[ He sees the way she silently calls him on his lie, but rather than take offense or feign the role of wounded party, Faraday just smiles. Shameless and proud of it.
True enough, he preferred company when he drank, if only because he enjoyed having an audience when he began to spin his stories and tall tales. Enjoyed sitting in and listening to others’ stories, too. Good way to share a laugh, all things considered. Better to while away the time by hooting until his sides ached than meandering his way to the bottom of a handful of bottles by his lonesome.
But he would still do that, if he had few other options. It was a trek often made on his own. Familiar like an old, worn coat.
When she stands, he spots that telltale sway, and he can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes him. ]
Seems so. I’ll admit, math ain’t always been my strong suit.
[ He pushes away from the table, a sight more sure in his standing and his step than Emma seems to be. He comes around the table. ]
Might as well sit down. [ He punctuates it as he steps to her side, putting a hand on her shoulder; his touch is light, gentle, if only because he’s still unsure as to where he stands in this strange agreement to put this past week behind them. ] As charmin’ as it’d be to watch you stumble your way around the place, I doubt you wanna clean up the ensuin’ mess.
[ emma doesn't shrink away from him like she would have in the last week. she'd spent those days as if he'd returned to his previous state of solidity, like he'd go right through her if she dared get close again, but in reality, it had been a defense of sorts. it had all been to avoid the possibility of showing more of her hand than she meant to. with the warmth of the alcohol in her system, however, her response to him is far less guarded, what with the way so much tension just slides from her at the gentle touch, how it puts her at ease. tentative, light, but still contact after going so far out of her way to avoid it.
she glances at him sidelong, a faint smile almost tugging at the corner of her lips. ]
I hardly see a single charmin' thing about my unsteadiness, Faraday.
[ but there's no ice in her words, no real argument. she ought to have a seat if she's going to wait the alcohol out. ]
Though I reckon I'd be liable to actually lose a finger if I tried to finish my meal at this moment.
[ knives and alcohol seemed a terrible mix, anyway.
so, with a touch of stubbornness that's more for show than anything, emma sits back down at the table, peering expectantly up at faraday as if to say, 'good enough?' ]
[ The admission and that look of reluctance as she finally takes her seat draw a warm laugh from him – evidently his answer to her unspoken question. He wanders over to the kitchen, gathering up the plate and utensils. ]
Maybe avoid the knife for now, then. Till you’re less liable to chop off a digit.
[ He brings it all over, sets it down on the table in front of her. Without waiting for thanks, he rounds the table again, flopping down in his seat and reaching over for his new deck of cards. A smile of his own tugs at the corners of his mouth as he shuffles the stiff cards, working them and plying them to wear them in. ]
Still, you oughta eat something. Sop up the alcohol.
[ ...that laugh is nice, she thinks in the back of her mind. something else she missed.
she considers the food when faraday brings it over, actually grateful to have it in front of her. hopefully, it'll do something for the haziness in her head, the warm edges of intoxication that are just slightly there. ]
Not a terrible idea.
[ she's not embarrassed about letting herself be affected by the spirits, not around faraday. anyone else, and she'd be quite abashed — though, really, she doubts she'd be drinking around someone else, either.
she tucks into the meal without complaint, content to quietly observe the gambler with his new cards, a look of fondness in her eyes as he neatly handles the pristine deck. ]
I believe this won't be one of your vices I find myself indulging in much.
[ unlike the cards, at least. he so often teased her about being a bad influence, always to be met with a roll of her eyes and an exasperated glare, but she'd accommodated him today with the bourbon, just a touch. she doesn't care for the feeling of being drunk, and she makes a note to watch her intake more carefully (or at least go much more slowly) if she happens to find herself presented with whiskey in the future. ]
[ it’ll take some time before he softens the deck up enough to his liking, gets them as pliable as the old deck he carted around with him during life. (Those cards, of course, had been lost to the explosion. Scattered and burned, save for the one that had been pinned to the cross on the hill, until that, too, had been lost to the winds.)
