SEARCH AND DESTROY

He exhales through his nose, amused by the turn the conversation’s taken, and leans back on the rickety bench they’ve found beneath the shade, one arm draped lazily over the backrest like he owns it. “First of all,” he begins, tone just on the edge of a sigh, “I’ll have you know the haircut was an attempt to impress someone. Someone very particular.” A pause. A glance. Then, with little to no shame: “Me. Obviously.”

His expression remains unreadable for a moment before a smirk creeps in, lazy and unrepentant. “I was overdue for a midlife crisis moment, and my barber was running a discount.” He gives Kol a slow, knowing once-over. “And if it was for you, I’d at least have the decency to grow it out and lean into the sad-eyed lumberjack aesthetic you clearly appreciate.” His fingers twitch in the air as if pantomiming a beard and flannel ensemble. “But hey, I’ll keep the bunny ears. Everyone’s got a type.”

He lets the teasing settle a second, then cuts it gently with a quieter comment. “Sounds like Juls has good instincts. Knowing when to be sarcastic and when to get out of paint-bomb range? Elite skills. You should be proud.” Then, while feigning sudden realization, he lifts a brow. “Wait—does this mean I’m the mom in this scenario? Because I’m definitely the one not in the mood most of the time.”

The chuckle that follows Kol’s snarky “spontaneous dance circle” line is more full-bodied than usual. “I gave it a solid five seconds of consideration,” Cem admits. “Then a child tried to shove a glitter wand down my shirt and I remembered I like my dignity right where it is.” He shifts in his seat, more comfortable now that the chaos of the festival is at a slight distance, the sounds still audible but blurred around the edges. When Kol presses him again about the target, Cem studies him—eyes narrowing, not mistrustful, just weighing. Kol’s curiosity doesn’t come from idle nosiness, and Cem recognizes that. He always has a sense for when someone’s actually listening.

“Not a spouse,” he answers eventually, voice low enough that it doesn’t carry. “More like… a friend of someone who doesn’t want to get their own hands dirty. Guy’s tied to a local contractor with overseas dealings—shell companies, bad paper trails, the usual.” A brief glance sideways. “Could be political. Could be worse. But right now it’s just whispers. I’m here to confirm if there’s enough smoke to make a fire worth lighting.”

He doesn’t elaborate further, because he doesn’t need to. If Kol’s read the air even halfway well, he’ll already know Cem isn’t hunting small fish. And that Cem trusts him enough to say this much is saying a lot. Then, deadpan: “I didn’t wash the paint off, by the way. I just didn’t let the six-year-old turn me into a Jackson Pollock tribute. Unlike you, who apparently had royal security privileges and a human paint shield.”

The Kingston name mention earns a shrug and a glance that’s equal parts dry and sharp. “Didn’t have to look it up. Small towns talk. Manor like that doesn’t go unnoticed, even if the guy inside it tries to.” Cem doesn’t press into it, but something in his gaze flickers with that quiet understanding again.

He tips his beer toward Kol’s cigarette. “I’m not after your wallet. Just your dignity. Maybe a dive off the pier, maybe a photo of you in full spontaneous dance mode. Something tasteful. For leverage.” Then, softer, “And for the record—I don’t care much about embarrassment either. Makes people real. It’s the polished ones I don’t trust.”

He leans forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees. “So what do you say? You teach me how to look like I belong here, and I promise not to record your graceful swan dive. Unless it’s really cinematic.” The smirk returns, slow and sure. “And if it is… well. Art should be shared.”

They were reminders of what he was missing, of what had been taken from him, and forced a father to worry about the wellbeing of his child and unable to resolve it. He missed Gabby every second of every day of every year that she'd been stolen from him. There was a guilty feeling in carrying on while she was out there going through things he didn't know and had yet to be able to save her from.

