The tempo of Lacus' humming slows as she flits about her kitchen, cajoled into a smooth adiago while she works on the dishes. She doesn't want to interrupt Sam as he describes, between bites of chicken sandwich, the time he and his brother were in Colorado -- conveniently skipping over the details, of course. Still, he talks more when he watches her in the kitchen. She wants to hear whatever he will tell her, and there are a lot of stories he needs to tell.
There's a pause as Sam goes quiet mid-sentence, and she turns to see him with a napkin to his mouth. He's careful, and she's learned not to push.
Her pause is cleaner; an extra beat between notes as she bends to press an unassuming kiss to the corner of his mouth, her song resuming as she smiles at him and then her hair brushes his arm as she pulls away, and turns away. Smoothly slips on a potholder-mitt and ducks into the oven while he stares after.
"What was that for?"
A long note ends her tune as the oven door shuts and a cabinet drawer slides open.
"Did I tell you I met Dean? While he was here a few weeks ago."
She knew she hadn't, and so she goes on before he can say so. "He told me to do this."
The look on his face nearly makes her giggle, some mix of befuddled and dismayed. "He did, did he."
"Mm!" She leans on the counter, directly facing him, and slides a slice of hot apple pie between them. "He said I should use my talents."
It's the first time she hears him laugh, really laugh, and the room feels so full now that there's no need for singing.