordmore]

It wasn't even an option. As much as he would love to pin everything on let him take the fall for everything that transpired, there was no glory in knowing that the man would be given far more credit than he was worth -- especially after all the torment he continued to bring upon all of them. No amount of punishment dealt to him by the government would change any of that, either.

And Jehan… Alexis wouldn't be able to bear it, seeing his young friend in such bindings; he was a freer spirit than even himself, and he would never wish something like that upon such a good friend.

It was only logical that it be him. He was Vir.

"So much for 'less emphatically illegal'?" he teased lightly in response.

[thereistheduck]

"So much for that." He agreed, with the barest of smiles, sitting properly now, all tepid consideration and thought that left his now-opened eye mildly narrowed. Then, he blinked and shook his head.

"You know, they can make anyone Vir. Anyone. If they find out it's you, and you're ready to own it? They'll apprehend you, sure. And from behind bars, they'll have you watch someone else take the public fall. It's not the police; that isn't how we operate. That's all government. Media, falsified evidence..." His voice was soft, light. He didn't want it traveling far past Alex's ears. "So think about it. Getting caught won't work to anyone's advantage."

[onewordmore]

Sliding into the chair next to Rene, Alexis set his eyes and fingers lightly upon the article just where it spoke of his name.

As usual, he had a good point; it was easy to forget that those in his father's world were not the sort to be beneath stealing even this moment from him. They had certainly done worse in his youth; the chemical smell of hair salons still made him viscerally ill even after all these years.

His voice was soft in turn. "I'll figure something out."

[thereistheduck]

"I don't doubt it."

He just doubted it would be enough. That it wouldn't ruin him... and others.

And that he wouldn't think it was worth it, even if it did not accomplish anything. Effort, above inacton.

"...So. Chinese, you said?"

[onewordmore]

Leaning back in the chair and letting go of the topic at last; Rene had That Face on, and they weren't going to get into how infuriatingly correct he was.

"No beef this time, though; it was questionably mushy last time. Poultry maybe?"

[thereistheduck]

"Not duck."

He chimed in, giving him That Face Redux.

"I mean it. Fried dumplings, maybe? Pork. And vegetable something... lo mein? Fried rice? I don't know, surprise me."

He reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet, handing it up to him.

A beat.

"Not Duck, Alex."

[onewordmore]

Holding onto the wallet so that their fingers were touching, Alexis gave him a smile halfway between mischievous and innocent.

"But Ne, they're famous for their duck…" All the teasing. Forever.

Except he was hungry, so he leaned forward and gave Rene a peck on the lips and released the wallet (and Rene's fingers) entirely before leaning back in his chair again, only a credit card and cell phone in each hand.

"Fine. No duck."

[thereistheduck]

Rene rolled his eyes slightly. Robbed of two letters and two of his minutes. What had he gotten into?

"I will go rogue and order pizza. Mark my words. No duck. Good luck."

[onewordmore]

Grinning just a little, Alexis stood and sauntered over to the kitchen to order, running the card between his fingers on a single hand like one would a coin or pen. Totally showing off.

The slightly muffled order could be heard through the open area: vegetable lo mein, fried pork dumplings, and duck with garlic sauce. … Oh, did he say duck? He meant chicken; sorry about that! Yes, that would be by card.

[thereistheduck]

And yes, that is a book, aimed right for the back of your head, sailing your way. And the absolute most indignant look, followed by a suffering sigh and head in his hands.

If they did bring the duck, so help him God...

He'd sit in his study and read all night, drinking only black coffee, and suddenly finding himself very busy.

[onewordmore]

The most effortless sidestep to allow it to sail past, but, as if in afterthought, a graceful bend to catch the book before it splayed and crimped its pages on the floor.

"Twenty-five minutes?" Eyeing the book now as he turned. Looking back up at Rene, mouthed almost poutily, "Rousseau, really?" Back at the phone, "Yes, that'd be perfect, thank you. And please-- make sure it's chicken, not duck. Thanks!"

When he'd reentered the dining area, Alexis set the phone by Rene's elbow and called out, "Rude."

[thereistheduck]

"Yes, you were. I'm glad the book had its effect on your conscience."

Noted, even if he was a little incorrigible in the way he'd grasped it out of the air, as if he were the duck, and the book... the book, whatever ducks ate.

