intheblanks | ➹BEEPER

Are you headed to the boat or one of those?

[A nod indicates the apartments further back from the shore.]

It's easier to sleep on the boat.

[That had been her intention, to swim until her head was calm and then try to rest.]

And if I offered to walk you there?

[She frowns slightly, but rather than answer she just turns, pausing to glance back with a look that says he should be following her.]

[It's no effort at all to catch her up, or fall easily in step, matching his pace with hers. If he turns his head he can see the salt drying on her skin. Had he brought one, he'd have offered her his jacket by now.]

You were worried about tracking sand onto a boat?

No.

[She was avoiding him. Now she's warily approaching her gangplank with him in tow.]

[The tone was light - lighter, at least, than most of this conversation. He bites down lightly on the corner of his lip, and nods.]

Good. Because I might be gritty.

No one's invited you on deck.

I'm hopeful. No hands if you don't want them.

[They're clasped, now, behind his back.]

You'll have to pay me.

[It's a pirate ship, Chase. There's a price, and they've already discussed that Carla makes it difficult to understand what she wants.]

[That response, at least, is one he's taking a while to work through.]

For access, or—?

[She almost looks amused.]

I'll let you guess.

Maybe if I knew the price.

[She stops at the end of the wooden plank, blocking it off as she turns to face him.]

I'm flexible. What do you think you can contribute besides making it difficult for me to sleep.

[Another pause as he tries to make sense of her.]

Just donate what you're able? I didn't realise the City had a floating branch of the Salvation Army.

[He takes a step toward her barrier.]

Give me your hand.

[She's already pulled away from him once. Already left the home they share. Already cringed from him in the windows. She had meant to leave him on the steps. Her hand goes out, palm up, and she's watching him distrustfully.]

[She's pulled away from him more than once, and he's told her he's a patient man. He guides her fingertips, letting the palm follow and press down after them, against his chest settling over the place just below his clavicle where his pulse is most easily felt. He's not blind to how it's lulled her before.]

I'm not planning to keep you awake.

[Her hand flexes, although she doesn't push, her fingertips lifted away from him.]

Go home.

Don't have one. [It's a quick retort but a quiet one. While he hasn't moved back, he doesn't chase her retreating hand.] What were you hoping to get from me?

[What does she hope to get from him. That's a question she doesn't want to think about.]

Nothing. I was only curious what you'd try.

[He laughs, something oddly wounded.]

Right, god forbid you play a game anyone can win. Someone might actually wind up happy, that way. Less lonely, at least. And then you wouldn't know what to do with yourself.

Robert.

[She can still count on one hand the number of times she's called for him by name. It's not quite an apology.]

You're a problem, completely separate.

[In and of himself.]

[What does she think he's afraid enough of to keep making these attempts? Of course he's a problem.]

Separate from what? What keeps you awake at night? What makes you want to burn holes in yourself from the inside out? How separate?

[And if she didn't know before.]

[Her eyes widen, just slightly. She's confused by the way he's answered, that he would really react that much at all. And it's always more and more difficult to answer when he presses. He's a problem because she's fixated, because she cares for him. He's a problem because she's tired of being his disappointment. He's a problem because she's not going to let herself love someone who's already devoted elsewhere again; but she does.]

If I resolved everything, about him and about me. You would still be a problem.

[That's not the answer he needed, just a rephrasing. And since he's said too much by now - as if he'd barely met her, hadn't learned that her preferred method of communication involves as much self-concealment as possible - he may as well clarify.]

Your problems just put you in hospital. How separate am I from that?

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