(no subject)

[stilljustandrew]

Two figures emerge from the corridor that leads to the Security Office, moving slowly. It's Ava Wilson and Andrew Wells; they seem tired, or stiff, or dizzy, or possibly all three.

Wait.

Make that three figures. Sort of.

Perched on Andrew's shoulder, alert and looking around, is a familiar arachnoid shape.



[Two pups, two muns. Tag either or both!]

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

"Which one."

He looks her full in the face, letting the glass fall with a thump to the tabletop.

"Which one doesn't match."

[hadyougoing]

Ava really, really doesn't like him in this moment.

"Well we've covered basically all of them," she says dryly.

Pause.


"But.

You're the penitent one, Andrew."

[stilljustandrew]

"Yeah."

He looks down.

[hadyougoing]

She runs a finger down her glass.

After a moment, she glances to his face.

[stilljustandrew]

He glances up at the same time.



"Anyway," he says after a moment. "Yeah. I think that's what I was getting at."

[hadyougoing]

"That we're not in a story?"

[stilljustandrew]

"That I know we're not in a story."

Quiet, and calm.

[hadyougoing]

Ava nods slowly.

"Okay," she murmurs.

Listen closely, and you'll hear something like approval.

"Good."

[stilljustandrew]

"I don't know what to call this, but."

He tilts his glass, looking at the half-inch of amber liquid in it.

"Friends? Are we friends?"

[hadyougoing]

"You want me to be honest?"

[stilljustandrew]

A beat.

"Yeah." Low-voiced, but very certain. "I do."



Oh.

I do.

[hadyougoing]

"Okay.

Then I don't know what to call it either.

I don't have a lot of friends."

(She guesses she gets to count Ben now. She'd like to.

She's just not sure it's completely wise.)

[stilljustandrew]

"... well." Slowly. "Do you want to be?"

[hadyougoing]

Ava snorts-- not strictly dismissive.

She shakes her head, running a hand through her hair.

"Dude," she says, "I just want to go to bed."

[stilljustandrew]

A pause, and then a rueful tired smile.

"Yeah, come to think of it, right there with you."

[hadyougoing]

"You gonna be okay?"

A vague gesture encompasses him, his drink, and the bar as a whole, which probably stands for Baby or astral projection hangover.

[stilljustandrew]

"... yeah," he says, the word coming out on a sigh, "I think so. I'm gonna drink some more water and try and get some sleep."

A beat.

"You?"

[hadyougoing]

"Gonna go to my room," Ava decides, glancing at her half-drunk beer.

"And ... drink some more water, and try and get some sleep."

[stilljustandrew]

"'S a good plan."

He tips up his glass to drink the last of the beer.

[hadyougoing]

Ava slides slowly out of her side of the booth, taking her glass with her.

She yawns.

"Well. Baby's okay now, and I don't have a concussion, so I'm gonna call this not shabby for a day's work."

[stilljustandrew]

"I'd call it pretty good."

He sits back to look up at her, showing no sign of moving yet himself.

"Thanks again, Ava. Seriously."

[hadyougoing]

She pauses, glancing to him, and gives him a small smile.

"Let me know next time you have a ... weird, not-too-dangerous mission," she says.

"I've got a skill set. And, like I said--"

Did she?

"I had fun."

[stilljustandrew]

He looks up at her, and smiles back.

"I will," he says.

"Night, Ava."