Chapter Text
Graphic Art by Ashja Shakti
"Mickey! Dammit, no!" Mandy walked over and snatched the green marker from his hand, then rubbed away the letters he’d written on the whiteboard at the front of the store which read CLASSES CUMMING SOON. She gave him an evil glare and rewrote it: CLASSES COMING SOON.
"Why the fuck not? It's punny! Rent yourself a fucking sense of humor." He argued, reaching for his marker and missing. "When you get your ass off that chair and update the class schedule, then you can write whatever you want. Until then, I'll write what I want."
"I said no. Remember what happened the last time?" She warned. She nodded her head toward the back of the store where a Bride-to-Be and her overexcited girlfriends were giggling and acting coy in front of the Mother-of-the-Bride, as if their ass had never met a 9-inch double dildo before. Mickey scowled at them, with their Gucci bags and overpriced, pretentious lattes – there was a sign at the damn door that said no food or drinks allowed.
"Listen, if those rich bitches wanna come in here and play with my cocks all day, then I think they can handle a little cum on the board."
Mandy held the marker out of reach as he grabbed for it again.
"I said no! You wanna run a store like that, go back to the South Side. We need to keep it classy here…" she lowered her voice a bit, "… because those rich bitches pay your fucking mortgage."
He knew she was right. He'd already tried other punny ads and had felt the backlash for it. He rolled his eyes and held his hand out, "Fine. Give me my fucking marker."
She handed it over and he immediate drew two cantaloupe sized boobs on the side of the board, then added lines for a neck and torso before pulling a pair of gold, glittery tassel pasties from his pocket. He put them on the boobs where the nipples would be and switched them on so that they spun in circles. He gave Mandy a look, daring her to argue with him again, "We're having a sale on them this week." He insisted, adding $7.99 Special next to the boobs.
She rolled her eyes, knowing there was no point in arguing with him, then headed back to the front counter, leaving him with his giant boobs.
"You know how I know you're gay?" She asked him, "Because no woman on earth has boobs that size, but you wouldn't know that, would you?"
"Yeah, well no guy on earth has a big fat purple 13" double-ended cock, but I didn't see that stopping you from grabbing one for yourself when they came into the store."
"Fuck off. You own one too."
"Ahem…" Mandy turned to find the Mother-of-the-Bride had come up and was standing beside her with a grin on her face. The lady looked right at Mickey and said, "She's right… those breasts are much too large." Then turned to Mandy and said a little more quietly, "I am curious about the dildo he mentioned though… maybe another day when I don't have a carload of young ladies with me?"
Mandy smiled – she liked her immediately. "Sure, anytime. What can I help you find today?"
Mickey went back to the work at hand, checking the monthly class schedule on a scribbled sheet of paper. He began adding them to the board, alternating between a green and red marker, the only colors he had. These were the classes either he or Mandy taught after the other instructors had gone home for the day:
* Lube Lust – Choosing the right lube for you and your toys: 1st Monday 7 p.m.
* Prostate Pleasure – The ins and outs of anal play: 2nd Monday 7 p.m.
* Let's Get Dirty – How to talk dirty to your partner: 3rd Monday 7 p.m.
* Bachelorette Package – Explore lap dancing, striptease, oral pleasure, and more!: 2nd & 4th Tuesday 7 p.m.
* Kinky Kupples – Introducing toys into the bedroom (couples only): 3rd Tuesdays 7 p.m.
Mickey's phone alarm beeped in his pocket. He closed up the markers and tossed them back into a box along with the sheet of paper. "Mandy, I gotta go. Got Yevgeny's carnival at school tonight. Where's that basket?"
She grabbed a large gift basket wrapped in purple cellophane from the back counter, handing it over, then grimaced at the board behind him, "Red and green, Mickey? It's April for Christ's sake, not Christmas."
"Yeah, well, figure out what the fuck Yevy did with the rest of my markers and fix it then." He ran up the back steps to the classroom/studio on the 2nd floor, and found his son, Yevgeny, swinging around one of the stripper poles while watching The Justice League on the TV.
"Yevy, let's get moving." Yev switched the TV off and ran to catch up as Mickey headed down the stairs and out the back door of the store. "Did you finish your homework before you put that movie on?"
"It's Spring Break, Dad. That's why we're having the Spring Carnival, remember?"
