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“Do you think this would work for Michael?”
“Nah,” calls Gavin from the other side of the store, dismissing the designer leather jacket I’m holding up. “He’ll roll in petrol as soon as he gets it.”
I mumble my agreement, placing the item back on the hanger and moving on. Stepping over the shattered glass I head out the store and back into the mall, scanning the names in search of something – anything – that’ll convert my level of love for the crew into physical form.
“There’s got to be something.”
“You’re thinking too hard.” Gavin emerges from the hole and smiles happily, shopping bags and security tags clinging to his elbows. In the dim light he’s nothing more than a glint of gold. “We’ve got all night.”
“Or until the cops turn up.”
“Whichever comes first?”
“That’s not long enough,” I grumble, spotting an unnecessarily expensive electronics storefront and wandering towards the halted escalator. “I should’ve started shopping a month ago. Now we're a week out from Christmas and I’ve got nothing.”
“Nah, you’ve got me!”
I throw him a half hearted glare. “I’ve got nothing.”
“Words hurt, Y/N,” he scolds, taking the steps two at a time, squealing at the sight of a jewellers dripping with diamonds.
“Not as much as my fist.”
“Is that a threat?” he throws back, racing into the store without sparing me another glance. I smile at his enthusiasm, a swift smash of a golf club seeing the glass explode in glitter.
“More of a promise,” I tease, staying on course and peering into the window, eyes scanning ridiculously shiny equipment unnecessarily encrusted in Swarovski.
Gavin can’t respond, too enthralled by all things glistening to hear me. I abandon him with the golden joy as glass collides with my knuckles and allows me entrance, heart set on the item in the centre. A quick cascade of pops exits the barrel of my gun, blinding the security systems for good measure – an extra step that’s arguably pointless, Gavin and I having rigged the mall with silencing devices before we’d started our shopping spree. Reaching in, the object’s heavy in my hands, fracturing in rainbows across my skin.
“Hey Gav?”
He peers out the store, neck dressed in far too many necklaces. I hold up the crystal pilot’s helmet, grinning. “Think I’ve got Jack sorted.”
“Top!” he exclaims, joining me with a smile and stumbling of limbs. “That’s one down and a shit ton more to go.”
“I was thinking of getting Ryan a cook book or something,” I muse, linking arms with him and drifting past the stores, his lips pressing momentarily to my temple. “You know; something where each recipe is more likely to give him a sugar overdose than the last.”
“That works,” nods Gavin, letting me go and sliding down the escalator rail to land beside a stall chock full of donuts cowering behind glass. “I was gonna get him that book about disembowelling corpses.”
I follow, foregoing the stairs and leaping to the kiosk, the soles of my boots smashing through the glass. Triumphantly I snatch a pastry, Gavin doing the same and savouring the sugar. “He’ll be so excited, Gavver. Chocolate and chaos are his two favourite things.”