The cards whisper in his hands as he lifts his gaze up to her, offers that little warning of hers. Faraday’s eyes widen in an echo of innocence, smile bright and seemingly innocuous. ]
Why, Miss Emma. Why ever would you think I’d try to tempt you with such an unpleasant habit? When have I ever acted in such a way to give you that impression?
[ emma's eyebrow cocks in a way that melts some of that irritation in her expression (though she often finds that her vexation is almost a token gesture, rather than because she finds him aggravating — obnoxious, certainly, but not actually bothersome). ]
Oh, I beg your pardon. How irksome you must find it to be confused for him when you're clearly the more handsome man.
[ ...oh, maybe that bourbon is still settled in her system yet. ]
[ Faraday barks out a laugh at that, startled but pleased. Part of him had expected more of that same teasing, a flat reassurance in Emma’s usual deadpan delivery that Faraday was not nearly as handsome as he proclaimed himself to be.
This, somehow, is better. Unfamiliar territory, sure, but amusing all the same. ]
I certainly think so. I mean, it’s as clear as the day is long, ain’t it?
[ emma might usually shut him down immediately from this point, but she's encouraged by the laugh, by the look on his face — and also the odd curl of warmth she feels in her chest. her tone implies she's joking, because she does enjoy teasing him, but...there's a measure of truth to it too. ]
Perfectly clear. Why, you've even got yourself a proper beard.
[ He snorts again, taking the teasing on the chin. This is more in line with their usual back and forth, and it's comforting. An exchange he's grown accustomed to, being the butt of Emma's jokes as much as she is for his.
That first time they had drifted apart after their blow-up had reminded him just how much he enjoyed this, how much he missed it when it was gone. This past week apart was another nail in the coffin, so to speak.
He draws a hand down the beard in question, almost as though he's preening. ]
It is a good beard.
But I like to think my winning personality has a lot to do with my attractiveness.
[ emma finishes off another bite of her dinner before sliding the plate away, leaning forward to gently rest her elbows on the table as she watches faraday stroke his beard.
she might have a real sort of grin on her face if she wasn't such a composed woman otherwise, but instead, there's the familiar impish look she occasionally gets during these exchanges, not quite a grin and not quite a smirk.
mischievous, but amused. ]
Charismatic devil that you are, I'm sure that's exactly the reason you have so many enamored women beatin' down your door. How could they resist such charms?
[ Faraday fights down the grin threatening to curl his lips, and instead, he inhales deeply, exhales slowly on a magnanimous sort of sigh. He shakes his head, as if rueful. ]
It's the cross I had to bear in life, to tell you the truth. All those broken hearts left behind me. A burden, really.
[ Another heavy sigh. ]
Bless 'em. They never stood a chance against the likes'a' me.
[ emma manages to school her expression into one of her usual, perfectly deadpan looks, solemn as she just shakes her head. ]
A real misfortune. Might be for the best, then, that I'm the only one seein' you these days — protect them from having to experience all that lovesickness over the infamous Faraday.
[ of course, she only keeps that tiny smirk off her face for a moment, can't quite manage to tame that light of mirth out of her eyes. ]
[ It's Faraday's turn to lean forward on the table, resting his chin on the heel of his palm. ]
But 'course, this means that you get the full force of all my debonair charms. A wonder you haven't fallen for me, yourself.
[ And this time he does smile, because— well, it's a silly thought, isn't it? Emma Cullen, ever falling for a man like him. Hell would truly have to freeze over for something like that to ever come to pass.
(Even if a part of him wishes. A bitter, warm sort of longing that he tries his best to ignore.) ]
[ emma's smile falls away for a moment — just a second in a slackening of her expression, like she's almost startled out of the joke by his words. but she gathers herself back up again quickly, passing off the faltering with a dismissive little scoff.
damn right, sterner stuff.
(but not nearly so stern as he might expect.) ]
Now really, you've been here with me far past long enough to know that for yourself.
