Another meeting about that damned carwash. He stifles a yawn with the back of his fisted hand and sits up straighter. He lowers his eyebrows and looks from Skyler to Walt and back. He is always looking from Skyler to Walt and then back. He lets his heavy gaze loiter on her. And it is the criminal intent kind of loitering and no, he isn't able to give a simple explanation for this behavior.
Neither one of them is paying a bit of attention to him. He's there as arbitrator or parent or high school principal. Actually he has no idea why he's there or rather why they're here. Apparently Skyler has closed the deal with Bogdan earlier that day. Right now though it's after hours, the waiting room empty save his buxomly Girl Friday who is really not in the mood to bail him out with their usual coded bail-out methods. He can almost smell her stewing from behind his closed office door. He cocks his head and considers getting up and walking out the door, leaning against Francesca's desk; something in the idea of pressing ham on her pristine polished desktop trills a shiver down the long length of his spine and he lets his eyes flutter shut for the barest moment before he realizes the room has filled with the sound of silence. Damn, he mutters under his breath and cracks one eye open, then the other. They are both looking at him.
He nods, a tight smile, jazz hands. "Have you two considered marriage counseling? No, wait, don't answer that, I am your marriage counselor. Right? Am I right? Okay, so where were you? All solved now, didja work it out? Smiles and forced politeness from here on out?"
Skyler's eyes narrow dangerously and he turns his full attention on her. The long legs crossed at the knee, her skirt riding up just enough to tease but not enough to tantalize. He lets his hot gaze run from that juncture up and over her own ample bosoms and then to her face. Her eyes shoot daggers at him and he literally cannot stop the cocky grin he quick draws, a slight lifting of his shoulders and he sees her recognize the male animal in him and forgive him for ogling her. Slightly.
He gestures with waving fingers at a space around his ear and says, "You did something with your hair."
Her face registers surprise, then delighted surprise, and he chits off a mark on his internal scoreboard. "Winning!" he thinks triumphantly to himself. She has done something to her hair and he has noticed. Can't help but notice really. He probably would know if she had a hang nail, too. He notices her. "I like it." He points a quick finger at her, winking. "Stay beautiful, beautiful."
He watches her fight the compliment, watches her swallow with lips pursed, the smooth flesh of her throat contracting around the bile of revulsion rising in her throat. He just has that kind of effect on her and that's another chit on the Saul versus Skyler scorecard. But then, without warning, she flashes her 120 volts at him and its as though her smile is connected right to his heart and he feels that muscle jump the slightest bit zapped by all that wattage. And she laps him. And that's okay, too - if she's out in front of him, teeth bared at the artificial hare - view's good from back here.
Walt is looking at his wife as though she has just pulled a paper bag off her head, trying to see, actually see her. "Did you…" Walt begins and Skyler waves him quiet impatiently.
"So," she unfolds her achingly long legs and leans forward, towards him, towards the desk, the tiniest bit. "Escrow?"
"Escrow!" He gets it now, is able to put all the last ten minutes worth of half-heard, mostly-ignored murmured words and sentences into a semblance of sensical order. He stands, relieved. He actually needs to have Walt's wife leave his office. Like yesterday. "Yes. You'll be getting a phone call tomorrow. Don't miss it. Don't miss the appointment that the phone caller is going to set. Get the papers signed, sealed and delivered. With a kiss even, if you're so inclined. Congratulations." He bows slightly in Walt's direction. "To both of you. Walt, your wife is a brick house, I mean a power house. She's a keeper. Here we go, then." He throws the door open with a flourish and ushers them out. "Look at that sunset wouldja?"
And they're gone. Walt flustered as per his usual and Skyler throwing a strangely long look back over her shoulder at him. He's won this round and yet she still has him by the short hairs. He turns on a quick heel and returns to his office, looking around, suddenly feeling lost. He walks to the chair where Skyler had been sitting and runs a hand over the still-warm seat. He lowers himself into it, his own long legs falling wide at the knee, pushing himself back into the chair, hands gripping the armrest, chin on his chest. He is in trouble.