"Did it work?" After an exhale of smoke, he turned his head back to glance at Cem. The flicker of amusement was in his eyes but failed to change his expression. "Did you take you out and have a nice time?" For a moment his eyes shifted upward, and took in the haircut once more. "Midlife crisis is usually running for a Porsche, not a discounted chop," a single chuckle pops up. "Jesus... are you midlife already? You look great for your age, man." Sad-eyed lumberjack. That comment stilled him for a fraction of a second because he was considering it. "So, I don't trim the beard one day and suddenly I'm in plaid and carrying an axe around," he mused. "It's ok to say brooding, by the way."

The relationship with Juls was tough. For him, not her. She was currently the same age Gabby was when she was taken. Sometimes he got lost in the little girl's company, parts of his heart imagining that this is what it could've been like, while the rest of him just longed for it to be real. "I'm absolutely proud. I just had no idea I'd rubbed off on her that much." Sometimes it was humbling to realize the effect one possibly had on another. "You could be the mom," Kol says without missing a beat, though there's a quick sideways glance while his fingers flick some ash, "you've definitely got the vibe and the soccer mom cut. Since I'm guess you don't have the Porsche you're likely rolling in the mini van as well."

A shake of his head conveyed that Cem had it all wrong, but before he could verbalize that, Kol took another drag off his cigarette. "There's no such thing as dignity when you have kids." Without realizing it, he revealed something he kept very close to the chest. Mentioning having kids and being without one brought on a lot of questions that Kol never wanted to engage in. Perhaps the slip said much to the comfort he clearly felt in company.

Under the scrutiny of Cem's constantly surveying gaze, Kol didn't falter or flinch. He was steady as ever and completely unshaken. When Cem did begin sharing in his usual cryptic manner of speaking, he listened. Not for anything more or less than genuinely being interested. Knowing the man beside him was an investigator and knowing the level of jobs he took had been something he was measuring. Because he really couldn't give a fuck what some politico or possible mobster was up to, his research was for his own purposes.

"Are those the types of cases you take on, or are you more broad in that as long as the customer is willing to pay." As Cem seemed to know, the Kingston pockets were deep. In fact, the wealth stretched back to old New England money. "If you're willing to track something as far as overseas then going as far as, say... California, wouldn't be something to balk at." Then, and mostly to cover his tracks, Kol made a joke to be sure everything was taken in an unserious manner. "You actually work for the CIA or some shit? I've had a lot of defense contracts and you definitely seem the type. Who woulda thought, a Spook in Briar Ridge."

Kol pulled a face, his head lolled back and forth from side to side. "A Pollack... some of those catch steep prices. Who are you to deny a young, budding artist?" Then he shrugged with the confidence of a man that had made it through the gauntlet unscathed. "It helps to know people in high places. That's all I can say."

The comment of the guy that tries to go unnoticed Kol lets pass him by, mostly because he caught that shine of understanding in Cem's gaze. He seemed to understand without given the information or the reason that sometimes people walled themselves away for a good damn reason.

"There's not much dignity there either," he mused. When there was nothing to lose then things didn't have the same effect anymore. A person couldn't embarrass, shame, or kill Kol's reputation because nothing mattered after losing Gabby. And there wasn't a thing he wouldn't do to get her back. "So, best of luck in reaching for that," he mimed clinking his cigarette against Cem's beer. "You're right in that. The polished people aren't honest. You can't trust someone that worries more about an image than being real." The man beside him kept proving he had the instincts Kol needed.

"Ok, well," he spoke between an inhale and exhale, "you can start by taking that jacket off." Then Kol gestured to the pocket he saw the outline of Cem's phone in, "and you'll have to be fast with that. Hurling comes without warning."

"Okay, yes, symmetrical was supposed to be a compliment," she said with a half-smile, rolling her eyes at herself. "I know it sounded weird. I was just trying to... not sound creepy, which, clearly, backfired. You should definitely take it as a compliment, though. Especially coming from someone who spends most of her day surrounded by flowers and has very strong opinions about balance and beauty."