[ and it has been a while, she thinks distantly. long enough that he's become a fixture in her home, and with this past week, she realizes how much that truly means. he doesn't simply fill emptiness for her, but rather, has made himself a place that emma wants to see properly held — by him alone. ]
Besides, all the women you've had moonin' over you in the past, I'd expect you'd suss it out easily enough if I had done the same.
[ He hums thoughtfully, rocking back to rest his elbow over the back of his chair. ]
Reckon you might be right on that count.
[ There were signs, of course. Lingering glances and private smiles. Eye contact from across a saloon, broken by a shy little laugh.
Of course, many of those open acts of flirtation had been acts. A desire to bring in few coins to keep the drinks flowing and business booming, but Faraday liked to think the attentions of the saloon girls were a little more genuine, when it came to his company. ]
[ emma is not, and has never been, the kind of woman inclined to coy flirtation. she could manage it for show, if the need truly arose, but in terms of demonstrating her affection with bashful smiles and furtive looks — well, she just had no interest in that kind of production.
...of course, what that really means is that the finer subtleties of coquetry would often escape her. she's far likelier to bluntly smother a man's flattering compliments than accept and return them — as proven in the encounter with poor teddy q.
and she'd even been trying her hardest to be polite then. ]
Then it seems I may be what you've sorely needed.
[ she manages to summon up that impish look again. ]
[ I may be what you’ve sorely needed. A small, distant part of him agrees with that thought, tentatively flickering behind his sternum. But it wouldn’t do to voice that idea aloud, not when they’ve so recently come to some sort of accord. ] Humble, she says. [ As if in an aside, eyes directed to the heavens. ]
Is that what you call your frequent and unfounded accusations on the quality of my character?
[ her eyes light with good humor, and she might have laughed if she hadn't been so focused on the banter itself. ]
As a man with a proud streak as tall as your tales, Faraday, I'd say I do you quite the favor.
[whosoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and whosoever humbles himself shall be exalted — or something to that effect.
one would have to ask horne for a more precise recitation, though that draws emma's mind to the crosses on the hill with a soft twinge. ]
"Unfounded," only by your need to maintain airs, but not because I've misjudged you.
[ though that's far more ribbing than truth. she had misjudged faraday something fierce when she'd first met him, and he'd proved her wrong any number of times. she hasn't forgotten how unpleasant and cruel he could summon himself up to be when he wants, but she's also seen more sides to him than she thought even existed. ]
So. Yes. To keep you humble.
[ said with an insufferable little smile to boot. ]
[ His eyes narrow in an apparent glower, but that good humor still dances in his eyes, flickers at the corner of his mouth.
Truthfully, her teasing did little to damage his overblown sense self-worth. More’s the pity, really, considering the size of his pride. ]
You’re lucky I’m not willin’ to part with these cards just yet. [ This, in a good-natured sort of grumble. He snaps a card off the deck, holding it up between two fingers.] Otherwise I’d flick this straight at that smug little smile’a’ yours.
[ A low level sort of glare before he drops the card back atop the deck, his shoulders sagging as he lets out a long breath. ]
Frankly, I deserve a sainthood for this ill-treatment you heap on me. [ Though he says it without any heat or resentment. ] I’m startin’ to think you only let me hang around on account of my thick skin.
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True enough, he preferred company when he drank, if only because he enjoyed having an audience when he began to spin his stories and tall tales. Enjoyed sitting in and listening to others’ stories, too. Good way to share a laugh, all things considered. Better to while away the time by hooting until his sides ached than meandering his way to the bottom of a handful of bottles by his lonesome.
But he would still do that, if he had few other options. It was a trek often made on his own. Familiar like an old, worn coat.
When she stands, he spots that telltale sway, and he can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes him. ]
Seems so. I’ll admit, math ain’t always been my strong suit.
[ He pushes away from the table, a sight more sure in his standing and his step than Emma seems to be. He comes around the table. ]
Might as well sit down. [ He punctuates it as he steps to her side, putting a hand on her shoulder; his touch is light, gentle, if only because he’s still unsure as to where he stands in this strange agreement to put this past week behind them. ] As charmin’ as it’d be to watch you stumble your way around the place, I doubt you wanna clean up the ensuin’ mess.
