Tim should have known something was up when his boss's client had asked to meet in a store instead of coming to the office or somewhere normal people meet. All Tim was given was a time, an address, an aisle, and what to look for, not the type of store or even the name. Standing in front of the shop, staring at the murals, Tim could only assume that was because he desperately wanted Tim to murder him. Or he hadn't known what kind of place it was. Possibly a combination. Tim was no prude, he didn't care if people wanted to spice things up or scratch a particular itch, but he absolutely didn't want to have to stand around waiting for a slimy, shapeshifting scumbag in a goddamn sex shop. If the little bastard didn't show... he was going to have a word with him, one way or another.
After staring at the door for a good minute or two and huffing with an appropriate amount of indignation, Tim headed inside in the hopes that maybe he was lucky and the guy was already waiting. Of course he wasn't. And of course the aisle at the end, the one he was supposed to wait by, had to be the one with all the strap-ons and attachments. Fanfuckingtasitc. Tim rolled his eyes in annoyance, then headed over, grabbing a random magazine from the end of an aisle on his way. He stood in the corner so he had a good view of the door, settled one arm on the top of his holster, and flipped open the magazine perhaps a bit too loudly.
It was a catalog of women's lingerie. Lingerie that, in Kentucky, would be called "Old fashioned". A bloomercatalog. He started paging through it regardless, his back to the strap-on display, and pretended it was one of his MAXIMs from home, just... without all the good parts. And more blue breasts. Tim didn't manage to look interested, but he managed not to look too disinterested, glancing up whenever he heard the door open to see if it was the asshole he was supposed to be meeting.
If this is too belated or doesn't work or sommat, feel free to ignore or ask me to edit :3
After staring at the door for a good minute or two and huffing with an appropriate amount of indignation, Tim headed inside in the hopes that maybe he was lucky and the guy was already waiting. Of course he wasn't. And of course the aisle at the end, the one he was supposed to wait by, had to be the one with all the strap-ons and attachments. Fanfuckingtasitc. Tim rolled his eyes in annoyance, then headed over, grabbing a random magazine from the end of an aisle on his way. He stood in the corner so he had a good view of the door, settled one arm on the top of his holster, and flipped open the magazine perhaps a bit too loudly.
It was a catalog of women's lingerie. Lingerie that, in Kentucky, would be called "Old fashioned". A bloomercatalog. He started paging through it regardless, his back to the strap-on display, and pretended it was one of his MAXIMs from home, just... without all the good parts. And more blue breasts. Tim didn't manage to look interested, but he managed not to look too disinterested, glancing up whenever he heard the door open to see if it was the asshole he was supposed to be meeting.