"Are you alright?" she asked, concern playing through her features.
"No," he said calmly, "I'm sorry."
"T-thank you," she muttered, averting her eyes.
"And to make it real...I need to..." she sang quietly, feather duster conveying her movement.
"Hey..." he said, slightly on the rude side, tapping his foot. She turned around abruptly.
"Oh..." she began, "I didn't see you..." He held up his hand, signalling her to stop.
"I'll get right to it..." she whispered, hurrying to her task.
"The whole thing's a damn mess..." he ranted, slamming down his cup for emphasis, "It'll take years...maybe months..." Her eyes were glazed over, in that half dreamy state.
"You still there?" he said, waving his hand in front of her face. She jumped.
"I can help," she said quietly. He rolled his eyes.
"What are you doing, woman!?" he was yelling, watching as she threw things out the window, a nonchalant expression on her face.
"Cleaning," she said quietly, "I haven't the patience..."
"Patience?!" he continued, his voice a cacophony of words, "I'll show you patience..."
"Don't" she said, sounding a little more forceful than usual, "Don't you ever talk to me about patience..."
"So how're ya holdin up?" he muttered into the phone, sounding of static and regret.
"Fine..." she said with words minced by distance, "I have plenty of work to get to..."
"Look," he said softly, the distortion making him hard to hear, "I'm..."
"Sorry," she said hastily, "I know."
"I would like..." he said, words being cut off by the payphone's time limit.
"I want to come back too..." she whispered to the dial tone, "...just not yet."
"Surprised?" he asked, shifting nervously on his feet. She gave him a shy grin.
"I guess..." she said, fiddling with the wrench, "...why are you here?"
"Cause I'm an idiot," he muttered grudgingly, "...and I missed ya."
"Oh," she said, handing him another wrench, "...help?"
"It was beautiful," he said, taking a sip of her tea, "So huge..."
"I like it when you tell stories," she said suddenly, without thought. He grinned.
"Stories, eh?" he said with a low tone. She gave him him a quizzical look.
"So...you can tell if I'm lyin?" he said slyly. She nodded.
"Well..." he said, nervously fiddling with his spoon, "You're an alright gal."
"Not lying," she said, grinning.
"You confuse me," he said, plopping down on the couch, "Why the hell do ya put up with me?"
"Hmmph..." she muttered to herself, "Oblivious."
"Well?" he said impatiently.
"I'm just...patient..." she answered, "Certain things are worth waiting for. You should know that better than anyone."
"I guess..." he said slowly, "...better get back to work then, huh?" She nodded.
"You even fixed this?" he said, holding up the part in question. She nodded, but barely.
"...I-guess-I-should-tell-ya..." he muttered quickly.
"What?" she said absently, wiping a grease smudge onto her forehead accidentally.
"You've got something on ya..." he said, deftly wiping it away with his thumb. She blinked for a moment, as if startled by the contact.
"Yes?" she said with open eyed innocence. He cleared his throat.
"Er...nothin" he said, quickly walking away.
"Where'd these come from...?" she asked, noticing some daisies in a teapot on the table.
"Hmm..." he said, casually strolling into the room, "Whaddya starin at?" She grinned.
"Oh...nothing," she said, turning to the kitchen sink, hiding her wide smile.
"...Listen..." he said, pacing around the room, "...before I lose my nerve..."
"Calm down Captain," she said cheerily, "I'll make you some tea..."
"Stop callin me Captain!" he said forcefully, making her jump a little. He groaned.
"What I mean is..." he said quietly, eyes downcast, "...I love ya, Shera."
"...I know..." she whispered back, "...I was just..."
"Waiting?" he said quickly. She nodded.
"...because...I...I..." she stammered, the muscles in her throat contracting, "......love you...Cid."
"See?" he said, smirking, "It isn't so hard to call me Cid."
"...Don't push it," she said teasingly, "...you might test my patience."
Author's Note: Song Shera is singing in the second conversation is Home Now by No Doubt.
Yes, I do realize Cid isn't cursing enough...I didn't want to give it away on account of that...so I tried to pick out parts of conversations when he isn't cursing as much...and I didn't describe him smoking...just imagine that he is :)