are things complicated with us? i feel like we reached a comfortable understanding after the memory and psychedelic bug floods. things feel different now that you've talked to her. the way you're talking to me now is different.
if it's nothing, fine. why was she wearing your ring?
She's spent the better part of two hours pacing and smoking and fiddling with the ring on her finger, spinning it around and around, leaving a faint red mark from doing it continuously. And when the knock on the door sounds, Laura spends a few seconds staring at the door before finally getting up and answering it.
Knowing his visit wasn't going to be the kind it usually is, she opts for a simple pair of faded blue jeans, a tank top and a cardigan that was a couple of sizes too big for her; her hair draped over her shoulders in loose curls.
"Hey," Laura greets quietly, offering a small smile before ducking her head and opening the door wider for him to come through. "Come in."
The smile is nice and, honestly, a welcome surprise. It's answered in kind. While he knows this is still likely to suck in some places and may end up with him kicked out into the hall, at least she wasn't coming out swinging. He makes sure the door is closed, lingering only a few steps inside while waiting for her to decide where she wants to physically have the conversation.
"You want me ta start, or you wanna ask questions?"
It's a sincere sentiment; she'd already bristled at him trying to get ahead of things, and he's trying not to make the same mistake. Sweeney's confident there are plenty of new ones to make instead.
Ironically, coming out swinging wasn't really on her mind. Asking questions, yes, but that went without saying. He knew that was possible enough to come forward first. Had he not, she'd have found a way to inquire about the pretty blonde woman that touched the screen in an attempt for more than just a verbal connection.
Laura makes her way back to the side of the couch she normally sits, allowing him the other, if he wants it. She shakes her head.
"No, I'm okay with listening. If something comes up, I'll ask, if that's okay," she answers, reaching for her pack of cigarettes. This will be somewhere in the tenth or twelfth she's had since he'd called a couple of hours prior.
He's normally one to stand, if only so he can pace or comfortably keep his hands in his pockets. But Sweeney gets the feeling that if he does, it will only compound the discomfort, so takes a seat on the other side of the couch and turns to face her.
"She was the second person I met when I got here." In the purest sense of actual conversation.
"She an' Tiff were the ones that made sure I understood how things worked. Who wanted ta get ta..." He isn't sure of the word he's looking for, so he picks something he feels is close enough. "...know me. Have a conversation that lasted longer than it takes ta order two beers."
Sweeney pauses, but it's clear it's only to allow her to interject if she wants to; he's willing to continue if she doesn't.
It is a bit of a relief that he does sit, not for her but for him and the feeling that if he didn't, there would be a tennis match in her living room when the pacing started. There was also the feeling that he wouldn't rush through things by sitting, which she appreciates. When he turns to face her, she shifts to face him more.
She listens, not recognizing the other woman's name either but nods in understanding regardless. There will be no interjection from her or any comments. Laura nods, lightly urging him to continue.
She's doing her best not to react to anything, much less to the part where they got closer. To her, it wasn't the ones you were sexual with that weren't the danger. It was the ones that were able to get into a person's heart and make a difference that was the danger. She'd been able to spot those ones a mile off and they were the ones she used to avoid at all cost.
She keeps her expression schooled into mild interest. Laura busies herself with lighting up a cigarette, wincing at the thick ribbon of smoke that comes off the end.
"Was she a warden?" Her guess is yes. There was some unwritten rule for some, like Maggie, who wouldn't sleep with inmates. Some sort of conflict of interest situation, if one should arise.
Sweeney watches her light the cigarette, licking his lip in the phantom longing for the taste. But he errs against lighting his own, feeling it might complicate the conversation somehow. He isn't sure why, but he doesn't have a lot of extra energy for reflecting at the moment.
He assumes she asked for a reason, probably one related to fucking. As such, he let's the quiet settle again, in case she has a follow up.
The question was for clarification and she nods, knowing that he knew why she asked. She decides that she needs to hear more, even if there is a question burning at the edges of her mind to ask. It occurs to her that by getting closer, he felt he could trust her with certain information. Namely, her, which doesn't seem very fair, overall. How much did she know? How much of her past is being unfairly judged?
