Re: O'Brien, Leah
That was a good question, especially if the mafia ever became a serious threat. Were there gangsters out there somewhere, biding their time until they were strong enough to take on one of the large government-controlled safehouses? The mafia had been a threat long before the outbreak began. The infection couldn't have wiped them all out. And with a rebellion in its beginning stages? What if that was the reason whoever was in charge of the mafia hadn't risked an attack yet? What if they were waiting for a rift to form, a crack in the governmental system that they could wedge themselves into and take over?
Leah knew enough about the crime world to be aware of the threat, but she didn't possess the training or intimate knowledge of how anything like that would work. Theories were all she had to work with. "Probably," was all she said to O'Brien on the matter.
"I'd rather not be a fish at all," Leah grumbled, frowning at the man. Not only was being compared to a fish completely insulting (especially when it came from someone like Rodeo), there was also the fact that she was terrified of large bodies of water. The last species of animal she would ever want to be was a fish. She could tell O'Brien wasn't keen on the subject of Rodeo either, which was fine with her. Didn't seem right, giving him credit for ruining the party for them.
That was fair, however much she didn't want to admit it. Maybe she could shrug off what happened that night, pretend it didn't happen. But O'Brien had the proof of what happened right in front of his... Okay, right on his nose. Turning toward him, Leah propped a hand on her hip. "I'd offer you a free swing at me, but I don't think you'd take it. Your nose will heal."
She nodded her assent to his request. "If you're around when I find them, I'll let you see the show."
"Lying would probably be easier for you than trying to come up with a list of why anyone would move past toleration to friendship with me. The list is short and I'm glad." Or he could say nothing at all, instead of making her look and sound like a fool.
Her eyes narrowed when he made a claim that she did, in fact, care. "You're right, I don't like to hear it. But as I told you on the roof that day, you didn't deserve to be left behind. You were brave and stupid&mdash" couldn't let him forget that, "— enough to go out on your own and find what you needed. You didn't even beg me to help you."
Leah shrugged but didn't say anything. A comment about not wanting to enjoy the party would only make her sound like she was pouting, and she didn't want O'Brien to get that impression. Why, she couldn't say exactly. Maybe it was guilt for not showing at least a little appreciation for all the work that had gone into something like this. O'Brien was thankful, not just to be there, but to be alive, and that thought sobered her. Too many people weren't able to be here at all, either because they were out there struggling to stay alive... or they were dead.
Humbled, Leah dropped her gaze from his, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. "You're already too nice to me," she muttered. He went on to repeat that he enjoyed her company, however poor it was, and her lips quirked into the faintest of smiles.
She reached across the table for a bottle of beer and handed it to O'Brien. "Happy New Year, QG," she said, picking the camera up to use as a distraction. If he could do it, so could she. The buttons on the LCD screen were confusing, and she was glad of that. It made her feel annoyed, which was a much more comforting emotion.