Rebirth
by. Poisoned Scarlet

Survival required living by the gun, the sword, and – often times – luck.

"Damn. He came all the way out here to die for his friends."

"Yeah, what a devoted dude."

They both stood near the ledge of a rooftop, heartlessly gazing down at the sprawled body of a nameless man. His arm was bent at an awkward angle, face down to never inhale the dusty ally floor again. Blood had begun to pool where his skull cracked open upon impact. But there was no sympathy for him: he was simply another number in their book.

"He shoulda' known better than to get involved with this damn city."

"Yeah." The other man agreed, lighting up a cigarette. "Aye, don't do that again. You made me nervous when you didn't take care of him right away." He drew in a breath, pausing. "Nobody'll care that we didn't use guns or knives, right?"

"Gun's are disgusting." His friend sneered. "They're the lowliest weapon you can use to kill somebody. I'd rather use some everyday object – or nothing at all." He smirked. "If you have'ta kill somebody... doin' it in the most natural way possible is the safest way. That way it looks accidental."

"Tch," his friend scoffed. "Wouldn't hurt to learn how to use a gun, though."

"I guess. I kinda' like how it looks when someone shoots a gun."

"Then I guess this'll be a joy ride for you, huh, Chunky?"

Both males swiveled to face the disembodied voice. One of them automatically reached for his holster while the other took a cautious step back, as a woman sauntered forward with an air of in-consequence. Her jeans rode low on her waist, her coral pink sequence-shirt tight around her chest.

The clack of her boots echoed down the hollow space between them, intimidating and full of menace.

"Who're you, doll-face?" The one with the gun gruffly asked, his black eyes fixed on her silhouette. "Don'cha know what happens to girls who walk around alone at night 'round these parts?"

"Don't you know what happens to dipshits who kill for money?" She deflected, shadowed by the towering buildings surrounding them. She reached behind her and revealed a silver gun to them, the metal glinting under the opaque light of the moon. Her eyes hardened when the man retracted the safety on his own gun; his partner silent but observant.

"What'd'ya want." The man demanded.

"Don't take it personally." She began, stroking the silver gun with her thumb. "Contract killing is for the soulless. But you gotta' do what you gotta' do to put food on the table, right?"

"Gerald..." Chunky warned. A sick feeling had settled in his gut at the mysterious woman's sultry tone.

"I'll handle it." Gerald muttered from the corner of his mouth. His gun was tight in his hand.

She stepped into the light and Gerald's eyes bulged with fear.

"HYAHAHA!" A demented laugh rang from the gun in the woman's hand. "YOU'RE GONNA' DIE NOW, FUCKER! HAHAHA!"

"Shit, run! It's the Thompson Sisters—!"

"Where you goin', Gerald?" BANG.

"NO! GERALD—!"

BANG. BANG.

Liz Thompson blew into the barrel of the silver gun, a cruel grin marring her lovely features. She tossed the gun into the air, Patty Thompson transforming with a giddy grin. Her crystal blue eyes were wide and hazed; drugged from the pills she had taken an hour previous.

"That was fun!" Patty exclaimed. "Let's do it again!"

"Wait a minute, Pat." Liz murmured when a choked scream tore through the sudden silence. "He ain't dead yet."

"F-FUCK!" Chunky wailed, holding his battered leg. "D...d...damn..." He whimpered, digging his blunt nails into his agonized limb. He sucked in a terrified breath when he heard the clack of boots nearing him, and his watery eyes looked up to see Liz gazing down at him coldly.

"'Gun's are disgusting, huh?" She repeated, spitefully. "At least they get the job done, you sack of shit."

"Oooh! I get it! You're so smart, sissy!" Patty squealed, jumping up and down eagerly. "Can I do it? Can I, can I, can I?"

Liz tossed her honey-colored hair over her shoulder and turned away in disinterest. "Go ahead. Don't take too long – we gotta' go pick up our money."

Patty grinned widely and flashed dilated, enormous, blue eyes to the man curled up on the floor. She giggled madly, whispering conspiratorially: "What you said really pissed sissy off if she's lettin' me take care of you," she sang.

"N-no, I'm sorry! Please, don't, please... I-I don't wanna' die! You gotta' understand – I do this to support my kids! Th-this is the only thing I know how to do – please!" He begged, eyes streaming. "Please."

