The zombie apocalypse is not really made for extroverts.
In a way, it’s the thing that brings Maggie and Sweets together, the needing to connect with someone despite the isolation of the world they live in, and if Sweets is being completely honest, going out to her farmhouse to hang out with her dogs is one of his favorite places to be. Spending time with real people and not having to regulate his life through a computer is pretty much a dream and a much better use of his profession than trying to shrink someone over video chat.
Plus there’s Maggie too.
In fact, Maggie’s pretty damn important.
So much so, that when she mentions having gotten shot in one of their video chats, he requires zero persuasion to make his way up to the farmhouse to take care of her. While he probably should be concerned about the bloody nature of a gunshot wound, he also doesn’t want her to be up there alone either. What he doesn’t anticipate is the entire After the End Times team being present with her, so when he opens the door and is met by both the dogs and the glaring faces of Georgia and Shaun Mason.
“Uh. Hi.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Lance. Sweets? I’m Maggie’s … ” He pauses as he tries to read the room on how to end that sentence. “ … friend.” There’s a pause as he looks up from the dogs for a moment, and then he squints at the woman to Shaun’s left. “… Aren’t you …”
“Don’t worry about it.” So Shaun Mason is ten times scarier in person, good to know. “Stay with the dogs. We’ll be right back.”
“Yes, sir,” he nods and tries not to jump as the front door slams behind them. He contents himself with just the dogs, scolding himself quietly for not having realized that of course her friends would be there, and quietly wondering how Georgia Mason is somehow alive after her very public execution, but that’s a complicated puzzle that he probably shouldn’t try to solve. Not if he wants to make it through this visit alive. So he just hangs out with the dogs, soaking in the silence, until the door slams open again and Shaun has returned, same glare still in place, but he gestures for Sweets to follow him inside.
“Maggie’s confirmed you are who you say you are.”
“Oh, good.” That much is a sigh of relief and he keeps one bulldog tucked under his arm as he makes his way inside. “Not that I was worried that she wouldn’t. We’re totally friends in good standing and all that.”
“Uh-huh.” Shaun doesn’t seem phased by the rambling, but he doesn’t seem endeared by it either, so Sweet just waits until he’s addressed again, which doesn’t take too long in the grand scheme of things. “So. What do you do, Lance?”
“I’m a psychologist.”
He honestly should have known better. The way Shaun almost fumbles is clear enough that that isn’t an answer that the other man is expecting and he scolds himself almost as soon as he says it. Not that he thinks lying would have been a better option, but maybe he should have tried to soften the blow a little. Maybe “works for the FBI” would have been a better play and not completely a lie.
“A psychologist.”
“ … Yeah?” He doesn’t really know how to answer that without sounding nervous but given Shaun’s reactions to things, he’s not really sure how else to phrase it. “Mostly I just work with the FBI, but I do have a few private clients.”
“The FBI?”
“Yeah, I provide counseling services to their agents.” He gives a bit of a half laugh before he continues. “I’m not a profiler or anything, I just make sure their agents can do well in the field.”
“Uh-huh.”
The tone of that phrase will never not be concerning, and he just swallows and continues to follow Shaun through the house, trying not to speak out of turn, because he is fairly certain that it would only dig him into a bigger hole. He’ll answer the questions that are asked of him, and not much else. That’s safer.
“You know, I have to say you’re one of my favorite Irwins. Your style is always the most engaging, you’re always willing to get right into things.”
It’s safer if he manages to actually keep his mouth shut. Clearly he can’t.
“Thanks.” The response is almost droning, as though it’s a compliment he’s not willing to accept at the moment, and that’s fair. Sweets really needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he just walks him to Maggie’s bedroom door, and gestures for him to head in ahead of her. “There you go. If you run into trouble, yell.”
“Oh, trust me. If I run into trouble, you will hear me.” There’s a pause as he realizes how awkward that is and shakes his head before heading inside. “Never mind. Thanks again.” And once he is in, the door closes behind him with a slight slam, and he blinks, before turning to Maggie. “Okay, so … your friends are more than a little terrifying.”
Maggie laughs, and it’s just such a nice thing to see her alive and in one piece and most importantly – not a zombie. “What are you doing here?”
“You mentioned you had gotten shot and I wanted to make sure you weren’t stuck here recovering on you own.” He makes his way over to sit on the edge of her bed with a small smile, before reaching forward to take her hand. “I should have figured that the rest of the staff would be around.”
“They probably won’t be around for long. They’ve still got a story to chase. So your company will be very much appreciated once they’re gone.”
“Good, I’m glad.” He smiles softly. She then inches over, gesturing so that he can sit closer. He takes that opening easily, only pausing to kick off his shoes, before settling in. “So. If I survived Shaun Mason, does that mean I can safely call you my girlfriend in their presence?”
She tips her head to the side confused, before she realizes what he means and laughs. “What did you tell them?”
“That I was your friend,” Sweets sighs, because he knows how wimpy that sounds. “It just didn’t seem like you had told them anything about me so I figured we’d work it out later.”
She laughs again, shaking her head before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek softly. “For future reference, you are absolutely allowed to call yourself my boyfriend.”
He grins a bit at that, leaning in to match her and nodding his agreement. “Good.” He’s wanted to call her his girlfriend for a while. He reaches for the remote from the nightstand and turns his attention back to the TV screen. “So. Now that your friends are chasing their story elsewhere, which horror movie are we going to start this marathon with?”
