"Are we? I think I like that interpretation." It's certainly nicer than the self-loathing he's been drowning himself in these past few weeks.

Jefferson lets out an amused snort as she very nearly sprays her tea out with laughter. This is quite possibly the most relaxed he's felt since his accident, and there's this brief spike of resentment that he has to hide out at work to find any measure of contentment, when he should by all rights have it at home, too.

"Why? Do you get drunk and jump in front of cars often?"