I would have hoped death might remove "poor taste" from your list of qualities, Mister Faraday, but I suppose, given the proof of your coffee, my hope was misplaced.
[ she summons up a look of disappointment, just for him. ]
An honest shame.
But I'm sure it can be fixed up if you learn to drink coffee proper, rather than black and burnt.
[ For a second, Faraday just snorts to himself. He evidently has a few fleeting thoughts as to the state of tongues that, given the company, he feels it best not to express.
As it is, he presses a hand to his chest, just beneath his throat, and puts on a wide-eyed look. ]
Why, Emma, with praise like that, you might actually move me to tears.
[ Faraday heaves out a sigh, tossing up both hands (though he still keeps the deck of cards firmly in his grasp). ]
There's really no winnin' with you, is there?
[ Despite it all, his voice stays light, amused. This is far better than their uncomfortable, strained silence. Than the rift between them, yawning and cold and dark. ]
Just for all this, I'll make doubly sure your next mug of coffee is more bitter and dark than a winter night.
[ The suggestion earns an overblown scowl, and he pointedly runs his thumb along the edge of his cards, letting the snapping paper speak to his distaste. ]
I'm guessin' this is the third point in my favor, then. Free labor?
[ now that gets its own pointed roll of her eyes. ]
You say that like I'm handin' over all the daily work, Faraday. You know well and good it's small things here and there, and that's the most of it.
[ because emma doesn't like asking for help, and rarely, if ever, heaps anything onto faraday unless she literally just doesn't have the hands to do it herself or the time to juggle it all.
she's had to go from having matthew around every day to just— finding her way alone. she's plenty capable of it, but sometimes she needs more than herself to make it all come together, to make sure things don't go neglected. ]
Besides, this is as good as your home too. Might as well do something around here.
[ ...which is the first time emma's ever referred to her house as his "home." ]
[ He's about to say something smart and teasing, mouth twisting into one of his more infuriating sorts of smiles of his. Faraday knows he hardly does much of anything, really; no more than a few small tasks that he had volunteered himself for in an effort to keep himself busy.
But that wouldn't stop him from complaining. Simply because that was his main form of discourse.
And he's ready to do more of it, except—
Well. Emma just had to go and say that, didn't shee?
His hands freeze on the cards, and his gaze snaps to her, eyes slightly wide and expression blank. Surprise, more than anything, because Faraday hasn't had a place to call "home" in decades. Not since he was a difficult child, flinching bodily at the use of his full name. Not since he took up drifting from town to town.
For a few long seconds, Faraday can do little more than stare and blink; his command of the English language had always left a little something to be desired, but this is ridiculous.
Eventually thought returns to him, along with a handful of words, and he clears his throat, realizing he's been silent for far too long. His gaze flicks down to his hands. ]
I believe you may have misspoke, there. [ Lightly, in case Emma has a desire to take back her words.
[ the extended silence has emma questioning herself, a little frown drawing onto her face as she considers him.
she knows the kind of life he'd led, how he'd rolled himself from one town to the next, never putting down roots, never finding a place, but— he's been here for months. she's seen him (nearly) every single day, and they spend far more time together than they do apart. she sees him when she wakes and just before she goes to bed (though she doesn't like to admit to herself the amount of times he's even put her to bed), and he's become such a fixture, even in this state of existence, that doesn't he near as good live there with her?
he may not have a need to lay his head in the evening as a living soul might, but he remains so often by her side or in her house in some manner or another.
wouldn't that make this his home?
she doesn't look away from him, doesn't falter in her usual fierce expression. ]
Near as I reckon, one could easily say you live here, Faraday. I know a lot could be argued about how you do, but I'd call this place yours without so much as blinkin'.
So, no, I haven't misspoke.
[ she sits up a touch straighter, her jaw setting slightly. ]
If you want this to be your home, then it is.
[ but part of her is bracing herself to hear that it's not. that he's here by nature of circumstance and the fact that he can't find himself any other place — that he's only sticking around because he's tied to rose creek, and her home happens to be convenient given she's the only one who can see him. ]
[ Faraday watches the way she steels herself, the way she stokes those flames of determination, like she's facing down an army. A quality he's come to recognize and admire, surely, but he's not entirely sure what it is in this situation that's warranted it.
She seems so sure of herself, though, so sure of the strange words that have fallen from her lips, and Faraday finds a small part of him relaxing. Finds a small part of him vaguely touched by the gesture. Faraday doesn't expect anyone he had known in life would be so willing as to extend such an invitation to him – not that he could blame him, considering the man he is.
But now, with so little of him left, now is when he finds a place where he might actually belong.
It's not such a terrible feeling, he thinks, though the implications, that fear of complacency, still buzz at the back of his mind.
