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(no subject)

They'd stayed up late that night. Enough so that Kim overslept a little the next morning, and had to scramble to have the clinic open at nine.

(There'd been time for coffee, of course, and even a bit of chatter over breakfast, but without even discussing it, both of them had silently agreed to leave any significant conversations for later.)

But now she's headed home again, and Kim finds that she's smiling to herself as she walks up the path toward the house.

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She has the presence of mind to switch the burner to low before she turns around, looking up at him.

Kim Ford's not the shy sort, not really, but some things are different.

"Um," she starts, less than helpfully.

Well, it's nice to know that he's not the only one not exactly sure of what to say.

. . . which does, however, put a little more of the responsibility of saying something helpful on him.

"I'm really glad I'm here," he repeats, finally, and looks at her nose instead of her eyes, because it's a lot easier to get stuck and tongue-tied when he's looking at her eyes. "And I'm going to be glad, just to be here, doesn't matter -"

He takes breath, and says, with sudden decisiveness, "Look, Kim - I'm here in your space. What happens next - you set the terms for it."

She lets out a breath that's half a laugh.

"I don't -- I wouldn't know what terms to set."

Kim shoves a lock of hair back from her face, then tries to meet his eyes.

"I... you ... you're my dearest friend. And maybe more, now, but I don't want to presume, or to do anything that'd ruin our friendship, because you're too important for that, and anyway I know you're going back soon and all, and, and just--"

"Yeah."

Dave takes a breath.

"I am."

And that's a stupid, stupid thing to think about changing.

(They don't even have mayonnaise here, he thinks, stupidly. Hasn't he handled enough culture shock for one lifetime? For twenty?

All the same.)

"And -" He becomes aware that she's searching for his eyes, and raises his gaze, just a little, to meet hers. "You're right. About all of that. The sensible thing would probably be to set it aside as a great one-time thing, like Maidalaidan or something, and call it a day, but -

"Hell," (he knew meeting her eyes was a bad idea!) "sometimes it is not easy to be sensible."

A second's hesitation, and then --

"-- do you want to? Be sensible, I mean?"

"Want? No," Dave says, without even having to think about it.

A sudden smile breaks over her face like sunshine.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Dave doesn't think anyone could help but beam ridiculously back, at that smile.

(Dave is, of course, biased.)

"I guess this would be my payback for claiming to be the sensible one, yesterday."

Kim laughs.

"Maybe it is."

A beat.

"So... I guess we'll see how things go?"

"I guess so."

It's a dumb, dumb plan, but somehow - stupidly, maybe; idiotically, he would have once said - he can't shake the feeling that no matter what . . . it's all going to be pretty much okay.

"And - well, we've got a week, right?"

"Definitely."

Kim takes a couple of steps away from the stove and goes up on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss.

"So we'll just have to make the most of it, won't we?"

His arm comes up around her, and he doesn't lower it when she steps back. (He can chop tomatoes one-handed, right?)

Grinning like an idiot: "That plan works for me."

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