He’s fairly certain that she wouldn’t want to spend her downtime any other way.
sweets/maggie | bones/newsflesh | 1,200
In a way, it’s the thing that brings Maggie and Sweets together, the needing to connect with someone despite the isolation of the world they live in, and if Sweets is being completely honest, going out to her farmhouse to hang out with her dogs is one of his favorite places to be. Spending time with real people and not having to regulate his life through a computer is pretty much a dream and a much better use of his profession than trying to shrink someone over video chat.
Plus there’s Maggie too.
In fact, Maggie’s pretty damn important.
So much so, that when she mentions having gotten shot in one of their video chats, he requires zero persuasion to make his way up to the farmhouse to take care of her. While he probably should be concerned about the bloody nature of a gunshot wound, he also doesn’t want her to be up there alone either. What he doesn’t anticipate is the entire After the End Times team being present with her, so when he opens the door and is met by both the dogs and the glaring faces of Georgia and Shaun Mason.
“Uh. Hi.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Lance. Sweets? I’m Maggie’s … ” He pauses as he tries to read the room on how to end that sentence. “ … friend.” There’s a pause as he looks up from the dogs for a moment, and then he squints at the woman to Shaun’s left. “… Aren’t you …”
“Don’t worry about it.” So Shaun Mason is ten times scarier in person, good to know. “Stay with the dogs. We’ll be right back.”
“Yes, sir,” he nods and tries not to jump as the front door slams behind them. He contents himself with just the dogs, scolding himself quietly for not having realized that of course her friends would be there, and quietly wondering how Georgia Mason is somehow alive after her very public execution, but that’s a complicated puzzle that he probably shouldn’t try to solve. Not if he wants to make it through this visit alive. So he just hangs out with the dogs, soaking in the silence, until the door slams open again and Shaun has returned, same glare still in place, but he gestures for Sweets to follow him inside.
“Maggie’s confirmed you are who you say you are.”
“Oh, good.” That much is a sigh of relief and he keeps one bulldog tucked under his arm as he makes his way inside. “Not that I was worried that she wouldn’t. We’re totally friends in good standing and all that.”
“Uh-huh.” Shaun doesn’t seem phased by the rambling, but he doesn’t seem endeared by it either, so Sweet just waits until he’s addressed again, which doesn’t take too long in the grand scheme of things. “So. What do you do, Lance?”
“I’m a psychologist.”
He honestly should have known better. The way Shaun almost fumbles is clear enough that that isn’t an answer that the other man is expecting and he scolds himself almost as soon as he says it. Not that he thinks lying would have been a better option, but maybe he should have tried to soften the blow a little. Maybe “works for the FBI” would have been a better play and not completely a lie.
“A psychologist.”
“ … Yeah?” He doesn’t really know how to answer that without sounding nervous but given Shaun’s reactions to things, he’s not really sure how else to phrase it. “Mostly I just work with the FBI, but I do have a few private clients.”
“The FBI?”
“Yeah, I provide counseling services to their agents.” He gives a bit of a half laugh before he continues. “I’m not a profiler or anything, I just make sure their agents can do well in the field.”
“Uh-huh.”
The tone of that phrase will never not be concerning, and he just swallows and continues to follow Shaun through the house, trying not to speak out of turn, because he is fairly certain that it would only dig him into a bigger hole. He’ll answer the questions that are asked of him, and not much else. That’s safer.
“You know, I have to say you’re one of my favorite Irwins. Your style is always the most engaging, you’re always willing to get right into things.”
It’s safer if he manages to actually keep his mouth shut. Clearly he can’t.
“Thanks.” The response is almost droning, as though it’s a compliment he’s not willing to accept at the moment, and that’s fair. Sweets really needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he just walks him to Maggie’s bedroom door, and gestures for him to head in ahead of her. “There you go. If you run into trouble, yell.”
“Oh, trust me. If I run into trouble, you will hear me.” There’s a pause as he realizes how awkward that is and shakes his head before heading inside. “Never mind. Thanks again.” And once he is in, the door closes behind him with a slight slam, and he blinks, before turning to Maggie. “Okay, so … your friends are more than a little terrifying.”
Maggie laughs, and it’s just such a nice thing to see her alive and in one piece and most importantly – not a zombie. “What are you doing here?”
“You mentioned you had gotten shot and I wanted to make sure you weren’t stuck here recovering on you own.” He makes his way over to sit on the edge of her bed with a small smile, before reaching forward to take her hand. “I should have figured that the rest of the staff would be around.”
“They probably won’t be around for long. They’ve still got a story to chase. So your company will be very much appreciated once they’re gone.”
“Good, I’m glad.” He smiles softly. She then inches over, gesturing so that he can sit closer. He takes that opening easily, only pausing to kick off his shoes, before settling in. “So. If I survived Shaun Mason, does that mean I can safely call you my girlfriend in their presence?”
She tips her head to the side confused, before she realizes what he means and laughs. “What did you tell them?”
“That I was your friend,” Sweets sighs, because he knows how wimpy that sounds. “It just didn’t seem like you had told them anything about me so I figured we’d work it out later.”
She laughs again, shaking her head before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek softly. “For future reference, you are absolutely allowed to call yourself my boyfriend.”
He grins a bit at that, leaning in to match her and nodding his agreement. “Good.” He’s wanted to call her his girlfriend for a while. He reaches for the remote from the nightstand and turns his attention back to the TV screen. “So. Now that your friends are chasing their story elsewhere, which horror movie are we going to start this marathon with?”
He’s fairly certain that she wouldn’t want to spend her downtime any other way.