Despite resisting the urge to yank his hand out of Spencer's grasp, Lassiter can't help the small jerk of reaction along his arm. Damn. His hip feels bruised, right on the bone, and his mug... His wife, ex-wife, whatever it is she wants to call herself these days, gave him that for Christmas a few years ago. So, it was nothing fancy, just a plain black mug with a couple of minimalist scarlet lines running through it. It was him. She had all her chintzy ornaments, but she had still known exactly what he would like.
And now it was cracked and unusable.
"Now try telling me something useful, Spencer." He might have sneered a little.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-10-12 12:50 am (UTC)And now it was cracked and unusable.
"Now try telling me something useful, Spencer." He might have sneered a little.