Tess bets goading —— not that he’s immune to that ol’ Texas brand of paternalism, but this many years in, it slides off her like nothing. She’s the one pretending at being a homemaker, anyway, they each have their parts.

If it left this shitty little apartment, she’d have words, but here she laughs dismissively, leaning a hip against the counter.

“A masterpiece of what, over-acting?” she drawls, picking up her glass and raising it to his in a silent cheers. “Isn’t it just Die Hard on a plane? Come on, Tex.”

She knocks back half of her drink.

She will fight with him over movies any day, without hesitation, but it is more fun drunk.