Theresa "Tess" Servopoulos (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dog_eat_dog) wrote2013-10-21 06:30 pm
dog_eat_dog) wrote2013-10-21 06:30 pm
Entry tags:
FICLET 024
Tess decides to go for it.
"We should go catch a movie sometime," she says, coy and playful. He doesn't even see her smile at first, considering he's busy gazing off into the distance like just being is exhausting, but after a second of silence he turns to her with an almost confused expression. Go catch a movie…?
Tess laughs, hooking her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans and standing a little pigeon-toed as she looks up at him.
"That was a joke," she says.
Joel lets out a belated huff of amusement, and mutters, "Cute."
Tess feels a little annoyed. That's it? No witty banter after all those times he dressed her down in discussion? She's not going to be made to feel like a loser, especially when he's the one who hangs out outside their meeting room door, some quiet jackass looking after a guy who doesn't need or want the shadow. He's the loser. A loser who intrigues her, but a loser all the same. She's not cute, she's the fucking co-ordinator of the Fireflies' supplies. She might not be the best revolutionary, but she's feeding the revolution, and arming the revolution. Surely that deserves more than just "cute."
"I'm serious," Tess says. "Not about the movie, about going out."
Joel laughs again. For a moment, Tess wonders why the fuck she gets so interested in the tall, dark and handsome ones, but then he looks genuinely amused, even interested, though obviously still reluctant. His eyes flick to the door, hoping, maybe, that Tommy will come out of the meeting of his own volition.
"How old are you, even?" he says, finally. "Even if there was a place to go out, even if there was a point, you look a li'l young for me, sweetheart."
Tess squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. Oh, how dare he. She moves up closer in his space, right in front of him so he can't look away without turning his head right to the side.
"Old enough," she tells him.
"How old?"
Tess sizes him up.
"Thirty," she says, with conviction enough to fool anyone but him.
"Bullshit," he tells her. "Show me your ID."
"Hell no," Tess says. "I don't have to prove jack shit to you."
Joel opens his mouth as if to argue, but instead he sighs. He ignores her to extinguish his cigarette very carefully, as to not damage what's left of it, and then he slips it back into the metal cigarette box in his pocket.
"Look, can you just tell me when Tommy's gonna be done in there? I gotta talk to him."
Tess folds her arms.
"No," he says. "I ain't takin' you out in exchange."
"You could," she points out. "You'd only be gaining."
"Sweetheart, don't sell dates," Joel says, like he's her dad or something. There's something a little disappointed in his voice, but they both know there's no time for disappointment anymore. Five years after the outbreak, things are starting to feel bleaker than ever. A lot of women sell "dates" these days.
"I'm not your sweetheart," Tess says.
"But you sure wanna be," Joel replies.
Tess can't say much to that. It's a fair point, after all –– she's been interested in him since she saw him in that firefight, curious about where he learned to handle a gun like that, where he learned to fight. He's older, he's real handsome, he's got that look about him like he thinks a lot more than he says. She's only ever been into stupid bad boys, the superficial kind that her parents loathed and her brother kept scared into submission, but here's one who actually seems real.
He doesn't put up with her shit, either. Hard to find a man who'll stand toe-to-toe with her and refuse to look the other way. Hard to find a man who'll disagree with her, too, instead of pulling that old "saying what you wanna hear" shit to impress her.
Now if only he was a Firefly and hung around her crowd, instead of lingering on the edges and chasing after his little brother and only getting involved in what's going to restore civilized society when push comes to shove.
Joel looks at her like he wants an answer, even if he didn't ask a question.
Tess shrugs, looks away for a split second before fixing him with a firm look.
"You interest me, alright?"
Joel's fingers twitch like he's reaching for his cigarettes again, and he lets the silence hang for a second before nodding once.
"You're one-of-a-kind, Tess, I'll give you that," Joel says, "but you should be goin' after Tommy, not me."
"I'm not interested in Tommy," Tess informs him. Who the fuck cares if they share an age bracket and some political thought?
Joel pauses, and then nods again.
"So?" Tess says.
