It's as if neither of them can help smirking, as the amusement and tension between them is contagious.

"Yeah, I've got pretty thick skin," he assures her with a low chuckle.

He notices her staring, but pretends not to. He wonders what's on her mind. Tommy? Someone else? Something else? Something about him, about-- everything that's happened over the course of the day?

It feels so strange. Like he's already felt what he's feeling for her. It's getting hard to think of her as pretty much still a stranger, but he wishes he knew where all this was coming from.

(From Tommy.)

He nods, and waits for her to leave the room before he starts to change clothes.

Even the modesty in front of her feels odd.


Fairly soon he emerges from the tack room, clad in the denim overalls, his damp jeans and drawers (stuffed inside them) rolled up and tucked under an arm. The overalls are a bit baggier than he's used to, and he'd lengthened the shoulder straps an inch or two so the cuffs of the pant legs didn't look ridiculously short on him.

"How do I look?"

(Tommy wouldn't be caught dead in this getup.)