Perhaps We'll Meet Another Day

This Isn't Our Home

Law and Tara were plunged into an awkward silence after Margaret took her leave, the only sound was the occasional creak of the trailer and the noise of people talking outside. The redhead stood with crossed arms, leg bouncing nervously as she tried to think of something to say, anything to break the tense air that sat between them. He really wasn't one to start off conversations, and he wasn't about to start now. Though, he was still interested in the supplies they had available.

Instead of partaking in the awkward glances that Tara seemed to be sending in his direction, all the while tucking her hair over and over again behind her ear, Law let his gaze mingle over the counters again, then past the redhead to the curtained room where the medications apparently were. He pushed off from the counter and began walking back there, which apparently brought Tara from her silent funk as she hurried to grab his arm.

"Hey, you're not supposed to go back there." She warned, though her words slowly became quieter until the last word was little more than a mutter. When he stopped to turn back and look at her curiously, she let go of his arm quickly, wringing her hands out of nerves. "I'm uh...I'm the only one who's allowed behind there." She finished with a stutter.

"Says who?" Law challenged, raising a brow.

"Margaret. She doesn't want people stealing the medication, so I'm the only one allowed...back there." Tara explained, shrugging with an embarrassed laugh. "But, I guess that rule was more for the people who weren't 'medically trained'...like me." She air quoted, mocking her own self-description. Not once did her brown eyes meet his for more than a split second.

Law could practically see the woman sweating where she stood. This girl's nerves certainly ruled her, perhaps more than was healthy. By the looks of it, she knew it too, but didn't quite know how to combat it.

Had he trusted her more, he would have felt a bit more sympathy. But he didn't. Shrugging at the given explanation, he continued closer to the curtain. "I'd say I'm the exception to that rule."

"D-did Margaret say you could?" She asked, watching as he pulled the curtain aside and stepped into what had once been a bedroom area.

His eyes took on a mischievous glint, but he didn't turn to look her way. "Well, she didn't specifically say I couldn't."

Law stepped further in, inspecting the walls with interest. It was obvious the trailer had been customized with the walls of shelves that were installed in the side, holding bottles and bottles of medications and creams. They were crude, and somewhat uneven, but they were sturdy and did the job.

The bed had been taken out, leaving a wide open space where he could walk into. Covering the floor was a dirty rug, probably just to fill the space and covering where the rivets had held the bed in place. As he stepped over the brown, shag material, he could feel a raised bump here and there where one of the bolts had been.

Stepping closer to the shelves, he could feel Tara hovering close behind him, no doubt fretting over what he was doing. With a minute shake of his head, he ignored her for the moment and reached out for the closest bottle on the shelf.

"I just...organized those, if you don't remember." Tara mentioned, silently asking him not to touch it.

"Relax." Law said, sighing deeply as he turned the bottle over to see the back. Where they'd gotten intense probiotics and some of the more specific medications was beyond him, but he was undoubtedly impressed by their stock of medicine. His fingers drifted lazily over the bottles, recognizing some brands names and others being unfamiliar to him. All the while Tara stood behind him, fretting constantly. He could almost feel her uneasiness, the thick awkwardness in the air, it was stifling.