"Oh yeah, right.” They slipped into his car, “Buckle up."
Yevgeny Milkovich was ten years old and had been living with his dad full time since the age of three when Mickey's ex-wife, Svetlana, found herself a rich new, straight husband. Rather than ruin her chance at a luxurious life and marriage with a toddler in tow, she passed Yevgeny off to Mickey, claiming it was more important that a boy had his father. Mickey knew from experience that boys needed a mother too. At least he had needed his, but all he had got from life was Terry Milkovich – a homophobic, drug dealing, Nazi-loving sperm donor who tried to beat the shit out of him at every turn. Everything Mickey knew about parenting, he’d learned from doing exactly the opposite of anything Terry had done with him. Mickey was determined not to be like him. He didn’t want Yev to grow up thinking that having just a dad wasn't enough.
Before Svetlana left, she paid Mickey a lump sum of $300,000, courtesy of her new husband's bank account, then disappeared, never to be heard from again. Born and raised on the South Side, in an abusive home, Mickey hardly had the patience or know how to raise a kid. He himself had made his living off drug deals and pimping prostitutes at a Rub N Tug above a neighborhood bar as early as age 16. Before that, he was running jobs for his old man and doing stints in juvie for months at a time. Fortunately, the money Svetlana had left them had given Mickey a chance to change course and do something better for both him and Yev.
The first years with Yev had been hit or miss in the parenting department. Mostly miss. They spent that first year sitting around the house watching PBS and eating fast food. Mickey had done his best to cut ties with his old life, for his son’s sake, and was trying to figure out the next step for them - then one day, out of the blue, his sister Mandy showed up at his front door, broken and bruised. He hadn't seen or heard from her in several years, but as it turned out, they had more in common with each other than they realized.
Mandy had been working in the city as a high-end escort until she and one of her Johns got arrested. After the John was released from jail, his wife left him, his career tanked, and he wanted someone to suffer for it – so he went looking for Mandy, taking his vengeance out on her, beating her and destroying her modest apartment. With nowhere else to go, she went back home, so Mickey took her in. One night, when she and Yev had fallen asleep on the couch, he went on the hunt for the guy. They never talked about where he'd gone, or what had happened, but when he finally came home a day later, he assured her that the asshole wasn't gonna be around to bother her anymore.
They had been raising Yevgeny together ever since, the pimp and the prostitute. Neither of them had a decent education, or any kind of job history – at least nothing they could put on a resume – so when the time came to talk about what they should do next, they followed the only path either of them really new: Sex.
Mickey used a chunk of change from the payoff Svetlana had left them to put a down payment on a small house in Ravenswood, taking them just a few steps out of the South Side where there were better schools for Yev. After they got settled in, he began hunting the area for cheap commercial real estate, finally settling on a rundown old shop with a vacant loft apartment upstairs. Mickey used most of the remaining money he had to buy the building at a bargain price, then spent the next six months gutting and remodeling it into the store they had today.
The first floor was now transformed into 1500 square feet of prime retail space, and the second floor had been completed to include a classroom with tables and chairs, hardwood dance floors, mirrored walls, and 10 stripper poles which were used to teach bored housewives every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning. They leased the 2nd floor out to different instructors who offered classes ranging from yoga and pole dancing to a variety of How-To classes covering every aspect of adult pleasures. Mickey and Mandy led classes as well, usually after 7 each evening when the store closed. Both the class and retail businesses were thriving.
They named the store simply, "Pleasures." It was located in Andersonville, not too far from their house. Between Mickey and Mandy, and one-part time employee, they were able to keep the store running, even turning a small profit their first year. By year two, they had become one of Chicago's most popular up and coming Adult Entertainment Stores, catering to higher-end customers in search of a little boudoir adventure. Mandy's experience with her previous clientele in the city had given her the upper hand in the business. She insisted they keep things clean and simple, and she worked hard to attract customers with those black credit cards.
Life was different now. Mickey was still the same shit talking, South Side thug he'd always been, but now he had to be a responsible father and business owner as well, so the shit talking thug life had to be kept under wraps most of the day – or so he tried. Every now and then he longed for a little of the old trouble he used to get into, but for the time being, he had to be satisfied with dealing dildos and nipple clamps, followed by after school carnivals with his son. Life could be worse.