Despite himself, despite that strange force that tightens around his chest, he finds himself smiling. A small, barely there thing, little more than a twitch at the corner of his mouth, but he feels it, and ducks his head a little to hide it. ]
[ well, it's by no means an outright rejection, but that tiny smile tugging at his lips, barely there before he moves to hide it, is heartening in its own right.
that unflappable determination fades, just a touch, softening into a hint of her own smile — soft and small, but meaningful. appreciative. ]
Take as long as you like.
[ she finally stands again from the table, steadier this time, without the earlier waver thanks to the bourbon, and gathers up her dishes. ]
Suppose we have nothing but time, wouldn't you say?
[ ... Well, Faraday, at the very least, has all the time in the world, considering what he is and isn't. The same can't quite be said for Emma, and he frowns a little at the thought.
It hadn't occurred to him before, that he would remain if Emma didn't. That if he stayed as he was, where he was, he might very well be witness to the people of Rose Creek aging, Emma included. And what a melancholy sort of thought that was.
He pushes it away, possibly to examine later (possibly never), and watches as she stands. He smirks a little. ]
[ emma tosses a flat look his way as she takes her plate to the counter. ]
I told you you wouldn't be seein' me much impaired tonight. I probably needed to eat, was all.
[ she hadn't been the same kind of drunk like that last time in the saloon, fortunately, and she at least has the coordination to start cleaning up after her meal. ]
Put this up, would you?
[ she glances back at him, a tiny twitch at her lips as she gestures to one of the pans. ]
Might as well earn your keep with some of that reach of yours.
[ Faraday grunts out a frustrated noise, arms going lax at his side and tipping his head back to the ceiling in a manner that would make many of Rose Creek's schoolchildren proud. ]
Fine.
[ And he drags out the word on a long exhale. The cards drop onto the table as he trudges over, stowing the pan she had pointed him toward. ]
You know, you wouldn't need my help so much if you just put this someplace within easy reach.
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no subject
You sure on that one?
As I recall, someone had complaints as to the quality of the coffee I produced.
no subject
Some people don't care to drink black sludge passed as coffee in the morning. But the second attempt wasn't godawful, so that was appreciated.
Besides, now that you can drink it yourself, it might be more palatable.
[ now she's offering to share her coffee, kind soul that she is. ]
no subject
"Wasn't godawful." Well, now, isn't that just the prettiest sorta compliment?
[ He shakes his head, seemingly in disapproval. ]
Ain't no fault of mine that you drink coffee as weak as all that. Might as well be drinkin' water, at that point.
no subject
I would have hoped death might remove "poor taste" from your list of qualities, Mister Faraday, but I suppose, given the proof of your coffee, my hope was misplaced.
[ she summons up a look of disappointment, just for him. ]
An honest shame.
But I'm sure it can be fixed up if you learn to drink coffee proper, rather than black and burnt.
[ shots officially fired over coffee. ]
no subject
Good Lord, you've got some strong opinions on coffee.
[ Faraday smirks, then, huffing out a laugh. ]
Any other sore topics I oughta know about? Some lingerin' thoughts on the proper servin' temperature, for instance?
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It oughtn't be so hot I'll have blisters from my first sip.
[ she gives a definitive little nod. ]
I don't particularly fancy a throbbing tongue when I am tryin' to enjoy my coffee.
I will admit, you have tended to serve it at a decent temperature. At least you've gotten that much right.
no subject
As it is, he presses a hand to his chest, just beneath his throat, and puts on a wide-eyed look. ]
Why, Emma, with praise like that, you might actually move me to tears.
no subject
Well, I'd surely hate to see you cry, Joshua, so perhaps I ought to resort to the usual insults instead.
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There's really no winnin' with you, is there?
[ Despite it all, his voice stays light, amused. This is far better than their uncomfortable, strained silence. Than the rift between them, yawning and cold and dark. ]
Just for all this, I'll make doubly sure your next mug of coffee is more bitter and dark than a winter night.
no subject
[ she gives a shrug, like that's clearly the most obvious solution. ]
Unless I can convince you to make my coffee properly.
no subject
And how're you gonna know if I made it "properly"— [ He echoes the word with a touch of irony ] —unless you try it?
Sounds to me like we've got ourselves a bit of a standoff.
no subject
Seems we do indeed.
Why don't you just agree to make my coffee without sabotaging it? As a personal favor.
no subject
Or, I could do the opposite of that...
[ Because this option seems just as appealing, for reasons known only to Faraday. ]
no subject
[ she gives a quiet huff, giving him that unimpressed flat look. ]
no subject
That's sorta the point.
[ Evidently, Faraday is trying to avoid chores, much as he might have when he was a child. ]
no subject
Then if you'd prefer, I could give you something else to do.
[ more chores? more chores. ]
I simply thought coffee was a fairly painless ordeal.
no subject
I'm guessin' this is the third point in my favor, then. Free labor?
no subject
You say that like I'm handin' over all the daily work, Faraday. You know well and good it's small things here and there, and that's the most of it.
