(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

[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."