The streets in front of Yev’s school were blocked off to make space for the vendor trucks. Mickey and Yev parked two blocks away and made their way back on foot. Ravenswood Elementary School was a magnet school that specialized in the fine and performing arts – two things Mickey knew nothing about – but by the time Yev had turned five, he was already beginning to show a special interest in music. Now at age ten, he played the guitar and piano – though not well, Mickey would argue. Ravenswood had been Mandy’s idea, and as much as Mickey hated to admit it, it was perfect for Yev.
The school was filled with bougie kids from bougie families, and it was no secret that most of the mothers loved Mickey Milkovich. They spent hours each week taking yoga at Pleasures, and never failed to stop in the shop after class to flirt a while with him as well. He worked it – flashing his baby blue eyes at them, teasing them just enough with that Bad Boy smile, making them all wish they could have him - then he’d let them down easy and send them back home to their husbands with a bag full of toys and fantasies. He played up to whatever they wanted him to be, after all, selling sex was his job, and he was damn good at his job.
"Dad! A firetruck! Can we go check it out?" Yev asked excitedly, pointed to the far end of the schoolyard.
Sure enough, there was a firetruck and an ambulance parked at the corner of the playground with a group of men and women in uniform talking to a few of the kids. Mickey was definitely interested in getting his share of fireman eye candy, but he needed to get the gift basket Mandy had prepared to the silent auction tables first.
"You go ahead." He barely got the words out before Yev took off running. "YEVY! Don't you leave that truck. I'll be there in five minutes."
He made his way to the gym, finding the mom in charge of the silent auction. He handed over the basket, reminding her that it had ‘sensitive' items inside so it should be sold only to someone 21 or older.
"Got it, Mickey. I'll be sure to keep a close eye on whoever wins the bid. I'm really looking forward to class next week!" She added with a wink.
He flashed her a smile, "Thanks. I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun."
By the time Mickey made it back to the playground, the emergency lights were flashing on both the emergency vehicles and the kids were gathered around listening to a tall red-headed medic talking about seat belt safety. The medic looked up just in time to see Mickey making his way to the front of the crowd. Mickey's face lit up with a smile when he saw his son nearby.
Holy shit - The thought hit the medic like a bolt of lightning when he got a good look at Mickey, making him lose his train of thought and trip over the words he was saying. Mickey glanced at him, misinterpreting the look the red-head was giving him. He was used to people in this neighborhood judging him for his rough thug style, usually consisting of loose-fitting jeans and a collection of old shirts with cut off sleeves, but he didn't give a fuck.
The medic's partner took over the discussion after a minute, introducing herself as Shelly. She began talking to the kids about what they should do in the event that they or a friend might start choking. The red-head moved to the side of the crowd, closer to where Mickey and Yev were now standing together. He was taking sideways glances over at Mickey, trying to get a better look at the tattoos on his knuckles. Mickey was busy texting someone on his phone, but in the corner of his eye he kept catching the medic looking his way.
"There a problem?" He finally asked, tilting his head just enough to give the medic a raised eyebrow sneer.
"Uh… what? No. No problem." The guy shook his head uncertainly, then stepped forward and offered his hand to Mickey, "Ian… Gallagher."
Mickey hesitated a moment, still sneering as he gave the guy a quick once-over. Ian was tall and slender, but the way his uniform was hugging his body, Mickey could see he was solid underneath.
Ian gave him a wary smile, almost ready to pull his hand back when Mickey finally reached out to shake it. The tattoos on Mickey's knuckles were legible now, spelling out F U C K. Ian couldn't help glancing over at his other hand, catching the rest of the phrase: U – U P. He chuckled a bit then offered earnestly, "Nice tattoos."
"What can I say…I was a piece of work when I was younger."
"Hmmm…" Ian took him in and wondered if he wasn't still a piece of work.
Shelly began to hand out wooden tongue depressors to each of the kids. Mickey hadn't been paying attention to what she was talking about but was taken aback when each kid slid the stick slowly to the back of their mouths until they gagged, then broke into laughter. She collected the sticks in a plastic trash bag.
"The fuck are they doing?" He asked.
"She's teaching them choking safety. They're testing their gag reflex. Wanna try it?" Ian asked, moving to get Mickey a tongue depressor.
"No, I don't wanna fucking try it. I don't have a gag reflex." He said matter-of-factly.