Joel doesn't reply. The door opens right then, and Tommy pokes his head out, almost oblivious to Joel's proximity.
"You still out here, Tess?" Tommy says.
Both Tess and Joel look 'round, and then Tommy notices them both standing together. He frowns immediately, and Tess gives a noise of protest when Joel physically takes her by the arms and moves her out of his way. He reaches for Tommy's arm shortly after and Tommy raises a hand to smack the offending fingers away.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Joel?" Tommy says.
"Tommy, I just wanna talk," Joel says, but he's already sounding frustrated.
Tommy just stiffens defensively, one hand going to Tess's shoulder.
"Come inside, Tess," he says. "We gotta finish this meeting."
"I'll be another minute," Tess says, brushing off his hand.
Tommy's eyes move to Joel, but they don't linger. He says to Tess, stressed, "Marlene's asking for you."
"Tell her I'll be a minute," Tess says, firmly.
Tommy sighs and closes the door. Tess glances to Joel, who stares at the closed door with a look like he'd been smacked in the face.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Fine," he says, gruffly. Defensively.
Somehow, she's not so sure. Tess lets it go and opts for another angle.
"So what time are you picking me up?"
"Excuse me?" Joel scowls.
She gives him a pointed look. For a moment they just look at each other, the gloomy light of the cloudy early evening sky giving everything a grey wash. Tess isn't sure if he's tired or if he just always looks that way. Joel fiddles with his cigarette box but doesn't take anything out, and Tess stands with her arms folded and a determined look.
"Two," he says, finally. "Tomorrow."
"Good," Tess says. She fishes a pen out of her pocket and reaches for his hand, which he gives her reluctantly. She writes her address on his palm in blue ink, her handwriting neat despite his calluses and the curve of his thumb, and for a moment they're so close that Tess smell the tobacco on Joel's breath. "Two. Don't got any paper on me, sorry."
Joel looks down at her address and nods, his hand lingering in hers for a second too long before she pulls away. Tess has her hand on the door handle before he can even blink, too, and she doesn't even know why he fixes her with a far-away look.
"See you then," she says with a little smirk.
A man of his word, he picks her up at two.
"We should go catch a movie sometime," she says, coy and playful. He doesn't even see her smile at first, considering he's busy gazing off into the distance like just being is exhausting, but after a second of silence he turns to her with an almost confused expression. Go catch a movie…?
Tess laughs, hooking her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans and standing a little pigeon-toed as she looks up at him.
"That was a joke," she says.
Joel lets out a belated huff of amusement, and mutters, "Cute."
Tess feels a little annoyed. That's it? No witty banter after all those times he dressed her down in discussion? She's not going to be made to feel like a loser, especially when he's the one who hangs out outside their meeting room door, some quiet jackass looking after a guy who doesn't need or want the shadow. He's the loser. A loser who intrigues her, but a loser all the same. She's not cute, she's the fucking co-ordinator of the Fireflies' supplies. She might not be the best revolutionary, but she's feeding the revolution, and arming the revolution. Surely that deserves more than just "cute."
"I'm serious," Tess says. "Not about the movie, about going out."
Joel laughs again. For a moment, Tess wonders why the fuck she gets so interested in the tall, dark and handsome ones, but then he looks genuinely amused, even interested, though obviously still reluctant. His eyes flick to the door, hoping, maybe, that Tommy will come out of the meeting of his own volition.
"How old are you, even?" he says, finally. "Even if there was a place to go out, even if there was a point, you look a li'l young for me, sweetheart."
Tess squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. Oh, how dare he. She moves up closer in his space, right in front of him so he can't look away without turning his head right to the side.
"Old enough," she tells him.
"How old?"
Tess sizes him up.
"Thirty," she says, with conviction enough to fool anyone but him.
"Bullshit," he tells her. "Show me your ID."
"Hell no," Tess says. "I don't have to prove jack shit to you."
Joel opens his mouth as if to argue, but instead he sighs. He ignores her to extinguish his cigarette very carefully, as to not damage what's left of it, and then he slips it back into the metal cigarette box in his pocket.
