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Of cats and complications: Sabine & Scott
Following a dinner that went awry, Scott feels he needs to apologize. It turns out, maybe not so much.
Where: Sabine's quarters (shared with Scott)
When: May 25
It hadn't been hard to find something appropriate. Wherever they were, catnip was not really an option, but a cat toy in general? He'd known enough of the fuzzy tyrants to know what worked and what didn't. Cobbling together bits and pieces from the market hadn't been hard, and now he had a more or less functioning feather wand.
Not really a peace offering, Scott thought wryly, but then, flowers would probably not have gone over well.
Sabine had spent the last few days cursing herself on and off, and the net effect had been to aggravate the psi-strain she was recovering from. Of course the fact she'd spent nearly every minute alone stretching herself along her link to Shola to try to find him--so he could find her, didn't help. And neither did setting up camp in any of the usual places in her dreams in hopes of Dani finding her. She was tired, bruised and... under any sane set of circumstances, she'd be finding Scott to talk.
These circumstances being anything but, she'd been trying to talk Sal without much luck. Missy had long since grown tired of her "affection" and Sabine had just decided to go for a walk. Maybe she'd find Will or Molly, or something interesting to wear. #Or maybe you'll talk to Scott,# Sal suggested. Tsura's confirmation made her want to get up and appear to have been doing anything, but she changed her mind and re-opened her e-book instead.
The door opened and Scott stepped in. He saw Sabine reading somewhat ostentatiously, and tried not to wince. Missy's head came up as she spotted him, and he gave the feather wand a tentative shake. It tinkled - he'd found a small bell as well - and the little cat was over at his feet like a shot.
Sabine lifted her head at the sound of the bell and watched in sheer stupefaction when her usually snooty black Siamese didn't even pretend not to be interested in the toy Scott had--bought? brought? Made, she decided--made for her. "She doesn't like me that much," she offered, for the moment, amusement overtaking any other feelings. "Maybe she misses Lenny."
"Just something that occurred to me," Scott said, wiggling the wand at Missy, who batted at it with one elegant paw and then cocked her head, considering it. "I saw Laynia's cat chasing her down the hall once because she had one of these."
"Fred." Sabine laughed but it sounded forced. Not because of Scott, but because it was all suddenly so terribly sad. She rubbed one eye with the back of her wrist and glanced up at him, suddenly miserable. "I'm sorry. I should be better at this."
Scott gave her a pained look, but took a moment to prop the wand across the table and brace so that Missy could bat at it without pulling it down on her head. That accomplished, he came over and sat down beside Sabine, shaking his head. "I'm sorry too," he said quietly. "I was trying so hard to be... well, positive, that I wasn't listening to you very well."
"What?" Sabine cocked her head and screwed up her face. "Oh, dinner. That was nothing, caro. That sort of thing happens all the time between friends and roommates." It had hardly made a dent, in and of itself. "I meant being always on the verge of collapse. It's awkward and uncomfortable and I'm sorry that I keep dumping it in your lap."
Scott opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking quizzical--but almost fond, too. "Sabine..." he said slowly. "You do remember who you're talking to, yes? I am the absolute last person who would ever resent someone being traumatized, because that would make me the galaxy's largest hypocrite. It's okay. Really." A smile flickered across his features and he reached out and squeezed her hand - the not-cut one - gently. "Dump away."
For a minute, she only looked at him, felt for anything like a lie or resentment or even ambivalence from him and found nothing. "Other than to say you're not the only one who's been trying to be positive, I'm not even sure where to begin." Even though, after a fashion, she'd already told him most of it at dinner.
"It's a standing offer. Take it up now, later, or a month from now." Scott smiled a bit ruefully. "I think from the way things are going, we'll have the time."
Sabine closed her fingers around his and smiled wanly. "Maybe let's try this again, where we actually talk about what's going on, instead of you trying to be strong for me and me coming up with projects so you don't feel useless?"
Scott let his breath out on a sigh. He supposed he owed her that, in return. "I am useless," he said simply. "Everything I do well isn't necessary here. There's not even the slightest sign of anything we could do or use to get back home... I think it's finally starting to sink in that we're trapped." Again.
"As part of this conversation," Sabine began, her more usual kindness and wisdom finally finding some way to express itself that wasn't forced or overbearing (she hoped). "I won't argue with you about your usefulness or lack of, until it's all talked out. Will you promise not to try to fix what I'm feeling before we both understand it?" Because that did tend to be a problem for both of them, needing to heal each other too much.
