027. - Thanksgiving backthread spam for Claire.

[brokenweapon]

The dinner had gone well - it was the first Thanksgiving he could remember. People were filtering out of the common room, sleepy and full, a state which Bourne both enjoyed and was wary of (because being sleepy meant you weren't on your game, and not being on your game meant you were dead).

Pretty soon, it was only him and Claire left.

And yet he still wasn't good at talking. Not even to her.

Comments

HERE, HAVE SOME RAMBLY INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

It was funny. He was getting used to having her around. Yes, it had taken him a while, and he still couldn't always express himself properly, but Claire had definitely helped him heal. When he had come onto the Barge, it had been only six short bloody weeks since Marie's death, and he hadn't been able to deal with it. Since then, he'd made great strides - and most of it was due to Claire's assistance.

He still wasn't over it. Not completely. He doubted he ever would be, and he kept his deal with the Admiral in mind. But he also had to come to grips with the fact that he actually really liked Claire. A lot. They were good friends at the very least.

LOVE.

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

"I think it's sleepytime." She gave pause, debating her next choice of words. "Walk me to my cabin?"

Part of her wanted to stay here, out of fatigue and out of comfort, but Claire couldn't find the words to ask. For once.

<3

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

"Of course," Bourne said, standing up after a moment.

"And next time, you have to tell me more about your life, okay?" he asked as they left towards her cabin. "I feel like I'm talking too much."

For a man of as few words as Jason, he really had been talking a lot. She seemed to do that to him.