She shifted her weight, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "But honestly? I’ve seen a lot of faces. Yours just sort of… sticks. You’ve got that broody, tortured-artist thing going on, which is very unfair, by the way."

Her voice dropped a little as she looked up at him again. "And for the record, I wasn't staring in like a serial killer way. More like... I’m tipsy and you’re hot, and I’m doing my best not to say something stupid. How am I doing?"

"Ah," a light chuckle bubbled up, he'd only been teasing, but enlightenment had colored his features. "I was beginning to think maybe you were an artist, and... it didn't backfire, I think I'm just not too great at talking to people anymore. You must work at Garden of Eden, then?" Perhaps fishing for information. "Or your landscaping is in Better Homes and Gardens every year. Either way, how strong of opinions are we talking?"

For a moment Kol just looked at her appreciatively, not in a lascivious way, his eyes took in her features and her stature. He was wondering who she was. "Thank you for not simply saying I'm handsome. Have you ever thought of taking up writing?" Kol's head lolled to the side a bit and the slight smile he'd had slowly faded, then his voice rasped with something more serious. "Trust me, you don't wanna know what makes a man broody and tortured. There's nothing romantic about it."

So intrigued by her, not just by her beauty, just her in general, the colored amusement began to seep back in. Thank god for alcohol. "What's the serial killer stare and how do you know it?" A faint smirk. "You've not said a damn thing that's stupid so you're doing pretty good I'd say. You haven't told me your name, and... I'd like to know it, if that's alright. I'm not tipsy but you are very beautiful."

Wes let out a low snort, water swirling around his chest as he gave Kol a side-eye. "Puppy dog? You wish. You practically begged me to come in with you." He leaned back a little, then, letting the water buoy him up as Kol threw out the breaker suggestion, igniting a chuckle from him. "Tempered?" Wes repeated, mock-offended. "I'm preserving my energy for bigger things, my friend. Gotta pick my battles." Besides.. they made it halfway through Photograph before I intervened. That's punishment enough." As Kol looked out over the ocean, Wes caught the flicker of something tight in his friend’s expression, and his own grin faded a little. The dodge didn’t go unnoticed—it never really did with Kol. But instead of pushing, Wes just nodded slowly, taking the offered topic shift in stride. “You rip it up for fun, or did it finally fall apart under the weight of your dramatic pacing?” he asked, tone light again as he turned his body toward him more fully. "Why didn't you call me?" He would've happily come to help.

Shaking her head, Jiya glanced down at her hands before she looked back to Kol. "I'm not really eating much right now, I probably won't get through the plate." She'd gotten better at making sure she ate full meals in New York but stress had always put her off her food, even as much as she tried to push through. "Maybe I should've just gone straight for dessert. I can usually push through something sweet." Anything with a decent amount of sugar was her kryptonite. "Count yourself lucky, I kind of wish I hadn't spoken to him either." She didn't mind talking about him, but talking to her ex seemed to be more of the issue.

Picking up one of the corn sticks as he pushed the plate back to her, she took a small bite of one corner before pushing the plate back over to him. "Honestly, go for it." The only thing she could think she would wolf down right now was some of her mum's home cooking or a cake. "You disagreeing doesn't change the facts, Kol, even if I do appreciate it." Taking another bite of her food, Jiya glanced back out to look at the shoreline, nodding in response. "It's pretty, I can see why they had the place here." Putting the corn rib down to wipe her fingers, Jiya gestured towards the hotel. "The hotel resort but I'm looking into a short term rental or something. Things here aren't as quick as I expected and I can't keep paying for a hotel." Even if she was loving freshly made sheets everyday. "My boss also said that the hospital in Charleston need a temp cover so I'm going to start some hours there and I'd rather have my own place for that, I think. Who knows, maybe we'll be neighbours."

