[ the gentle humor from Abbacchio, as thin as it may be, is enough to ease more of the tension out of his shoulders, and he smiles, too - light but sincere, the way that most of Bucciarati's smiles are. It's a hint of normal. Nothing's been normal, nothing will be normal again - not the way they knew it - but this, the ability to share a smile, to talk again without feeling the unspoken weight of everything that happened that week bearing down on them, is close enough. It's the same as it had been with Fugo. They're on the same page again, and it's that much easier for him to breathe. ]

Pissed at you, maybe.

[ for all his hot-headedness, Narancia almost never yelled at Bucciarati. He idolized him too much. It concerned and flattered Bucciarati in equal measure; he went out of his way never to treat Narancia differently or take advantage of it, but he was well aware of it, evidently. Thinking of it now simply fills him with a sort of sad fondness. ]

But you're right that he wouldn't want that. I think he'd want payback and pizza, in that order.

[ and one of those things has already been done, so... ]