Freelance Police HQ, Sunday
It was one of those days at work. The kind where, yet again, Reno was going to lean back in the chair, prop his feet up on the desk, and waste time by making a few phone calls. First off, he'd have to leave some kind of shmoopy message for Rikku, naturally. And then call to tell Doji that yes, his clothes were back, and they could go to the zoo on Tuesday. He and Romeo hadn't had a chance to just hang out and be idiots with one another lately, so he got a call too. And maybe he'd wrap it up by calling Rude back home, just to see how he was doing.
That accomplished, he set his cell phone to cut directly to voice mail and resumed leaning back and doing as little as possible. Really, the last thing he needed was to get shot at over his own phone while he was here, too.
A while later, when he checked his messages, he had to stop, blink, and, of course, return them.
[Freelance Police HQ is open! Feel free to direct your wrong numbers to the phone thread here today, too. They'll probably result in gunfire.]
That accomplished, he set his cell phone to cut directly to voice mail and resumed leaning back and doing as little as possible. Really, the last thing he needed was to get shot at over his own phone while he was here, too.
A while later, when he checked his messages, he had to stop, blink, and, of course, return them.
[Freelance Police HQ is open! Feel free to direct your wrong numbers to the phone thread here today, too. They'll probably result in gunfire.]