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“But you would miss me,” Fox grinned. “You know you can’t get enough of me.”
“We might raise some questions if the bodies start piling up.”
“The plane went down with a few passengers,” Lock shrugged. “We’ve been over this.”
“Yeah, but why would Fox be on the plane with Scottie for training?”
“Because Scottie was giving him flying lessons.”
“You guys,” Fox chuckled. “I would love to learn to fly. It would be so awesome. And I really like this whole murderous vibe you’ve got going. You know what we haven’t done in a while?”
“Throw knives at you?” I asked.
His eyes widened and he started pointing at me excitedly. “You remembered!”
“It’s one of the few thrills of my life,” I deadpanned. “Any chance you could stay outside at the gala?”
He snorted, shaking his head in amusement. “Why would I do that? Anna needs to be inside.”
“Yes, but the threat will be outside. Isn’t that where you want to be?”
“Gotta stay by my lady love. It would just be wrong to leave her alone with all those vultures. Besides, this is my first job truly back together with the team! I think I’ll wear a James Bond tux.”
“There’s a specific tux?” I questioned.
“Ooh, there’s this shop where you can rent tuxedos worn by men in movies. It’s totally cool. I’m so gonna pick up 007’s tux before the gala. You want me to get you one?”
“I can’t match you,” I snapped. “How would that look?”
Lock cleared his throat. “You realize that you’d be the only two that actually knew you were wearing James Bonds’ tux, right? You wouldn’t really be matching—other than the fact that you’d both be wearing tuxes. But then again, so would everyone else there.”
“You just have to ruin everything,” I snarled. “Why do you always have to be a Debbie Downer?”
“I was pointing out facts,” Lock argued.
“You were killing our vibe,” Fox agreed with me. “Why you gotta be like that, homey?”
“Homey?”
“Yeah, why’d you have to be such a buzzkill?” Then I turned to Fox. “I’d be Daniel Craig.”
He snorted, shaking his head at me. “No way. You’d be…Pierce Brosnan. You’re too fancy to be Craig.”
“And you’re too psychotic. You could pass for Sean Connery.”
His lips quirked at the corner. “I like that. Yeah, Connery was badass. I could totally be him. But you still couldn’t be anyone other than Brosnan. Your hair even matches.”
I snarled at him, running my fingers through my hair. “I resent that. My hair is so much better.”
“Are you kidding?” Fox said, eyes wide. “He’s got gorgeous hair. Did you ever see him in Mrs. Doubtfire? Total stud muffin.”
“Why?” Lock asked. “Why am I stuck with the two of you on this job?”
“Because you love us and we’re awesome,” Fox grinned. “Man, I can’t wait for this gala. It’s gonna be killer!”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Lock muttered with a sigh. “Looks like we’re going to have to put plan B into action.”
“What’s plan B?” Fox asked excitedly.
