"Persistently obvious," Dan ruled, absent-minded because Jason apparently had that power about him. "Then again, Mr Bond wasn't any better..."
"Yeah, Bond got by mostly on luck, gadgets, and convenient women." Jason grinned, "I mean, every woman who falls in love with him end up being part of the key plot point somehow. It's a good thing I never want to be like Bond."
Dan smirked, playing his game because he had nothing to lose. "Or every man you'd meet would be a plot point who dies before the final half hour? Probably right, you'd end up feeling very lonely."
"Lonely and probably dead before any sequels, unlike Bond, I don't think gadgets would get me very far. They'd have to replace me with a taller, hunkier model."
"That'd be a waste," Dan mused with a pout. "You could always play M and stay behind the barricades. Let some other poor fool risk his life for Queen and country."
"You'd be the guy who can hack into every computer in the world, you know, if you don't already do that." Jason teased, "Seriously, your computer room looks like a command center."
"I don't..." Okay, that would've been a lie. He'd tried. Succeeded once or twice. The hand on the back of Jason's neck rubbed circles into the skin. "TV makes it look a lot more glamorous than it is."
"Mmm, so I was right, I bet it really is that glamorous but if you told me the details you'd have to kill me," Jason mumured, relaxing further in the other man's embrace. "Secret agent tech support looks like it pays well. Did you get to go to boot camp, or is that only a field agent thing?"
"I went to a boot camp," Dan teased. "But not for this. This came as a hobby." Naturally. And he didn't try to fight it. Like the gay thing. That was how he'd explained it to Joel, at least. "Besides, I'd be pretty bored without a computer."
"Ah, so you used to be a soldier?" Jason asked, not sounding surprised by the thought. He had suspected Dan was. "Why would you be bored without your computer? Do you have to stay in and work that much?"
"What else do former soldiers do?" Dan snorted. "And don't say go to meetings and conferences because that's not my thing. I have to fill up the days and oddly enough, mocking out government is a full time job."
"Does that ever get boring? Well, I guess you've got Hitchcock movies and a personal violinist to entertain you if you get sick of your computer." Jason said with a faint nod.
"Right, I'll just make you my personal home entertainment system," Dan retorted, mirroring his nod. "You're really good, by the way. In case I forgot to mention earlier. With the violin. You're really good."
I used to play better,a lot better, but I used to play a few hours every day back then too," Jason smiled at the compliment, but still shook his head. "It's easier to play for just one person too, in crowds I have a bad habit of choking and make mistakes."
Dan grinned. "Stage fright? Somehow, you don't seem like the type. Too obviously persistent. You'd probably stand there and repeat and repeat and repeat the same movement until it's perfect." He was projecting a vision of Jason onto the man and while there were cracks in his profile, it wasn't all wrong. "Or until the conductor kicks you off. Whichever."
"Hey, sounds like you were at my last performance." Jason laughed softly, "I'm not the twin who handles crowds. Small groups are okay, but get a full auditorium and a spotlight and...way too much for me. I start worrying too much about screwing up that I do."
"That's okay, we'll lock you in my apartment and have you play for groups of one from now on. Then in a few years you can escape and write an autobiography and make millions. It's the perfect plan. You'll just have to survive on Hitchcock and home-made fries and beer for a little while."