She can't help it. There is just something absurd about this picture that it makes her want to laugh, though for his benefit she covers her mouth slightly. The result is something of a choked giggle, but it is better than openly laughing.
"This gives entirely new meaning to stopping and smelling the roses," she says after a deep breath, a smile wide across her face. "It's not bad and I'm not judging, but you have to imagine it from my perspective."
Which isn't to say that she's not enjoying the view. Just a little bit.
He straightens right up, ramrod spine, and stays that way with his back to her for a very long moment as he tries to compose himself (or just get his cheeks to stop being the color they are). "How long have you been standing there?" he asks, turning with a bunch of peonies in his hand, approaching her with them and clearing his throat.
"Not very long," she admits though not before toying around with the idea of letting him believe that she'd seen everything. Coupled with the contained laughter that might just be a little too mean. She does like him after all and this thing, whatever it is, is too new to jinx like that.
"I didn't see anything embarrassing, if that's what you're worried about."
McCoy clears his throat and he can't help his rueful smile, still pleased because he gets to look at her, gets to be around her. "Well, then, let's count it a win," he says, shifting the flowers so they're petals first as he presents them to her. "They're for you, incidentally."
"Okay, let's." She blushes slightly, faint against the tan that she's somehow managed to keep. That's one silly superficial thing that she can be proud of. She couldn't imagine being sunburned forever.
Reaching out she takes the flowers and gives them a sniff. "Ooh, I like them. Thank you."
He goes red. Hell, he goes embarrassingly red and it's all over some goddamn flowers that he's given a woman. "Least I could do, really," he gruffly remarks, trying to be humble. "I mean, I grabbed 'em from the side of the road, it's not like I went all out..."
He should really try something else before he gets stuck in this rut of muttering on. "You busy?"
She finds the red to be cute. It is in her nature to compare this to what she's known before, but she fights against that. It doesn't do either of them any good to linger on their respective failed marriages.
Jean shakes her head, still smiling. "Nope. I was, but not anymore."
"I've got a couple of new strains growing in the garden and I was wondering if you'd take a look," he says, jutting his thumb over to the house. "And before you ask, it really isn't a euphemism, I've got a set of plants not doing so well and I could use a second set of eyes with the formula."
"I didn't think it was." Jean knows better than to assume that everything was a euphemism. In fact the part of her brain that still has traces of Hank's mind immediately switched onto the science path.
"Of course. It'll be nice. Things have been quiet lately. I could something to do. Always."
"Well, anytime things get too quiet and you don't feel like spending time on your lonesome, you know you can knock on my door, right?" he reminds her, because even if he has moments where he doesn't know how to do this, he needs to try his damnedest.
"This gives entirely new meaning to stopping and smelling the roses," she says after a deep breath, a smile wide across her face. "It's not bad and I'm not judging, but you have to imagine it from my perspective."
Which isn't to say that she's not enjoying the view. Just a little bit.
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"I didn't see anything embarrassing, if that's what you're worried about."
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Reaching out she takes the flowers and gives them a sniff. "Ooh, I like them. Thank you."
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He should really try something else before he gets stuck in this rut of muttering on. "You busy?"
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Jean shakes her head, still smiling. "Nope. I was, but not anymore."
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"Of course. It'll be nice. Things have been quiet lately. I could something to do. Always."
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