Title: Small Talk
Author: Baked Goldfish
Rated: PG-13 (for one naughty word)
Pairing: Leo/Bruno
Disclaimer: Not mine at all. Don't sue me, please.
Spoilers: Slight for Night Five, general S3
Archive: Sure
Summary: Leo and Bruno make small talk. Mindless fluff.

[-----]

Small Talk by Baked Goldfish

"He hasn't slept in how many days?"

"Five."

"He hasn't slept in five days?"

"Yup."

"Five days?"

"You act as if saying it three times'll make him fall to the ground, suddenly asleep," Leo said.

"Yeah, 'cause having this president fall to the ground suddenly is exactly what we want right now," Bruno replied. "Besides, I only said it twice."

Leo leaned back in his chair, and regarded him thoughtfully. "Said what?"

"Five days."

"There, now you've said it three times," Leo said, sitting forward again and getting back to work.

Bruno turned and looked at the door leading to the Oval Office and said, "Well, I didn't hear any ominous thumps, so I'll assume that didn't work."

"What did you want, anyway?"

"What, I can't just come in here to make small talk?" Bruno asked, sounding half-offended.

"Not when you're on company time," Leo answered.

"Eh." Opening the file he'd been holding for a while and handing a page to Leo, Bruno said, "I don't like the wording of this speech."

Leo glanced over it and asked, "What's wrong with it?"

"It's got no verbs."

"Talk to Sam about that. Is that it?"

"Also, five days?"

"He fell asleep during an national security briefing, if that makes you feel any better," Leo said, glancing at him with a smirk.

"Sure, because when it comes to the safety of my backyard, I'd like to have a Commander in Chief who nods off at all the right times," Bruno murmured, his face as unreadable as ever.

Leo scowled. "You're a sarcastic sonofabitch, you know that?"

"Pot calling the kettle black," Bruno replied. "And stop eyeing me like that."

"Eyeing you like what?" Leo asked, eyeing him quite openly.

"Like you could throw me down and fuck me right now."

"You know, I could throw you down and fuck you right now," Leo mused.

Bruno drew himself up to his full height, squared his shoulders, and gruffly replied, "Yes, you could."

"Know what I'm gonna do instead?"

"What?"

"Throw a pen at your head."

His eyes narrowing slightly, Bruno said, "You wouldn't."

He was rewarded with the sight of an expensive silver pen cartwheeling through the air before it momentarily came into contact with the center of his forehead.

Leo busied himself with looking for another pen while Bruno stared down at the pen that fell from his head to his hands. "That kinda hurt," Bruno said.

"Not really though, right?"

"Nah."

Finally, Leo looked up, unable to find a pen and quite annoyed about it. "Margaret!"

She darted into the room, wide-eyed and helpful-looking as always. "Yeah?"

"Get me a pen."

Glancing between the two of them, she asked, "What happened to your good pen?"

"I got it," Bruno said, raising it in the air slightly before pocketing it.

Confused, Margaret turned to Leo and asked, "Well, why don't you ask for it back?"

"'Cause I threw it at him," Leo said tartly, as if that were the most obvious reply to an utterly ridiculous question.

Again, she glanced between the two. Her gaze settled on Bruno. "You could've called me in to stop him from throwing it at you. I know how he gets."

He shrugged helplessly. "I couldn't remember your name."

"If the room were on fire, and I was the only one who could help you, you'd be screaming, 'help me, red-haired girl,' wouldn't you?"

"Probably."

She left, shaking her head and muttering something mean and unintelligible under her breath.

"So," Bruno said, turning his attention back to Leo. "Talk to Sam about the thing?"

"Yeah." He handed the page back to Bruno and said, "Why can't you remember her name?"

"I don't know. Margaret was the name of my great aunt's cat."

"Then it should be easy for you to-"

"I hated that cat. And, also, it was a male cat."

"Oh." Leo stared up at him, and said, "You know, I could still throw you on the ground and-"

"Yeah, yeah, but you'd rather throw inanimate objects at my head," Bruno interrupted, nodding. "That's all I had for you. Cranky old geezer."

"You're only six years younger, you hypocrite."

"You know, you look very lovely in suits," Bruno stated.

Leo glanced up and said, "And you look very nice out of suits."

Bruno smirked and shook his head. "I just can't get you to say the word love, can I?"

"Not when we're on company time," Leo replied, shrugging.

"Business driven, hard-ass, no good sonofa-"

"Out, Bruno."

"See you at my place at nine?"

"Out!"

"I'll take that as a yes," Bruno said, walking out into Margaret's office.

Leo rearranged some files on his desk and opened a few drawers before looking up in startled realization.

Jumping up from his chair, he barged out of his office yelling, "Gimme back my pen, ya dirty thief!"

-end-

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