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Post by Wes Uccello on Feb 13, 2011 0:39:03 GMT -8
Wes felt a bit awkward now. She was annoyed, but the reasons weren't obvious to him and she wasn't taking it out on him. She was trying to deal with it on her own, so he let her.
"That's usually the case, but when the guy can put you away it kind of does matter whether they believe you or not," he said, and sighed.
He seemed to have abandoned the pretend shelf-searching for now, but eye contact still wasn't happening.
"Eh. I didn't really want to ruin this something-resembling-a-thing already." He smirked. "Not to mention, if I piss you off now, you can go to the agent and tell him that I came up and wrestled information out of you."
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Feb 14, 2011 0:08:12 GMT -8
Charlotte sagged against the bookshelf. I definitely should have stayed in bed. At least Wes appeared to be leaving it alone for the time being. Yes, it was a very good thing that this conversation would never get mentioned to David. She raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well, luckily you have me to run interference. With David at least. So that’s something.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear again. She was still semi-positioned in front of him, and she couldn’t be bothered to move. He would have to deal. She dropped her gaze from his face to his shoulder. At his words she smirked.
“True, this something-resembling-a-thing is very new. And I don’t know that you’ll believe me, but I wouldn’t do that. I get pissed off; I take care of things myself.” Charlotte glanced at his face, looking amused, her smirk growing. “Your ‘wrestling information out of me’ also implies I couldn’t take you.” She paused. “Or that you could take me. Either or.” That playful tone was back in her voice.
At least they were hopefully slipping back to the bantering. And farther away from talking about what happened at the lumber mill.
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Post by Wes Uccello on Feb 17, 2011 22:07:57 GMT -8
Indeed, Wes wasn't interested in pursuing the subject any further right now. It just seemed like too much trouble, he told himself. He liked her better comfortable and snarky. It was less.. personal.
He raised an eyebrow himself at her comment. "But how do you run interference without him knowing that I talked to you?" He rubbed his chin. "Do you just say, 'gee, maybe you should go easier on that ass from breakfast'? I don't think he's so stupid that he won't notice you bringing me up."
Charlotte was making herself comfortable in her new closer-to-him position, avoiding his eyes in a familiar way. Now that he'd given up on pretending to look at books, he turned around and leaned against the shelf.
"How very admirable. And, hey... I got it out of you, didn't I?" He grinned. "You'd be making up the story anyway, you could say that I made a cheap shot."
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Feb 18, 2011 0:18:35 GMT -8
They were finally back on more comfortable, snarky footing. And Charlotte appreciated it. The last of the tension eased out of her shoulders. They had finally left talk of the lumber mill behind. For good, she hoped... suspected. At least for this conversation. She had no doubt that if something weird happened to him he would probably broach the subject again. Though she hoped Wes didn’t meet the Smoking Man for a long while.
She glanced at him sideways, looking amused. “Yes, because I’d be that bloody obvious about it. Give me a little credit.” Charlotte smirked. Apparently he thought she’d be running interference for him like a Scooby Doo villain. If it weren’t for that meddling falconer, she thought with some amusement.
He turned around and leaned against the bookshelf, not moving away from her as she had expected. She was close enough to poke him in the ribs if she wanted to. Not that she would, but the fact that he hadn’t put more space between them as soon as she’d finished telling him what happened in the lumber mill surprised her a bit.
She grinned back. “You have a point, as much as I am loath to admit it. Though the making a cheap shot line wouldn’t work. David knows me too well. I’d have to come up with a better story than that. Not that I need to. Not going to go telling him all about our conversation.”
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Post by Wes Uccello on Feb 19, 2011 23:08:22 GMT -8
Wes still hadn't suspected anything "odd" in her story, or in the town in general. If he experienced something, would he remember this? Maybe. Maybe not.
He arched his eyebrow at her. "You might have noticed that I'm not in the habit of giving people much credit," he said, returning her smirk. "Can't go assuming that people will do things right, can you?"
Now, he seemed unsure what to do; it was a conversation without the buffer of breakfast, a book or a bird. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to try and see what books she was holding anyway.
"True, no need to waste the time I guess. Of course, if you do tell him, I'll be awfully upset." He flashed his teeth. "I have to trust you on this one." Trust... wasn't exactly his strong suit, and you could tell it in his voice.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Feb 20, 2011 1:26:59 GMT -8
Charlotte raised an eyebrow back at him, the slightest bit of a smile on her face. “I’ve noticed. And generally, assuming that people can do things right is a bad idea. But there’s a difference between that and thinking that I’m going to go about this whole running interference thing like a Scooby Doo villain.”
