“Jesus! We can't just sit here and twiddle our thumbs. Who's the brains of this outfit, anyway?""I think that was Shaw," Carl said wryly as his mind landed on an idea. "Before he went mad' that is. Now I suppose it's you, God help us. ""What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Shawn asked in a hurt voice. "I've not gone mad!""Uh huh. What's the plan, Dixie?" Carl asked as he spared Shawn a glance before turning his gaze back on Remy. Remy blinked at him. "You can't put him in charge," Shawn protested. "We'll be in the shit and he'll stop to get an ice cream, for fuck's sake!""What's wrong with ice cream?" Remy asked in an insulted voice. "I think you missed the point of the comment," Thiago muttered as he sat down in the kitchen besid Nikolaus.”

“So you st that charge, and then put yourself right smack in the middle of the blast radius?" Brandt asked with what might have been open admiration. Remy nodded curtly. "Marry me," Brandt requested with unholy glee.Remy cracked a smile and Carl laughed softly at Brandt's side. Shawn and Nikolaus both sat motionless, staring at Remy disbelievingly. Thiago rolled his eyes and cleared is throat. Nothing Remy did surprised him now.”

“He'd just called Shawn a bottom, though, and Shawn looked pissed. Call Remy a bottom and he would jump you and let you screw his brains out. Call Thiago a bottom and he would look at you for five minutes, shrug, and the go about his business. Call Nikolaus a bottom and he might cry. Call Brandt a bottom and you might get a blowjob, you might just get blown up. But call Shawn a bottom?Carl supposed he was about to find out what happened when you called Shawn a bottom.”

“Obsessive compulsive" Nikolaus mumble in amusement. "I would rather eat a grenade than make a line with two different colors!" Remy responded in a pained voice as he pointed at the pad of paper. Thiago snickered as he continued to torment the Cajun with his blue pen.Speaking of grenades, though... Brandt had a timing device around here somewhere. What had he done with it?”

“Deuce glanced at him before turning his attention back to Zane and Julian. “Dare I ask what you’ve done to deserve protective custody?” he asked Julian. “I deal antiques,” Julian answered in a soft voice. Deuce nodded, looking Julian up and down. He turned his head to look at Ty speculatively. “That’s a euphemism for ‘I kill things’, isn’t it?”

“Wyatt slowed to a stop. Noah continued on for a few feet before he realized Wyatt had dropped back, and he turned to look at him questioningly.“I don’t think I can do this,” Wyatt said. Noah nodded in understanding and walked back beside him. He reached up and smacked Wyatt on the side of the head.“Did you leave your balls in his toilet too?”" Ow! What? No!”“Then get the lead out, Case,” Noah said as he grabbed Wyatt’s elbow and began pulling him along.“I hate you.”

“Ty laughed, a carefree, boyish sound, and glanced to his side, distracted by what he saw. “You moved the rug.”“I kitty-cornered it.”“Why would you do that?” Ty asked, aghast.“To see you lose your shit when you got home.” Zane leaned closer, grinning evilly. “There are other things out of order too. Books not alphabetized. Coffee mug handles facing different directions.” He lowered his voice to a whisper as Ty’s eyes widened in horror. “The closet isn’t color coded.”“You’re just watching the world burn, huh?”Zane laughed.“God I missed you.” Ty said in a rush of breath.”