"... yes," Scott said, with a little grimace that was half-pained, half self-deprecating. That was what he'd been trying to do, wasn't it? Subtlety, Summers. More listening than talking. "I can manage that, I think."
Sabine didn't need a telepathic link to Scott to know what he was thinking. It was all over his face. But since she'd promised not to argue, she only lifted her hand to his jaw. "You always do. It's just this place making us try too hard." Realizing too late she'd breached their unspoken agreement not to be intimate, she lowered her hand to her lap again. "I miss home. I miss Em and Dani and Betsy and Nathan..." Tears welled up in her eyes. "And Shola." Not to mention feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world because she still loved the guy who would never be her ex.
Scott's mind couldn't help but fill in other names, too. The people he missed, who seemed so far away... "I know," he said quietly. "I wish... I wish I could find a way to get us both back, to all of them."
She felt his longing and wished she could do something to make this easier on him. "I wish I could find a way to get us both back, too. But neither of us is going to find a way alone. You're not useless, Scott Summers. I need you."
"Good to be needed," he said, mustering a wan flicker of a smile. "I promise not to do anything crazy to overcompensate for feeling useless."
"I'm going to hold you to that." She smiled a little less wan and a little more wry. "I wish I could promise not to be weird, but... well, maybe if I say what's making me weird, it'll make it less weird. Honest was the plan, right?"
"I can handle weird," he said, striving for a more confident tone. "I mean, knowing what's behind it helps too, yes... we'll make this work, Sabine," he said more firmly. "We're not here alone, either of us. That's what's important right now, right?"
"Right." She ducked her head and lifted her shoulders, resignation rather than a real shrug. "I guess...I just don't know to relate to you anymore. I never believed there was an us, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't even have to give it a second thought. And... we haven't really talked since. We promised we would, but we just haven't."
"You don't think I gave it a second thought?" Scott grimaced a little, his eyes dropping. "I'm sorry if it seemed like that," he said. "I wasn't trying to be... dismissive."
"You've never been dismissive of me in your life," she chided him. As much as it had hurt, she couldn't be angry with him, not really. "I just...I love you and that's never been a bad thing for me. I know it is for you and that's made it weird for me."
"Loving you... that was never a bad thing. Betraying Jean was the bad part. I know it doesn't seem like it's very easy to separate those two," he said helplessly. "but that was part of the problem. What felt right, what felt wrong..."
"I understand it better now," she admitted with a tired sigh. "How it feels... to love two people, to feel like you're betraying a bondmate. That's the other part of this. I love him, Scott. I did my best to move on, to let you be with Jean, and I fell in love with him. And now here we are again."
"I don't think it's where we are that's the problem," Scott said with a sudden, acute understanding, "as where we are--or aren't--going. Isn't it? If we were...captive somewhere on earth, it would be one thing. We'd have a reasonable chance of being rescued, even if we couldn't get ourselves out of the situation. But we're not." His expression was briefly bleak as he looked around at the still-alien room. "We're not even in our right time. Probably not our right dimension. And setting aside a potential miracle that Franklin or Nate might pull out of their hat, things don't look very good for getting back. So we don't know what do, or feel."
"There's also the confusion for me of having been completely cut off from you emotionally for several weeks since we brought it out into the open," she replied quietly, gently, watching the line of his jaw while he stared at things that weren't there. "I think that's why I've been so wounded about this. You showed up to find me in need and took care of me, just like you have for the past two years, when I'd just begun to reconcile myself to the possibility I wouldn't even have your friendship. And for you, it's still the moment after you said you loved me out loud for the first time. I'd guess it's emotionally confusing for you to have me acting like whatever we might have been is over."
"There's really no part of this that's not confusing, Sabine," Scott said heavily, "but...yes. That's a factor. Just...give me a little time to wrap my mind around the differences. I promise I will."
Sabine sighed and reached for his hand. "I'd rather we live in the now than try to adjust to how things might be at home. Because you're right, things don't look good for getting home. And if we're stuck here... Then..." She stopped, rubbed her face with her free hand, and then smiled with a wistful open sweetness. "Maybe we can love each other without betraying anyone else."
Which was the crux of it. What neither of them had said. Sabine hadn't accepted that they weren't going back yet, but if they weren't and they were here together...
"Which is the most confusing part some days. I want to go home but I want... I want this too." There. She'd said it. And things began to swing back into clear focus again. Just like after she'd admitted it the first time, saying it freed her. Her smile became more genuine, less fraught. "There now. If you want to foreclose it and say no, never, I'll be fine and we will be. And if you don't, then we agree to let it ride until we feel like we need a decision."
