Loft above Luke's, Saturday

[lovemykilt]

Priestly was futzing. The apartment looked fine, he'd put away the liquor and all the empty bottles that were a natural result of living with Dean, the bed had fresh sheets on it, and there were fresh towels available if Dinah wanted to shower. He had more food than any two (or three or four or five) people could actually eat in a weekend, all set to make whatever it was Dinah might be interested in, and Dean had been warned of her impending arrival.

He was as prepared as he was going to be. So he was . . . futzing.

[ooc: expecting one!]

Comments

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Dinah groaned, forehead bonking into his shoulder, grinning. After a minute she sobered a little, and said, "Then I guess I'm telling you stuff. Just. Not all at once. Or your head will explode and there's no way I'm explaining that to your staff."

[lovemykilt]

"My head definitely looks better unexploded."

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

"Definitely." A small yawn there. Not sleepy. Nope. "People died." A pause. "I killed some of them." Dinah's eyes stayed on the TV screen, watching the doctors try to save people. "Some I couldn't save."

She was quiet for a long minute, then said, "If we're lucky, and the truth-in-propaganda campaign works over the next couple weeks, the fighting will be over. I hope. I hope, I hope."

[lovemykilt]

"That'd be good," Priestly said, using his gift for understatement. "Not fighting is way better than fighting."

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

"Yeah. It would." Dinah's voice was getting slower. "No more empty villages, dude. I just. No more. You know?"

[lovemykilt]

Empty villages. That was . . . evocative.

"No more," Priestly agreed.