Mordecai shut off the water. The stream quickly slowed to a steady drip. The last of the water sank into the drain as he reached over for a nearby towel. He began to dry himself with it, rubbing it into his wet fur. After burying his face into it, drying it off, he reached out and donned his glasses, which allowed him to see clearly once again. He continued to dry the rest of himself with the towel.

He'd recounted on that encounter that produced the broken glasses he'd received while in the shower. It wasn't a very pleasant memory. And mulling over it didn't quite give any clues as to why Viktor might have wanted to give those glasses back to him. Viktor knew he was here, and then he decided to just send this grim memento as his silent messenger? What could its meaning be? Mordecai certainly wasn't going to ask, even if granted the chance.

Mordecai continued to believe it was a threat. How could it not be? The two's last encounter was near cataclysmic, and Viktor's opinion couldn't have changed much in the time since. The glasses must be some sort of representation for Mordecai, such as, that was what Viktor was going to do to him. Or a reminder of Viktor's blatant violence in retaliation to Mordecai's actions back on that day. Maybe it was just a distraction, meant to purposely confuse Mordecai, making him ignorant to possible impending danger. Mordecai wasn't even sure that Viktor knew the reason why he did it.

Mordecai rubbed the towel into the outside of his arms, working to remove the water from himself. He stopped for a moment to clean off his glasses, which had fogged up from the steam still present in the bathroom. He'd probably end up having to do that a few more times before the steam had dissipated. Annoying.

"So then you're okay with the whole 'gangster' thing? No problems, right?" Rocky asked, leaning his head in his hand.

"Yeah. I wouldn't still be here if I wasn't," Freckle responded, sitting up straight in the nice seats of Mitzi's tenement.

"Even with the whole 'shooting people' issue? Because you're going to be doing more of that, I can almost guarantee it, cousin."

"Yeah, I'll, uh, do it if I need to." Freckle lightly held up the pistol in his grasp, only lifting it a few inches out of his lap before letting his arm drop back down.

"That's good to hear! And I wouldn't want to work beside anyone else more than you, Freckle." Rocky grinned.

"Sure." Freckle paused, staring into the middle distance for a moment. "When's the next time I'm supposed to do something like that?" Freckle focused back in the real world, turning to look at Rocky.

"Do something like what?"

"You know, shoot people and all that." Freckle subtly fidgeted in his seat, giving away to Rocky briefly that Freckle wasn't completely okay with the idea of that. Rocky wouldn't say anything of it now, but he took notice.

"Ah. Well, I don't know. I suppose it's next time Miss M. needs us to."

"Oh, alright."

Mordecai glanced towards the bathroom wall at his side. Now that the water had stopped running and the room was silent, he could hear through the walls and hear the other two's conversation. Granted, it was pretty heavily muffled, and he could only really make out Rocky's words, given how loud he was, but, nonetheless. Mordecai listened in rather curiously.

"So, how are things with you and Ivy?" Rocky changed the subject after that subject had been talked over.

"Good. I guess. We spent a while talking yesterday morning."

"Ah, romance. You and your sweetheart, spending all hours of the day lovingly chatting with each other. How ardent of you, Freckle."

"Uh, yeah, sure." Freckle often just dealt with the things Rocky said, and it was never more true than when Rocky was talking about Freckle and romance, the times when he did.

"It's almost like Romeo and Juliet, you two. Your mother would never approve, yet love keeps you two together. It's poetic. Beautiful. I applaud your inspirational story."

"Sure. I guess it's like that."

The two paused for a minute, both in thought. "So, what's, uh, Mordecai's story?" Freckle wondered, clearing his throat. He still wasn't too sure who Mordecai really was and why they were watching over him.

"Well, he used to work here, not too long ago, really. But, uh, he quit, for whatever reasons. He shot Viktor's knees before he left, which wasn't too popular. And now he works for the Marigolds, which are basically Lackadaisy's main business rival, as it were. So, he's been working against us, and uh, well now he's here." Rocky scratched the back of his head. "Does that explain it?"

"Not really."

"He's done some bad things before. And he robbed us of our guns and tried to destroy the whole business just the other night. That was when he became a, um, prisoner of war."

"'Bad things'? Like what?"

"Uh, well, I don't know everything, but I've heard that he's killed some people, raided some places. He's, well, he's pretty ruthless if rumors are to be believed." Rocky rubbed the back of his neck.

Mordecai's reputation continued to precede him, it would seem. Still, he was seen as ruthless and violent. That wasn't even necessarily false, but it continued to be his defining feature, even among his former employer and their employees. Fine.

"So he's bad? I mean, I've killed some people already."

"Exactly. I don't think he's really a bad person, and neither are you, Freckle. But he's done some bad things, you know?"

Well, from Mordecai's perspective, that was rather high praise, especially compared to others' opinion of him. Rocky was almost vouching for him, for whatever reason. That was… neat, would be how Mordecai could describe it.

"Sure." Freckle nodded slightly. He turned to the side and coughed into his hand. Freckle looked back at Rocky. "What's been going on between you two?"

Rocky cocked his head. "What d'ya mean?"

"Well, you were two were being… weirdly friendly to each other yesterday, even though he apparently did bad things. And you didn't even bother asking for permission to have him bathe here today. It's just strange."

