Part of her actually sort of expected him to just not show up.
It wouldn't be entirely out of character, though it would give her ammunition for years, and far too much opportunity to mock him for cowardice in the face of a discussion about a relationship when he's the last person she knows who would run from a fight.
But this isn't a fight: there's no one here he can hit or shoot or arrest to make it better; the problem isn't going to go away just because he looks it in the eye and doesn't flinch. Regulations exist for a reason. They're bigger than her, bigger than him, bigger than ambition or personal preference. You put on the uniform, carry the badge, you're expected to follow the rules. And Steve -- well, he excels at breaking or bending plenty of the rules that exist seemingly just to get in his way, but this is one that'll hit back, if he tries.
So she's actually mildly surprised when she looks up and finds him, half a head taller than anyone else currently standing, pulling a pleased smile across her mouth that warms her eyes just like it always has.
She might be concerned. She might disapprove, of the rule-breaking, if not the person said breaking is being done for. But it's still good to see him, to be on the same rock as him, however long it lasts, and that doesn't change, no matter what else between the two of them does.
"I almost thought you were going to stand me up," she says, turning her face up to him with a cheeky glint in her eye, stirring the ice in her glass and the brilliantly blue liquid there, too, with the umbrella that came propped up in the drink. "Relax, Steve. I left the firing squad back at base."
no subject
It wouldn't be entirely out of character, though it would give her ammunition for years, and far too much opportunity to mock him for cowardice in the face of a discussion about a relationship when he's the last person she knows who would run from a fight.
But this isn't a fight: there's no one here he can hit or shoot or arrest to make it better; the problem isn't going to go away just because he looks it in the eye and doesn't flinch. Regulations exist for a reason. They're bigger than her, bigger than him, bigger than ambition or personal preference. You put on the uniform, carry the badge, you're expected to follow the rules. And Steve -- well, he excels at breaking or bending plenty of the rules that exist seemingly just to get in his way, but this is one that'll hit back, if he tries.
So she's actually mildly surprised when she looks up and finds him, half a head taller than anyone else currently standing, pulling a pleased smile across her mouth that warms her eyes just like it always has.
She might be concerned. She might disapprove, of the rule-breaking, if not the person said breaking is being done for. But it's still good to see him, to be on the same rock as him, however long it lasts, and that doesn't change, no matter what else between the two of them does.
"I almost thought you were going to stand me up," she says, turning her face up to him with a cheeky glint in her eye, stirring the ice in her glass and the brilliantly blue liquid there, too, with the umbrella that came propped up in the drink. "Relax, Steve. I left the firing squad back at base."