(no subject)

[inthetapestry]

Dave's been waiting in his apartment, pacing, for a few hours now. Wondering if after all he should have gone.

Though it's not like Sol Laine even knew who he was. And grief - grief is a damn private thing. Not to be shared with strangers.

But still, he was there; he knew what happened. All of what happened, hunt and everything, even more than Kim did. And how the hell could he have let Kim go talk to him by herself, anyways? What kind of friend does that?

And so he paces.

Comments

[bannion_sight]

"Not like you do, I think."

Which isn't exactly a no, and Kim knows he'll hear it.

"It'd be harder, if--"

[inthetapestry]

"If?" Dave echoes.

Then, hasty: "You don't have to answer."

[bannion_sight]

If I couldn't still go to Milliways, she doesn't answer. Even though it's true, Dave evidently can't get there, and it would be worse than cruel to throw that in his face.

Besides, even though it's true -- it's not the only truth.

"If you'd stayed behind," she says, at last. "If you weren't--"

A beat.

"If I were the only one."

[inthetapestry]

Dave turns a little red at that, and looks down at his feet - or would, if the teacup weren't conveniently in the way, so he looks at that.

"Yeah," he says, finally. "Same. It's -

"Not really something you can just forget happened."

[bannion_sight]

"No, it's not."

Kim tries a smile, tugging on a lock of her white hair as she adds with deliberate lightness,

"Besides, if you ever started to, all you'd have to do would be to look at me!"

[inthetapestry]

That earns something of a smile in return.

"It's some souvenir. Works for you, though."

[bannion_sight]

"Thanks. That's good to hear -- especially as I've kind of gotten used to it, anyway."

Kim grins, and takes a sip of tea.

[inthetapestry]

"Hard to imagine you without, now," Dave agrees.

". . . so don't go dying it pink or something just to throw me off, okay?"

It is, after all, the eighties.

[bannion_sight]

She makes a face at him.

"Please. I'm not a pink kind of girl."

[inthetapestry]

"Exactly," Dave counters, grinning, "which is why it'd throw me off."

[bannion_sight]

Kim laughs.

"Well, we can't have that, now can we?"

[inthetapestry]

"Appreciate it." Dave looks very solemn. "Gonna have enough on my mind during this quarter's finals without crazy-hair-colored chicks pulling me off my A-game."

[bannion_sight]

"Dave, you brought evidence notes to Fionavar. Nothing is going to pull you off your game!"

[inthetapestry]

"Hey, not this time around! And I returned the other ones way back in -"

To Kevin.

The sentence falters.

[bannion_sight]

Silence, for a few seconds-- a silence that has a weight and shape and stillness all its own, and then,

"I know," Kim whispers, and somehow it's clear that it's not an answer to what Dave was actually saying, but to what lies behind it.

Clear gray eyes are suddenly overbright as tears well.

[inthetapestry]

There's not much that Dave can think to do, at that point, except set his teacup down on the kitchen table and move the few steps to the couch, wrapping his arm once more around her shoulders.

[bannion_sight]

She dashes the tears from her eyes with a quick, exasperated movement of one hand, then leans into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I promised to have lunch with him next week," Kim says, finally.

[inthetapestry]

Dave rubs her shoulder lightly with the hand resting over it, and looks ahead, staring at the time blinking from the microwave without really registering it.


"Do you want me to come with?"

[bannion_sight]

It hadn't even crossed her mind to ask. Kim tilts her head back to look at him.

"If-- you don't have to, Dave, really you don't--"

[inthetapestry]

Quiet, and a little stubborn: "Yeah. Yeah, I know. That's not why I'm asking."

[bannion_sight]

"No, it wouldn't be, would it?" she says softly.

A pause, and Kim smiles, a little.

"If you don't mind, then. Thanks."