He waited. Eyes unfocused, alone in the elevator. He paused for a brief moment, as it fell with a 'thud' to his floor and cast a sideways glance to the couch in the Shay's apartment. She lay there, I quite sated smile upon her face, paint-ball gun at her side.
"... I won!" she proclaimed, taking notice of him, as he 'plopped' with a deep sigh onto the empty space on the sofa next to her. "... I won!" she continued, "I FINALLY beat out Spencer, Mama's 'da champ ..."
"Yeah ... great." he responds, though not really interested.
Her blue eyes roll lazily in his direction, staring blankly for a moment at the forlorn little 'tech-geek', before breaking the silence.
"So ... I take it you talked to Carls ..."
"Yeah ..."
"And?"
"I'm (You're) her bacon(?)" They say in unison.
"... Yeah ..." he breathes, "... I guess I am ..."
Resting his head on the back of the worn sofa, a startling realization comes to mind - causing his eyes to widen in recognition.
"I just 'broke up' with Carly Shay!" his cries, breaking the proclamation in a pained whimper. "I must be outta my mind!"
She looks at him, a sly 'Sam-ish' smirk painting it's way across her lips.
"... Nah ..." she mutters, "... you're not exactly 'wacky-shack' material YET, Benson ... your Mom, definitely, you, not so much ... "
He peers up at her, his expression, a mix of both shock, and a curious kind of interest.
"... Carly's great and all, but she's so sweet, and soft, and weak." Sam continues, "... she's too much LIKE you, Fredhead ... nah, what a dweeb like you needs is someone with a backbone, someone to push ya around and tell ya what ta do ... you're too soft, nubb ..."
"... a backbone, huh?" He quirks an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing its way across his face as well. "... just where do you propose I find a girl like that, Puckette?"
He can almost swear he's witnessing a blush forming on her cheeks, which only proves the theory that he's lost his mind, blushing is HARDLY an attribute of The Great Sam Puckette.
"... Dunno ..." she responds, indifferently, "... Our schools full 'a softies - but ... you keep lookin', I'm sure you'll find the right one ..."
"Yeah ..." he answers, his smile brightening, as he thanks her, and she merely shrugs him off.
"Hey, Benson?" she calls, as his foot taps the ground beyond the doorway.
"Yeah?" he pauses, turning back to face her, only to find that she's averted his gaze, having somehow made it to the refrigerator - no doubt looking for meat-by products.
"... I hate you ..." her tone almost ... light ... joking - like on the fire-escape - he forces the thought from his mind, and fight's the smirk that is looming behind his lips.
"I hate you, too ..." he turns, and his smirk breaks through.