smilestopscars | A House, Currant, Maine, Wednesday

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A House, Currant, Maine, Wednesday

Today's Coterie job had been a dirty one.

No, not the fun kind.

But not the supremely unfun kind, either. Just... literally dirty. There'd been a whole lot of mud involved. It had gotten everywhere, which was why Ezra's first order of business upon getting home had been to take a long and very thorough shower.

Second order of business, upon getting out of the shower, was to throw his muddily destroyed clothes in the trash. With a great big sigh, because he'd liked that shirt, dammit. Just, you know, not enough to go through the trouble of washing it.

Third order of business? Locating clothes to wear.

[ooc: NFB due to distance. Posted with one in mind, but open before her!]

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Kathy appreciated that he wasn't running, but the fast forwarding made sense. Hell, sometimes she did, too.

She missed those few months there where she'd finally stopped being intimidated by Ez and they had been able to hang out and laugh together in between the everything else. She also missed the 'everything else' but the lack of tension between them had been--comforting.

"You know," she murmured, "this kinda sucks." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not--faster at this, I guess. I'm sorry I came back so much slower and warier and scareder, I guess." She was perfectly aware that wasn't a word, but if he could use fabulosity, she could use scareder. "I'm sorry this situation is so untenable, but that I can't pull you in or push you away."

Her hand drifted up to his mouth, pressed a finger against his lips in a 'shh' gesture. "Don't apologize. You have. And don't tell me it's all okay or that you understand. I know you do, that's not the point."

Ezra didn't argue.

In fact, Ezra didn't say anything at all. With her finger like that, why would he? Instead, he smiled behind her hand. But it didn't reach his eyes.

She was right, on all counts.

Kathy ran her finger over the fullness of his bottom lip, then dropped her hand. "Should I go?" she asked him softly. "I could go if you wanted."

God only knew it would probably be easier.

"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to," Ezra told her softly.

It was kind of a cop-out, sure, but this situation was way too complicated for anything more straight-forward.

The look Kathy gave him was also declaring that a cop-out. "You get a say in things, too, you know," she said dryly. "Like whether I continue to be in your house."

Ezra shrugged, leaning back. Small gesture, but it covered a lot of vagueness he didn't really know how to express.

"Thought you didn't like it when I made house rules."

"I'm just pointing out how many you have for someone who doesn't like them," Kathy said. "But there's a difference between house rules you make so you don't have to share cookies and house rules you make because too much for comfort right then."

Kathy was highly aware of how 'too much' she could be.

"We can always do lunch another time."

"Or, my little crumpet, you could accept that this is one of those situation where I don't want to be the one who has to make the call."

He said it lightly. Made sure to keep his tone gentle.

"Don't force me into being a part of whether you're going on staying." Because he probably wanted both. And neither, and he just didn't want to have to voice an opinion either way.

"I'd like to stay," Kathy said, just as gently. "So long as you know that I'm always okay to go if you want me to."

And that being plenty on the subject, she turned to head to look at his phone. "What did you decide on for lunch then?" tone much light and casual than a moment before.

And Ezra was grateful for that.

"Thai," he said, turning the phone more towards her, showing her the menu. "I could go for a good pad thai right about now, couldn't you?"

"Oooh, yeah I could," Kathy said, delicate finger flicking through the options. "Or a tofu massaman curry."

Or, since it was the two of them, both.

"Thai iced teas, too?"

"But of course, darling."

With his other hand, he made a theatrical gesture at the screen.

"Whatever the lady fancies, really."

"I suppose that's true," Kathy said, smiling at his theatrics. "It's my treat after all." She added the options she wanted, then returned the phone to him, gesturing him to do the same. "Tonight we feast like kings, for tomorrow we're stuck with leftovers."

Nerd.

Time for more theatrics! This time, a curious head tilt. "What is this 'leftovers' that you speak of?"

Even though he was kidding, first between him and the other foxes and then between him and the firebug in one household, leftovers had rarely been a thing.

"A myth amongst our people," Kathy teased, waving her hand through the air. "Wherein we don't eat all the now so as to eat more of it later."

Ezra snorted. "I'm unfamiliar with the concept," he said as he returned his gaze on the phone so he could send the order off. "You eat when you can, or you can't be sure you'll eat."

Whereas Kathy's mom had always made disapproving noises whenever either of her daughters had gone back for seconds, but that was the kind of comment that really brought the conversation down.

"I would offer to show it to you," she said, "but superballs don't leave very many leftovers behind, either."

"Then let's not worry about those at all," Ezra decided, resting his phone on his leg now that their order had been made. "Tomorrow's another day, with other opportunities for food."

"Now that's a good way to look at the world," Kathy agreed, relaxing back into the couch. "Fits in nicely with my stomach-centered view of the world."

Again, superball.

"It's a very good model for looking at the world."

He patted her knee, lazily.

"Food should always take center stage."

"Your ideas have merit and I'd like to subscribe to your newsletter," Kathy decided, smiling at him. "You've seen me eat. Food is one of the great pleasures of life."

And one of the few they were able to talk about without making it awkward!

For as long as Ezra could keep from making any reference to any other kinds of eating he liked to do, anyway.

But he was being pretty good about that right now.

"Hear hear," he sighed. "That's exactly what I tell Lock whenever the pantry is poorly stocked."

Oh, her brain had already gone there in a desperate attempt to sweep all those jokes and comments and associations into the back closet of her mind. Because they were going to have an easy, innocent conversation, dammit, if just to prove it was possible.

No matter how much she had enjoyed other kinds of eating he liked to do. And was good at. So very, very good at.

"Does Lock then remind you that you have a car and the ability to go grocery shopping?" she asked, amused.

"Funnily enough, no, because he knows I won't pay for even half the things that I'll bring back," Ezra replied. "And he seems to feel like that's something to frown upon."

Which it obviously wasn't. What was he supposed to do, not take things that weren't nailed down? Please.

"No, he prefers to make outrageous claims about how I'm the one who ate everything in the first place."

Kathy felt a deep and abiding kinship with Lock, even though she'd never met him.

"How dare he tell you the unvarnished truth in your own house?" Kathy said with a mock-gasp. "You should make a rule about that."

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