[He isn't an entirely strange sight there, not since the decision for some 'regular, bookable time together' but she feels somewhat hesitant going up to him when she's been out taking advantage of the riots. Then again, it's her front door and it irritates her to feel barred from it, just because of him.
She pushes her hair back from her face. She looks a little better than the hunk of meat in his canvas bag.]
[He leans back, looks up, relaxed enough that he might have been out for no other reason than to enjoy the winter sunshine. He clicks his tongue softly as he sees her, but there's no frown, just a curl of his fingers to beckon her down beside him.]
[He rolls his eyes, not disagreeably, and leans in toward her.]
You know why. [Not because it's a backslide, not really. Burning that picture wasn't a step backwards to his mind - though these bruises could be. But if they're a coping mechanism well - he wants her to cope.] Why mess with a long history of turning up to irritate you when you want to be left thinking no one gives a damn.
[She controls a long, slow inhale. She's really beyond the stage of thinking no one gives a damn. It is, much to her aggravation, what keeps her on a more steady current these days. However, it is true that when she's angry at herself, it fits much more neatly into her sense of vindication to assume everyone else will find her just as disgusting. So he's right, in the end, and she takes it because he cares.]
[Oh. Her hand creeps up to her collarbones uncomfortably, feeling out the shape around her throat. He's watching, so she doesn't curl her fingernails down. She had been rather steadfastly denying her knowledge of the day's curse, but she knows her own miserable little heart when she sees it.]
It does.
[She knows it does. It wasn't really a secret that there was a sick part of her heart still pining.]
It was waiting for me. [There's a second heart on display, tucked into his heartsleeve without fuss. Just a little cufflink, made of slightly tarnished gold and... missing pieces. All but out of sight as he curls his arms around the bowl.] Thought I'd better take care of it.
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She pushes her hair back from her face. She looks a little better than the hunk of meat in his canvas bag.]
Hi.
[The tone is low, wary but not aggressive.]
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[He leans back, looks up, relaxed enough that he might have been out for no other reason than to enjoy the winter sunshine. He clicks his tongue softly as he sees her, but there's no frown, just a curl of his fingers to beckon her down beside him.]
Anything need sewing back up?
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I don't think so.
[She's mostly bruised, any cuts are shallow if still wet.]
It must be busy at the hospital.
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Not yet, but I'm expecting a long night.
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Eagerly anticipating.
[And then gives his pager a quietly snide look. Pagers. Hah.]
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[His may be adrenaline more than it is trauma surgery, but they're excellent natural bedfellows. He shows her the uneventful screen.]
I've said only full scale crises before eight.
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So why aren't you at home practicing in your mirror.
[She still isn't that thrilled about being caught in a backwards slide, which has more to do with frustration with herself than with Chase.]
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You know why. [Not because it's a backslide, not really. Burning that picture wasn't a step backwards to his mind - though these bruises could be. But if they're a coping mechanism well - he wants her to cope.] Why mess with a long history of turning up to irritate you when you want to be left thinking no one gives a damn.
Oh, and I wanted you to check a colour match.
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The color of what?
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So he settles it on his knees.]
Kind of matches that stain, doesn't it?
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It does.
[She knows it does. It wasn't really a secret that there was a sick part of her heart still pining.]
Where did you find it.
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[Well. They know who and what, so she just reaches with her other hand, hesitantly pressing a fingertip to the organ to test its temperature.]
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[Ironic considering that's where she's been without it.]
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[Sort of. Even if she had frequently wished it would just disappear entirely.]
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...yes.
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Okay.
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I liked the candy hearts better.
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[Candy. For one.]