is that a gun in your pocket? // rick && tai

Tai jammed his hands in his pockets as he and Richard walked down the streets into the restaurant that Richard had chosen, trying not to tense up. While he didn't think that this was some very elaborate set-up, he still couldn't help but feel uneasy. This was very much not the sort of place he was used to or supposed to be in and he knew he was getting funny looks, the very obviously Lower Class guy walking around.

The restaurant was nice, Tai guessed, judging from its location and the decoration, although Tai honestly had no idea. The colors were soothing though, compared with the dull greys of the Lower Class and Slums areas he was used to. He couldn't help but want to nick a few pieces of silverware or something. Maybe something made real wood, that'd be bound to get a good price. If he hadn't been there with Richard, he probably would have.

As it was, he tried to focus on what Richard was saying, although it sounded like he was simply rambling about the food here. Something called 'guac?' Should he ask? Would that make Richard realise that Tai had no idea what he was doing? Fuck it, judging from all the bad jokes Richard kept making, Tai figured he could write it off as a bad joke on his part if things looked too bad.

“What's 'guac?'”

Tai listened to Richard attempt to explain whatever the hell 'guac' was with growing suspicion. There was no way there was a food like that. And what the hell was an avocado? It sounded either fake or utterly disgusting or both, to be perfectly honest. Not that Tai was going to say that and risk alienating Richard. Especially not in someplace as fancy as this; any argument or even general sign of disagreement in Richard, and Tai knew there'd be police on him faster than he could blink. Better to tread carefully.

Tai shrugged to hide his embarrassment at not knowing something Richard obviously thought was commonplace. And to keep his mind off the fact that he'd still not told Richard the fact that he wasn't actually an assassin. That fact kept writhing around his head, along with he idea that if he told Richard, Richard would instantly leave. For some reason, Tai didn't want that; Richard was funny and had gorgeous eyes and was giving Tai food. And was going to pay Tai to kill a man.

He could do this. Probably.

Tai watched Rick flag down the waiter and order avocados, whatever those even were, along with a bowl and tomatoes? What was going on? Whatever, it's not like it was important in the long run. What was important was that Rick was about to start actually talking business.

Tai listened to Rick tell him the basics of the job, the sense of worry that had been riding around his stomach resolving into something akin to cool purpose. He could do this. Richard had a plan, so Tai didn't need to worry about coming up with one himself. It was either a very elaborate setup or it wasn't, and Tai highly doubted that there'd be a setup this elaborate to catch someone as unimportant as the simple thug that he was. Tai calmed down and relaxed, his feelings of worry and confusion finally beginning to dissipate. At least until the waiter came back.

The waiter came back with a plate of rocks? And a bowl of what was obviously chopped onions and another that was probably chopped tomatoes. So were the rocks what Richard called avocados?

Tai couldn't help the hand that came out and grabbed one of the rocks, brings it closer to his face to examine it. It was dark green, pear shaped, and kinda squishy. Other than that Tai had no idea. “Is this an avocado?”

For a minute, Tai thought Richard was serious about the grenade prototype thing. Until Richard took one and cut it open, revealing a lighter green flesh on the inside. So it was some sort of fruit or something. Not that it actually mattered, but that was at least one thing solved. Tai shrugged again and put the avocado back on the plate.

Tai watched as Richard put the knife down between the two of them, trying to gauge his intentions. No one from the Slums would ever willingly leave a weapon where someone they barely knew could easily grab it. But then again, they were hardly in the Slums right now, and it wasn't like Richard would have the same reactions that he would. And Richard was very busily mashing the avocado he'd scooped out with the fork the waiter provided, so it didn't look like he'd noticed the flicker of surprise that had crossed Tai's face when he'd placed the knife on the table.

But the presence of the knife changed things, gave Tai a way out that he really hoped he wouldn't have to take. He picked it up and twirled it in his hands, trying to appear casual. The waiter was nowhere near them, so now was as good a time as any to tell Richard.

“I'm not a hitman,” he said. There, short and simple. Then on a whim, the same sort that had led him to this restaurant in the first place, “but I can be.”