[RL] We spent some time just talking.

[creepyshitking]

[ After dinner was done, and the kids were in bed, Dexter gathered their beer and inclined his head in the direction of the sliding glass door - the obvious implication that Deb should follow him out

Comments

[betterasshole]

[ This was the last place Debra wanted to be right now. Throughout the entire dinner, she put in the least amount of effort necessary to trick the kids into thinking everything was okay--which consisted of giving a half-smile every time someone made a joke, and she thought it worked--but even that was difficult when all she wanted to do was curl up in bed for a week. Going to work by itself to keep up with appearances had been a nightmare, and now this... this was Hell.

As soon as Dexter tilted his head, she knew exactly what was coming--that she was in for possibly the worst conversation she'd ever fucking had in her life--even worse than the one she anticipated having with Quinn when he came back from his poorly-timed trip--and she suddenly felt bad for forcing him into the conversations that she did. Karma's a bitch. Well, at least she got some things worked out before this during her phone call with Spike of all people, so this wouldn't be a complete disaster

[creepyshitking]

Okay. [ He turned to the rail, opening a beer and leaning over.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the only thing that came to mind really wasn't productive, conducive, or helpful - for either of them.

Somehow he didn't think, 'Do you want me to kill him again?' would go over so well.

After all, he had promised Brian he wouldn't. And he hadn't hurt Debra, not physically. He knew Brian was killing again, but he had no proof. His brother didn't fit the Code. Not now.

Perhaps he didn't want to admit he didn't want to look for proof, either.

Slowly, he turned to his sister. There was only one topic that could derail them from this, at least for a while. ]

I told you Rita was there? At the party. It was strange, like a dream.

[betterasshole]

[ Deb turned to the rail too, but unlike Dexter, she didn't go back to facing him--not entirely--she just glanced at him a few times when he was talking about the party, but she couldn't look at him while she was responding. Somehow she had a feeling that would be a common theme during this conversation. ]

I can't even imagine. [ She was incredibly grateful for his subject change, even if it meant going down a different emotional path. ]

[creepyshitking]

[He notes her lack of eye-contact, though he isn't sure what it means.]

.. Should I not talk about this? About Rita, I mean.