She squeezed his hand and gave him a bracing smile, free of pain and anger and confusion. "Okay?"
“Okay.” He wasn’t sure he was, but this was, Scott told himself. “And I don’t want to foreclose it,” he said, telling himself, again, that honesty was best.
Sabine blinked at him, a bit stunned by that revelation. "I..." She laughed quietly into both hands that covered her face. "Wasn't expecting that to be your answer." The smile she gave him when she lifted her head was shy and soft. "That...makes things a little less confusing, surprisingly." At least she didn't feel like she was splashing unwanted feelings all over him again.
Scott managed a slightly weak laugh. "I'm all for less confusion. Maybe I shouldn't have said that right now, but it is what it is. Hiding things, or feelings seems like a bad idea in a situation like this."
"I don't think there's a guidebook for when you're trapped in a pocket universe with the mistress you didn't take," came her teasing, very-Sabine and only slightly Wicked response. And to keep that from stinging, she continued on, steady and warm, back on solid footing. "It was the right choice to tell me. This time, if and when there's a decision to make, it won't be you deciding for both of us, but us deciding together."
It did sting, a little. But he deserved it. "Together," he agreed quietly. "Whatever happens." It was either the only way they'd get home or the only way they'd make it, here. Strangely, that made it all rather simple--on some levels, at least.
"Good." Sabine rolled a series of thoughts around in her head and decided: they didn't need rules about sex because neither of them was going to let that happen accidentally, rules about other kinds of touching were juvenile and besides the point, emotional intimacy was a given, and... Ah. Yes. She caught his gaze and held it. "No more guilt about how we feel. If Shola and Jean were here, it wouldn't be an issue. They aren't, we are, and the nature of a telepath's love is to know what we need. If we end up involved and they find us after, they'll forgive and we'll all deal. I have faith in that."
"No more guilt," Scott said after a moment, even though part of him said, very clearly, easier said than done. Oh well. It was an aspirational goal, he thought, his lips twitching briefly.
The nature of Sabine's love was such that she knew her partners fears and foibles, their needs and their desires, insofar as that was possible. With Scott, and their bond, for example, she knew he'd be second-guessing himself, but he'd given her a commitment, and no one tried harder to keep their promises than Scott.
Satisfied with that, she stretched out and patted the bed beside her. "Since that's settled, I could really use to curl up and be best friends for a little while."
Scott hesitated for a moment, and then rose, moving to settle beside her a bit gingerly. He was... a little unused to casual physical contact from anyone, truthfully. "I think I can manage that," he said, trying to keep his voice light.
"Biting falls firmly on the 'lovers' side of the equation, caro. You're safe," she teased him as she moved close to him, nestling in against his side. They'd been sharing a bed for over a week, but somehow, they'd managed to keep all their parts to themselves. This felt...really restful, by contrast.
"I'm sorry," Scott said quietly, sliding an arm around her. "I don't mean to be this twitchy. Or awkward." He almost smiled. "Regressing in age, I suppose."
"Do you have any idea how often you apologize?" came her quiet rejoinder, as her body relaxed into his hold. "I'm going to start ignoring it, I think. If I need an apology for something, I promise I won't leave you in doubt about it." But his apology did spark her sense of whimsy. "What we you like as a teenager?"
"Awkward. Sullen. Pathetically starved for attention." Scott's reply was as wry as he could make it. "You wouldn't have liked me."
"That depends." Sabine grinned at him cheekily. "Were you awkward, sullen, and pathetically starved for attention in black leather, mesh and black eyeliner?"
A soft huff of laughter escaped Scott. "Nothing so appealing. Think pool-hustling car thief with a certain disdain for personal hygiene."
"Hm. I'll stick to black leather and black eyeliner." She might make it a mission to see him dressed in it for some reason. Just for the fun of it. "You do have beautiful eyes."
"I'm even getting used to seeing them in the mirror. Finally," Scott murmured, relaxing despite himself.
"That must've been so strange. How long did you have the glasses before you could go without them?" she murmured, voice low and warm, not wanting to rouse him, now that he'd finally started to relax. It felt good to be back to a place where being comfortable with each other like this was an option.
"From the time I was sixteen until.... seven years ago," Scott said and laughed again, if more wryly. "Half my life. And now I feel old."
