simon_doctor | (no subject)

[It's a few days before the reply comes.]

Quit blowing my cover. I gave you a perfectly adequate excuse for leaving without saying goodbye.

You did. I don't think Kaylee suspected a thing.

So quit blowing my cover.

This doesn't answer my question.

[Another two days pass.]

Here's an honest question. Do you believe you get to pick up where you left off with everything here?

[Not until the following day --]

I was worried about you and I still am.

I should have respected the line you've drawn, nevertheless. I'm sorry for that.

I don't know if picking up where we left off is even possible.

The question was more general.

Then I don't know how to answer it.

Except by repeating that I don't know if it's possible.

The answer is that we haven't known each other for five years. Since then I suspect we've both developed certain fault lines that the other doesn't know about. Don't tread on mine any more.

And I won't tread on yours.

[Close to midnight, that night:]

That seems fair.

[He looks at the sentence for several minutes, sighs, and sends it.]

[There's no reply.]

[About four days later:]

We haven't known each other for five years. It's only going to get longer if we stop talking.

I don't want that. I hope you don't either.

Fine. Wednesday night I'll be at Costello's at seven, as usual. If you're free, it's never crowded.

(no subject)

simon_doctor - 2009-04-20 02:47 (UTC) - Expand

Wednesday at seven-thirteen.

Jordie has heavy, dark circles under his eyes.

He's sitting in a booth, smoking. A slice of pie is in front of him, untouched.

The door opens and Simon steps in, scanning the tables.

Catches sight of Jordie, pauses a fraction of a second, and heads in his direction.

Jordie glances up when Simon gets closer.

He exhales, and taps into the ashtray. "Ni hao."

"Wei."

He slides into the seat opposite Jordie, and doesn't say anything for a moment.

("You look terrible" does not strike him as a wise thing to say.)

"Pie's good," he says.

(His is still untouched.)

"Maybe I'll have some."

He doesn't make a move toward the menu, yet.

Jordie inhales, tilts his head back, exhales smoke.

Quietly: "Kaylee sends regards."

Without any inflection: "How much does she know?"

"Only that you had trouble sleeping, the night you stayed with us." Equally level. "She attributed it to what she already knows. I didn't give her any reason to think there was anything more to it than that."

Jordie nods, and taps into the ashtray again.

"Well." And now it's a little acerbic. "What's new in the life of Simon Tam?"

"Not very much. We're moving into the last unit of the class. Hard to believe it's nearly over."

He's not going to bring up the most recent events. Under the circumstances.

"And you?"