AN: One of many neglected fics in my sentbox. Trying to get all out of the way so I can quit with relatively few regrets. This is one of two or three that I actually like.
Beta'ed, and vastly improved, by the fabulous Allthinky.
"Sure you don't want one of these? They'd suit you really well. That was not a pun, y'know."
"If it was, that in itself would put me off."
"I happen to know that your spy wardrobe is as depleted as mine, due to having received your annual quota of bombs and bullets, same as yours truly. And you will not find a better place than Lim's, nor a…"
"Uh, no thanks, man, I'll pass."
Kelly runs his hand lovingly over the lapel of the silk/wool blend of the suit jacket he's wearing, and turns to admire his reflection a final time before scooping up five suits from Lim's annual 75% off sale. Like any good spy, he scopes out the rest of the store in the mirror behind him…
…and stops short, catching sight of Scotty fingering the fabric of a sleeve, longingly.
Part of being a good spy is being a good detective. He curses himself for an unobservant fool as it all adds up: for a while now, his partner's been picking the cheapest thing in restaurants, never, now he remembers it, ordering up from room service, letting Kelly buy the trinkets and gifts for Mom instead of fighting good-naturedly with him to be the one to pay as they always do.
He's short of bread.
Kelly shifts so that the curtain hides his face as he continues to watch Scotty; he moves towards another suit, and now Kelly can definitely see regret. He keeps watching unobtrusively, checking out his partner's movements. True, Scotty sends a good portion of his salary home to Philly, but they just got a raise, and Scotty's not a spendthrift like he, Kelly, is: what could have eaten up his paycheck?
Scotty's moved on to shirts: Kelly watches his long brown fingers linger over soft cream fabric, puzzling over it. He can't believe that anyone in the family's sick: Scotty would have told him. Scotty himself, sick? The flare of fear only lasts a fraction of a second: free medical care is one of the few perks of the job, it wouldn't dent his finances, plus, Kelly would have known about it. What, then?
He pulls the curtain to, slipping out of the splendid suit, running the puzzle through his mind. When was the last time he saw Scotty spending any heavy coins? Must've been, what, six weeks ago, when they were in Sicily and Scotty got the announcement of Sophia's wedding…
Oh.
Well, that explains it. Should've known he was sending what little was left of his paycheck to his daughter and her good-for-nothing husband.
Kelly shoulders into his green polo shirt, shimmying into his white canvas jeans and adjusting his attire in the mirror. This had better just be wedding expenses, because he's damned if he's going to do what he's about to do more than once, or twice.
"See? See? The Lord watches over the righteous, my man!" Scotty crows delightedly as they emerge laden with bags, each man bearing a tailoring receipt for five of Mr. Lim's best suits and weighted down with a corresponding number of shirts and ties.
"Righteous? Right, righteous. It seems to me that the so-called, the so-called righteous only got in on my coat-tails, the coat-tails of those who toil and spin."
"Toil and spin? Who is this toiler and spinner of whom you speak? Oh, man, you shoulda seen your face." Scotty's face is positively glowing, like a kid's, and Kelly has to force himself to look half-disgruntled as Scotty impersonates Mr. Lim, grinning gleefully. "'And now, wirr you gentermen do me the honor of serecting your free merchandise?'"
"You, sir, are enjoying this far too…"
"Admit it, Hoby. You are just jealous that they had a two-for-one sale and you didn't know it until you'd paid for all your stuff."
"It is as they say," says Kelly, dramatically raising the back of one hand to his forehead, the effect slightly spoiled by the carrier bag still dangling from his hand. "The woman always pays."
The delight fades a little from Scotty's face. "Hey, man, maybe I oughta pay for half…"
"No, no, you stay on the side of the saints, I'll stay on the side of the sinners." That came out way more maudlin than Kelly had intended, and he covers quickly. "Sinners get more gals, you see."
"Right. Just you wait until the females get a load of my sartorial eloquence, my man," Scotty slides him a superior look out of the corners of his eyes. "You will be yesterday's news."
"I would just like to see you try to eclipse my brilliance, and furthermore…"
Philip Lim looks out of the window of his store at the retreating figures of his two best customers. Odd, but not unusual, given the number of unusual requests he's had over the years, for Mr. Robinson to request that he add Mr. Scott's merchandise to his bill and perform this little charade. All good business for him; who'd say no to selling ten suits instead of five? But, he thinks with a little chill, he'll certainly keep it a secret. He doesn't know, but he suspects Mr. Robinson would shoot him or something if the secret was ever found out.
Honestly, he thinks, turning back into the store with a light laugh. Shoot him. He must be getting fanciful in his old age.