"Mmm-hmm, caro." Sabine curled her hand over his bicep affectionately. "I've always liked older men."
Where: Sabine's quarters (shared with Scott)
When: May 25
It hadn't been hard to find something appropriate. Wherever they were, catnip was not really an option, but a cat toy in general? He'd known enough of the fuzzy tyrants to know what worked and what didn't. Cobbling together bits and pieces from the market hadn't been hard, and now he had a more or less functioning feather wand.
Not really a peace offering, Scott thought wryly, but then, flowers would probably not have gone over well.
Sabine had spent the last few days cursing herself on and off, and the net effect had been to aggravate the psi-strain she was recovering from. Of course the fact she'd spent nearly every minute alone stretching herself along her link to Shola to try to find him--so he could find her, didn't help. And neither did setting up camp in any of the usual places in her dreams in hopes of Dani finding her. She was tired, bruised and... under any sane set of circumstances, she'd be finding Scott to talk.
These circumstances being anything but, she'd been trying to talk Sal without much luck. Missy had long since grown tired of her "affection" and Sabine had just decided to go for a walk. Maybe she'd find Will or Molly, or something interesting to wear. #Or maybe you'll talk to Scott,# Sal suggested. Tsura's confirmation made her want to get up and appear to have been doing anything, but she changed her mind and re-opened her e-book instead.
The door opened and Scott stepped in. He saw Sabine reading somewhat ostentatiously, and tried not to wince. Missy's head came up as she spotted him, and he gave the feather wand a tentative shake. It tinkled - he'd found a small bell as well - and the little cat was over at his feet like a shot.
Sabine lifted her head at the sound of the bell and watched in sheer stupefaction when her usually snooty black Siamese didn't even pretend not to be interested in the toy Scott had--bought? brought? Made, she decided--made for her. "She doesn't like me that much," she offered, for the moment, amusement overtaking any other feelings. "Maybe she misses Lenny."
"Just something that occurred to me," Scott said, wiggling the wand at Missy, who batted at it with one elegant paw and then cocked her head, considering it. "I saw Laynia's cat chasing her down the hall once because she had one of these."
"Fred." Sabine laughed but it sounded forced. Not because of Scott, but because it was all suddenly so terribly sad. She rubbed one eye with the back of her wrist and glanced up at him, suddenly miserable. "I'm sorry. I should be better at this."
Scott gave her a pained look, but took a moment to prop the wand across the table and brace so that Missy could bat at it without pulling it down on her head. That accomplished, he came over and sat down beside Sabine, shaking his head. "I'm sorry too," he said quietly. "I was trying so hard to be... well, positive, that I wasn't listening to you very well."
"What?" Sabine cocked her head and screwed up her face. "Oh, dinner. That was nothing, caro. That sort of thing happens all the time between friends and roommates." It had hardly made a dent, in and of itself. "I meant being always on the verge of collapse. It's awkward and uncomfortable and I'm sorry that I keep dumping it in your lap."
Scott opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking quizzical--but almost fond, too. "Sabine..." he said slowly. "You do remember who you're talking to, yes? I am the absolute last person who would ever resent someone being traumatized, because that would make me the galaxy's largest hypocrite. It's okay. Really." A smile flickered across his features and he reached out and squeezed her hand - the not-cut one - gently. "Dump away."
For a minute, she only looked at him, felt for anything like a lie or resentment or even ambivalence from him and found nothing. "Other than to say you're not the only one who's been trying to be positive, I'm not even sure where to begin." Even though, after a fashion, she'd already told him most of it at dinner.
"It's a standing offer. Take it up now, later, or a month from now." Scott smiled a bit ruefully. "I think from the way things are going, we'll have the time."
Sabine closed her fingers around his and smiled wanly. "Maybe let's try this again, where we actually talk about what's going on, instead of you trying to be strong for me and me coming up with projects so you don't feel useless?"
Scott let his breath out on a sigh. He supposed he owed her that, in return. "I am useless," he said simply. "Everything I do well isn't necessary here. There's not even the slightest sign of anything we could do or use to get back home... I think it's finally starting to sink in that we're trapped." Again.
"As part of this conversation," Sabine began, her more usual kindness and wisdom finally finding some way to express itself that wasn't forced or overbearing (she hoped). "I won't argue with you about your usefulness or lack of, until it's all talked out. Will you promise not to try to fix what I'm feeling before we both understand it?" Because that did tend to be a problem for both of them, needing to heal each other too much.