Patty was blank for a moment.

Then she tossed her head back and laughed uproariously.

"Silly boy," Patty cooed. Her crystal eyes held an empty quality to them; as if a fraction of what made her human had been robbed from her. "I don't give a fuck if you're doin' this for your widdle babies. I'm gonna' make you beg for your mommy! HYHAHAHA!"

Liz didn't bat an eye when she heard the tortured screams of that contract killer.

She just continued to file her nails.

Life built upon sin.
This was all just borrowed time.

"Well, well, well." Liz purred. She drew in a deep breath of smoke, her eyes predatorily latching onto the well-dressed boy that strolled down the worst neighborhood Brooklyn had to offer. "What do we have here? Fresh meat."

"Ooh, he looks like a good one, sissy!" Patty stated, excitedly. "Let's get 'em next, yeah?"

Liz nodded, reaching into her back pocket to draw out a pocketknife. "Yeah. C'mon, Pat, let's teach this rich kid not to stray too far from his daddy."

Patty cackled.

They followed him for a whole block before speeding up and, with expert ease, shoved him into an alley and immediately pinned him against the wall.

"What in the world—?" The boy gasped.

"Shut up and listen, kid!" Liz hissed, pressing the knife to his throat.

"What is the meaning of this—? "

"You're gettin' mugged, retard. Now, walk." She dragged him by the sleeve of his blazer down the alley while he complained about the asymmetry of how she was holding him; Patty skipping along right behind them.

"Alright, kid, fess up." Liz demanded once they were down the alley enough, waving her knife idly in front of him. The boy made no sudden movements: he looked quite bored now, actually. It aggravated her.

"If you want money, I have none on me." The boy replied, with a tone of obvious superiority. "You're wasting your time, and mine."

Liz blew a cloud of smoke into his face sneeringly. "Oh, yeah? Well, how about this, huh?" She tapped the tip of her knife against the skull-shaped buckle on his neck. "It can get me enough money for a cheese burger – right, Patty?"

"Uh huh." Patty grinned, coming up behind her sister. "So give it to us NOW, you shithead!" She growled.

"I cannot. This," he touched the skull-shaped buckle on his neck, "was a gift from Honorable Father and is much too valuable to be sold so crudely to a bunch of low-life criminals such as yourselves." He stuck his nose in the air snobbishly.

Liz's stare was glacial. "Stupid, are you? Well, I can fix that – Pat!"

"Hehehe! Now you're gonna' get it, pretty boy!" Patty giggled madly, transforming and landing in her sisters open palm. The boys expression changed, a flicker of surprise that made Liz smirk, before she pressed the barrel of a gun against his temple.

"Change your mind yet?"

"Could it be—? Impossible, yet..."

Liz blinked at his mumbling. "What're you talkin' about, kid?"

"Yeah, what'cha mumbling about?" Patty repeated.

"Could you two be the Thompson Sisters that everyone speaks of?" The boy asked, bluntly. "I must say, you both are quite beautiful. And you're both weapon-types, I assume..."

Liz felt color wash over her face. His sincere way of complimenting them had taken her aback. No one had meant that without the underlying greed for their bodies.

"S-so you've heard of us?" Liz hastily composed herself. "Good! You scared now?"

"No, of course not! In fact, it's the exact opposite! I have been searching for you two! I have a proposition for you!" The boy excitedly said, stunning them both. "My name is Death the Kid, you may call me Kid, and I am in need of a pair of demon weapons – preferably guns, such as yourselves!"

"Wait a second..."

"Your name is actually Kid?" Patty added, in awe. "Wowowowow—!"

"PATTY!" Liz snapped.

"Sowwy. Teehee."

"Okay, what do you want from us, Kid?" Liz demanded, guardedly. He seemed to know more than she liked. "A rich kid like you doesn't walk around these parts for the hell of it."

Kid sobered. "I wish for you two to become my weapons."

Liz stared.

Patty broke the silence with her laugh.

"Pfft – right! Your weapons!" Liz snorted between laughs, holding her stomach. Kid frowned, obviously not anticipating this reaction. "Listen, Kid, find someone else, alright? You don't wanna' get involved with people like us, trust me."

"Yeah, we'll run you over faster than a Care Bear can blow you UP!" Patty sagely said.

