She's quiet most of the car ride home (home-home, finally, even though it's probably covered in dust, nothing in the fridge, and crap, seriously, what is he even going to feed her?). It's eerie, especially after all that chatter in the cover apartment--no fiddling with the presets, nothing. She keeps looking at him like he shot her dog, or she shot his. (And he gets it, he does. They're--well. It was a pretty monumental fuck-up, all told.) Finally Sam takes her hand at a red light on Dufferin, tells her they're going to be fine.
Oddly enough, that's what makes her burst into tears. Like, big, ugly, all-that-and-a-bag-of-chips sobs.
"Sam--" and he can barely hear her, she's crying so hard. "You could have died." Her nose is all snotty.
And Sam knows he shouldn't be smiling at her--J.D.'s a gentleman, holds my hand, brings me juice in bed--but he's not dead, is the thing. He's not dead, and she's not dead. No one is dead, and he's pretty sure she obliquely agreed to date him in the parking lot.
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Date: 2011-09-11 07:52 pm (UTC)Oddly enough, that's what makes her burst into tears. Like, big, ugly, all-that-and-a-bag-of-chips sobs.
"Sam--" and he can barely hear her, she's crying so hard. "You could have died." Her nose is all snotty.
And Sam knows he shouldn't be smiling at her--J.D.'s a gentleman, holds my hand, brings me juice in bed--but he's not dead, is the thing. He's not dead, and she's not dead. No one is dead, and he's pretty sure she obliquely agreed to date him in the parking lot.
So.