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she glances at him sidelong, a faint smile almost tugging at the corner of her lips. ]
I hardly see a single charmin' thing about my unsteadiness, Faraday.
[ but there's no ice in her words, no real argument. she ought to have a seat if she's going to wait the alcohol out. ]
Though I reckon I'd be liable to actually lose a finger if I tried to finish my meal at this moment.
[ knives and alcohol seemed a terrible mix, anyway.
so, with a touch of stubbornness that's more for show than anything, emma sits back down at the table, peering expectantly up at faraday as if to say, 'good enough?' ]
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Maybe avoid the knife for now, then. Till you’re less liable to chop off a digit.
[ He brings it all over, sets it down on the table in front of her. Without waiting for thanks, he rounds the table again, flopping down in his seat and reaching over for his new deck of cards. A smile of his own tugs at the corners of his mouth as he shuffles the stiff cards, working them and plying them to wear them in. ]
Still, you oughta eat something. Sop up the alcohol.
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she considers the food when faraday brings it over, actually grateful to have it in front of her. hopefully, it'll do something for the haziness in her head, the warm edges of intoxication that are just slightly there. ]
Not a terrible idea.
[ she's not embarrassed about letting herself be affected by the spirits, not around faraday. anyone else, and she'd be quite abashed — though, really, she doubts she'd be drinking around someone else, either.
she tucks into the meal without complaint, content to quietly observe the gambler with his new cards, a look of fondness in her eyes as he neatly handles the pristine deck. ]
I believe this won't be one of your vices I find myself indulging in much.
[ unlike the cards, at least. he so often teased her about being a bad influence, always to be met with a roll of her eyes and an exasperated glare, but she'd accommodated him today with the bourbon, just a touch. she doesn't care for the feeling of being drunk, and she makes a note to watch her intake more carefully (or at least go much more slowly) if she happens to find herself presented with whiskey in the future. ]
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The cards whisper in his hands as he lifts his gaze up to her, offers that little warning of hers. Faraday’s eyes widen in an echo of innocence, smile bright and seemingly innocuous. ]
Why, Miss Emma. Why ever would you think I’d try to tempt you with such an unpleasant habit? When have I ever acted in such a way to give you that impression?
[ aside from always. ]
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An honest mistake, then. You're the picture of innocence and holy intentions, Joshua Faraday.
[ her tone is fairly flat, but dripping with sarcasm as she finally takes the next bite from her fork. ]
Must be I had you confused with another man prone to all manner of sins.
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Theodore.
[ He intones the name grimly, offering the man up at Emma’s prompting. He pauses after a second, lips pursing and eyebrows knitting together. Then, ]
Although I don’t take too kindly to the mix-up. I’m far more dashing than our dear Teddy, after all.
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Oh, I beg your pardon. How irksome you must find it to be confused for him when you're clearly the more handsome man.
[ ...oh, maybe that bourbon is still settled in her system yet. ]
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This, somehow, is better. Unfamiliar territory, sure, but amusing all the same. ]
I certainly think so. I mean, it’s as clear as the day is long, ain’t it?
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Perfectly clear. Why, you've even got yourself a proper beard.
Truly the envy of all sorts of folks.
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That first time they had drifted apart after their blow-up had reminded him just how much he enjoyed this, how much he missed it when it was gone. This past week apart was another nail in the coffin, so to speak.
He draws a hand down the beard in question, almost as though he's preening. ]
It is a good beard.
But I like to think my winning personality has a lot to do with my attractiveness.
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she might have a real sort of grin on her face if she wasn't such a composed woman otherwise, but instead, there's the familiar impish look she occasionally gets during these exchanges, not quite a grin and not quite a smirk.
mischievous, but amused. ]
Charismatic devil that you are, I'm sure that's exactly the reason you have so many enamored women beatin' down your door. How could they resist such charms?
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It's the cross I had to bear in life, to tell you the truth. All those broken hearts left behind me. A burden, really.