Liz coughed but decided not to comment on her sisters incomprehensible logic. She removed her sister from his temple, backing away with disinterest. "Ya' know what? You're not even worth mugging – get outta' here, Kid. The next time I catch you here, I really will kill you. C'mon, Patty."

Patty transformed, waving exaggeratedly at Kid. "Bye, Kid! It was nice meeting you!"

"Don't talk to him!" Liz hissed.

"Teehee! Sowwy!" Patty skipped to her sister, Kid's eyes following them stoically as they disappeared back into the shadows.

He was God – their light, their savior. They just didn't know it yet.

"Damn – damn – damn – damn – !" Liz moaned, as they ran wildly down the dark streets of Brooklyn. Her boots echoed loudly in the deserted streets. For once, she wished she wasn't wearing them, as the noise kept their captors on their tails.

"Sissy – !" Patty panted, clutching the sack that bulged with wads of cash. "What do we – do with this? They're gonna' catch us – and it's too much to cross with – !"

"Don't you dare throw it away, Patty!" Liz warned harshly, casting her a quick side-glance. "I scarified way too much to get my hands on all that money and I ain't gonna' let you ruin it! We're taking it – now, c'mon!"

Patty dropped her gaze but said nothing, hot on her sisters heels.

"Ah!" Patty squeaked, ducking when gunshots rang from behind them. "Sissy!"

Liz swore, braking to a stop. "PATTY!"

"KILL 'EM ALL, SISSY!" Patty screeched right before she transformed into a gun, landing in her sisters blood-stained hands. Liz said nothing: she shut an eye and aimed, shooting to kill and smirking when the driver slumped in his seat lifelessly and the car that had been chasing them jerked and crashed into gated property.

"Yes!" Liz hooted. "Now that's what I call wrangling—EEK!" Liz stumbled back when a bullet skimmed the cement by her feet. "That was way too close for comfort. C'mon, Pat, let's lose these freaks!"

"Go, go, go!" Patty cheered, pumping her fist in the air while Liz sprinted down the sidewalk. Her grip on the sack of money – 90 grand if she remembered – was deathly.

She needed this money to get out of the vicious business of the streets.

The money would mean freedom from the shithole she had called home for the past eighteen years.

It would grant Patty a better life, too.

Liz ground her teeth, ducking down an alley that she knew would lead her to a series of warehouses and storage buildings. Her shadow stretched under the moonlight as she ducked between buildings, slowing her run to a cautious walk. She held Patty up, readying to shoot, and pushed the bag under her arm protectively.

She had spent too many hours creating a strategy for this attack; this betrayal. She spent too many days studiously going over her plan: the procedures they needed to take, the sacrifices that needed to be made. She had given up too much. She could never go back after this.

But she had never intended to.

Liz glanced down at her sister, a gun held in her hand, and looked away when Patty glanced up curiously. Liz felt her eyes sting. The claustrophobic feeling of being trapped, of being caught, wound tightly in her gut.

If she failed, she would not be the only one to take the blow...

"Okay, Patty, listen up!" Liz whispered. "If things get real bad, you take the money and go, okay? Remember what I told you yesterday, about listening to everything your big sister says no matter what? When I say run, you—!"

"Did'ja really think you could get away from us, Elizabeth?" A voice hissed from behind her.

Liz froze, a strangled cry escaping her when someone clutched her throat furiously and slammed her against a wall. Her head cracked against the brick, her hold on her sister loosening as lights exploded behind the lids of her eyes.

"SISSY!" Patty shrieked.

"Don't transform!" Liz gasped, spitting blood when her captor backhanded her. She limped on her side, gasping in lungfuls of air as she tried to collect herself again. "Don't – you dare – transform, Patty! S-sissy will be – UGH!"

"Shuddup, you fuckin' whore." The man sneered, pressing the heel of his shoe into her neck. "Didn't your momma ever teach you not to bite the hand that feeds you?" He snarled, stamping on her neck. Liz cried out as pain blinded her. "Oh, right, forgot. Your slutty mom ditched you two mistakes in a fuckin' trashcan by Broadway!"

"SHUT UP!" Patty shrieked, covering her ears. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP—!"

"Don't you tell me to shut up, you cock-sucking little bitch!" He ferociously spat, abandoning Liz to near the demon gun that lay feet away from her sister. "The only reason you two weren't taken care of earlier was because you were special – Weapon-types."