"... yes," Scott said, with a little grimace that was half-pained, half self-deprecating. That was what he'd been trying to do, wasn't it? Subtlety, Summers. More listening than talking. "I can manage that, I think."
Sabine didn't need a telepathic link to Scott to know what he was thinking. It was all over his face. But since she'd promised not to argue, she only lifted her hand to his jaw. "You always do. It's just this place making us try too hard." Realizing too late she'd breached their unspoken agreement not to be intimate, she lowered her hand to her lap again. "I miss home. I miss Em and Dani and Betsy and Nathan..." Tears welled up in her eyes. "And Shola." Not to mention feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world because she still loved the guy who would never be her ex.
Scott's mind couldn't help but fill in other names, too. The people he missed, who seemed so far away... "I know," he said quietly. "I wish... I wish I could find a way to get us both back, to all of them."
She felt his longing and wished she could do something to make this easier on him. "I wish I could find a way to get us both back, too. But neither of us is going to find a way alone. You're not useless, Scott Summers. I need you."
"Good to be needed," he said, mustering a wan flicker of a smile. "I promise not to do anything crazy to overcompensate for feeling useless."
"I'm going to hold you to that." She smiled a little less wan and a little more wry. "I wish I could promise not to be weird, but... well, maybe if I say what's making me weird, it'll make it less weird. Honest was the plan, right?"
"I can handle weird," he said, striving for a more confident tone. "I mean, knowing what's behind it helps too, yes... we'll make this work, Sabine," he said more firmly. "We're not here alone, either of us. That's what's important right now, right?"
"Right." She ducked her head and lifted her shoulders, resignation rather than a real shrug. "I guess...I just don't know to relate to you anymore. I never believed there was an us, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't even have to give it a second thought. And... we haven't really talked since. We promised we would, but we just haven't."
"You don't think I gave it a second thought?" Scott grimaced a little, his eyes dropping. "I'm sorry if it seemed like that," he said. "I wasn't trying to be... dismissive."
"You've never been dismissive of me in your life," she chided him. As much as it had hurt, she couldn't be angry with him, not really. "I just...I love you and that's never been a bad thing for me. I know it is for you and that's made it weird for me."
"Loving you... that was never a bad thing. Betraying Jean was the bad part. I know it doesn't seem like it's very easy to separate those two," he said helplessly. "but that was part of the problem. What felt right, what felt wrong..."
"I understand it better now," she admitted with a tired sigh. "How it feels... to love two people, to feel like you're betraying a bondmate. That's the other part of this. I love him, Scott. I did my best to move on, to let you be with Jean, and I fell in love with him. And now here we are again."
"I don't think it's where we are that's the problem," Scott said with a sudden, acute understanding, "as where we are--or aren't--going. Isn't it? If we were...captive somewhere on earth, it would be one thing. We'd have a reasonable chance of being rescued, even if we couldn't get ourselves out of the situation. But we're not." His expression was briefly bleak as he looked around at the still-alien room. "We're not even in our right time. Probably not our right dimension. And setting aside a potential miracle that Franklin or Nate might pull out of their hat, things don't look very good for getting back. So we don't know what do, or feel."
"There's also the confusion for me of having been completely cut off from you emotionally for several weeks since we brought it out into the open," she replied quietly, gently, watching the line of his jaw while he stared at things that weren't there. "I think that's why I've been so wounded about this. You showed up to find me in need and took care of me, just like you have for the past two years, when I'd just begun to reconcile myself to the possibility I wouldn't even have your friendship. And for you, it's still the moment after you said you loved me out loud for the first time. I'd guess it's emotionally confusing for you to have me acting like whatever we might have been is over."
"There's really no part of this that's not confusing, Sabine," Scott said heavily, "but...yes. That's a factor. Just...give me a little time to wrap my mind around the differences. I promise I will."
Sabine sighed and reached for his hand. "I'd rather we live in the now than try to adjust to how things might be at home. Because you're right, things don't look good for getting home. And if we're stuck here... Then..." She stopped, rubbed her face with her free hand, and then smiled with a wistful open sweetness. "Maybe we can love each other without betraying anyone else."
Which was the crux of it. What neither of them had said. Sabine hadn't accepted that they weren't going back yet, but if they weren't and they were here together...
"Which is the most confusing part some days. I want to go home but I want... I want this too." There. She'd said it. And things began to swing back into clear focus again. Just like after she'd admitted it the first time, saying it freed her. Her smile became more genuine, less fraught. "There now. If you want to foreclose it and say no, never, I'll be fine and we will be. And if you don't, then we agree to let it ride until we feel like we need a decision."
