[Hers. That works. She straightens things up, puts two glasses on the table, and answers the door in a low-cut t-shirt. It's easy to slip right into a smile.]
[Tess doesn't sit down, stopped with a hand on the back of her chair. Skepticism ghosts over her face and then vanishes, leaving her smile just the slightest bit tighter. A beat passes and she sits.
[She contemplates just saying "no." It would be interesting, wouldn't it, being the one to shut down a conversation in its infancy, and then blow it off forever?
Somehow it just wouldn't work out that way. She knows that, too.
Tess... [He just fixes her with a look because he really doesn't want to have this conversation either, dammit. He expected pushback, though, so he takes a drink before answering.]
Arthur and Trouble both know about us. Which don't bother me too much, long as it don't bother you. That ain't what I meant. [Another drink.] But Arthur brought somethin' up I thought I told ya. Somethin' he said you don't know. So we can start with that and whatever comes next-
[Her jaw sets as she watches him across the table. Too much? Even if it stayed a secret forever, it'd be fine as long as they were on the same page, but would something about people knowing bother him no matter what?
She shuts herself down before she overthinks it, especially when there's something she doesn't know, but Arthur does.
[Jake, prone to underthinking, stares across at Tess, prone to overthinking, for a moment as he takes a long drink.]
I was married. [He looks up at her.] She...died. Figured I had said somethin' to you. Arthur said you didn't. It wasn't meant to be a lie. [But they hadn't met in the traditional way. Hadn't gotten to know each other in the way that he had gotten to know Arthur. Or B. Or Misty.]
[The last shred of reason in her says: it's fine. You're of a certain age. So are the men you like. How many men are unmarried by their forties, especially in places that haven't had society collapse? How many haven't fathered children? It's just the rule of numbers. Men get married and they fuck.
But the rest of her just feels furious. Maybe she hasn't been lied to, and sure, the bitch is dead. Sometimes people die and sometimes the survivors don't want to talk about it, especially when they've got someone new in their lap, teasing them about first kisses.
But how many fucking times is this going to happen? Is she just doomed to be interested in a man who will pick the baggage over her every time?
There's heat on her voice.]
Yeah? Every time we talk, it's all "I don't have memories" and shit, but now you had a wife?
[He pushes his hat up from his head. He meets her hostility with his own mild defensiveness. At least for now.]
What do you want me to tell you, huh? It's shit I try and forget. If I remembered somethin' other than her last fuckin' minutes, maybe it'd be different.
[Their last fight and then her dying. That's all he knows and he hates it.]
[No answer could make her happy; there's something to hate about every single option. Oh, you don't care about your wife? You just fucking move on, say your wife's life means less than a bunch of strangers, like some deranged trolley problem?]
So much for loyalty.
[But she might have thrown her glass at him if he'd said it was for the wife.
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Hey, you.
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Hey, beautiful. How are you doin'?
[It's hard not to want to move right back into what's been normal. Eventually they can talk. For now, he can pretend a few seconds longer.]
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I'm good. Keeping busy. [Business as usual.] You?
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Teachin' Trouble how to ride.
[And getting put through the ringer. But that usually goes unsaid.]
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Sounds like a nightmare, it's hard enough without a tail.
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They did better than you.
[Teasing, light. He opens the bottle and pours them two glasses. Trying to keep it from getting serious too fast.]
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[But at least she can say it with a smile.]
I'm getting better.
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Yeah? Arthur say that? I trust it if he says it.
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Lightly:]
You taking Arthur's word over mine now?
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[He had meant it as a joke, but he sits back, knowing it can't be avoided.]
We gotta talk about it, Tess. Might as well be now.
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Somehow it just wouldn't work out that way. She knows that, too.
But she can at least make him spell it out.]
About what?
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Arthur and Trouble both know about us. Which don't bother me too much, long as it don't bother you. That ain't what I meant. [Another drink.] But Arthur brought somethin' up I thought I told ya. Somethin' he said you don't know. So we can start with that and whatever comes next-
[He doesn't know what comes next.]
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She shuts herself down before she overthinks it, especially when there's something she doesn't know, but Arthur does.
Why does this keep happening?]
What, exactly, don't I know?
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I was married. [He looks up at her.] She...died. Figured I had said somethin' to you. Arthur said you didn't. It wasn't meant to be a lie. [But they hadn't met in the traditional way. Hadn't gotten to know each other in the way that he had gotten to know Arthur. Or B. Or Misty.]
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But the rest of her just feels furious. Maybe she hasn't been lied to, and sure, the bitch is dead. Sometimes people die and sometimes the survivors don't want to talk about it, especially when they've got someone new in their lap, teasing them about first kisses.
But how many fucking times is this going to happen? Is she just doomed to be interested in a man who will pick the baggage over her every time?
There's heat on her voice.]
Yeah? Every time we talk, it's all "I don't have memories" and shit, but now you had a wife?
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Don't have memories, Tess. Still don't.
And I said I thought I told you. Don't remember anything except her fucking dyin'. Not exactly something I want to bring up at every conversation.
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[She leans back in her seat, as though a few more inches away from him will make her any less hostile.]
Except Arthur gets to know, of course. You remember that. You two must talk a lot if he guessed I didn't know from one fucking conversation about you.
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What do you want me to tell you, huh? It's shit I try and forget. If I remembered somethin' other than her last fuckin' minutes, maybe it'd be different.
[Their last fight and then her dying. That's all he knows and he hates it.]
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Yeah? What's your deal for?
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What does it matter?
[He stands up to pour himself another drink.]
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If your wife matters, then it matters. What's your deal?
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She matters, but the people trapped in that fuckin' ship matter, too. All of 'em. Deal's to save them and get the aliens off the fuckin' planet.
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So much for loyalty.
[But she might have thrown her glass at him if he'd said it was for the wife.
She scoffs.]
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Loyalty? What the hell does loyalty have to do with anything?
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[Tess feels so frustrated that she has to stand up to pace, to move, to do something other than sit there and look at him.]
What do I care? I don't even know her. Or you, actually.
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