Liz cried out in outrage when he kicked Patty across the pavement. She crashed against the wall, still a gun, but something vicious had escaped its restraints within Liz. It traveled up her throat, bitter and volatile, and her eyes darkened dangerously the longer that man kicked her precious younger sibling around like trash.

"The Boss liked that, y'know? Not only that, but you two weren't too bad for a couple of fucks. That made your worth skyrocket. But now – oh, now, you're gonna' see what hell looks like—!"

"SIS!" Patty shouted, when Liz came up behind him and caught him around the neck with her elbow.

"What the - ? Lemme' go, you bitch—! "

"You're gonna' pay for that, dickhead." Liz hissed in his ear, tightening her grip around his neck. "Fuck with my sister, you fuck with me—ARGH!" She roared as she snapped his neck, letting his body drop to the floor unceremoniously.

Patty transformed, eyes streaming with tears. She stared at the body, gazing up at the wild spark that lit her sisters eyes like torches. It was burning stare – the eyes of a killer – but the fire washed out soon, leaving behind its smokey remnants.

"Sissy...?" Patty quietly said. "You okay?"

"Yeah... I'm fine. Can't say the same for him, though." Liz picked up the sack of money again. "All this for just a bunch of paper bills, huh?" Liz passively observed the bag in her hand. Freedom was being kept within its scratchy walls. Patty bit her lip, hastily standing up. "This worlds fucked up. Let's go, Patty, before the rest of 'em get here."

"Okies - sissy, look!" Patty suddenly said, pointing ahead.

"Aw, shit! They caught up with us already? Damn it!"

"Hehe, well, we did kinda' take our time!" Patty giggled, glancing at the lifeless body on the floor.

"This isn't a time to be joking around, Pat!" Liz snapped, seizing her hand. "C'mon, let's go!" They ran until Liz spotted a door. She jerked the knob, swearing colorfully when it didn't open, and continued her search.

"Other way – OTHER WAY!" Liz screamed, braking to a stop and turning the other way when she spotted a group of men in the distance. This continued: hoards of men, all bearing arms and smirking grins, standing ominously at the end of streets; of alleys and sidewalks.

It was almost as if—

"Yes!" Liz sighed in relief, when a door to a warehouse twisted under her hand. She pushed Patty inside first, slamming the door closed behind her. Her heart beat thunderously in her chest; blood zinging through her veins with adrenaline. She slumped against the door. "We did it, Pat. We lost 'em."

"Did you, really?" A deeply amused, terrifying familiar, voice drawled from the static darkness of the warehouse they had snuck into.

Liz froze.

The lights turned on, blinding and white, and Liz heard her sister suck in a breath as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

Her mouth dried when she saw a hoard of men, filling up nearly half of the enormous warehouse, equipped with crude weapons such as crow bars and baseball bats. Some held guns, some held knives, some held clearly demonic weapons; types like herself who'd strayed off the divine path Lord Death set up hundreds of years ago.

One man stood before the mass of hungry criminals in his trademark, over-sized, black polo shirt. His silver necklaces shone under the light, extravagant. His pants were also black, sagging on his waist, and clean of any dust or creases. His hair was gelled back and the designer glasses that hid his murderous eyes were perched on the bridge of his crooked nose casually.

He rose one hand and said, with that same even tone:

"Hand back the money and we'll forget this ever happened, babe."

"...What?" Liz repeated, incredulous.

"You heard me." He repeated. "Hand it back and I'll forgive you. I get why you'd wanna' leave this city – I completely understand. And people make mistakes when they're desperate." A small, almost real, smile spread his lips. It feigned sincerity, masked the feral desires that fought within him, impossibly well. "So, what's it gonna' be, Elizabeth? You don't really think you'll be able to take on all of us, do you?" He chuckled.

Liz swallowed, stepping in front of her sister.

"So? What'd'ya say? Peace?"

"Fuck you!" She spat. "Don't call me that, either, shithead!"

He sighed. "Oh, well. I can always replace you two, anyway." His tone sharpened. "Take 'em out, boys."

"Patty – run!" Liz demanded, throwing the door open the instant the command left his mouth.

"NO! I'M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT YOU!"

