Re: [Not-a-picnic: Nel, Lear, Daddy]
Leslie was untroubled by who might feel dismissed in the moment. She cared about the long game, and what would benefit her tomorrow, not today. Lear attracted a sharp look when he assessed her fuckability, and there was something close to a smile in her eyes. Lear might be more than words, but his words meant nothing. He was goading, and enjoying himself. She enjoyed the sight of him enjoying himself.
She hadn't become a woman to shock anyone. It might have even been a courtesy - to show she had no secrets to keep, no face she would not show. "I'm flattered," she said. "Who wouldn't be? You're both specimens."
Leslie showed no sign of walking away herself. She watched them lean into each other, winding up like a pair of friendly cats, and actually felt a flicker of strange gladness. "I have my marching orders," she said. Talk to Thor, talk to a 'Derek.' "Next time," she said, acknowledging the implication with a small, warm smile.