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playing the game -- rick austin (takingsides) wrote in bellumlogs,

Rick didn't take part in the conversation until they'd reached the landing, focused on keeping the thing in his hands from falling--since it would probably crush Ed into pink paste if he did. Finally he called out directions and set it down, pulling his fingers out of the way in time, and leaning up against it to catch his breath. The sweatshirt, even with the cut off sleeves, was starting to be a bit warm, but he ignored it. The material would protect his arms, and he wasn't in danger of becoming overheated yet. Rick knew himself, and he knew his own limits.

"James," he said, blinking at her with the first trace of uninhibited expression anyone had seen on his face all evening. Surprise, then--nothing. His expression went blank, erased. Then he smiled an enigmatic smile that must be natural. "James," he said, in tone of greeting this time.