09 | i mean funny like i'm clown, like i amuse you?

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Miles had insisted on paying despite Jensen's constant protest throughout dinner. He seemed a lot more at ease when the flashing had stopped. Jensen had to admit that she felt a lot more at ease when it had stopped too.

The sinking feeling in her stomach subsided the more it seemed that Miles was relaxing. He had returned to leaning against the back of the booth with his arm stretched out along the back. Jensen was leaned against the back of her side of the booth, too. Her arms were crossed, but not defensive. More a relaxed I'm sort of cool motif rather than a suspicious of everything and not wanting to reveal personal secrets kind of look.

            Miles dabbed at his mouth with a napkin as he looked at the empty plates in front of them. He nodded approvingly. "Nice teamwork, Rhodes."

Jensen looked at the plates. "Do you order this much food by yourself?" She looked up from the table to look at Miles. "Or was this something new?"

            Miles pressed his lips together like he was trying to decide what he was going to say. "Catering was at noon."

            "What does that mean?" Jensen quirked an eyebrow.

            "You didn't eat anything."

            Jensen crossed her arms. "You don't know that."

            "I do," Miles said. "I watched you."

            "Well," Jensen said, "that's weird."

            "Anne Hathaway says she waits for everyone else to eat before she eats," Miles said. "That's what I was doing."

            "That quote said she did it to avoid being poisoned."

            Miles shrugged. "It's a good strategy."

            "And I'm pretty sure it was made up."

            "Look," Miles said, "I was just going to ask if you were okay. But Grace and Keira never left you by yourself. It was like you had a revolving lesbian shield around you."

            "I—" Jensen stopped herself when she realized she wasn't quite sure how to respond to a statement like that. "I'm fine. Like you said, Hugh's a jerk. I shouldn't let him get to me, right?"

            Miles nodded as he took the last sip of his coffee. "Right. But that doesn't mean Dayna and I were going to be assholes too. You could've talked to us."

            "Who's Dayna?" Jensen asked. "Did I miss someone on set?"

            Miles laughed. "Dayna Adams. She tested with me. Did you not know her first name?"

Nice going, Jensen. She blushed as she tucked a few partially wet curls behind her ear. "Um, well, I thought she looked familiar. But I wasn't sure."

            "You know that thing about asking I mentioned?" Miles said. "You can always do it."

Jensen crossed her arms. "Wouldn't you be insulted if I walked up to you and asked who you were in a place like this?"

            Miles tilted his head. "I mean as flattering as I read Men's Health covers was—"

            "Oh God." Jensen covered her face with her hands as her face heated up with embarrassment. She fought the urge to sink lower in her chair.

            Miles stifled a laugh with a snort. "No one's going to be offended if you ask what their name is."

            "I'd rather you be offended than ever bring up the Men's Health covers again." When Jensen peeked through her fingers, Miles was smiling—grinning, even.

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