Okay, no more ducks. He was getting senselessly frustrated by their frequency in the conversation and thought processes of the last five minutes.

"Rousseau. Really."

[onewordmore]

Bread? Bread. Fish, sometimes?

Alexis shrugged his amusement, running his fingerprints across Rene's bookspines as he idly perused the rest of his library (again) and replaced the book where it belonged.

"Émile hardly changed my mind; I had intended to order the chicken from the start."

Though not without also fucking with you a little, of course. Rene always got so flustered; it was a great source of entertainment every time.

[thereistheduck]

"You intended to say duck from the start. And that is why Émile had a word with you. Or 72,000."

What did Alexi take him for, a fool? Oh no, no, no. That innocent act would fool no one in this room, thank you.

But he knew a way back at him. Gently,

"Will you answer the door wearing your crown? Your Majesty, King-- no, Emperor Alexi. I am honoured that you deign to have your ginger chicken beside me."

[onewordmore]

Alexis laughed. "The Journalist intended good, and it has degenerated in the hands of Homo."

For if he was Vir, surely that made Rene his human image in turn.

"Garlic chicken, peon, and you can starve for your irreverence; the lo mein and dumplings are mine now, too." A little vindictively there, for if he was to be a monarch, then he would play him to the fullest and have his cake, too, dammit.

[thereistheduck]

"Its a humanities, by study. I'd assume that homo is par for the course, in the modern telling of history-in-the-making." The obvious pun was not lost to him; nor was it strictly applicable.

Then again, as a staunch humanist, it certainly was.

"Ah, but even the lo mein? The lo- does not linguistically imply that it is for the low? Maybe I'll incite a revolution, if that's the case. Arm myself with chopsticks and pluck that crown off your head. Why should you eat garlic chicken up in your golden tower, while I pay for that chicken, and starve? It is a debate of ethics. Those who are immoral are not immortal. Remember that, when your fortune cookie foretells immanent doom." He said all of this with intellectual dispassion; just the facts, Msr.

[onewordmore]

Ah, it was that old banter between Enjolras and Combeferre, journalist and scholar, vir et homo; spending so much time in person with one another, it had been quite a while since their last wordy battle. Come to life here, in Rene's dining room, sounded aloud in his expressive tenor...

Alexis rounded the table to stand tall, regal, before the seated Rene.

"Such speech is treasonous, punishable by beheading via guillotine. Chopsticks are restricted to the nobility, and garlic chicken is eaten in the white tower; do get your facts straight, and stand properly in line. Are you prepared for your final stale cookie, Msr. Homo?"

Death by fortune cookie was certainly better than by stale cake -- or corn muffin, for that matter.

[thereistheduck]

The arrogant man stood erect. The modest man hunched. Such was an apt comparison here, especially for the roles they'd taken on.

Be humble in posture, and sharp of eye.

"So summon your blade, since you haven't the skill to cut with your sticks. Ah, that's the plight of nobility; that they use one thing, but find another more useful. Namely: the peasants cut with knives, and the King uses only his chopsticks. He calls upon a man who owns knives to be useful when there is a treason, to cut off a head. But what when the man with the knives is he who has committed the treason? He storms the white tower, and all His Majesty has in his regal possession is his majesty, and a pair of golden chopsticks. Both have lost their shine, as he loses his eyes that once spied their luster, along with the rest of his head. You see what it is I am saying? I say, keep your garlic chicken. We have fried noodles. It is sustenance enough. And when there is no more left, then it is we who have the chicken, and the trick of cooking it; and you who have an empty stomach. That, my liege, is why revolution works. Give me my cookie; I will eat it with pride."

[onewordmore]

Grabbing Rene's chin and tilting it up further even as he bent down to meet his gaze head on.

"You speak too freely and think too boldly; I will have you gagged and strung before the masses in all manner of humiliation."

He let go and wandered toward the front door just as the bell rang.

"But forgetting your place comes at a high enough price, so why incite further punishment upon yourself?" Opening the door, Alexis threw over his shoulder. "Martyrdom doesn't suit you, friend."

"No, but it suits you just fine, Your Majesty."

Alexis's blood ran cold and there was a gun pressed to Montparnasse's forehead just as quickly as there was a knife to his throat.

"Hello, Vir; hello, Rene. I hope you like duck." With the most self-satisfied smile.