Date: 2011-08-26 01:13 pm (UTC)
"You all right?" he asks when she's back in her chair, and she snaps out a "Yep" more loudly than is really called for. It's just--she really, really doesn't want him to get the idea that he somehow kissed her into a stupor--the smirking alone, his stupid face, ugh, she'll never live it down.

"Okay," he says, like she's hilarious--and yup, there it is, it's already starting. "Wait here." Sam climbs right over her to get out into the aisle, his long legs warm against hers. Andy mutters something non-committal.

When he's gone she puts her feet up on the seat in front of her and leans forward, elbows on her knees and forehead against her fists. Maybe Sam has like a two-second recovery rate, but she is...more riled up than is appropriate for the cheap seats, okay, her whole body humming in a way that isn't totally unpleasant. Andy shifts a little in her chair.

She's still sitting like that when he comes back a minute later, pressing an icy water bottle against the back of her neck by way of hello. And whatever, that's really sensitive skin at this particular moment; she almost jumps out of her chair and falls to a violent, icy death.

"Relax, McNally," Sam tells her, handing her the bottle, smiling blandly. He got onion rings, too, is the thing. "You looked dehydrated."

Andy glares at him a little, but she takes the water and drains two thirds of it in one long gulp, fully aware of the fact that he's watching her do it.

(She lets him look.)

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