[Between this and this.]Matt's asleep in the infirmary; Andrew's got a couple of promises to keep.
First things first. He takes a seat at the bar, orders a breakfast to replace the one he abandoned, and starts composing a warning poster for the bulletin board between bites.
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She kind of also wants to tell him not to expect commitment, but -- that's not exactly what the problem was, and she's pretty sure it'd sound like she was just being That Bitter Ex.
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"Good. I mean, I think. That seems like a good place to start from."
She shrugs, wrapping her hands around her coffee. "And it's been a few years. He's probably gotten better about communicating."
She has! ... She thinks. She should ask Coyote, probably.
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Considering how quick the First has always been to take advantage of failures to communicate.
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She nods, and shrugs a little.
"You'll be okay."
She gives him a close look. "And make sure you are okay. Don't -- put yourself second."
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Putting himself first doesn't feel like the right thing to do, at all. Especially not when Matt's the one who's injured.
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She pokes him in the shoulder, gently. "You, specifically, Andrew Wells, not the editorial you."
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(Because Nita's a hero; and something in him still resists being in that category. Or at least being comfortable there.)
But her concern is still comforting, and it gets a small smile, wan but genuine.
"Thanks."