Ian did a double take at Mickey, then asked, "You sure about that? That's not safe, you know."
"Yeah, well I haven't choked on anything I've stuck in my mouth yet." Mickey joked, quickly tapping his thumb against his nose and hoping the innuendo had been lost on the medic.
But it hadn't. "Is that so?" Ian asked, suddenly very interested in hearing more.
Before the conversation could continue, the kids in the crowd began to disperse, heading into the school where carnival games were set up. Yev pulled on Mickey's arm, "Dad, I'm gonna go inside with Jack. I'll see you in there, k?"
"Yeah, sure. I'm right behind you." He turned to Ian, who was looking at him now with fresh eyes and a wry smile. "See ya ‘round, Gallagher."
"Sure… Oh, hey! I didn't get your name."
Mickey pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, giving Ian another once-over, this time really drinking in him. "I didn't give it. See ya."
***
Graphic Art by Ashja Shakti
An hour later, Mickey walked through the halls of the school carrying a school foam finger, a ziplock bag filled with smashed cupcakes, an oversized pink teddy bear, and was wearing cheap plastic Harry Potter glasses and a wizard's hat on his head. His face was half painted in a skull mask and he was sucking on a cherry ring pop hanging from his mouth – he was a sight to see for certain. He headed for the lunchroom where Jack's mom had said the boys were headed.
"Yev… Yevgeny! Hey, get over here and carry some of this shit." He said as his son went racing past him.
"Dad! They're gonna do a hot dog eating contest! You should join!"
Mickey slipped the ring pop onto his finger, then put the wizard cap on Yev's head. He showed Yev the smashed cupcakes, "You gonna eat these?"
"Ew, no." Mickey tossed them into a nearby trash can.
"Dad, come on. You gotta join the contest."
Mickey laughed, shaking his head, "Nope, you do it."
"I can't. It's just for the dads. Come on, please?" Yev gave him those puppy dog eyes he'd been perfecting since he was a baby. Mickey pierced his lips, determined to win this debate, but when Yev added, "pleeaase daddy," Mickey knew he had lost.
"Fuck… fine."
"Great! It's over here! They're gonna be starting in like ten minutes. You gotta go sign up."
Yev pulled him through the room to a table where a high school student decked in his letterman jacket was handling registration… and a familiar red-headed medic was sitting behind him wasting time on his phone.
"My dad's gonna sign up!" Yev announced.
"Cool…ok, you have to sign a waiver first." said Letterman. He handed the waiver to Mickey, then grabbed another form to write on, "What's your first name?"
"Mikhailo." Yev answered, as Mickey began signing the waiver without reading.
"It's Mickey." He corrected. "Last name's Milkovich… M I L K O V I C H."
"Cool name." Mickey looked up to see Ian looking right back at him. Mickey bit his lip, and Ian broke into a sly smile at the sight of it. After a few seconds, Letterman behind the table tapped Mickey with the pen and broke their reverie.
"Sir… I need the waiver please." Mickey realized they were both holding the paper at opposite ends, but he hadn't released his grip yet.
"Oh, sorry." He gave Ian one last sideways glance, then walked away, "Let's go, Yev."
By the time the contest started, there were two dozen men signed up and sitting behind the long tables in the middle of the room. Mickey took a seat at the far left side of the tables. Ian and his partner were there in case anyone should choke and took their places at either end of the group. Ian made it a point to stand near the left end of the room, almost directly in Mickey's sight.
The buzzer rang and the dads grabbed their first dogs! Mickey double fisted, taking bites from each as he went, sipping on a drink of water now and then to help wash them down. He'd made it through almost three dogs when he heard Letterman yell, "FOUR MORE MINUTES!"
He glanced into the crowd to look for Yev, but instead, he caught sight of Ian near the back wall, his big stupid grin and eyes only on Mickey. Mickey wasted a second too long taking him in, then pulled his attention back to the hotdogs in front of him, grabbing two more. But it was pointless – his brain knew Ian was right there, in front of him, watching, and that's all he could think of.
Mickey shoved one of the dogs deep into his mouth, briefly allowing his eyes to wander up just in time to see Ian against the back wall, discreetly trying to adjust his crotch without anyone else noticing… his eyes still only on Mickey. Mickey inhaled deeply at the sight, as he tried to swallow, and that was it – the dog went straight down the wrong pipe and he began to choke.
