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[He thought he might have to clarify, but she seems to understand quickly enough, so that he doesn't have to.]

So you wanted me to match you, too?

[She gapes a moment, trying to summon up some kind of reply that wouldn't sound lame until finally she just sort of...

Gives up.]

Well, I - yeah? [In Kate's mind? At best she probably looks like his dowdy little sidekick.] I mean I know I could dress up but - [All but snorting.] Me?

[Shaking her head. People would accept him in jeans and a t-shirt but she didn't think she could pull off a dress and heels the way say.

Santanico could.]

You what?

[He follows, but he doesn't agree. Not even remotely.]

You've already done it. And well, I might add. I was there, remember?

[And now she does snort, a gentle roll of her eyes to accompany the shake of her head.]

That's different. That's like, putting on a dress for Prom or something.

[It was much like what she was saying before, how she knew a thing or two about people not taking you seriously because of how you look.

The difference being - in Kate's mind - that if she were to dress up on a daily basis, she'd just look like a little girl who was trying to appear older.]

That most definitely wasn't prom.

[He might be slightly looking at her like she's crazy, like where did she even get that idea.]

You're not some kid, Kate. And even then, I'm not talking about some glitzy ballgown. Ever try a basic cocktail dress?

Edited 2017-01-28 18:37 (UTC)

Yeah, well. I'm not Santanico, either. [Those words coming out before she can stop them.

The stupid thing? She's actually okay with not being like Santanico. They're just, two very different women and while it's in many ways, intimidating given Richie's former relationship with her, Kate isn't actually trying to measure up - at least, not on a conscious level.

A soft sigh escapes, Kate realizing exactly how that had to have sounded.

Voice softening;]

I don't want to look like some little girl who's been playing dress ups in her older cousin's closet.

[His expression falters, his lips pressing together and his eyebrows furrowing. He doesn't look pained, exactly, but it was a blow all the same.]

No. [The word comes out firmly.] You're not.

[He doesn't want her to be Santanico. Not by a long shot. And he's not talking about her wearing the kind of stuff Santanico would wear.]

You're not a little girl, Kate. You're someone who dealt with a lot of shit really fast and you handled it a hell of a lot better than most.

[She can feel the change in the air, knows she's the reason for the shift in atmosphere and while she's frustrated at herself, she's almost as frustrated at Richie for not getting it. She expects him to just understand what she's saying but she doesn't realize he can't. He doesn't see her the way she sees herself.

Talk of the past sees an invisible wall go up between them, Kate always cautious when it came to anything like this. She dealt with her pain by focusing on everyone else around her, by shoving everything into a box for her to look through later and then never going back to it.

This line of conversation, she wasn't expecting and she's only too quick to edge it away.]

That - [Shaking her head.] Doesn't have anything to do with the way I look.

Yes, it does.

[He starts to gesture with his hands vaguely, the way he does when he's trying to explain something.]

It's about a whole package. People believe what they believe based on what they see and what they feel. If you dress like and adult and act like an adult, you'll be seen as one. If you dress like an adult but act like a child, that's when people start to question what they see. If you own it, people trust it.

[Why do you think he wears suits, Kate. If he dresses like he has his shit together and acts like he has his shit together, everyone thinks he does.]

You project your own persona of what you want others to see you as, not the other way around.

Well... maybe I don't want to own it Richie. Maybe I'm, perfectly okay with being a kid. Because, that's what I'm supposed to be.

[But she wasn't a kid, not anymore. He knew that and if she were being honest? She did too. A part of her may have wished that she could go back to that simplicity but that wasn't how life worked. You don't go back.]

Then you don't have to. But don't blame it on what other people will think.

[Which was his whole convoluted point. It just takes him awhile to get there.]

But I don't think that's what you really want. To be treated like a kid.

[Because really, Kate? You want him to treat her like a child? Yeah, I don't think so.]

[Kate lets out a frustrated grunt-like sigh, her fingers running back through her hair as she tries yet again to pull her emotions into line. The problem is, that she knows she's frustrated, she just doesn't completely understand why.]

You really think it's that simple, don't you? [Eyebrows knitting together as she stares at him.] I go put on a dress and suddenly everyone sees me as an adult. Somebody they finally have to listen to. Somebody who looks like they - [Her hand lifts, motioning to him.] Belong with you.

[And Richie Gecko skids to a stop. Hold on. Let his brain restart.

It's darkly humorous that she associates dressing up with having someone listen to her. That didn't exactly work for him perfectly, either.

Shut up, Richard.

