[Blake takes his hand in a firm grip, though for once he doesn't try to do that thing where you squeeze too hard to show you're tough. Rude could probably dislocate his arm anyway. The man can throw a punch.]
[They always complain about touching. Blake has a good sense if how much you can get away with before the officer on duty feels obliged to get off their ass, learned from the other way around.]
See you around.
[He lets go and steps back. Something comes into his head, something odd. A thing that doesn't often come out of his mouth.]
no subject
[They always complain about touching. Blake has a good sense if how much you can get away with before the officer on duty feels obliged to get off their ass, learned from the other way around.]
See you around.
[He lets go and steps back. Something comes into his head, something odd. A thing that doesn't often come out of his mouth.]
[Ah, to hell with it.]
Thanks.