The ease in which James throws out the old endearment guts Lita. She's not sure if it was a slip of the tongue or a calculated move to try and sway her but it doesn't matter; it only reminds her how much has happened since he's last used it. The fact that there's nothing she'd rather do than see his place and share a few quiet minutes with him only cements the notion that it's probably a mistake. Still, she needs to eat and, at the same time, she doubts James will eat if she doesn't sit down and force feed him. Nonetheless, she's not sold on the idea. Lita knows to tread carefully; she doesn't want to give him anymore ammo to hurt her.
"Give me a few minutes," Lita says, walking away from him to tie up a few loose ends before leaving. The invitation back to his place stings all the more knowing he never wanted her here in the first place. If he hadn't needed her skills so badly Lita is fairly certain he'd rather die than ever have her within miles of the Dog Park. The offer reads like a consolation prize given a million years too late.
Lita leaves her number with the volunteer she'd put in charge; a sturdy, no nonsense woman named Marge that everyone seemed to refer to as an 'old lady' even though she could hardly be older than 40. After some last minute checks and adjustments, Lita gathers her personal med kit, throws it in her duffel bag, and hikes the strap over her shoulder before standing besides James again. She begins to walk; her impetus to give some distance between them and the people in the tent before she continues her train of thought.
"You can't with the pet names," Lita says, pushing past the exit and into the cool night air. She's not accusatory, just firm and she says it in a tone leaves no room for argument. "Not now, not here. If people think I'm just some girl you fucked. It could undo a lot of what I'm doing here. Plus, it makes me think you think things are the same and they aren't, not by a long shot."
She's been standing for so long and she's so intent on getting out of the triage tent that she doesn't notice she's walking faster than she normally would. She's worked up a head of steam on top of that, finding fault in James' casual use of maharani and dinner invitation like they were out on a damn date. She may have indulged him, and herself, the night he'd called all sad and drunk. She doesn't regret it, not by a long shot but that doesn't mean she's still not hurting. They say times heals all wounds but it's bullshit; she is just as heartbroken now as the day he she left him in the parking lot Teagan had picked her up in this morning. He doesn't know she came back for him and he's not about to.
He's lagging slightly behind so it's only when Lita turns to hear his rejoinder she notices his limp. It's slight; imperceptible to anyone that doesn't notices every little thing about him but to her it screams significance. Lita stops in her tracks, her gaze sweeping down to his leg and back up to his face. She puts a hand to his chest to halt his step.
"What is this? What's going on here?" Lita feels like she's been doused with cold water. He's been running around all day, trying to be everything to everyone and he's been hurting. "Why didn't you tell me?"