Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone // [Patricia/Mace]

It doesn't hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?
You, it's you and me.

Another robust dinner filling his stomach, his soul, Mace found himself on the L-shaped couch of the District Ten apartment surrounded by his family. His children were exactly that now: only one toddler remained, and Kieran hadn't quite achieved the status of adult, despite his very best attempts. He knew he only had another year, maybe two, in this gentle cycle of life. He should stay and soak up every moment of it.

Instead, after he put Coralee and Quinn to sleep, he made his excuses and climbed into the elevator, heading straight for the roof. The last tendrils of light clung to the horizon - just enough to keep the automatic lights at bay for another few minutes. He rubbed his brow, thought the better of his coveralls. She'd hate them.

For some reason, tonight, that made him grin.

He came to stand at her side, his elbows resting on the railing. For awhile, as the last light slipped away, he just breathed in the second hand smoke. If it had called to him before by some vague siren song, it now seemed to speak his name in every curl, every exhale.

His fingers twitched. "I ain't seen much of Saffron since we got here," he says and ducks his chin to look at Patricia Valfierno. "Figure she won't notice one little bit of celebration."

He lifts an eyebrow. "After all, ain't it been ten long years that those lungs been enjoyin' that nicotine?"

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh

[dars]