Laura takes another drag, and she leans forward, her right thumb slowly starting to spin the ring on her index finger. She peers up at him, curious if that was all he had to say.
Ok then. Sweeney guesses that means the ball's back in his court. Great.
"That wasn't the only reason." It's a little difficult to admit, but it's clear he's making the effort, for her. He'd very much like to move past this particular topic, if only because there's very little to say on it in regards to what actually happened between the two of them. But he also knows if he pushes past it, it's likely to get Laura's hackles up.
"She wasn't lookin' fer that kind of relationship." He wets his lips.
Laura recognizes that he's trying and she wishes there was a way to show that she appreciates that he is. Still, it does little to lessen the feeling that she's being padded for a much larger truth and everything he says is unconsciously taken in and looked at for any double meaning. It's unintentional and she feels like shit doing it, but there's a need to know. Perhaps to steel herself from how it ends up making her feel.
His brow crinkles in genuine confusion. The expression is muted, but still plain as day with them facing each other. Sweeney's lips part, but unsureness leaves the quiet a little longer.
"I already have that." An intimate sexual relationship that goes well beyond simple fucking and uncomfortably into the realm of 'he doesn't want to think about what it means because the answer would force him to acknowledge some shit'.
"With you."
Or, at least, he thought he did. With that 'breach overlap', he's starting to feel less confident about it.
She catches herself halfway through, closing her eyes and silently admonishing herself for saying it wrong. Good fucking job, Laura. She nods, not letting him believe that they weren't that.
"Yes, we are," she confirms, looking at him so he can see that she speaking genuinely. "I meant a deeper relationship with love and all that. That's what she prefers that you don't?"
Was that question any better? She wasn't too sure about that.
There's that moment of relief at her confirmation, that Raylan wasn't something he needed to worry about. Honestly, he hadn't been, even when the marshal had approached Sweeney about continuing to fuck her. It was the look on her face when she fled that had planted the seed.
But then she continues, and his expression sinks, along with his shoulders. Alright.
"No. She ain't lookin' fer that either."
Sweeney would rather not go into Swamp Rat's life, out of respect, but he's getting the feeling the more respectful he tries to be to one, the more the other dwells. At least, that had been how it seemed earlier.
He won't have to go into Misty's life for her to be able to glean how he feels about her and so far, whenever questions come up he's quick to point out what she wants or doesn't want.
She catches his expression and the way his shoulders drop and Laura tries to keep an understanding look on her face, only she can't help but let a few tells slip; her eyes, the fidgeting with her ring that she keeps spinning faster as things become harder to parse and the way she swallows thickly.
"Does that disappoint you? That she isn't looking for something deeper?"
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[ there was no convincing her now that it wasn't more. at least on his end. ]
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And I said that because I know shit is complicated with us, and I didn't want you be stuck thinking her and me are something we aren't.
I've never kissed her or fucked her or washed her hair.
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are things complicated with us? i feel like we reached a comfortable understanding after the memory and psychedelic bug floods. things feel different now that you've talked to her. the way you're talking to me now is different.
if it's nothing, fine. why was she wearing your ring?
[ did he think she wouldn't notice? ]
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It's how I can tell it's her and not me hallucinating.
I thought things were complicated cause the way you left after Raylan came in.
[Because it sure as fuck felt that way.]
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look, it's none of my business who she is or what she is to you on a deeper level. I'm sorry you felt like you had to explain.
[ because at the end of the day, that is one person who she has no right to know about and he's making that abundantly clear. ]
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Are you willing to see me?
Or do you want me to let this lie?
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[ that's what she wanted from the beginning. ]
tell me where.
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[She'd asked for more than that after the whole Raylan thing, so he doesn't think it's an unfair request.]
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At her cabin
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Knowing his visit wasn't going to be the kind it usually is, she opts for a simple pair of faded blue jeans, a tank top and a cardigan that was a couple of sizes too big for her; her hair draped over her shoulders in loose curls.
"Hey," Laura greets quietly, offering a small smile before ducking her head and opening the door wider for him to come through. "Come in."
