( they could hope for privacy — later in the evening, when everyone in the neighborhood should be asleep and they're in their bed (singular — or on the couches, plural) with the blinds drawn and lights off. but who knows. that may not be enough. there was truth to the remors that surrounded rich, close knit communities, everyone was in everyones business and gossip was a very valuable form of currency. and what was more, they were supposed to be making themselves emotionally avalible; and to nosy neighbors that might mean leaving the blinds open and lights on while they — stiltedly — interacted like a married couple at odds.
speaking of married and at odds, roxy twiddles the ring on her finger. it's expensive and gorgeous and fits her perfectly, but is really little more than a jewel encrusted metrognome as she counts the seconds and carefully calculates how long it is before she follows him. every microexpression and every little twitch is carefully choreographed — from the quiet way she shuts her car door and pulls her sweater a little closer to her body, to the delay before she smiles at eggsy and jb.
they head for the door and she joins the movers to deliver canned directions on how she wanted her furniture handled. they're all various kingsman employees, they know how this is going to go.
but standing out on the lawn for ten minutes proves quite beneficial for their mission, and by the time she joins him in the entryway it's to report — )
I've seen movement in their upstairs window. ( and to theorize openly: ) What sort of baked goods do you think they'll bring us?
( there's only two small windows by the door in the little entryway, and their front door isn't remotely oriented towards richard and petra justice's house. but there's calculation in how intimately familiar and awkardly distant she holds herself in relation to him; like she feels she should be in his personal space but doesn't want to be. )
[It's probably for the best if they both assume that the moments when they'll get to drop character will be few and far between. That way they can prepare themselves for keeping their masks on permanently. This is a big test for both of them, one that they can't fail now that they're no longer trainees. But neither Roxy nor Eggsy has gone undercover for this long before.
JB makes a quick circuit of the first floor of the cozy little home that's going to be theirs for the foreseeable future. There's no furniture in place yet, so the dog has full reign of the place, and is quickly making himself at home. Much more quickly than Eggsy and Roxy will, in any case. But no, he should be thinking of them as Gary and Roxanne. God, he was never fond of his birth name. Still, Gary is better than Chester.
By the time that he and JB have done some exploring (of the backyard as well, which isn't huge but provides more than enough space for a pug) and Eggsy's making his way back to the front door, Roxy's on her way in.
The way she describes it, movement in the upstairs window, is a little too clinical for any normal person with a white picket fence. (This house has one of those. It's ridiculous.) Eggsy makes a note to warn her about it later, when it's safe to do so, and instead focuses on her question.]
Well, we probably shouldn't get our hopes up. They may not be the baking sort.
[Still, given the kind of neighborhood that they're in, he wouldn't be surprised if they did end up with some kind of housewarming gift. This is all so bizarre, a snapshot of a life that Eggsy never had, and he has to fling off that feeling that he doesn't belong here. That someone will see him for what he is and label him an impostor.
That's not going to happen, he tells himself.] Where should we wait while they're moving everything in? I don't want to get in the way.
( this neighborhood seemed like something out of a british version of desperate housewives, and she would be willing to bet doing all of the post mission paperwork that they'd get some sort of baked confection before the week was up.
eggsy mentions them being in the way just as ralph (from vehicle maintence) steps up behind them with a large box, too large to easily squeeze behind them even in the rather spacious entry way. the result is a rather awkward two step that only ends when roxy herds the two of them halfway up the stairs to the second level. )
Want to go complain about the garden? ( they were supposed to be making themselves avalible, weren't they? what better way to do that than be out in the open. )
[Complain about the garden? Eggsy takes a moment to realize what Roxy means, before he remembers that most people this rich usually find something to complain about even when everything looks perfect. It will make sure that they're out of the way of the movers while also putting them in a prime spot to be happened upon by their neighbors, so after a moment of contemplation he nods.]
Let's go.
[They could walk back out in single file, but instead Eggsy forces himself to consider how a couple would act, and he grabs for Roxy's wrist. It's not quite as intimate as looping his arm with hers, but it at least gives some indication that they're romantically involved.
He tugs her back out into the yard and takes a look around, tilting his head from side to side as he sizes it all up. He searches for some imagined flaw.]
I wish there were more posies. [That's a flower, isn't it?] We'll have to plant some, don't you think?
but she rolls with it, physically turning up her nose and staring down at the perfectly acceptable patches of babies breath and out of season rose bushes. )
I think we can hire someone to plant them, ( roxy contributes, with not quite as much enthusiasm as eggsy'd managed to force, but equal in volume. they stand close, shoulders bumping every so often as they make idle chatter and nitpick about the grass. by the time they've graduated from the yard to the house itself — with half the boxes were unloaded, and roxy loudly declaring she wasn't all that fond of the window trim — they have company.
petra justice is american, and just as loud and friendly as the stereotypes suggest. she's dressed rather professionally and jingling a set of keys, but makes a detour from her car to walk across the grass and say hello. )
Hi there, hi there — are you our new neighbors? Oh, that's just delightful, I was beginning to think that house would never sell.
( where it is customary in london to not introduce yourself to your neighbors until you'd got a five year basis of polite nods in passing established, mrs. justice doesn't really give them much of an option o shaking hands. she rigorously rings eggsy's, then roxy's. her grip is surprisingly strong for a thin little thing in her late 40's, and strangely soft. )
[Right, of course they would hire someone. Eggsy needs to get better at putting himself into the mindset of some puffed-up rich wanker, but it's a stretch for him. He'll work on it.