She squeezed his hand and gave him a bracing smile, free of pain and anger and confusion. "Okay?"
“Okay.” He wasn’t sure he was, but this was, Scott told himself. “And I don’t want to foreclose it,” he said, telling himself, again, that honesty was best.
Sabine blinked at him, a bit stunned by that revelation. "I..." She laughed quietly into both hands that covered her face. "Wasn't expecting that to be your answer." The smile she gave him when she lifted her head was shy and soft. "That...makes things a little less confusing, surprisingly." At least she didn't feel like she was splashing unwanted feelings all over him again.
Scott managed a slightly weak laugh. "I'm all for less confusion. Maybe I shouldn't have said that right now, but it is what it is. Hiding things, or feelings seems like a bad idea in a situation like this."
"I don't think there's a guidebook for when you're trapped in a pocket universe with the mistress you didn't take," came her teasing, very-Sabine and only slightly Wicked response. And to keep that from stinging, she continued on, steady and warm, back on solid footing. "It was the right choice to tell me. This time, if and when there's a decision to make, it won't be you deciding for both of us, but us deciding together."
It did sting, a little. But he deserved it. "Together," he agreed quietly. "Whatever happens." It was either the only way they'd get home or the only way they'd make it, here. Strangely, that made it all rather simple--on some levels, at least.
"Good." Sabine rolled a series of thoughts around in her head and decided: they didn't need rules about sex because neither of them was going to let that happen accidentally, rules about other kinds of touching were juvenile and besides the point, emotional intimacy was a given, and... Ah. Yes. She caught his gaze and held it. "No more guilt about how we feel. If Shola and Jean were here, it wouldn't be an issue. They aren't, we are, and the nature of a telepath's love is to know what we need. If we end up involved and they find us after, they'll forgive and we'll all deal. I have faith in that."
"No more guilt," Scott said after a moment, even though part of him said, very clearly, easier said than done. Oh well. It was an aspirational goal, he thought, his lips twitching briefly.
The nature of Sabine's love was such that she knew her partners fears and foibles, their needs and their desires, insofar as that was possible. With Scott, and their bond, for example, she knew he'd be second-guessing himself, but he'd given her a commitment, and no one tried harder to keep their promises than Scott.
Satisfied with that, she stretched out and patted the bed beside her. "Since that's settled, I could really use to curl up and be best friends for a little while."
Scott hesitated for a moment, and then rose, moving to settle beside her a bit gingerly. He was... a little unused to casual physical contact from anyone, truthfully. "I think I can manage that," he said, trying to keep his voice light.
"Biting falls firmly on the 'lovers' side of the equation, caro. You're safe," she teased him as she moved close to him, nestling in against his side. They'd been sharing a bed for over a week, but somehow, they'd managed to keep all their parts to themselves. This felt...really restful, by contrast.
"I'm sorry," Scott said quietly, sliding an arm around her. "I don't mean to be this twitchy. Or awkward." He almost smiled. "Regressing in age, I suppose."
"Do you have any idea how often you apologize?" came her quiet rejoinder, as her body relaxed into his hold. "I'm going to start ignoring it, I think. If I need an apology for something, I promise I won't leave you in doubt about it." But his apology did spark her sense of whimsy. "What we you like as a teenager?"
"Awkward. Sullen. Pathetically starved for attention." Scott's reply was as wry as he could make it. "You wouldn't have liked me."
"That depends." Sabine grinned at him cheekily. "Were you awkward, sullen, and pathetically starved for attention in black leather, mesh and black eyeliner?"
A soft huff of laughter escaped Scott. "Nothing so appealing. Think pool-hustling car thief with a certain disdain for personal hygiene."
"Hm. I'll stick to black leather and black eyeliner." She might make it a mission to see him dressed in it for some reason. Just for the fun of it. "You do have beautiful eyes."
"I'm even getting used to seeing them in the mirror. Finally," Scott murmured, relaxing despite himself.
"That must've been so strange. How long did you have the glasses before you could go without them?" she murmured, voice low and warm, not wanting to rouse him, now that he'd finally started to relax. It felt good to be back to a place where being comfortable with each other like this was an option.
"From the time I was sixteen until.... seven years ago," Scott said and laughed again, if more wryly. "Half my life. And now I feel old."
"Mmm-hmm, caro." Sabine curled her hand over his bicep affectionately. "I've always liked older men."