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The smile is nice and, honestly, a welcome surprise. It's answered in kind. While he knows this is still likely to suck in some places and may end up with him kicked out into the hall, at least she wasn't coming out swinging. He makes sure the door is closed, lingering only a few steps inside while waiting for her to decide where she wants to physically have the conversation.
"You want me ta start, or you wanna ask questions?"
It's a sincere sentiment; she'd already bristled at him trying to get ahead of things, and he's trying not to make the same mistake. Sweeney's confident there are plenty of new ones to make instead.
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Laura makes her way back to the side of the couch she normally sits, allowing him the other, if he wants it. She shakes her head.
"No, I'm okay with listening. If something comes up, I'll ask, if that's okay," she answers, reaching for her pack of cigarettes. This will be somewhere in the tenth or twelfth she's had since he'd called a couple of hours prior.
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"She was the second person I met when I got here." In the purest sense of actual conversation.
"She an' Tiff were the ones that made sure I understood how things worked. Who wanted ta get ta..." He isn't sure of the word he's looking for, so he picks something he feels is close enough. "...know me. Have a conversation that lasted longer than it takes ta order two beers."
Sweeney pauses, but it's clear it's only to allow her to interject if she wants to; he's willing to continue if she doesn't.
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She listens, not recognizing the other woman's name either but nods in understanding regardless. There will be no interjection from her or any comments. Laura nods, lightly urging him to continue.
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"I dunno. Just...o'er time an' endless bullshit, we got closer." That's not a great way to put it, is it?
"I'd ne'er really had that with a woman who I wasn't fuckin'." He goes out of his way to clarify in no uncertain terms.
"Who'd made it perfectly clear from our first talk that she wasn't interested in that sorta thing. An' wouldn't be."
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She keeps her expression schooled into mild interest. Laura busies herself with lighting up a cigarette, wincing at the thick ribbon of smoke that comes off the end.
"Was she a warden?" Her guess is yes. There was some unwritten rule for some, like Maggie, who wouldn't sleep with inmates. Some sort of conflict of interest situation, if one should arise.
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Sweeney watches her light the cigarette, licking his lip in the phantom longing for the taste. But he errs against lighting his own, feeling it might complicate the conversation somehow. He isn't sure why, but he doesn't have a lot of extra energy for reflecting at the moment.
He assumes she asked for a reason, probably one related to fucking. As such, he let's the quiet settle again, in case she has a follow up.
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Laura takes another drag, and she leans forward, her right thumb slowly starting to spin the ring on her index finger. She peers up at him, curious if that was all he had to say.
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"That wasn't the only reason." It's a little difficult to admit, but it's clear he's making the effort, for her. He'd very much like to move past this particular topic, if only because there's very little to say on it in regards to what actually happened between the two of them. But he also knows if he pushes past it, it's likely to get Laura's hackles up.
"She wasn't lookin' fer that kind of relationship." He wets his lips.
"'s far as I'm aware, she still isn't."
And that's the truth.
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And then something unexpected slips out.
"Much like you aren't, right?"
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"I already have that." An intimate sexual relationship that goes well beyond simple fucking and uncomfortably into the realm of 'he doesn't want to think about what it means because the answer would force him to acknowledge some shit'.
"With you."
Or, at least, he thought he did. With that 'breach overlap', he's starting to feel less confident about it.
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"Yes, we are," she confirms, looking at him so he can see that she speaking genuinely. "I meant a deeper relationship with love and all that. That's what she prefers that you don't?"
Was that question any better? She wasn't too sure about that.
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But then she continues, and his expression sinks, along with his shoulders. Alright.
"No. She ain't lookin' fer that either."
Sweeney would rather not go into Swamp Rat's life, out of respect, but he's getting the feeling the more respectful he tries to be to one, the more the other dwells. At least, that had been how it seemed earlier.
"Some bad experiences soured her on the notion."
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She catches his expression and the way his shoulders drop and Laura tries to keep an understanding look on her face, only she can't help but let a few tells slip; her eyes, the fidgeting with her ring that she keeps spinning faster as things become harder to parse and the way she swallows thickly.
"Does that disappoint you? That she isn't looking for something deeper?"
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