A look of concern and care flashed in his blue eyes when he'd turned his gaze to Jiya. Learning that she was having trouble eating, that the stress had been getting to her that much, something he was personally experienced with, left Kol hoping she wasn't headed down a similar path as his own. "Alright, how about we split the plate then?" If possible he wanted to be sure she got as much in as she could stomach. "I could grab something sweet real quick if you want," he offered. Genuinely, Kol truly hated to see other people suffering. Knowing what it was to walk through pain constantly made him more empathetic than he'd ever been. With his brow raised a little, "what happened when you two talked?"

It was tough for Kol to understand what had happened between Jiya and Alex, and he certainly didn't know all of the details, because he would've done anything and everything to still be with his ex-wife. Even with the tragedy that had pulled them apart, he'd never wanted them to end up like this. Kol took another rib of the corn when she pushed the plate back to him. "I disagree because I just don't understand. It's not for me to, I know that, but I hate it." He did wonder what brought her down this way, if it was to work something out or resolve something with Alex. Maybe it was a cruel trick of the universe? "Would be nice if we were neighbors," he cracked a bit of a smile then stuck the tip of his thumb in his mouth before reaching for a his napkin. "But you'd probably hate me up at all hours. Last week when I couldn't sleep I tore up my back deck." He considered her for a moment, thought of offering his home to her as there was plenty of room, but something made him refrain. A sense from Jiya but also the knowledge that he wasn't the best person to be around. "There's a ton of rentals so you'll find something easily. Let me know if you need help. Working at the hospital has to be good, right? Keeps you busy and doing something. Idleness is where it all gets really bad."

location: golden hour beach bar

Reconnecting with someone from the engineering world had been jarring for Raj at first. Overtime, Raj found a sort of comfort in befriending Kol. The other tended to push the man to take more chances. Their friendship had been unexpected to Raj, considering his new roles in life, but it was one that he knew was worth having. "I'm glad summer is upon us," Raj chuckled, "or rather, me." Having the summers off had not been something Raj got used to rather easily but after a few years of teaching, he welcomed them with open arms. "I'm thinking of picking up a new hobby this summer, but I'm not sure what." Raj continued, thinning his lips in his thought. "You got anything new you have been trying out lately?"

Kol's comment about loving her sass earned him a warm glance, Gen's features softening momentarily. It was always nice to be in the company of someone who could appreciate all sides of her personality. “Be careful what you wish for, Kingston. You say something like that and you're only asking for trouble," she teased.

Circling back to the candy, Genesis flashed him a sheepish smile, clearly trying to hide what she'd indulged in. “... I may have snagged a few pieces. But in my defence, Juliana was having way too much sugar. I was just… protecting her from a crash. It was an act of love. But now I need some real food. What are you thinking? A burger? Tacos?”

As her eyes travelled around the perimeter of the parking lot, Genesis waited for something to catch her eye. But instead of being lured in by a sign or smell, the sight of her ex-husband already had her distracted. “How do I prefer to be carried?” She shot him playful look, “Well, unless you want me flashing half the vineyard in this dress, it had better be bridal style. Or over-the-shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but that one feels less glamorous."

As she tried to polish and prop that halo of innocence atop her head Kol shot her a look of skepticism. He wasn't buying her martyring herself by falling on the sword. All parents were guilty of it though. "I wonder if Juls sees it as an act of love..." Kol was playing a dangerous game. "A burger sounds good. Especially if we're gonna go get sauced with a bunch of wine."

When her eyes scanned so did his, assuming she was looking for Cameron. But Kol's brow ended up lifting at the mention of her flashing the vineyard. "It's about time something wild happened there, but..." He stopped short before making a selfish comment likely to spur on some trouble. "Alright, so glamorous it is. Although, I kind of like the idea of you as a sack of potatoes," he flashed her a weak smile, "what an image."

After lifting Juliana from his shoulders and setting her little feet on the ground, he bent down and kissed the top of her head as a single arm had wrapped around her in a goodbye hug. "Go give your dad some hell." Kol winked at Gen. "If you take too long I'll start on your food, too."

