“Me neither,” Bea replied. “Does that make us fucking enlightened or just a couple steps closer to being alcoholics?” She hoped it was clear that the last part was a joke. She knew that neither one of them actually had a problem. Drinking was just a coping mechanism; not a great one, but hell, it was the end of the world, wasn’t like there was really anything better.
She laughed softly, actually picturing what Brandon described pretty easily. “I never got myself into shit like that. Probably because I had the best tolerance out of all of my friends, so they were always wasted a hell of a lot sooner than me.” Which unfortunately meant pouring them into cabs at the end of the night. Her least favorite memory about drinking in the city.
Blowing out a sigh, she glanced at Brandon, trying her hardest not to return that damn smile. This wasn’t a fucking date; it was just two people watching a movie. “Whatever,” she responded. “You can be right. I was still the one who told you to watch it.” So what if she wanted to be right about at least part of it, even if it a little voice in the back of her head was telling her that he was right and that he had his facts straight. God, she’d never realized how much Brandon paid attention to detail. Fucking cops.
She couldn’t disagree with the statement. She wondered sometimes, if she had a different family, whether or not she would have felt so stifled growing up. But she wasn’t really the type to look back that often, so she let it go. “Can’t help it,” she admitted. “It’s probably because I was a fucking oldest child. Even if it’s not just me I feel responsible for shit.” She knew she had people for support, but it was nice to hear it verbalized. “And I hope like fuck I won’t have to take you up on that, but let’s be real, our track record fucking sucks,” she finished, laughing a little, even if it wasn’t really funny.
“What?” That had come out a little higher and more incredulous than she’d meant. “Who the fuck made that comparison?” She didn’t see it, but whatever; people were inclined to their own opinions. “Captain America is fucking better than Superman too.” Or what she knew about the fictional superhero. It wasn’t like she was up on her comic book references; it hadn’t really been an interest of hers. “I don’t think being a cop makes you a boy scout either, for the record. I met plenty fucking cops in the city that were as bad as the fucking criminals.” Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, but it was out there now.
She laughed, “I’ll keep the fucking comments about a man in uniform to myself,” she told him, smiling just a little. “I don’t get why people say that either. I used to love dressing up, and not even because it’s a fucking girl thing. I just felt better when I look good, you know.” She usually kept that to herself, though there were people at Sing Sing that knew that. Hell, she hadn’t raided a fucking mall for nothing. The clothing she had right now wasn’t going to last forever, and she hated wearing raggedy things.