“You even admit my place,” he said, glad they could turn it into a bit of a joke that easily. If only because they’d had enough tension on their own without adding to it from the past. “But you’re going to argue with me? What is this,” he asked, leaning his brow against Arthur’s with a soft sigh. “Seeing you in that bed killed me,” he admitted. “I was cursing myself for days.”



He made a face, leaning back then to meet Arthur’s gaze. “MacIntosh,” he admitted, making a face. “You know how he was. Paranoid git through and through. I got through it though and then never worked with him again. Ungrateful bastard stiffed me too.” He shook his head, feeling a small flair of anger at something so old.