Re: log - helena & wes
[He was prone to it—to being relaxed, laid back, going with the flow. In fact, he enjoyed it so much, he did his damnedest to avoid the yoke of responsibility that often crushed out any good vibes one had going. But this—working in a store, he could do that. That wasn't responsibility really. The man wasn't lazy. He didn't mind work.—Wes smiled when Helena promised no offense was taken and he nodded at her congenially.] If I have coffee, I promise to try to be on my toes.
[The tour was largely self-explanatory. Except for those cameras. Or, perhaps they were and he just hadn't expected that level of dedication in a small town grocery store. He didn't think on it too hard, especially not when his new employer was leaning in closer, a whisper on her lips. Wes grinned right back at her.] Ahh. [He looked at her like he had her number now.] That's your secret. [Having spent a lot of time around the same people—for years and years, the man sometimes forgot there were boundaries of a certain sort most others had, that those you essentially lived and worked with didn't. He didn't realize until the words were out of his mouth that he might have overstepped. If he'd been a less earnest person, maybe he could have played it off. As it was, he just allowed himself to look a little pained, safe behind the protective wall of his mug.] Bad move?
[As for the work, that was easier. And the coffee easier still.] I think I can stretch it to two days, if I'm conservative about it. [But, he nodded.] Yes. Ready. Wait—[He drained his cup, let the hot liquid settle in his stomach, then nodded again, firmer. His smile was cheeky.] Okay, now I'm ready. [He shooed the now-empty mug toward her a little bit, easy and teasing. He didn't want to keep holding her up with his bad jokes.] Go. You've been up for hours, running on the world's smallest thermos of coffee, and I'm not a cruel man.