[ Another heavy sigh. ]
Bless 'em. They never stood a chance against the likes'a' me.
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A real misfortune. Might be for the best, then, that I'm the only one seein' you these days — protect them from having to experience all that lovesickness over the infamous Faraday.
[ of course, she only keeps that tiny smirk off her face for a moment, can't quite manage to tame that light of mirth out of her eyes. ]
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[ It's Faraday's turn to lean forward on the table, resting his chin on the heel of his palm. ]
But 'course, this means that you get the full force of all my debonair charms. A wonder you haven't fallen for me, yourself.
[ And this time he does smile, because— well, it's a silly thought, isn't it? Emma Cullen, ever falling for a man like him. Hell would truly have to freeze over for something like that to ever come to pass.
(Even if a part of him wishes. A bitter, warm sort of longing that he tries his best to ignore.) ]
You must surely be made of sterner stuff.
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damn right, sterner stuff.
(but not nearly so stern as he might expect.) ]
Now really, you've been here with me far past long enough to know that for yourself.
[ and it has been a while, she thinks distantly. long enough that he's become a fixture in her home, and with this past week, she realizes how much that truly means. he doesn't simply fill emptiness for her, but rather, has made himself a place that emma wants to see properly held — by him alone. ]
Besides, all the women you've had moonin' over you in the past, I'd expect you'd suss it out easily enough if I had done the same.
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Reckon you might be right on that count.
[ There were signs, of course. Lingering glances and private smiles. Eye contact from across a saloon, broken by a shy little laugh.
Of course, many of those open acts of flirtation had been acts. A desire to bring in few coins to keep the drinks flowing and business booming, but Faraday liked to think the attentions of the saloon girls were a little more genuine, when it came to his company. ]
Seems to me I've met my match, then. So to speak.
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...of course, what that really means is that the finer subtleties of coquetry would often escape her. she's far likelier to bluntly smother a man's flattering compliments than accept and return them — as proven in the encounter with poor teddy q.
and she'd even been trying her hardest to be polite then. ]
Then it seems I may be what you've sorely needed.
[ she manages to summon up that impish look again. ]
Someone ought to keep you humble, after all.
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Humble, she says. [ As if in an aside, eyes directed to the heavens. ]
Is that what you call your frequent and unfounded accusations on the quality of my character?
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As a man with a proud streak as tall as your tales, Faraday, I'd say I do you quite the favor.
[ whosoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and whosoever humbles himself shall be exalted — or something to that effect.
one would have to ask horne for a more precise recitation, though that draws emma's mind to the crosses on the hill with a soft twinge. ]
"Unfounded," only by your need to maintain airs, but not because I've misjudged you.
[ though that's far more ribbing than truth. she had misjudged faraday something fierce when she'd first met him, and he'd proved her wrong any number of times. she hasn't forgotten how unpleasant and cruel he could summon himself up to be when he wants, but she's also seen more sides to him than she thought even existed. ]
So. Yes. To keep you humble.
[ said with an insufferable little smile to boot. ]
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Truthfully, her teasing did little to damage his overblown sense self-worth. More’s the pity, really, considering the size of his pride. ]
You’re lucky I’m not willin’ to part with these cards just yet. [ This, in a good-natured sort of grumble. He snaps a card off the deck, holding it up between two fingers.] Otherwise I’d flick this straight at that smug little smile’a’ yours.
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[ she props her elbow on the table, her palm cradling her chin as she looks at him, that smug look not quite budging. ]
You wouldn't be gettin' that card back.
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Frankly, I deserve a sainthood for this ill-treatment you heap on me. [ Though he says it without any heat or resentment. ] I’m startin’ to think you only let me hang around on account of my thick skin.
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[ she just lifts her eyebrows at him a touch, that unimpressed expression mingling with the tinted smugness in the crook of her lips. ]
I keep you around for many reasons, Faraday. Most of which are hardly relatin' to your good nature.
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Lemme guess.
[ The cards snapping as he riffles two packets together. ]
My ability to fetch things from high places probably factors pretty favorably, don't it?
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