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[conning]

"It's Caffrey. Remember the value of plausible deniability. I'll get back to you."

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[abrightboy]

Impulsively, Malcolm hugs him. Clings to him, really, for a moment, then releases him and picks up his cup of cold tea, turning it around in his hands, looking down into it, grateful that he drank enough that the liquid isn’t sloshing out.

“Maybe you can come over tomorrow to. Do something.” He looks up. “Did you want to learn how to fight with knives or something?”

[conning]

Neal returns the hug, relieved and aching at the same time. He smiles at the offer. “I’d like that.”

He’d like the learning, anyway. He’d like being taught. And it’s a bridge built toward normalcy.

[abrightboy]

“Let me know how it goes with your inmate. I hope… I hope it’s someone you can connect with and appreciates your help,” Malcolm tells him.

[conning]

“I will. He’s definitely from a world I’m experienced with, at least.”

He finally pops the apple and Brie into his mouth, crunching a moment before he can say anything. “That’s good cheese.”

He gives Malcolm’s hand one more little squeeze. “I’ll see you later.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods.

You better.

“Good luck.”