"Patty, this isn't time to be childish!" Liz shouted. "You run – I'll take care of these numbskulls!"

"But you can't fight without m-me." She croaked.

"She is right, you know." Someone agreed from above. For a second, silence reigned. The criminals paused their predatory march, Liz and Patty stopped in their tracks, and the head gang member stared wide-eyed at the boy that hovered above them all on what appeared to be a skateboard? "It would ruin the absolute symmetry of yourselves if one of you were to pass away."

Liz stared, incredulously. "Kid?"

Kid beamed. "Ah! Wonderful! You remember me!"

"Who the fuck is the kid in the suit?" The head gang member demanded. Several of his lackies shrugged and mumbled their replies.

"Ah, yes. My name is Death the Kid – pleasure to meet your acquaintance." Kid crisply greeted, adjusting his cuffs. "I'm afraid to say, however, under strict orders of my Honorable Father, Lord Death, that you are to refrain from harming Elizabeth and Patricia Thompson from this point on."

"Lord Dea—? Hey! Fuck you, alright? This is my territory and I'll do whatever the fuck I want with those bitches—!"

"My, what a vulgar mouth you have." Kid murmured, his gold eyes emptying of sympathy. He swooped down and landed neatly, Beelzebub absorbing back into his body through his hand. "Did you know it's a sin to speak so crudely of others?"

The head gang member roared: "SUCK MY COCK, YOU LITTLE SHITHEAD – HEY! GET RID OF HIM, TOO!"

Kid merely smiled.

Liz sucked in a breath and watched with wide eyes, Patty gripping her hand, also watching the scene unravel, as the stuck up rich boy they had failed to assault a few days ago single handedly took out each and every gang member without so much as breaking a sweat.

A pile of them remained in an – Liz was disturbed to see, Patty was amused to see – orderly stack against the back of the warehouse.

"There! How troublesome." Kid dusted his hands, turning to them. His gold eyes gleamed again and he rushed to them, Liz flinching back and holding her sister closer. "Now that this has been taken care of – will you two consider becoming my weapons now?"

Liz blanched. "Look, Kid, just because you saved us and all doesn't mean we're gonna' let you be our meister!"

He looked crestfallen.

"But, sissy!" Patty spoke up, pleadingly. "He saved us! He really did..."

Liz faltered. "Yeah, but..."

"If it's shelter you're concerned about, it's not a problem!" Kid quickly said. "It will be provided for you – you are allowed to live in my home for the time being. All expenses will be covered, as well."

Liz eyed him. "Food, shower – TV? Clothes?" She paused. "... Mani/Pedicures?"

Kid smiled, hopeful. "Everything."

She pursed her lips. It was a pretty damn good deal, no doubt about it. From what she could tell, he was loaded. He most likely lived in one of those fancy mansions that Patty often cooed reminded her of a princess' castle. He was willing to provide food, shelter, entertainment, freedom – everything, at the price of becoming his weapons.

The sack of money she had abandoned in her wild attempt to save her sister sat temptingly nearby.

But was it worth it, when an even better offer to save her sister from this hellhole stood right before her?

It was, Liz decided, because this kid had absolutely no idea what she was capable of. She would run him dry, she decided darkly, and he wouldn't even know what hit him. She would allow herself to be used again, for the sake of her sister. But only for her sake.

Liz glanced at Patty, conveying her intentions, and Patty grinned encouragingly.

"... Alright." Liz sighed in mock-defeat. Patty smirked wickedly. Kid excitedly watched as Liz stuck her hand out, aloof. "It's a deal, Kid. We'll be your weapons, you take us outta' this hellhole. Got it?"

"Excellent!" Kid beamed. Then his face wiped clean of emotion. "Now, transform. We're leaving."

Liz glared but Patty cheerfully transformed and fell into his hand as if she had done it a thousand times before.

Kid scowled and looked at Liz, shaking his hand at her pointedly. "If you are to be my weapons, you will transform at exactly the same time! That way, you will land in my hands in an orderly, symmetrical, fashion. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Liz sneered.

Kid tapped his foot impatiently. "Any day now, Elizabeth!"

"Don't call me that!" Liz growled. "My name is Liz."

"And I'm Patty!" Patty cheerfully added.

Kid pressed his lips together. "Very well then, Liz, any time now would be appropriate! I'm late for a meeting with my Father."