"Look, can you just tell me when Tommy's gonna be done in there? I gotta talk to him."
Tess folds her arms.
"No," he says. "I ain't takin' you out in exchange."
"You could," she points out. "You'd only be gaining."
"Sweetheart, don't sell dates," Joel says, like he's her dad or something. There's something a little disappointed in his voice, but they both know there's no time for disappointment anymore. Five years after the outbreak, things are starting to feel bleaker than ever. A lot of women sell "dates" these days.
"I'm not your sweetheart," Tess says.
"But you sure wanna be," Joel replies.
Tess can't say much to that. It's a fair point, after all –– she's been interested in him since she saw him in that firefight, curious about where he learned to handle a gun like that, where he learned to fight. He's older, he's real handsome, he's got that look about him like he thinks a lot more than he says. She's only ever been into stupid bad boys, the superficial kind that her parents loathed and her brother kept scared into submission, but here's one who actually seems real.
He doesn't put up with her shit, either. Hard to find a man who'll stand toe-to-toe with her and refuse to look the other way. Hard to find a man who'll disagree with her, too, instead of pulling that old "saying what you wanna hear" shit to impress her.
Now if only he was a Firefly and hung around her crowd, instead of lingering on the edges and chasing after his little brother and only getting involved in what's going to restore civilized society when push comes to shove.
Joel looks at her like he wants an answer, even if he didn't ask a question.
Tess shrugs, looks away for a split second before fixing him with a firm look.
"You interest me, alright?"
Joel's fingers twitch like he's reaching for his cigarettes again, and he lets the silence hang for a second before nodding once.
"You're one-of-a-kind, Tess, I'll give you that," Joel says, "but you should be goin' after Tommy, not me."
"I'm not interested in Tommy," Tess informs him. Who the fuck cares if they share an age bracket and some political thought?
Joel pauses, and then nods again.
"So?" Tess says.
Joel doesn't reply. The door opens right then, and Tommy pokes his head out, almost oblivious to Joel's proximity.
"You still out here, Tess?" Tommy says.
Both Tess and Joel look 'round, and then Tommy notices them both standing together. He frowns immediately, and Tess gives a noise of protest when Joel physically takes her by the arms and moves her out of his way. He reaches for Tommy's arm shortly after and Tommy raises a hand to smack the offending fingers away.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Joel?" Tommy says.
"Tommy, I just wanna talk," Joel says, but he's already sounding frustrated.
Tommy just stiffens defensively, one hand going to Tess's shoulder.
"Come inside, Tess," he says. "We gotta finish this meeting."
"I'll be another minute," Tess says, brushing off his hand.
Tommy's eyes move to Joel, but they don't linger. He says to Tess, stressed, "Marlene's asking for you."
"Tell her I'll be a minute," Tess says, firmly.
Tommy sighs and closes the door. Tess glances to Joel, who stares at the closed door with a look like he'd been smacked in the face.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Fine," he says, gruffly. Defensively.
Somehow, she's not so sure. Tess lets it go and opts for another angle.
"So what time are you picking me up?"
"Excuse me?" Joel scowls.
She gives him a pointed look. For a moment they just look at each other, the gloomy light of the cloudy early evening sky giving everything a grey wash. Tess isn't sure if he's tired or if he just always looks that way. Joel fiddles with his cigarette box but doesn't take anything out, and Tess stands with her arms folded and a determined look.
"Two," he says, finally. "Tomorrow."
"Good," Tess says. She fishes a pen out of her pocket and reaches for his hand, which he gives her reluctantly. She writes her address on his palm in blue ink, her handwriting neat despite his calluses and the curve of his thumb, and for a moment they're so close that Tess smell the tobacco on Joel's breath. "Two. Don't got any paper on me, sorry."
Joel looks down at her address and nods, his hand lingering in hers for a second too long before she pulls away. Tess has her hand on the door handle before he can even blink, too, and she doesn't even know why he fixes her with a far-away look.
"See you then," she says with a little smirk.
A man of his word, he picks her up at two.