"That's not 'strange', Freckle, I'm simply being hospitable; nothing wrong with that."

"So you're this nice to other people like him?" Freckle narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, well, uh, yeah! I'm friendly, cousin— surely you've noticed that by now."

"You go into the bathroom with people you're nice to?"

"That's—" Rocky paused, "that's a different situation. That was just to follow what Miss M. said to do."

"But you're not doing that now," Freckle said. Mordecai stopped drying himself with the towel. That's why it all stuck out to him so much; it didn't make sense for Rocky to be doing these things unless he had some sort of alternative motive. It was almost as if he had some sort of… No, Mordecai wouldn't be going down that road. He had had enough of Lackadaisy affairs, and there was no need to have his thoughts be of his captor. He'd had plenty of this sort of thing, and it would seem he was done with it. So he would be, simple as that. Although, it was good to know that he could potentially use such a thing to his advantage in trying to escape. And that was all it could be worth.

"You… That's not, uh… exactly what—" he stumbled through his words, unable to find the right thing to say in response to that.

"It doesn't matter that much. I was just wondering." Freckle turned away for a second, seemingly hiding his face from Rocky. "I just think that if he's done these bad things, you should be careful."

"Ah, well, of course I'll be careful, Freckle. I'm plenty careful." Rocky began smiling, although somewhat falteringly.

"That's a lie."

"It most certainly isn't. I'm careful enough to handle Mordecai's bad things."

Freckle furrowed his brow as he looked at Rocky with a disconcerting glare. "What, uh… No, you're not that careful. You've already managed to let him flirt with you."

Rocky's ears shot up as he noticeably sat up in his seat. "What?"

"It's obvious that's what was happening. I saw the look you had on coming out of that bathroom yesterday."

"That wasn't anything like that, I assure you."

"Sure. Just be careful. I know that you're usually not."

Mordecai carefully folded the towel and put it back where it was as it were before he used it. The only difference was that it was now wetter. He reached over and began donning the clothes that had been prepared by Rocky. They were a surprisingly good fit, seeming nearly as if they were from his own wardrobe. And they looked rather good on Mordecai. The tweed was a tad scratchy, but that was to be expected, really. It was a plenty suitable replacement for his now dirty suit he'd been wearing.

So, from what he'd been hearing through the walls, it seemed Rocky was a bit too awkward and Freckle was a bit too precise in his statements, such that it was clear that Rocky had certain specific feelings regarding Mordecai. That was interesting. Play his cards right, and he might just be able to convince Rocky to simply have him be let go or something of that nature. He had an emotional into Rocky's psyche. Useful.

Mordecai finished dressing himself. He grabbed the broken glasses from the pocket of his dirty suit and relocated them to the pockets of his new outfit. He glanced at himself in the mirror, taking just a moment to look over himself. Indeed, he looked rather nice. Rocky at least had had the logic to pick something of the right size and style for him. Good. Mordecai took the dirty clothes and held them under his arm as he opened the door to the bathroom and exited. He felt refreshed and free from the dirt and germs he'd almost certainly accumulated from the storeroom over the time he'd been there.

He walked over towards the area where the two cousins had said that they would be, which, of course ,was also the same general direction that he'd heard their voices coming from. He noticed the photographs and other decorations of the home as he walked through it. He remembered a lot of it, evidently.

Mordecai walked into the sight of Freckle and Rocky, who both turned to look at him, stopping near dead in their conversation. "...Well?" Mordecai asked in response to their sudden silence and clear staring. It was somewhat unexpected, but given their conversation he'd overheard earlier, that shouldn't have been true.

"Well, you, uh, you look good in that suit." Rocky responded, stumbling through his words slightly. It was clear that he was a bit flustered.

"Not exactly what I'd meant."

Freckle snickered, getting a wayward glance from Rocky, who surely was blushing now. Having his emotional situation laid out before him by his cousin had nearly undone him. "Well," Rocky cleared his throat, "shall we be making our way back downstairs?"

"I don't see why not."

"Alright then." Rocky quickly made his way past Mordecai and began leading the other two towards the exit and out through it. He seemed a little hurried for whatever reason.

Mordecai obliged as Freckle prodded him with the barrel of the pistol. "Oh, and thank you for the shower; it was well appreciated."

"Oh! Uh, well, no problem! It was the least I could do." He walked with a strange sort of posture.

Mordecai felt the barrel of the pistol prod him in the back again and he looked over his shoulder towards Freckle. "Yes?" Mordecai muttered.

"I know what you're trying to do. Be careful," Freckle warned.

"Of course." Mordecai turned back, beginning down the stairs. He most likely wouldn't be following the little one's advice.

Mordecai was led back through the garage, which was free of bystanders now, and down into the storeroom. He was locked back in and Freckle departed, making himself busy in the café with Ivy. Mordecai set his clothes neatly on the floor, being careful so as to avoid puddles of particularly dirty spots. And Rocky remained, conversing with Mordecai. And to him, it was entirely obvious and certain now that what he'd thought was true. Rocky had developed feelings for Mordecai, however subtle or overt they might be. And that could be an amazingly useful tool to him.