"I know what it meant to him." Jo said, not sure if she was correcting a point, or making one, or leaving some room for error. Since it still felt impossible to try and reconcile her own self with an ending number of things that supposedly happened to the her in this world...that never happened to her at all.
"You have to remember, magic is just another tool for mostly us." Jo lifted a hand and spun her first two fingers, lifting an odd assortment of the tools on his workstation to spiral in the air. "We've either known about since birth, or at least learned about it and been practicing it since right before we were teenagers."
She dropped her hand and they turned a last time before laying themselves back down, far more at the command of her words than any gesture she'd so long ago stopped needing to make. "It didn't make him twitch--" There's an off, amused emphasis on the word. Because he chose it, and because magic wasn't high on that list. "--and if there was an emergency in the field, it's not like he'd hesitate to use it on her--"
But, she conceded, with a curl of a smile and a look back toward the car, that was far beyond what anyone could call simple fond affection thinking about bygone moments. "But, yes. He preferred to work on it himself. And he usually spent an extra day or two on it, like he was apologizing, after such emergencies."
It was endearing and hilarious. More than once she'd ended up with grease stains on her clothes, her skin, in her hair, from those days. They made him a simple kind of happy that didn't have to do with work, that happened to all too easily get splashed onto her while she teased him or checked on him occasionally during her own ability to be around.
no subject
"I know what it meant to him." Jo said, not sure if she was correcting a point, or making one, or leaving some room for error. Since it still felt impossible to try and reconcile her own self with an ending number of things that supposedly happened to the her in this world...that never happened to her at all.
"You have to remember, magic is just another tool for mostly us." Jo lifted a hand and spun her first two fingers, lifting an odd assortment of the tools on his workstation to spiral in the air. "We've either known about since birth, or at least learned about it and been practicing it since right before we were teenagers."
She dropped her hand and they turned a last time before laying themselves back down, far more at the command of her words than any gesture she'd so long ago stopped needing to make. "It didn't make him twitch--" There's an off, amused emphasis on the word. Because he chose it, and because magic wasn't high on that list. "--and if there was an emergency in the field, it's not like he'd hesitate to use it on her--"
But, she conceded, with a curl of a smile and a look back toward the car, that was far beyond what anyone could call simple fond affection thinking about bygone moments. "But, yes. He preferred to work on it himself. And he usually spent an extra day or two on it, like he was apologizing, after such emergencies."
It was endearing and hilarious. More than once she'd ended up with grease stains on her clothes, her skin, in her hair, from those days. They made him a simple kind of happy that didn't have to do with work, that happened to all too easily get splashed onto her while she teased him or checked on him occasionally during her own ability to be around.