Dylan tapped her pen against the newspaper, glancing at the flats that were being advertised as up for sale. “No, no and no way in hell.” She mumbled to her self, drawing a line through three of the advertisements.
“I'll never change, but I'll never stay the same either.”
Oliver hadn’t meant any harm, just trying to tease a little, bring some of the lightness back into their relationship so when she narrowed her eyes and nearly seethed, he frowned. Furrowing his brows he took a step back, arms up in surrender. “Sorry, yeah? Just teasing is all.” He debated even asking her what was the matter, or just offering to help with her car, but just like before, curiosity killed (and she actually might kill him) the cat.
"What’s going on?"
"Car troubles." Dylan huffed, of course there was more than just that on her mind that was troubling her. But she couldn’t share any of that with him, nor did she want to. Dylan was a private person, that was the one thing that remained the same about her during her time here.
"Dylan then. Did not expect to see you back for a long time, I assume you have been well."
"Five by five."
George was perhaps a touch surprised to see who was flying under his radar. He had not known that the thief was back.
Well, fuck. If there was one person Dylan didn’t want to see more than any of the lost boy’s, it ws her former drug lord of a boss. Sure he had let her walk away easy enough, but she had lead him to the impression that it would be a long time before her face darkened his doorway again.
"Dylan, please. I hate formal titles."
Watching her — and the car — he was smirking, wondering if he should try and help now or leave her to stew in her juices for a bit, thinking she might not really want his help considering how hesitant she was to laugh with him before. Oliver gave into his need to help, smirk flowing into a grin as he whistled at the beautiful machinery behind her. “S’the matter, Dove, can’t figure out how to get out of first gear?”
Dylan glared, not knowing what she found more irritating between the pet name he had just given her and by assuming she knew next to nothing about cars. Maybe if she wasn’t so wound up she wouldn’t have let it bother her, maybe she would have shrugged it off and simply rolled her eyes at him.
That wasn’t the case now though.
"Don’t call me Dove." Dylan warned, still narrowing her eyes on him for his previous two remarks. "I’m really not in the mood, Oliver."
Dylan’s growing frustrations were beginning to take their toll on her, a thumping in her head told her as much. She still needed to take her car to get looked at, but a garage was out of the question considering it was stolen and she still had that small matter of giving Smee the information he had requested before she had left. The latter was the hardest of the two, waiting for his call was growing tiresome but what else could she do? It’s not like she could just walk right on through the front door of the cinema.
"Then make another and go back out again."
The Lost Boys never took kindly to people who walked away, not after all of the involuntary losses that they had withstood, and Nibs was a Lost Boy through and through. Besides, he didn’t take well to abandonment no matter what the circumstances were, especially not when not so much as one goodbye was spared.
"Believe me, I would love more than nothing to get out of everyone’s hair but I can’t, at least not yet."
Dylan hated this; being back here, seeing him, not being able to talk to him like she had been able to before. It made her stomach twist and turn, they had been friends once, partners even and now it was like they weren’t anything to each other. It was like they hadn’t been through the basement together, they’d survived hell together and now there was an air of awkwardness and tension ready to crackle and explode.
Nibs had been casing the houses on the street, figuring out which would be the easiest and the quickest jobs for a time when it wasn’t bright daylight. Because of the summer most of them would be vacant or at least would be soon when their owners left for greener pastures- though what could be greener than this, he wasn’t sure. But at the sight of a familiar brunette, Nibs stopped and redirected his attention.
"Weren’t you supposed to be long gone by now?" Nibs’ voice remained steady, though there was anger laced through his words.
Shit, shit and double shit!
Dylan couldn’t be certain for sure, but in that moment she could have sworn that her face betrayed the commands her brain was screaming at her and held the expression of a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. She wanted to run, it wasn’t her only option of course but it was her default. Her legs refused to move though, no matter how hard she begged them they remained rooted to the porch of the house.
"I had to make a U turn and come back." She sighed and dipped her lead, looking downcast and letting a few strands of still damp, brunette hair cover her face.