Even so, their attempts to be offended by the foliage around the house gets the job done eventually, as at least one of their marks comes by to introduce herself. The fact that she's American should open up plenty of interesting conversational topics, but they have to get through the pleasantries first.
If Eggsy's honest, Petra's direct attitude is actually a rather nice change from some of the passive-aggressive crap he's had to endure in his lifetime, but he forces himself to remain the correct level of reserved as befits a high-class Englishman.]
I'm Gary, and this is Roxanne. [He nods to Roxy, doing that annoying thing men do where they speak for their wife rather than allowing her to introduce herself. He gives the room they're in a quick, worried glance and then looks to Petra again.]
Is there something wrong with the house? If it wasn't selling...
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no subject
speaking of married and at odds, roxy twiddles the ring on her finger. it's expensive and gorgeous and fits her perfectly, but is really little more than a jewel encrusted metrognome as she counts the seconds and carefully calculates how long it is before she follows him. every microexpression and every little twitch is carefully choreographed — from the quiet way she shuts her car door and pulls her sweater a little closer to her body, to the delay before she smiles at eggsy and jb.
they head for the door and she joins the movers to deliver canned directions on how she wanted her furniture handled. they're all various kingsman employees, they know how this is going to go.
but standing out on the lawn for ten minutes proves quite beneficial for their mission, and by the time she joins him in the entryway it's to report — )
I've seen movement in their upstairs window. ( and to theorize openly: ) What sort of baked goods do you think they'll bring us?
( there's only two small windows by the door in the little entryway, and their front door isn't remotely oriented towards richard and petra justice's house. but there's calculation in how intimately familiar and awkardly distant she holds herself in relation to him; like she feels she should be in his personal space but doesn't want to be. )
no subject
JB makes a quick circuit of the first floor of the cozy little home that's going to be theirs for the foreseeable future. There's no furniture in place yet, so the dog has full reign of the place, and is quickly making himself at home. Much more quickly than Eggsy and Roxy will, in any case. But no, he should be thinking of them as Gary and Roxanne. God, he was never fond of his birth name. Still, Gary is better than Chester.
By the time that he and JB have done some exploring (of the backyard as well, which isn't huge but provides more than enough space for a pug) and Eggsy's making his way back to the front door, Roxy's on her way in.
The way she describes it, movement in the upstairs window, is a little too clinical for any normal person with a white picket fence. (This house has one of those. It's ridiculous.) Eggsy makes a note to warn her about it later, when it's safe to do so, and instead focuses on her question.]
Well, we probably shouldn't get our hopes up. They may not be the baking sort.
[Still, given the kind of neighborhood that they're in, he wouldn't be surprised if they did end up with some kind of housewarming gift. This is all so bizarre, a snapshot of a life that Eggsy never had, and he has to fling off that feeling that he doesn't belong here. That someone will see him for what he is and label him an impostor.
That's not going to happen, he tells himself.] Where should we wait while they're moving everything in? I don't want to get in the way.
no subject
eggsy mentions them being in the way just as ralph (from vehicle maintence) steps up behind them with a large box, too large to easily squeeze behind them even in the rather spacious entry way. the result is a rather awkward two step that only ends when roxy herds the two of them halfway up the stairs to the second level. )
Want to go complain about the garden? ( they were supposed to be making themselves avalible, weren't they? what better way to do that than be out in the open. )
no subject
Let's go.
[They could walk back out in single file, but instead Eggsy forces himself to consider how a couple would act, and he grabs for Roxy's wrist. It's not quite as intimate as looping his arm with hers, but it at least gives some indication that they're romantically involved.
He tugs her back out into the yard and takes a look around, tilting his head from side to side as he sizes it all up. He searches for some imagined flaw.]
I wish there were more posies. [That's a flower, isn't it?] We'll have to plant some, don't you think?
no subject
but she rolls with it, physically turning up her nose and staring down at the perfectly acceptable patches of babies breath and out of season rose bushes. )
I think we can hire someone to plant them, ( roxy contributes, with not quite as much enthusiasm as eggsy'd managed to force, but equal in volume. they stand close, shoulders bumping every so often as they make idle chatter and nitpick about the grass. by the time they've graduated from the yard to the house itself — with half the boxes were unloaded, and roxy loudly declaring she wasn't all that fond of the window trim — they have company.
petra justice is american, and just as loud and friendly as the stereotypes suggest. she's dressed rather professionally and jingling a set of keys, but makes a detour from her car to walk across the grass and say hello. )
Hi there, hi there — are you our new neighbors? Oh, that's just delightful, I was beginning to think that house would never sell.
( where it is customary in london to not introduce yourself to your neighbors until you'd got a five year basis of polite nods in passing established, mrs. justice doesn't really give them much of an option o shaking hands. she rigorously rings eggsy's, then roxy's. her grip is surprisingly strong for a thin little thing in her late 40's, and strangely soft. )
I'm Petra. What are your names?
no subject
Even so, their attempts to be offended by the foliage around the house gets the job done eventually, as at least one of their marks comes by to introduce herself. The fact that she's American should open up plenty of interesting conversational topics, but they have to get through the pleasantries first.
If Eggsy's honest, Petra's direct attitude is actually a rather nice change from some of the passive-aggressive crap he's had to endure in his lifetime, but he forces himself to remain the correct level of reserved as befits a high-class Englishman.]
I'm Gary, and this is Roxanne. [He nods to Roxy, doing that annoying thing men do where they speak for their wife rather than allowing her to introduce herself. He gives the room they're in a quick, worried glance and then looks to Petra again.]
Is there something wrong with the house? If it wasn't selling...