He tried to cough it up, reaching for the water then quickly pushing it away as he realized he couldn't clear the obstruction from his throat. He grabbed at his throat, trying his best to force the food back up, but it was useless. An ironic thought went through his head – really should have paid attention to the choking safety earlier…
He was gasping, desperately trying to get a breath of air, his brain fuzzy with panic as the room blurred and the yelling in the room grew more distant and… one, two, three! He felt a vice grip around his torso as someone began to perform the Heimlich maneuver on him… one, two, three… He felt the solid grip on his gut once again, hearing Ian's voice "Come on, Mickey… breathe for me, buddy…" One, two, three! A chunk of hotdog flew from his mouth, and he began to suck precious oxygen into his lungs again.
Moisture ran from his eyes as he took in another gasp of air, his hands automatically coming down on top of Ian's which were still wrapped snuggly around him. Their fingers intertwined briefly, soft, simple, then he heard Ian speak in his ear again, this time more gently, "You ok, Mick?"
Mickey looked up to see that most eyes in the room were on him. His fingers tightened around Ian's just long enough to rip them quickly away from his body and push him off.
"I'm fine… get the fuck off me." He said gruffly. He brushed remnants of hot dog from his shirt and turned to see Yev standing next to them, tears running down his face.
"daddy…" His son fell into his arms and held on tight.
"Come on, bud. None of that. I'm ok." He put his arm around his son and led him from the room, ignoring the concerned comments from the parents around them.
They walked the long hallway to an unoccupied bathroom at the far end of the school. It took Mickey several minutes to convince Yev that he was going to be ok and that it hadn't been Yev's fault. When the kid finally calmed down, they gathered up his carnival winnings and headed out a side door toward their car.
Ian and his partner were headed in the same direction outside of the school, running straight into Mickey and Yev as they turned the corner.
"Shit! ‘Scuse me…sorry." Ian steadied himself and Mickey after bumping directly into him. "Mickey, hi… are you…"
"Yeah, yeah, told you, I'm fine." He said impatiently, rolling his eyes at his dumb luck for having run into his rescuer all over again.
A small voice came, "Thank you." Both Ian and Mickey looked down where Yev was standing behind Mickey, holding on to his dad’s arm. He looked up at Ian and smiled shyly. "Thank you for saving my dad."
Ian bent down to his level, noticing Yev's glossy eyes, "Yeah, of course, buddy. You doing ok?"
Yev smiled and nodded, then looked at the stethoscope around Ian's neck. "My Aunt Mandy said if you put that thing to someone's brain, you can hear them thinking. Is that true?"
Ian laughed. "Don't know. I never tried it. You wanna check it out?" Ian nodded toward the ambulance and began to walk away. "Come on."
Yev looked at Mickey, "Can I, Dad?"
Mickey just wanted to go home but seeing Yev calming down finally was good too. "Sure."
Yev ran after Ian, jumping into the back of the ambulance once the doors were open. He and Ian busied themselves checking out the equipment in the rig then getting Yev hooked up to the EKG machine so he could watch his heartbeat on the tiny screen. Mickey took a seat at the edge of the ambulance doors with his back to the two of them, pretending to be interested in something on his phone screen while listening to the conversation behind him. Ian was cracking corny jokes, making Yev laugh, and making Mickey feel a little guilty for treating him like such an asshole after he’d saved his life.
Ian's partner, Shelly, was standing nearby watching Mickey closely. "Do I know you?" she finally asked. "I feel like I've met you someplace."
Mickey didn't bother to look up from his phone, "Doubt it. Spend a lot of time at work."
"Wait a minute… I do know you! Don't you work at that shop on Clark and Berwyn? I take… yoga class there in the evenings sometime." She glanced up at Ian then back at Mickey and added quietly, "I have a punch card!"
Mickey chuckled a bit, suddenly understanding her discreet class choice. There were no ‘yoga' classes in the evenings, but there were plenty of other classes he could think of that she may have attended. Ian chimed in from behind them, "I didn't know you were taking yoga classes."
"I do. Sometimes." She said defensively as if she were trying to prove a point. She looked back at Mickey, "That class you ran last month on Thursday nights was damn hot!"
