In a fishing boat off the coast of Key West, Sunday afternoon

[vdistinctive]

Like Eliot was going to work a job in Key West without dragging his team out for some fishing? Sure. Right. It wasn't like Hardison could fuss about racist militias on the OPEN OCEAN, after all.

. . . He was waiting for the argument about pirates. Or maybe mosquitos. Or sharks. Whatever, they had a cooler full of beer, a boat to themselves, and an extremely low probability of running into any magic monsters this far from Fandom. Eliot was going to call it a win.

[ooc: for Leveragians and likely slow play.]

Comments

[vdistinctive]

"The last time I let you try out one of your idle outdoor fantasies you got pneumonia."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Well-played, Eliot. Well-played.

"Yeah...well..." Hardison struggled to come up with an appropriate counter. "Fine. But you're gonna be the one who's sad after spendin' an hour watchin' all this swimmin' through the ocean like a naken water nymph is all I'm sayin'."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot raised an eyebrow. "We have a boat, Hardison."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Oh, so you're all up in arms about a little bit of sand everywhere, but splinters, those are okay." Hardison's grin suggested he might not be as opposed to this idea as his complaining would suggest.

[vdistinctive]

"Right, 'cause I definitely rented us a 19th century sailing vessel instead of a modern fiberglass boat."