In Kenya, it is not quite sunrise and Steph has just had
a troubling conversation with Babs.
She looks at the phone in her hand, and sighs, stuffing it into her pocket and getting to her feet. Today's going to be busy, and she doesn't really feel up to it. Which means she probably needs to go and try to get a little more sleep.
But the door of the
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"Steph, lass, its been too long."
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"Aye, it is. Do ye recall why we became such good friends?"
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"No-oo-oot really. I could guess though. Probably 'cause you're cute."
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There's an older look in his eyes, maybe explaining what happened to her is a bad idea.
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Steph grins, suddenly, wide and bright.
"I've been to Sherwood Forest. Sweeeet."
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But she's still eyeing him. "So ... what is it you aren't telling me?"
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"That ye were dead when we met."
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It makes sense.
"And now I'm ... not."
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From what she'd told him of her death, it was a horrible way to die. Though now she's survived it, which is hard in another way.
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"Me, too," she says, quietly. "Although ..."
Survivor's guilt is a bitch, too.
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He unties his sleeve to show her the scar there,
"Part o'why we're such friends is I've lived too."
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"I think I understand," she says softly, gratefully.
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Because she's Steph and she was there for him so he will be for her.
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