“Are you trying to give me a health talk?”
{ Because he’s gonna buy Chef Boyardee and you really can’t tell him any different. }
“Pfft, no.” She gestured at the three pints of ice cream in her basket. Picking up a can, she showed him the bottom. “Look at the date.”
*also grumbles something slightly more coherent about Sherlock and /his/ illegal gorgeousness and stupid annoying personality*
What was that? I didn’t hear you. Was it something about my gorgeousness?
Yes now shut up. You’re much nicer when you don’t talk and I’m just looking at you.
“That’s the point. You’ve known me for a few hours. You don’t know shit about me so why act like you do?” Tony growled not looking at her. “The last dude with red hair I was with ended up killing my gold fish and stealing my car,” he said in a mocking voice. “So why not just assume every red head is a murderer of adorable fish and plans to commit grand theft auto?”
“On one experience, your point is valid. But twice, thrice, a dozen times? If every redhead you meet kills your fish and steals your car, are you not safer assuming every one you meet will do the same?” Her voice was sad. “Change my mind. We’ve this bet. Change my mind, Tony.”
Tony turned and looked at her. “If you kill my fish I swear I will drop kick you so hard.” He rolled his eyes. “You’d better be prepared to lose this shit.”
“If I kill your fish, I’ll deserve it.” Summer threw her head back against the armrest. “Unless you’ve, hmm, persuasions to apply, though, right now I really ought to do some of my reading. I won’t mind your continuing company, but I’m not like to be very attentive. The Inferno’s a bit complex.” She tipped her head up to look Tony in the eyes. “Benefit of the doubt, yes?”