The wind ruffles the ridiculous bunny ears perched on top his head as he follows Kol’s gaze through the chaos of color and shrieking children. Cem doesn’t miss the wince as it surfaces, or the way Kol’s shoulders seem to tense every time the volume spikes. He makes a mental note (out of habit)—and files it away alongside the rest of what Kol doesn’t say, but still shows.

“Aysa’s seven,” he offers, watching the crowd but not really seeing it. “Which is a wildly confident age for someone who still thinks the moon follows her wherever she walks.” There's the hint of a smile there, but softer. “She’s sharp, though. Brutal in the best way. Last week she told me my haircut makes me look like I'm trying too hard to impress someone I'm not even dating.”

He rolls his eyes faintly. “She might be right.”

The idea of their favorite kids meeting makes something loosen behind Cem’s ribs. He may not know Juls, has never even seen her, but he nods nonetheless. “I think she’d like that. She doesn’t have a lot of constants, so when one shows up, she latches on fast. If Juliana’s anything like you, then I guess she’s worth the time.”

At Kol’s crack about him “openly stalking someone,” Cem gives a short huff of amusement. “That’s a generous read. Let’s just say surveillance gets a lot more complicated when your only viable cover is pretending to enjoy glitter glue and spontaneous dance circles.”

He offers a small shrug, eyes narrowing briefly in the sun. “The target’s not dangerous, just… connected. Sloppy in all the right ways. Enough that I can get leverage, without them ever noticing me in a pair of ridiculous bunny ears.”

He glances sidelong at Kol just then, catching that smile-that-wasn’t. “For what it’s worth, I think they’d remember you too.”

The moment held for a beat before Kol’s line about whiskey and kids hit, and Cem actually laughs. “Shocked? No. Mildly threatened by your sudden rise in elementary popularity? Maybe.” He shakes his head, not pressing the crack about fatherhood or loss, though the silence around Kol’s words speaks volumes. Cem has spent enough time in the field—and around grief—to recognize when something raw was being polished into a punchline. And, that was definitely the case here.

He let the subject shift naturally however, nodding at the suggestion to find shade. “Thank god. I’ve been sweating like a fugitive.” He moves in step beside Kol, following the path off the pier toward where a few beach cabanas and faded umbrellas offer vague promises of shade and relief.

At the line—you can have me as long as you want me—Cem tilts his head slightly, catching the weight under his casual delivery. He doesn’t make it a thing, doesn’t even lock eyes or get weird about it. Just bumps his shoulder lightly against Kol’s, like uttering a quiet same here.

“I’ll take you up on that,” he says, voice lower now that they are away from all the shrieking and paint bombing. “No rush, no pitch. Just two guys with questionable fashion choices and a shared need to disappear for a bit.”

He pauses, then turns just enough to flash Kol a look that is all crooked smirk and no pressure. “Besides, I’ve got questions. Like how you managed to survive that face-paint gauntlet back there without getting tagged once.”

A beat. “And whether you’re actually serious about that dive. ‘Cause if you are, I should probably film it. For blackmail. Or art.”

"I hate to break it to you but... she's right about the haircut," Kol commented, the tease not apparent in his dry tone nor a possible smile on his face. His blue eyes do reach up and give the coiffure a brief examination. Even under the protection of the bunny ears the truth was apparent. "Kids are brutal in their honesty sometimes and it sounds like she was trying to sus something out..."

Which, to get off the topic of children, he attempted to lean in that direction of the conversation. "Who are you trying to impress with that?" A moment later, yet still close enough to join the inquiries together, "it's not me, is it?" The joke was in the fact that Kol already outed that the cut didn't suit Cem.

