The way that they know each other certainly makes this all easier, makes it possible, even, for these two guarded and skeptical people to come together - but it doesn't make it automatic, either. The regard they have between them could easily have stayed familial, my brother's best friend since forever, my best friend's little sister, end of story, their bond made from their circumstances and fondness and nothing more. But since their earliest days they have had this resonance, instinctive and comforting, chords in tune when so much else is dissonance. That kindred who is just on the same wavelength, without trying. Add to all that the attraction that's between them now and it is, in Adelaide's opinion, some of the luckiest goddamn serendipitous alchemy she's ever seen.
And so sitting there with him, side by side, Adelaide makes a little sound that hints at a laugh at his joke, and rests her temple against his arm. It's hard to imagine what it must have been like for him today inside what was left of his house, except that it isn't, really. Rob is a decent mental stand-in for what Lori's been to Sarge, a long-time sort-of partner where children and homelife were involved, more dissonant than harmonious, but familiar which is something significant to people like them. It wasn't love in either case, but Adelaide knows she would not be doing well if it was Rob's broken body she'd recovered today. "Really should check the floorplan before she goes giving out directions," Adelaide murmurs, while Sarge looks unenthusiastic about the food, and really Adelaide isn't one to push with things like this - just like with Rodeo's leg, Sarge isn't stupid and he's not likely to wither away if he doesn't eat tonight.
But then she's wrinkling her nose, shaking her head. "I like to hope even he isn't shameless enough for that," she says. "But if the inferno does become necessary, at least let me pack a bag first. Losing all my material possessions is really getting old."