it sounds like a bad joke

[watchesthewatchers]

A genius and a spy walk into a grocery store.

Comments

[watchesthewatchers]

"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you. Put those back, they're ungodly. I want to go back to the vegetables."

An impish smile.

[profiteering]

"All right. I like a man with ideas."

That and he's becoming increasingly susceptible to that smile, the mischievous one.

[watchesthewatchers]

"Well. As a young man from a poor family growing up in the UK in the late eighties and early nineties, shall I say that my music wouldn't so much have stolen yours' lunch money as mugged it and beaten it half to death with a beer bottle."

He murmurs, sounding so very posh.

[profiteering]

"Kids these days."

He grins at him.

"Did your music ever turn you into an icon, though?"

Behind them, people are peeking around stacks of cereal and bags of chips, just watching and following.

[watchesthewatchers]

"In a manner of speaking, yes. It was individualistic anarcho-punk."

Shrugging.

"But not quite as specifically as yours did, I must admit."

[profiteering]

"Play some for me. When we get back to the house."

It's very hard to imagine a man in a conservative suit being into punk anything. Which, he supposes, is the point.

[watchesthewatchers]

"Maybe one day I'll dig out a picture."

Recalling, as he puts zucchini, squash, fresh corn into their cart.

[profiteering]

"Oh. Oh, if you don't, I'm going to go hunting for one."

That would be worth hunting for.

[watchesthewatchers]

"You won't find them unless I let you."

He promises, serenely. Four different kinds of cheese, all vitally important.

[profiteering]

"Then I'll just have to apply a little leverage."

He picks up one of the cheeses and examines it.

[watchesthewatchers]

It's something pretty, creamy, dutch. Peter is ahead of him now, onto olives and pickled red peppers.

[profiteering]

"So what is all this going to be?"

He's briefly interrupted by requests to pose for cell phone pictures, which he obliges because he's on vacation.

[watchesthewatchers]

"Pepper said I had to keep you for the week."

He informs him, happily.

"Your health is of concern."

[profiteering]

"What? What's wrong with my health? Is she making me do that detox thing again? I don't wanna do that."

He leaves the fans behind and is glad it's a small store in a small town.

"I didn't know you and Pepper were conspiring."

[watchesthewatchers]

"Detox and a week in bed."

All innocent again.

That part may have been his improvisation.

[profiteering]

Tony picks up the zucchini and plays with it.

"You've got a big job ahead of you. She didn't tell you I turn into an eccentric squirrel when I'm in bed too long?"

[watchesthewatchers]

Peter snorts. And can't look at Tony while he's holding that, sorry.

He gets them to the meat section in a hurry.

[profiteering]

Tony laughs, carefree and loud.

"You're worse than I am."

[watchesthewatchers]

"I am not."

Making a few hurried selections.

"Go find me gnocci."

[profiteering]

"Good taste."

Which is why he goes, and comes back with three boxes.

"You're spoiling me."

[watchesthewatchers]

"Howso?"

Not disagreeing, but curious.

[profiteering]

"Well, it's not that I can't get decent food, it's just...I have to pay them. And I cook, but only when I'm trying to soften a blow."

He shrugs.

"So this is nice."

[watchesthewatchers]

"Perhaps I am trying to soften you up."

Smiling, quietly.

[profiteering]

"Now why would you want that?"

Smiling secretly at him, before he looks away to browse yogurts.

[watchesthewatchers]

"I think we can both agree my paycheck is due to swell."

Practically batting his eyelashes.