Thoughts of something Gen had shared with him earlier surfaced at the mention of Juliana being anything like him, and a guilty slightly smirking face turned to Cem. "Apparently she's picked up on my sarcasm and now fires it off at will. Especially at times her mother is not in the mood for it." He shrugged like eh, what can you do? and a bit of pride slipped onto his expression. "Her mother's pretty damn sassy though so I'm not entirely sure that's my influence." Hand to chest, Kol made an attempt to claim his innocence.

Then, as though he hadn't just tried to alleviate responsibility, Kol fired off, "so we're not going to dance in a spontaneous circle then?" The look he cast at Cem was equal amounts disappointment and skepticism. As though he was figuring if he was being toyed with. It actually humored Kol a bit that Cem had denied the openly stalking comment, because it continued to sound only like that exactly. "You're welcome," he pointed up to the bunny ears that marked Cem the master of disguise, apparently.

"Interesting," Kol mused a minute or two later. Unfortunately, with alcohol, sun, and overstimulation by way of screaming children his brain wasn't firing as quick. "So, who's the target and why?" He'd learned enough that Cem was an investigator and that sparked something in him while he accepted being used for cover. "Cheating spouse, or... connected, you said?" Blue eyes narrowed, a mystery trying to be solved behind them. "Political?"

There was something that said he could possibly be of help. Not only did he have a lot of connections, most or many of them were government or adjacent. A lot of his work was military, or higher, contracts. But he wouldn't say any of this aloud. Just as well with Cem doing his cloak and dagger.

As they stalked off, Kol yet again letting any conversation surrounding children die off with his heavy silence, he glanced at his companion following the easy shoulder knock. In just a pair of shorts, he gestured at himself, "hard to call this a fashion choice." They would allow him to wade into the ocean later when the sun dipped a bit further in the horizon, so he could salt the day away. "But I'm glad you noticed," the faint tease had returned. Maybe Kol just liked that no matter what he said or didn't Cem remained just as flat as himself.

They were finally hitting the shade but Kol's feet continued to carry him closer to the trees. He glanced at Cem and actually had something akin to a chuckle make noise in his throat. "I was under the protection of Juls but I also walked the long way around. You've got a nice fresh face yourself there, Cem. Did you commit the ultimate sin and wash it off?"

Blackmail had his head turning again and blue eyes lingering on the fully clothed investigator. "You didn't look up the Kingston name did you?" The tone had a light tease to it. Anyone who'd been in the town long enough or had been by The Kingston Manor knew the wealth his family had. No amount of money had brought Gabby back, though. "I don't care about embarrassment so of course you're after my wallet." Before he could get into much more, Kol lit up a cigarette.

At his admission that he was alright, Tanvi's tense shoulders visibly relaxed, glad to know she hadn't done any actual harm to the man she'd seemingly bulldozed in to. She wasn't one who normally got so lost in her thoughts she didn't notice her surroundings- in fact, she was usually so aware of her surroundings that she noticed things others often missed. But thoughts of her sister, memories of the past, and the weight that still felt rested atop her shoulders had a way of pulling her focus.

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright." She nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically. "Just got lost in thought for a minute." She paused, her gaze shifting to the lanterns beginning to light up the sky behind him, before she spoke again, her voice softer. "Memories have a way of seizing your focus sometimes, you know?" Her voice trailed off, the memories pulling her back in once more, threatening to pull her under, but she was able to bring her focus back to the stranger in front of her and plaster on a smile while taking a shuddering breath. "Anyways, you gonna go light a lantern or are you playing spectator like me?" Now that her plans were derailed she was going to allow them to stay off the tracks. Instead she'd watch from the sidelines and munch on the chocolate bunny she'd stolen from the basket decorating earlier in the day.

When Kol was certain the tall brunette was steady on her feet his hand retreated from her grasp. Human contact, while welcomed and very much needed, was a little strange for him. Emotionally in a dark abyss with the weight grief and guilt he no longer knew how to let someone care for him. Not when he was so hellbent on punishing himself.

