Envy Adams (
whenshewasnice) wrote2013-10-08 10:09 pm
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Natalie's Apartment, Port-au-Prince, Haiti, Tuesday Evening
Natalie had a busy day. Quelle surprise. There'd been a package waiting for her when she'd gotten back to her apartment from various appointments and meetings and things. She hadn't had time to check it out immediately. Emails had taken precedence, and as she'd hoped a package like that was likely to be something nice, she'd been fine to wait to open it.
But by now, she had. And the first thing she realized was that it was a care package, from her parents. She hand't thought she'd exhibited any glaring signs of homesickness in talking to them a couple of days ago, but... Guess they knew. Inside were a few general things they knew she couldn't get where she was, and those were nice, but they weren't what drew her attention.
That honour went to a stack of postcards.
They were old, a little worn out at the edges, a little less the exact colour they'd been when they'd been new. They were those touristy postcards, from various Canadian cities (and a few from abroad), sent by her parents to her from their various individual work-related travels over the years. Neither of her parents had ever been away from home for more than a few days, and they'd always beat the postcards home. It had almost been a game.
She'd had the cards on her bedroom wall when she'd been younger. They didn't make her cry right now, honest. But she definitely went to put them on her bedroom wall. Again.
[ooc: NFB, but open for all the usual stuff, you already know this.]
But by now, she had. And the first thing she realized was that it was a care package, from her parents. She hand't thought she'd exhibited any glaring signs of homesickness in talking to them a couple of days ago, but... Guess they knew. Inside were a few general things they knew she couldn't get where she was, and those were nice, but they weren't what drew her attention.
That honour went to a stack of postcards.
They were old, a little worn out at the edges, a little less the exact colour they'd been when they'd been new. They were those touristy postcards, from various Canadian cities (and a few from abroad), sent by her parents to her from their various individual work-related travels over the years. Neither of her parents had ever been away from home for more than a few days, and they'd always beat the postcards home. It had almost been a game.
She'd had the cards on her bedroom wall when she'd been younger. They didn't make her cry right now, honest. But she definitely went to put them on her bedroom wall. Again.
[ooc: NFB, but open for all the usual stuff, you already know this.]
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For some reason, she had the assumption in her head that he wouldn't have had any of his own.
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Freaking Pike.
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"Okay, we don't have to," she promised, tone a bit softer. "I won't make you. Anything you do want to talk about?"
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"Not really, I guess," she said. "It was a relatively uneventful week since you left, outside of politics."
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Of course she'd analyzed it. Of course.
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"Sorry I brought it along with me even if it led to some fun," he said apologetically. "I went right back and inhaled it so it might still be lingering on my clothes."
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"Well, your clothes are really far away from me right now, so I think I'm safe," Natalie quipped. Then added, perhaps thoughtlessly, "Was it a really long week?"
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No, actually she knew.
"Worn out batteries, probably."
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Not him. Though, he'd done the solo thing a few times.
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Before her repressed questions bubbled back up and she ended up kind of frowning at her fridge door.
Didn't add anything, though.
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"I'm not sure it was one, but you're welcome."
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He had a libido, this was true.
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Well, not sexually. She didn't exactly consider him a caveman or anything.
She stared a little blankly into the fridge.
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"And how much of what you wanted did you get?" she asked, idly. Well, that's what her tone was like, anyway.
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Except he'd kind of technically just answered.
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It wasn't a detailed answer but it would answer the question. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong either.
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"Yeah."
So why the hell did that make something in her chest sink and squeeze uncomfortably? The feeling took her by surprise so much that she was glad he wasn't there with her because that meant he couldn't see how her face fell. Because it was ridiculous that it did.
She inhaled sharply, but didn't say anything else.
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