Does your brilliant fucking mind understand that?]

Sometimes you have to make people listen to you. [His voice sounds dry in a way. Darker.] And you either belong with me or you don't. That's not up to anyone else.

[And she's just, going to shake her head because he really doesn't get it.]

Maybe that works for you. [But it's never worked for her. She tried to make Seth listen to her, and he walked away. She tried to make Scott listen to her. And he walked away.] The only way you can get somebody to listen, is when they want to.

[And from her body language, the tension that's going through her, the way she's pushed back against the arm of the couch as she folds her arms across her chest - even Richard Gecko would be able to see he's struck an unfortunate nerve.]

[He looks peeved too, as if annoyed that he can't even apparently fulfill his own advice as he thinks of all the times someone's blatantly shrugged him off or called him the dumb one. Sometimes he could get them to listen, sometimes he couldn't.

That said...]

I listen to you.

[And with four, simple words, he deflates her whole argument, Kate's shoulders slumping, her eyes half closing, her arms dropping down into her lap. He did listen to her. He always had. He was probably one of the only people who did.]

I know. [Voice quiet, her lips pressing into a grim line as she finally lifts her gaze to look at him.

A part of her knows, that this conversation spun out of control, not because of him, but because of the five million issues that she has never actually dealt with.]

And - I know it's not up to anyone else. [Them.] But is it really so crazy to want other people to look at us and think it makes sense?

No.

[His voice is equally quiet as he looks over at her.]

It's not crazy. [And not just because he hates that word, either.] I asked for the same thing, remember?

[Even if he only asked for one particularly chance to do so.]

[Her eyes narrow infinitesimally, Kate not entirely sure they were meaning the same thing though she supposed, it was possible. She didn't want people to look at them and know they were together because they were color matched. She just, wanted people to not... side eye the fuck out of them.

She is not, however, going to keep pushing because she doesn't actually want to have this argument. She doesn't want to argue at all she was just, frustrated, with so many things that had nothing to do with Richie.

He had, however, in no way convinced her that she could pull off a cocktail dress and she'd in no way convinced him that she couldn't. Sometimes you just had to let the stalemate be.]

I know. [Her hand stretching out, palm up on the couch between them, an offer for him to take it.]

[In his head, it makes sense. If they dress the part, if they own it, maybe other people will believe it, understand it.

And Kate wonders why he's only ever had one girlfriend.

He reaches out for her hand, threading their fingers together, sitting in the silence for a moment while his mind travels, making leaps that he tends to not let other people in on.]

You hungry?

[Random, maybe, but he still get concerns from time to time about her health, which is always on his mind considering he can always, well, see the source of why she might not be right on her neck.]

[She immediately relaxes as their fingers entwine, her shoulders lifting and falling with the soft, content sigh she exhales and she finds a kind of peace in the silence, content to just exist with him, without the constant back and forth.

Her eyebrows raise, a flicker of surprise there because yes... how the fuck do you get to food from the rest of it and so of course, Kate's immediate thought is that for him to bring it up, he must be hungry.]

When did we last... [Her head tilting because apparently she still can't say words like a big girl.]

[For once, he knows exactly what she's alluding to.]

It's been about thirty hours.

[So not super long, but not recent.]

But I'm not asking about me.

[The face she makes says it all, that she thinks they've gone too long. He doesn't really take much when he feeds, she knows that much.]

I can eat anytime I feel like it. You can't.

[And here he was trying to worry about her and... she's worried about him.]

Yeah, I can. I eat steak and shit. It helps.

[Oh good, more bickering. Nothing like getting defensive for having someone else worry about you when you're just worried about someone else.]

What I don't have to do is worry about things like anemia.

[Fucking seriously, Richard. We had peace for all of three seconds.

Excuse Kate while she rolls her eyes out of her head, pulls her hand free from his and leans back, staring at him like 'why fucking this?!']

So I guess that means you don't need me then? [I mean... she knows that he does but he got weirdly defensive and she doesn't get why so now she's going to get weirdly defensive. This is great.]

I don't have anemia. [Nose wrinkling.

Except actually maybe does?]

[His mouth opens in reply and then closes because what the fuck is he supposed to say to that? Technically he doesn't; she was the one that completely refused to go along with his initial plan. That said, he had a thing for the...thing they had, but that didn't mean-]

I'm just worried about you. And I've been doing some research.

[Probably sometimes while she's asleep and he isn't.]

We just need to make sure you have enough iron in your diet. Otherwise you'll have to deal with a whole bunch of crap that I don't think you really want.

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