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[almightythirst]

Hey there, stranger. Don't think I gotta explain the situation: you called, I didn't pick up. Leave me a message and maybe I'll get back to you.

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[almightythirst]

Jesse isn’t sure she is being careful as she can. Maybe she thinks she is, if only because she’s not paying attention to the dangers of compromising what moral compass she might have left for this enterprise. And she does have a moral compass, of a kind. Like his, it doesn’t always point due north, but it’s there just the same.

“You remember that?” He laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners along well-worn lines. He glances away, only for his eyes to be drawn right back to her. “I still say it. Guess I can let you borrow it too, if you want. Gotta pay me royalties though.”

No doubting if it applies to her, because it so obviously does. He takes a drag of his cigarillo and catches a glimpse of red on it from her lipstick, and in a moment his thoughts are back at the party. Her lips on his. Her lipstick left on his skin like a brand. He clears his throat and tilts his head away, with the (perfectly valid) excuse of not blowing his smoke out in her face.

“You’ve got good and bad in you, same as anyone. But when you do one, you go farther than most would. Just…don’t let this place change you into somebody you don’t want to be.”

Is that what had happened with Deadlock? Had she started out with good intentions, and gotten lost along the way? Or had it been a purposeful downhill spiral? Does she regret it or not? When he turns back to her, there’s something searching in his gaze. A question he doesn’t know how to ask.

[cashe]

"Royalties, huh?" She laughed at the notion and shook her head. "If anyone owes royalties, it's you to Clint Eastwood. You practically stole the man's style, God rest his soul." Her tone was light and playful. It was so easy to feel relaxed around him when their friendly banter was going on.

It's less easy to talk to him about the heaviness of the enterprise she was creating. Not because she didn't want to talk to him about it, but because there was worry on both their ends. Crime was always a balancing act and falling off the high wire could have nasty consequences. She was trying to stay safe, but it was difficult.

She swallowed roughly as she voices the concern about her changing. This place was changing her, though maybe not for the worst. Deeringon was regularly forcing her to question all the things she had held herself too. Catching his gaze again, she finds herself making mental notes about his features. Her own thoughts returned constantly to that night at the party, but she would have guessed that she was the only one thinking about it.

"Too late for that." She looks down, finding a one manicured nail that was in need of care suddenly deeply interesting. "I think I'm already not the same woman I was six months ago. Hell, I would have laughed in their face if anyone had suggested we'd be workin' together again. Y'know right around the time you left, the boys would say they wished you were back just to reign me in. I broke a nose or two over that. But if what they were saying was true, well...I guess I need you down here in the thick of it with me, makin' sure I don't get in over my head." The truth was, for the first time in years, she actually felt like herself. When she looks back up at him, she catches the look in his eyes that suggests he is leaving something unsaid. She feels a warmth spread over her cheeks as she watches him intently.

"C'mon cowboy, just say what's on your mind."

[almightythirst]

“I’m not rippin’ him off, I’m honorin’ his memory. Besides, sure there were plenty of cowboys who dressed up the same before he even got into movies. The crew got inspired from somewhere.”

He’s put thought into this, obviously, and it’s not often anyone actually puts up with his long, rambling talks about old Westerns and the finer points of cowboy culture. But seeing as there’s more important topics on the table, he manages to keep from elaborating, focusing instead on Ashe.

The boys would say they wished you were back just to reign me in. He schools his face, hoping the little twinge in his chest doesn’t translate to an outward expression. Had he been missed? He’d wondered sometimes, feeling self-centered and a little bit maudlin about it. He’d not been close to anyone like he’d been close with Ashe, but he’d had friends. They’d been in it together. How much of that old gang was even still around these days, not killed off, scared off, or arrested?

Again, off-topic. He feels the truth of what she’s saying without even having to consider it: she doesn’t need him to be successful, but she might just need him to stay alive long enough to reap the rewards. As for whether he’s willing to do that… well, he doesn’t have to consider that either. Looking into those ruby-toned eyes, he knows the answer.

Say what’s on his mind? Hell, does he even know? Does he want to ask a question, or make her a promise, or say something he shouldn’t? Like how pretty she is when she blushes, the warmth of her cheeks offsetting her eyes…?

