With all the moving out of the way, Sam had turned his attention to cleaning today; while the place was in pretty good condition, it hadn't exactly been in the most spotless condition
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His responding smile wasn't quite so easy, but at least it was there.
"Hey, Marie," he responded, toasting her with his nearly-empty bottle. "It's still weird to see you in shorts . . . what brings you to my humble little pad?"
"I'm getting there, I think." Sam glanced over his shoulder into the mobile home and shrugged. "The advantage of not having a whole lot of stuff, huh? Barely any unpacking to do. I know this sounds kind of weird, but . . . it seems big compared to some of the places I've lived."
"I didn't have much either. One of the downsides of living in someone else's home for ten years," she said. "Of course, I moved in with Lana when I got here, so it's not like I have my own place still."
"Better to have a place with friends than your own place alone." Sam flicked the butt of his cigarette out into the street to hide the sudden vehemence in his tone. "Think I'd be used to this by now, but not really. It was easier when I didn't know if all of you guys were still alive or not."
"I am, but . . ." Sam frowned. "I guess it's just easier being alone when you don't have anybody you're close to nearby, you know? Maybe I'm just not used to having friends around any more, or something."
Marie patted Sam's knee. "I think you probably need to get used to it," she said. "Besides, you don't have to always be alone. We don't live that far away."
"Yeah, I guess." He glanced down, still a little surprised that she was touching his knee barehanded. "But isn't Piper there now, too? She never liked me."
"Yeah, well, I didn't like you in high school either, remember?" she asked lightly. "Except for when I was possessed. Then I liked you a little too much."
"Yeah." Sam remembered that incident a little too well. "Or when we weren't ourselves."
He nudged her lightly with his knee and reached for one of the beers she'd brought after finishing off the last mouthful of the one in his hand. "You like me better now, though, right?"
Sam rolled his eyes lightly at the reminder and put a beer in her hand. "Yeah, not so much, considering the last guy I slept with . . ." He hesitated. "Well, he's dead now, motherfrakker, that was not supposed to happen."
"I'm sorry," Marie said, popping her beer bottle open and then squeezing his knee again. "But I'm not dating anyone, so the guys in town are fair game," she added, trying to lighten the mood back up.
Deciding to make good on her promise to leave the past in the past, she stopped at the store and picked up a six pack of beer to take over to him.
It was warm, but she left her bike at home and walked over, wearing a pair of denim cut offs and a tank top with her flip flops.
"Hey, stranger," she said with an easy smile when she spotted him on the porch.
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"Hey, Marie," he responded, toasting her with his nearly-empty bottle. "It's still weird to see you in shorts . . . what brings you to my humble little pad?"
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"I didn't have much either. One of the downsides of living in someone else's home for ten years," she said. "Of course, I moved in with Lana when I got here, so it's not like I have my own place still."
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He nudged her lightly with his knee and reached for one of the beers she'd brought after finishing off the last mouthful of the one in his hand. "You like me better now, though, right?"
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Especially not with Phoebe in town. That could complicate things somehow or other.
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