Noticing him try to catch a glimpse of the books she was holding in her arm, she grinned, and didn’t make it any easier for him to see the titles. It wasn’t quite tucking them out of the way playfully, but it was damn close.
She blinked in surprise when he mentioned having to trust her to not tell David. Well... that was something, wasn’t it. She could hear how little he was accustomed to actually having to trust someone in his voice. It was odd, but the fact that he was trying to trust her meant a lot.
“I won’t tell him,” she replied, voice serious. She wouldn’t break his trust. She suspected that once lost, it was nigh impossible to get back. And for some reason she didn’t want that to happen. “I know you probably doubt me... but I guess you’ll have to see for yourself.”
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Post by Wes Uccello on Mar 4, 2011 22:39:53 GMT -8
Wes looked at her in a mock-serious sort of way. "How is it different? Like a Scooby Doo villain is the wrong way, isn't it?" It was an honest question, but he didn't quite ask it like one.
He gave an exaggerated sigh at her grin as he tried to peek at the books. He caught only the beginnings of the titles - "The St" and "Alice" - and figured that he could guess at least one of them. "Catching up on your children's literature?"
The seriousness of her response surprised him. It was almost like she was taking some stock in him. "I don't really have a choice, do I?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and running his hand through his hair.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Mar 5, 2011 21:06:08 GMT -8
Back to the snark and banter. Charlotte smirked. “No, like a Scooby Doo villain is doing it badly.” Her smirk, grew, shifted, became impish. “And I don’t do things badly.” She was reasonably certain that it had been an honest question, even if he hadn’t exactly asked it as one. Granted, she hadn’t exactly answered like it was one.
She couldn’t help the wry laugh at his question about catching up on her children’s literature. If he ONLY knew. He’d probably look at this book differently, too. “Oh, something like that.” Studying up for the next set of puzzles that bastard decides to throw at me is more like it.
She half shrugged. “True. Sorry about that.”
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Post by Wes Uccello on Mar 13, 2011 1:21:20 GMT -8
Wes gave an exaggerated shrug with his eyebrows arch- the kind of gesture you make when you're resigning without agreeing. "Same difference," he remarked, tilting his head before raising an objection. "I don't know. Seems like you choose friends badly, for one."
The laugh struck him a pretty strange, as it obviously wasn't a laugh because she thought he'd said something particularly clever. That was the sort of laugh that meant there was something you didn't know. "What, is it some in-joke I'm not privy to?" He shrugged slightly.
He bit his lip. "I'd say that it's not your fault, except that I'd be lying."
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Mar 17, 2011 2:03:47 GMT -8
Charlotte half-shrugged. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that. I happen to believe there’s a bit of a difference between the two.”
She sighed, suddenly more than a little tired. She wouldn’t trade coming to Greenvale for anything, because it had brought David back into her life... but she was so very tired of the weirdness, of the puzzle that only seemed to gain more pieces. Of being one of a handful that seemed to have any idea that there was something more going on in this little town. “No. No in-joke.”
She tilted her head away from him, towards the sunlight streaming in the window illuminating the dust motes floating in the air. “Only partially. The rest is due to circumstances.”
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Post by Wes Uccello on Mar 25, 2011 19:37:56 GMT -8
Wes lifted his brow. "Ah, but you don't argue my other point. Okay."
All of a sudden Charlotte was bit serious. He stretched, cracking his neck and his knuckles. He wasn't tired yet. Maybe the people were a little bit tiring, but... he'd been resting for quite a while. And it's hard to be exhausted by something you have no idea is going on.
"Anyone ever told you that you're a bit odd?" he asked, offhandedly, looking up at the ceiling. It wasn't something he didn't understand, of course. His thinking made sense. She was odd.
As always, he relaxed a bit when she looked away. "True, but you can't say that circumstances initiated the conversation."
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Mar 29, 2011 22:43:22 GMT -8
There was amusement on Charlotte’s face, and she tilted her head up at him. Hair had fallen in her eye again at some point, and she tucked it behind her ear again. She should have left it alone, really. The curtain of hair would have given her a way to watch Wes without being blatant about it. Oh well.
“Didn’t see much point in arguing it. I happen to think I have impeccable taste in friends.”
That last sentence was more than a little funny, seeing as how she was suddenly hip deep in friendship possibilities. More than she’d had since leaving for college, it seemed like. And those she would claim had been acquaintances. Except maybe the dance instructor she’d met in Spain. He had become a friend. And Jake.
She blinked up at him for a moment. Then she burst into laughter. “Once. Or twice.” To her, odd was a compliment. And true, besides.
Pulling her gaze from the sunlight streaming in the window and glancing over at him, she smirked.
“No. ‘Twas my oddness that started it.”
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