Neal waits until they’ve paid the cabby and are about to go inside before he draws Malcolm close and kisses him. “I’m being paranoid. We’ll go again, it’ll be good for me, right?”
It’s double-sided encouragement.
“Wasn’t expecting to see you out here.” It’s Gil, eyebrows raised, hands tucked into the pockets of his long trench coat. “I was going to call you, but I’ve been informed by someone who knows that my phone’s been tapped in conjunction with an ongoing FBI investigation.”
“Doesn’t protect me personally,” Gil says, apparently unbothered, though Malcolm no doubt catches the brief set of his jaw after he says it. Gil jerks his chin toward the door. “We going inside or going to stand out her gawping while Fall chews on us?”
Neal unlocks the door, goosebumps shivering over his arms. Gil, tapped? They have to know then, that there’s something that ties Malcolm and Neal to what happened at Ellen’s apartment. Even if they thought they got away clean.
Neal is connected to Ellen. Malcolm is connected to Neal. The FBI hates Malcolm. He believes they’re just casting their widest net. Once inside, he takes down two crystal tumblers, for Neal and Gil, and sets them near the decanter of scotch under the Goyas, then returns to the kitchen to put the kettle on.
Neal pours Gil and himself drinks, debating whether or not to text Mozzie to ask the other man if he can search Malcolm's place for bugs. Neal could do it himself, sure, but Mozzie has the equipment.
Then again, the fewer people who come and go when Ellen is here, the better.
Speaking of whom--she descends, raising her eyebrows a little at Neal and Gil's early drinks. "The news is that good, huh?"
"He thinks a rich friend of mine might be interested in investing in his burgeoning alcohol manufacturing business." Gil smirks, pleased that Malcolm is pleased.
"Interesting," Ellen says. "Back in the day, one of the Flynns' big arenas was moving alcohol and fake cigars."
That's more for Neal and Malcolm's benefit than Gil's, clearly. Neal makes a thoughtful noise, sipping his morning scotch and trying not to think too hard about the fact that he's drinking before noon. "That is interesting."
“Thank you, Gil!” Malcolm enthuses, looking at Neal giddily. See? It’s all working out. Malcolm is good at being Rich People. He can talk to this person face to face.
"That's what we're going to find out," Malcolm says, making a flourish in the air with a tea spoon before turning to scoop loose leaf tea into a diffuser.
It takes, in Neal’s opinion, forever for the first meeting. Gil ends up getting Dani to go with Malcolm after he catches himself bring surveilled, but Neal, Ellen, and Peter all get to listen in and watch on the pen microphones in Malcolm’s breast pocket and the little camera placed in Dani’s top coat button. Both courtesy of Mozzie and better than the FBI could supply without turning heads.
“Testing,” Neal says, just to get his voice in Malcolm’s ear. “One-two-three.”
That makes Malcolm grin at the floor before glancing at Dani and composing himself.
Dani’s been dressed to pass as Malcolm’s assistant. She didn’t seem happy about that, but she is fine with Malcolm doing the talking.
Malcolm, who doesn’t really play parts, he just gets inside heads, offers his hand when they reach their mark. “Malcolm Bright. Nice to meet you.” He’s rich and a bit sketchy; they can check if they want.
"That's him," Ellen says, fascinated by the video on the little computer screen. "He looks so much like his father."
Neal reaches out to take Ellen's hand, quietly furious that this guy came after them and he dares to share air with Malcolm. Even though that's the whole point of the meeting.
The would-be assassin eyes Malcolm with interest as he shakes the man's hand. He's broad-shouldered, blond, and his suit is expensive and well tailored. Not perfect, and not effortless the way Malcolm and Neal tend to be. This is a man not used to polish trying hard to pretend that he is. "Dennis Flynn Jr, though I guess you know that already. Good to meet you too."
He gestures toward the private bar Malcolm met him in, connected to the distillery he's been building for almost a year. "Please, have a seat. What's your poison?"
The other man smirks a little, reaching for one of the highest-caliber bottles. Not the highest, but close.
Neal says, “Ask him if he’s saving the Yamazaki Single Malt for a special occasion. When he goes for a bottle, say not the twelve year, the twenty-five.”