"Happens to me all the time." His drink was lifted as a gesture of solidarity. It was just some cold arnold palmer sans the twist but was doing the trick of keeping him hydrated and refreshed while being under the glaring spring sun. "Yeah, I know," a frown had shown itself then and his solemnity returned, "a little more often for me than sometimes."

There was a slight pull from his cheek, twisting his lips just slightly to one side as though a physical manifestation of being seized by memory had gripped him. It certainly had and Kol's frown shifted slightly as he squinted into the horizon. "Nah, I just came to check things out. Wasting some time I guess." Thick shoulders shrugged. "I'm all outta hope and I'll be honest..." His hand motioned to the people fiddling with their lanterns. "It's all bullshit anyway."

After waiting for offense or an argument, Kol added, "why only a spectator?"

Genesis let out a light chuckle at Kol's mock offence, her hand brushing against his arm again as they walked. “Exploit is such a strong word. I prefer ‘strategic marketing.’” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she glanced up at him, then allowed her gaze to shift back toward the path ahead. “And for the record, I’d only take a fifteen percent cut. Maybe twenty if I can convince you to start doing calendar shoots.”

It was nice to spend time with someone who understood her sense of humour. Kol accepted all of her. From the fun parts to all of the messy ones. Maybe that’s why being around him felt more restful than draining, even in a place as loud and chaotic as this.

“Extra sassy,” the brunette confirmed with a nod. “She catches onto your sarcasm and gets this little glint in her eye, like she’s about to hustle me. Last time, she told me bedtime was a ‘negotiation.’” She laughed aloud. “Pretty sure you've created a monster.”

At his next comment, the woman couldn't help but smirk. While she had learned to reign it in over the years, her friend was more than familiar with every level of her personality. “You know I reserve all of my sass for the few select individuals who can handle it. Luckily, you're on that very exclusive list. Though, if you buy me a glass, I might just let my sass peak at medium for day”

A genuine smile slipped onto his face as Gen spoke of his influence on Juliana. It didn't dull or diminish the persistent ache in his chest but the pair of them had made it known to Kol that there was room for other things to bloom. "I've never been so proud," he claimed, the sentiment evident in his tone. Looking up at Juls over his head as best as he could while she rode on his shoulders, he told her, "that's my girl." And winked at her. When his attention flashed back to Gen the mischief had already settled into his features. "I'm failing to see any problems with any of that."

Thankfully the day was relaxed and they moved through the crowds with ease. The strength of the smells coming from the food truck area was indication of how close they were getting. Only then did he realize just how much he could use a bite to eat. "I'll buy you a glass," something playful edged on his expression, "maybe even a whole bottle. You're only gonna get encouragement from me when it comes to the sass..." A beat later, maybe a little softer, a slight glance her way, "I love it." Kol was someone that enjoyed people at their truest.

Brow raised at the sound that had just unleashed from her gut, Kol's gaze flashed south to her stomach for a brief moment and he couldn't help teasing. "I hear ya. Let's load up." While he hadn't exactly stuck around and watched the children do their thing with the egg hunt, he was pleased to gather that it was a good time. "Be honest, Gen... how much of the kid's candy did you steal for yourself?"

There was a pause as he just looked at her, suggestion in full force that they get drunk... "How do you prefer to be carried?"

Huffing out a laugh at his friend's comeback, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he shook his head and glanced out at the ocean. "Alright, fine," Wes said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You got me. I'm here for you. I couldn't resist that six pack and your tragic need for my attention." He sank a little lower into the water, the cold making him wince, but with mid-Spring still hanging around, there wasn’t much he could expect. He couldn't help but wish it was warmer, but the coolness felt good in a way. By the time Kol resurfaced and asked about The Spur, Wes shrugged. "You can renovate the hell out of that place but.. it's still the Spur. Someone came in last week trying to karaoke Nickelback." He shuddered at the memory, grimacing. "Didn’t end well." Wes glanced over at Kol now, eyes squinting against the sun. "How 'bout you? How've you been?"