Stable
"Hey, Gabi," he calls suddenly one day after summer and autumn and winter have passed, and another year and another, after she's given up waiting for it, so she doesn't even look up from her book.
"Hmm?"
"Would I be correct in assuming that you managed to tuck away some of the money from my bigger accounts before they locked it all?"
She blushes slightly.
"What can I say? I never intended to touch it myself; it was before I found out what happened to you. I knew you didn't stand a chance, and I thought I could at least try to make sure you were comfortable while you were running and hiding."
He looks up sharply at this.
"Don't you mean we?"
"No," she replies flatly.
"What? Why?"
"I never expected you to come find me. I didn't think you cared enough anymore."
"Women," he mutters, rubbing his eyes. He watches her carefully until her features relax, and then continues. "I had an idea. You think we should go back to the island to see what's left of the facilities?"
"I'll have to quit my job," she says after a long moment of silence, carefully concealing her enthusiasm leaping instantly to life at this idea, "and I hate to do it, when we've just gotten settled."
"It's just a job."
"There won't be a lot left."
"That's fine. We'll start over."
"It's a dangerous idea."
"Who's going back there? I'm still dead, remember?"
"If they see activity, they might--"
"What exactly do you think I'm going to do?"
"I don't know; what are you going to do?"
He laughs.
"I haven't been watching TV while you're out fetching and filing for your lawyer. I've got something in mind. Ever wanted to be a toy-maker?"
She smiles.
"A toy-maker."
"Yeah; you like kids, right? It's perfect. It'll be like before. Y-you know, sort of. You do the public crap, I'll come up with the ideas. We'll put the factory on the island. No one'll know I'm involved. They'll think you picked it all up from me or something."
"I highly doubt that."
"You worry too much. We'll work out the bugs when we get there."
A long silence. It's whimsical, and fanciful, and utterly, utterly impractical.
But it's something. Her smile grows.
"Works for me."