Ellen glances at Neal, eyebrows raised. Gil seems similarly impressed from his place on an adjacent couch, but Peter, on Gil’s other side, just rolls his eyes.
Malcolm does as instructed and the would-be gangster takes down a different bottle, splashing two fingers into the glass carelessly, like he’s pouring water.
“Sláinte,” Malcolm says, tilting the glass towards him before taking a swallow.
Dennis Jr knocks back his own glass, squinting in what he manages to frame as appreciation. “Mmh. Amazing. You know your whiskeys.”
He tops off his own glass before adding an extra splash to Malcolm’s. A glance at Dani shows he’s not going to offer the assistant any, and she purses her lips, annoyed by everything but the lack of booze.
The man leans the small of his back against the bar and shelves behind him. "I'd have to hear more about what you mean before I could answer that properly."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
It’s double-sided encouragement.
“Wasn’t expecting to see you out here.” It’s Gil, eyebrows raised, hands tucked into the pockets of his long trench coat. “I was going to call you, but I’ve been informed by someone who knows that my phone’s been tapped in conjunction with an ongoing FBI investigation.”
no subject
He frowns when Gil says his phone’s been tapped.
“Can they do that? You’re the head of major crimes.”
no subject
Neal unlocks the door, goosebumps shivering over his arms. Gil, tapped? They have to know then, that there’s something that ties Malcolm and Neal to what happened at Ellen’s apartment. Even if they thought they got away clean.
no subject
no subject
Then again, the fewer people who come and go when Ellen is here, the better.
Speaking of whom--she descends, raising her eyebrows a little at Neal and Gil's early drinks. "The news is that good, huh?"
no subject
no subject
He clocks it, though, and can’t help but see some of his relationship with Malcolm in her relationship with Neal.
“Are we continuing scrabble, or is there business to discuss?” she nods to Gil.
“Business, then scrabble,” Gil says. “I got in touch with a guy who got in touch with a guy who got us a meeting with the younger Flynn.”
no subject
“Really? When? What does he think it’s about?” he asks excitedly.
no subject
"Interesting," Ellen says. "Back in the day, one of the Flynns' big arenas was moving alcohol and fake cigars."
That's more for Neal and Malcolm's benefit than Gil's, clearly. Neal makes a thoughtful noise, sipping his morning scotch and trying not to think too hard about the fact that he's drinking before noon. "That is interesting."
no subject
no subject
“I have to wonder what he’s actually doing, if he’s also moving on Ellen for no apparent reason.”
no subject
no subject
“Testing,” Neal says, just to get his voice in Malcolm’s ear. “One-two-three.”
no subject
Dani’s been dressed to pass as Malcolm’s assistant. She didn’t seem happy about that, but she is fine with Malcolm doing the talking.
Malcolm, who doesn’t really play parts, he just gets inside heads, offers his hand when they reach their mark. “Malcolm Bright. Nice to meet you.” He’s rich and a bit sketchy; they can check if they want.
no subject
Neal reaches out to take Ellen's hand, quietly furious that this guy came after them and he dares to share air with Malcolm. Even though that's the whole point of the meeting.
The would-be assassin eyes Malcolm with interest as he shakes the man's hand. He's broad-shouldered, blond, and his suit is expensive and well tailored. Not perfect, and not effortless the way Malcolm and Neal tend to be. This is a man not used to polish trying hard to pretend that he is. "Dennis Flynn Jr, though I guess you know that already. Good to meet you too."
He gestures toward the private bar Malcolm met him in, connected to the distillery he's been building for almost a year. "Please, have a seat. What's your poison?"
no subject
no subject
Neal says, “Ask him if he’s saving the Yamazaki Single Malt for a special occasion. When he goes for a bottle, say not the twelve year, the twenty-five.”
Ellen glances at Neal, eyebrows raised. Gil seems similarly impressed from his place on an adjacent couch, but Peter, on Gil’s other side, just rolls his eyes.
no subject
“Sláinte,” Malcolm says, tilting the glass towards him before taking a swallow.
no subject
He tops off his own glass before adding an extra splash to Malcolm’s. A glance at Dani shows he’s not going to offer the assistant any, and she purses her lips, annoyed by everything but the lack of booze.
“Is that why you reached out?”
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
But he doesn't sound disinterested.
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)