Joey shrunk a little, shyly, under what looked like Sam's staring after she'd turned, but she looked hopeful, all the same, when he said that he had a lighter on him. It would be infinitely better to sterilize with alcohol than with flame, but better with flame than with regular bar soap. She watched him looking through his pockets only to come up short and Joey shrugged. "It's just that kind of day, I guess..." she intoned.
Gesturing for him to come closer, Joey turned on the kitchen faucet to wash her own hands and to let him try to wash his so that she'd be able to see better and so that the stitches wouldn't get infected. "Do you have thread?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.