Ian looked at her more confused than ever, so Mickey elaborated for him as he tried not to laugh, "We do hot yoga too."
Ian looked from Mickey to Shelly, catching their grins, "Why do I feel like we're not talking about yoga here?" Ian finally asked.
"So, are you the one who donated the basket inside?” She asked excitedly, ignoring Ian’s question. “I bid on that! I couldn't even see what was in it, but whatever it is, I want it."
Mickey nodded, then looked around at Ian. Yev was busy with the stethoscope earbuds in his ears and the other end stuck to Ian's head. Mickey looked back at Shelly as if asking permission to tell, but she spoke first.
"Ok, Ian… It's not actually yoga classes." She gave him a facetious smile and waited for him to catch on, but he didn't. "Do I really need to spell it out for you? God, you're the worst maid of honor ever, you know that? I told you about this shop like a year ago."
"Wait… you're a maid of honor?" Mickey asked, laughing.
Ian rolled his eyes, ignoring Mickey. He tied a tourniquet around the top of his arm, then rolled his arm over and put the end of the stethoscope on the inside of his elbow so Yev could try to listen for a heartbeat.
"Well, sort of… my sister is the maid of honor, but she lives out of state, and I don't have any other family here. I'm not getting married until the end of August, so Ian's been helping me." Shelly explained. "I've been telling him about that store since last year, but he refuses to go near it."
Ian ran through the inventory of countless conversations he'd had with Shelly and came up blank. "Clark and Berwyn, you said?" He knew the streets – there was an assortment of independent businesses along that street, including a Starbucks he stopped at now and again, but nothing else he could put his…. "Are you talking about that one store you dragged me to… that sex place?"
Shelly laughed, "YES! Yes, the one I told you I wanted to start going to, and you said only perverts went into places like that."
Mickey furrowed his brows at Ian.
"Whoa, wait… I don't think I said perverts" Ian said. "Ok, I might have said perverts, but…"
"But nothing." Mickey interrupted, "I ain't a fucking pervert. Pleasures was voted Best of Chicago Adult Industry Shop two years in a row."
"Isn't that the place that had the ‘Coming Soon' banner stuck up in one of the trees for like eight months?" Ian asked. "My brother pointed that out to me one day. Shouldn't they have spelled it c u m m i n g?"
Mickey scowled at Ian, then glanced over at Yev, who was now preoccupied looking into dozens of little drawers inside of the rig. Ian saw the look Mickey was giving him, realizing he'd said the wrong thing with Yev present. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
"It's ok. I know the difference between c u m and c o m e." Yev said. "Aunt Mandy taught me."
"You and Aunt Mandy need to stick to watching Adventure Time and stop talking to each other so much." Mickey said.
"Yeah, that's what she said when I asked her why you spelled it wrong on the board at the store that one time." Yev answered.
Ian snickered, drawing Mickey's attention again, "Maid of Honor, huh?" he mocked. Ian sobered quickly.
"I keep telling him you have great classes for wedding parties there, but I can't convince him to take any with me." Shelly said, hoping Mickey would convince Ian to go.
"I'm not sure he'd fit in there," Mickey said dryly. "Probably too much for him to handle, you know? I mean, lap dances? Flirting? All those toys?" He glanced back at Ian, a smirk on his face, daring Ian to argue. Ian rolled his eyes and shook his head, dismissing Mickey with a quiet chuckle. "Nah, he's not your boy. But bring some of your girlfriends in. I'm in good with the owner, and I'll set you up with a good deal."
Yev came up beside Mickey, holding onto his arm as he jumped from the ambulance, "You are the owner, Dad."
Ian jumped from the rig next, with two bottles of water, handing one off to Yev and opening up his own to take a drink.
Mickey gave Shelly a shrug and a smile, “Yeah, I guess I am. So, I guess I’ll give you a good deal.” He looked at Ian once more, "If you decide to put your big girl panties on, come in with her, Gallagher. You can take one of my classes on how to suppress your gag reflex while you’re there."
Mickey added in a wink and private smirk just for Ian’s eyes, making Ian choke on the drink he'd taken. Mickey reached over and hit him hard on his back twice, resting his hand there a second longer than necessary as Ian cleared his throat and caught his breath.
"Look at that. You're not the only one saving lives today, are you, Gallagher?" Mickey said as he and Yev headed for the car.