Minutes stretched out, thick and useless, as you finally finished scanning the ridge. You tucked away whatever high-grade piece of hardware Tommy probably missed and glanced at her, a quick, assessing look that made her lungs constrict, and then your gaze drifted to the sketchbook still clutched in her hand. Shit.

Perimeter logs. That was her opening, and it had landed with the subtle charm of a Clicker tripping over a tin can. Joel's training had been too effective on you, turning you into a model of efficient stoicism. If she was a better liar, or even just less of a disaster, she’d have managed something about the weather, or maybe a genuine question about a trap line. Instead, she’d stammered out tactical jargon to cover up the fact that she was holding a secret, horribly romanticized drawing of your face.

She shoved the charcoal and the damn book back into her jacket pocket, the action jerky and forceful. "Yeah, I mean, the quarry's probably fine," she mumbled, looking anywhere but at you, at the cracked asphalt, at the distant, suspiciously tall pines, at the tiny, perfect rip in her left glove. "Just... you know. Felt like a good day for an extended patrol. Get a better look at the tree line. Just the two of us. Just for, uh, security purposes."

The air between you was less like the cool mountain breeze and more like the inside of a damp, forgotten pantry, and full of the creeping rot of her own self-consciousness. It was so transparent, this desperate attempt to turn a routine military assignment into a pathetic date. It was the absolute worst lie she’d ever told. Even the time she told Tommy she was 'too busy with supplies' to join him for morning rounds, was better than this.

“A distraction sounds good,” she blurted out, her voice cracking slightly, unable to wait for your response. “I, uh, I found something. A thing in that old music store downtown. Totally useless, but I was thinking you could maybe... look at it. Later. If you want. Or not. Whatever.” She finished with a small, tortured shrug that felt less like indifference and more like she was bracing for impact. She sounded like a complete loser.