starkingenuity: (worried - puppy)
"Five minutes." He looks through Jim as if Moriarty will move through the powers of the mind. When that doesn't work, dark eyes flicker upwards to an Irish face and Moran exhales very, very slowly. "Let me explain this to you."

As good as he's sure it's going to be, Tony's eyes search frantically for a way out. Five minutes...and then they're going to play. Play what? That's one question he never wants answered.

"I like one show. I sit through yours and I want thirty minutes to myself. No. I want twenty-two minutes to myself." Damn commercials. He usually has to get up and get drinks or kill someone during commercial breaks. "So. Five. Fucking. Minutes. Got it?"
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