[[ milliways ]]

[almosthonorable]

whitetextiswhite

It's early -- early enough that the bar proper is more quiet than loud. Ben likes mornings like this in here, when he can sit with his coffee at one elbow and his hat by the other on the counter, and he isn't taking up more space than might be considered polite.

This particular morning, he's also got a box of ammunition in front of him, courtesy of Bar; as soon as the gray light outside bleeds to red-gold, he'll stride out back for some target practice.

Comments

[almosthonorable]

"They get replaced with machines that go even faster," he says with a single nod. "But."

He offers her half a grin.

"That don't mean you can't ride for fun."

[ellectrical]

It's not that Elle doesn't understand 'fun' - but most of what she understands as fun still has some practical purpose behind it.

(Or is what no one should really consider 'fun.')

Still, she answers, a little coy again, "Maybe."

"But not in my world."

[almosthonorable]

"Fine, be that way," Ben says good-naturedly.

"You can still ride here -- there's stables and horses available."

A beat.

"Assumin' you and animals get along all right, of course."

[ellectrical]

Elle glances to the side, looking a little dubious.

Still, she looks back to him, and takes a step forward, closing the space between them. (Or at least, leaving less space between them than most people likely would.)

"Are you going to take your hat back?"

[almosthonorable]

Teasing half-smile firmly in place, he shakes his head.

"I was kinda hopin' you'd hand it back."

[ellectrical]

Looking (up) at him, she makes a face, something clearly along the lines of, Why do I have to do all the work?

Still, she obliges; though 'handing the hat back' apparently requires her to move up to her toes again, her arms around his shoulders so she can pull herself up to reach high enough to put the hat back on his head.

She takes her time with this, coming close enough that their noses nearly brush, but doesn't quite come any closer than that. (She's not really going to do all the work, after all.)

[almosthonorable]

Eyes locking onto hers, he's very still, not sure if she's testing him or herself; the hat is nearly on, and he shifts just enough to accommodate her reach.

When the hat finds its home on top of his head, his smile widens.

"You could've just put it in my hand, Goliath."

[ellectrical]

She starts to lower herself down again, though she keeps one hand on his right shoulder, ostensibly for balance.

"Pretty sure it's supposed to go on your head."



Don't worry, that is sarcasm.

[almosthonorable]

Dry as a July desert, "I'm pretty sure you're right."

He glances at her hand on his shoulder, and his eyes move back to her face.

"Thank you, all the same."

[ellectrical]

In return, Elle just smiles faintly, and answers, "Sure."

And then, she turns again, using the hand remaining on his shoulder to push off against him as she starts to head back in the direction of the bar once more.

[almosthonorable]

Ben's stock-still for a moment, watching her make for the bar.

With an under-the-breath chuckle, he adjusts his hat and follows in her wake.

Even if she's already eaten, he can offer to get her a cup of coffee. (And maybe ask Bar for a hat catalog -- making Elle laugh, or even just smile -- would be well worth the request.)