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[stand_unshaken]

 

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[dog_eat_dog]

"Yeah, not exactly a great choice on the Admiral's part," she replies, leaning against the counter. Unless he's testing their self-restraint, in which case... touché.

She pours hot water into the mug, watching as it turns dark brown.

"Anyone gone after you yet?"

[stand_unshaken]

"Oh, yeah. William had a go at me. Where that man's grudge comes from I don't know, but it's annoying as hell."

[dog_eat_dog]

"He comes up with these stories for people and lets them run away with him," she replies as she brings the coffee over and sets it down in front of him. She can't help but roll her eyes a little –– William. "Just cross your fingers that the Barge makes you think you're his family or something, it'll settle him right down after."

[stand_unshaken]

"No promises that would settle me down," he warns. "He seems to think it was my fault he shot me that one time, and now he's allowed to always be pissed at me."

[dog_eat_dog]

She shakes her head as she takes a seat across from him. Being lovers had been like an ice bath thrown on her conflict with William; she might have denied it with warning, too.

"It doesn't always make sense," she replies. She mulls over telling Arthur that William assumed he'd broken her arm, but maybe that's an unhelpful sort of honesty. "I don't know. You're a warden. Just be the bigger man, the rest of it is his problem."

[stand_unshaken]

"I try to be. I ain't the one who smacked him in the head, on account of not being invisible."

He probably wouldn't have done it anyway. Probably.

[dog_eat_dog]

"Good thing you have a thick skull, huh?" she replies, gently teasing. "Could have been far worse than a smack in the head. The guy loves knives."

[stand_unshaken]

"That guy loves everything he can torment me with," he grouses, reaching for his coffee.

"Thanks for this. How's the arm?"

[dog_eat_dog]

"Any time," she replies. "The arm's survivable."

[stand_unshaken]

"You need pain medication?"

[dog_eat_dog]

"No, Tiffany loaded me up when I dropped by the infirmary again."

[stand_unshaken]

"Good. Great."

He takes a sip of his coffee, debating the right words. It takes a while, but eventually he says:

"Thank you. For the photograph."

[dog_eat_dog]

She nods, sitting in the silence with her eyes on the table, but she looks up when he talks.

"You're welcome. I figured you'd like it, you being sentimental and all," she replies.

[stand_unshaken]

He snorts and flips her off. "Nothing wrong with holdin' on to good memories."

[dog_eat_dog]

"Never said there was," she replies. "You just do it a lot better than most, that's all."

[stand_unshaken]

"Do I? Everyone's got pictures. Even William."

[dog_eat_dog]

She lets out a long breath.

"Yeah, well, you and William both do it better than me, then."

[stand_unshaken]

"What kinda pictures would you want, given the opportunity?"

[dog_eat_dog]

The answer does come easy, but admitting it out loud needs to be forced. She doesn't look at him.

"Family pictures, I guess. My childhood, family vacations, my parents, whatever I had on my phone that last normal year. Joel."

Sounds like torture to her, always being able to look back on that.

[stand_unshaken]

"You had a lot of 'em? Lost after the outbreak?"

[dog_eat_dog]

“Yeah, they’re all still rotting in my childhood house, probably,” she replies. “Assuming the area didn’t burn or flood out.”

[stand_unshaken]

"It's just pictures, but they sure as hell can mean a lot. Damn shame you lost all'a that. But you was a cute kid," he adds, to lighten things a little.

[dog_eat_dog]

That drags a laugh out of her, though it’s well under her breath.

“Yeah, lots of pictures of me from dance classes in frilly dresses, and covered in birthday cake, and swimming and all that.” She shrugs, lets her gaze drift off a moment, comes back sharp. “Stopped being cute a long time ago, too.”

[stand_unshaken]

"Well, that don't matter. I don't think I was ever cute, so at least you're one step ahead of me."

He was kind of a feral kid.

[dog_eat_dog]

“You never needed to be cute, ‘cause women peak at twenty and men peak in their fifties or something,” she replies, wryly. “I’m sure people believed that in your time as much as they did in mine, yeah?”