[ because emma doesn't like asking for help, and rarely, if ever, heaps anything onto faraday unless she literally just doesn't have the hands to do it herself or the time to juggle it all.
she's had to go from having matthew around every day to just— finding her way alone. she's plenty capable of it, but sometimes she needs more than herself to make it all come together, to make sure things don't go neglected. ]
Besides, this is as good as your home too. Might as well do something around here.
[ ...which is the first time emma's ever referred to her house as his "home." ]
no subject
But that wouldn't stop him from complaining. Simply because that was his main form of discourse.
And he's ready to do more of it, except—
Well. Emma just had to go and say that, didn't shee?
His hands freeze on the cards, and his gaze snaps to her, eyes slightly wide and expression blank. Surprise, more than anything, because Faraday hasn't had a place to call "home" in decades. Not since he was a difficult child, flinching bodily at the use of his full name. Not since he took up drifting from town to town.
For a few long seconds, Faraday can do little more than stare and blink; his command of the English language had always left a little something to be desired, but this is ridiculous.
Eventually thought returns to him, along with a handful of words, and he clears his throat, realizing he's been silent for far too long. His gaze flicks down to his hands. ]
I believe you may have misspoke, there. [ Lightly, in case Emma has a desire to take back her words.
(A distant part of him hopes she doesn't.) ]
Or else, not rightly sure if I heard you right.
no subject
she knows the kind of life he'd led, how he'd rolled himself from one town to the next, never putting down roots, never finding a place, but— he's been here for months. she's seen him (nearly) every single day, and they spend far more time together than they do apart. she sees him when she wakes and just before she goes to bed (though she doesn't like to admit to herself the amount of times he's even put her to bed), and he's become such a fixture, even in this state of existence, that doesn't he near as good live there with her?
he may not have a need to lay his head in the evening as a living soul might, but he remains so often by her side or in her house in some manner or another.
wouldn't that make this his home?
she doesn't look away from him, doesn't falter in her usual fierce expression. ]
Near as I reckon, one could easily say you live here, Faraday. I know a lot could be argued about how you do, but I'd call this place yours without so much as blinkin'.
So, no, I haven't misspoke.
[ she sits up a touch straighter, her jaw setting slightly. ]
If you want this to be your home, then it is.
[ but part of her is bracing herself to hear that it's not. that he's here by nature of circumstance and the fact that he can't find himself any other place — that he's only sticking around because he's tied to rose creek, and her home happens to be convenient given she's the only one who can see him. ]
no subject
She seems so sure of herself, though, so sure of the strange words that have fallen from her lips, and Faraday finds a small part of him relaxing. Finds a small part of him vaguely touched by the gesture. Faraday doesn't expect anyone he had known in life would be so willing as to extend such an invitation to him – not that he could blame him, considering the man he is.
But now, with so little of him left, now is when he finds a place where he might actually belong.
It's not such a terrible feeling, he thinks, though the implications, that fear of complacency, still buzz at the back of his mind.
Despite himself, despite that strange force that tightens around his chest, he finds himself smiling. A small, barely there thing, little more than a twitch at the corner of his mouth, but he feels it, and ducks his head a little to hide it. ]
That's quite an offer, you know.
[ A little gruffly. ]
Suppose I'll have to think on it.
[ Though he already knows his answer. ]
no subject
[ well, it's by no means an outright rejection, but that tiny smile tugging at his lips, barely there before he moves to hide it, is heartening in its own right.
that unflappable determination fades, just a touch, softening into a hint of her own smile — soft and small, but meaningful. appreciative. ]
Take as long as you like.
[ she finally stands again from the table, steadier this time, without the earlier waver thanks to the bourbon, and gathers up her dishes. ]
Suppose we have nothing but time, wouldn't you say?
no subject
[ ... Well, Faraday, at the very least, has all the time in the world, considering what he is and isn't. The same can't quite be said for Emma, and he frowns a little at the thought.
It hadn't occurred to him before, that he would remain if Emma didn't. That if he stayed as he was, where he was, he might very well be witness to the people of Rose Creek aging, Emma included. And what a melancholy sort of thought that was.
He pushes it away, possibly to examine later (possibly never), and watches as she stands. He smirks a little. ]
Whiskey's wearin' off, it looks like.
no subject
I told you you wouldn't be seein' me much impaired tonight. I probably needed to eat, was all.
[ she hadn't been the same kind of drunk like that last time in the saloon, fortunately, and she at least has the coordination to start cleaning up after her meal. ]
Put this up, would you?
[ she glances back at him, a tiny twitch at her lips as she gestures to one of the pans. ]
Might as well earn your keep with some of that reach of yours.
no subject
Fine.
[ And he drags out the word on a long exhale. The cards drop onto the table as he trudges over, stowing the pan she had pointed him toward. ]
You know, you wouldn't need my help so much if you just put this someplace within easy reach.
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