"Hey! What about me?" Patty whined, childishly. "You forgot me!"

"...Yes, hello to you, too, Patty."

"Teehee! Hi Kiddo!"

"LIZ!" Kid barked, impatiently, while Patty merely laughed at his frustration.

God, this is why I hate rich kids! But it'll be worth it in the end...I'll run you dry, you snob, just wait. Liz darkly promised before she, too, transformed and landed in his hand.

She smiled.
She broke.
He reaped.

"NOOO!" Kid wailed, biting down on his fingers with wild eyes as the picture frame skewed to the right a little more. "PATTY! WHAT IN DEATH'S NAME ARE YOU DOING? CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE RUINING THE SYMMETRY OF MY HOME?"

"KYAHAHAHA!" Patty laughed, poking the frame and squealing in high laughter when it fell off the nail and landed on the floor in a heap. The corner chipped. "Neh! Kid! Mr. Death said he didn't want it anymore so it doesn't matter!"

"Yes it does!" Kid grieved. "We were supposed to remove it tomorrow! Now look what you did!" He pointed an accusing finger to the row of frames preceding the one Patty had knocked down. "Now it's uneven! There are only seven frames adorning the wall! GAH! Disgusting – BLASPHEMY!"

"Haha! Sowwy!"

Liz's mouth twitched when Kid slumped to his knees. "Kid, get off the floor! Lord Death said he didn't want the damn picture anymore so there's nothing we can do about it!"

"B-but the frame that was supposed to replace it comes in tomorrow morning." Kid bemoaned. "But now – now – !" His eyes darted to the empty space, the space that would haunt him for weeks if it was not replaced immediately. "Now it's ruined! I'm garbage! Complete trash! I'm so sad, damn it, I wanna' die!" He sobbed.

Patty laughed hard, clutching her gut, pointing a finger at Kid as he grieved the loss of symmetry in the hallway.

But something happened in that instant.

Liz was frozen.

The tears of mirth that streamed down her sisters cheeks, the genuine smile, the honest emotion in her crystal blue eyes.

Liz's throat tightened at the innocence of the scene; all sin and suffering and misery washed out of her beautiful eyes.

This guy...

She smiled shakily, her own eyes watering.

Her sister was truly happy for once in her life.

"Patty!" Liz thickly called, clearing her throat as her sister, still laughing, looked at her. "Do something about him – before he locks himself up in his room again!"

Patty beamed. "'Kay! Oh, Kiddo~!"

"I think... this Death God finally killed us."

She had never been so scared.

A thunderous crackle of emotion had combusted in her chest the instant she received the news. It sickened her stomach when treacherous thoughts of her meister – her savior – being beaten and abused in a dingy cell swamped her mind.

There was too much she was indebted with him for; there was still too much to fulfill. She had never realized how much Kid had changed her, how much he had changed both of them, until he had been abducted and the desolate silence of the house deafened her with haunting echoes of their past.

She had never realized how much she needed him - how much they both needed him - until he was gone.

"Kid..." Her voice cracked, as she clutched Kid in her arms. Tears streamed from her eyes, down her cheeks while Kid stiffened in her embrace. "I'm sorry!" Liz sobbed. "I'm so sorry – I never thanked you for what you've done for me – for Patty. You gave her a life again... you made her smile again." Liz shut her eyes tightly, slumping down to her knees and burying her nose in Kid's shirt. "And I took that all for granted and I'm sorry."

Patty watched quietly, the checkered hallway of Gallows Mansion whistling with a draft.

"Don't be." Kid gently said, placing a hand on her head. "You two have put up with my fits for so many years, and you have never faltered in aiding me in my own missions. I could not have asked for a better pair of wea—oof!"

"AWW, KID!" Patty wailed, crying into his shirt as well. "I love you, too, you big dummy!"

Kid sputtered, face coloring as both girls clutched onto him – the Death God who had saved them from damnation – with a fiery determination to never allow harm come to him again. They would protect him, they decided, because he had saved him from their sinful ways and hellish lifestyle and no matter what they did, they would never be able to repay him for that act of utmost kindness.

They would follow him, protect him, until he needed them no longer.

"Thank you so much, Kid."

Kid smiled softly, not minding that Liz was wrinkling his shirt and Patty had accidentally pulled his blazer askew.