No. None of that, obviously. He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“You hungry?”

[cashe]

She waved her hand to his cowboy reference, dismissing the excuses with a smile. There were other times that would be better for indulging him in a solid conversation about cowboy culture, but she certainly wasn't put off by the idea of picking up the conversation at another time.

Her own thoughts feel a bit too muddled to stay on that topic. The way he watches her pulls her in and she tries to pinpoint how it makes her feel. Safe keeps coming to mind and it's a turn around from the way she had felt over the years regarding him. Even if she hasn't been able to kick the vulnerability and apprehension of letting him in emotionally again, she feels relatively sure that he will have her back. At least sure enough to bring him into the web of her work again.

For her part, even when he wasn't right in front of her, he was on her mind consistently. Had been for month, with a growing intensity since August. There are moments where she finds she wants to just watch him. She's been hyper aware of his body lately and the way he moves. His own eyes are too easy to get lost in, and she's thought multiple times about how much she wants to kiss him again. Feel his mouth on hers and his beard brushing against her skin.

While she waits for the answer to her question, she grows a bit lost, so when he asks her about being hungry she snaps back to herself. "Hungry?" Was he asking her to dinner? Probably not in the that sense of the word. But dinner with him sounded great. "Yeah...I could eat. Skipped lunch holed up down here. You want to go get some food?"

[almightythirst]

There. Back on solid ground, easy as that. This is something he’ll have to do, he realizes now: keep busy with her. Have a purpose when they speak, when they meet. Otherwise, he’s starting to get the notion that he’ll say or do something that will destroy all of this goodwill they’ve miraculously been able to build up.

Or maybe not, a treacherous voice whispers in the back of his mind, presenting a perfect example of exactly why he needs to heed his own good advice. The moment their conversation had lulled, the what-ifs had come rushing in to trip him up. What if she wanted to kiss him much as he wants to kiss her? What if, as he’s been told and refused to believe, she doesn’t hate him much as she used to?

“Let’s get you out of here and into some fresh air then. B.O.B. know you’ve been skippin’ meals?”

He turns towards the door, putting her out of sight just long enough for him to catch his breath.

[cashe]

Despite it being a good business move, it's a solid way to keep close. She still hasn't figured out why she wants to, but she does. So close in fact that she feels a small wave of disappointment when he moves away. She realizes that they've been close enough that it could have been a possibility. Dinner though sounds nice, and she likes the prospect of having a meal with him. She's pretty sure the last place they ever had a meal together was at the Panorama Dinner on Route 66, years ago. She could recall complaining about the food the whole time. She makes a mental note to not complain about the food this time. It was at least some growth.

Quickly, she puts her papers away under lock and key before reaching for her leather jacket, pulling it on and turning off her desk light. "Well, obviously he doesn't, because otherwise he'd be bringin' me lunch." It was a joke mostly. B.O.B. had just been busy too with runnin' an errand she had asked of him. She'd told him to head home when he was done.

"Alright. I'm all set. Let's go, just... please not diner food." Okay. It was a work in progress. "Maybe that nice Chinese place, instead?" She was trying.

[almightythirst]

Jesse had always been defensive of that diner. Best pie in the state, if not the country, or he’d always maintained. If asked, he would still say so. But he’s the kind of guy who can live off of tar-thick diner coffee, so. That explains a lot.

“Fine, fine…” He sighs, playing at being huffy. He can tell that she’s trying though, and he won’t tease her overly much today. Meeting each other halfway… now that’s a new concept to consider.

“Chinese sounds good. You know I can put away those little dumplin’s like nobody’s business.”

[cashe]

Likewise Ashe had often accused him of having absolutely no taste, and any explanation or defense would have been met with such. It would have turned into one of the old arguments they'd had as teens while debating on where to eat. Or what to buy. Or what hotel to stay at.

She smiles though, because she takes that as a concession and she's glad to know they don't have to eat diner food. "Just don't embarrass me." However, her eyes are bright with amusement and she looks happy as she reaches for the light switch before locking the door.