[ Obliging the dog, she moves her knee an inch over, but he moves his head accordingly. She gives him an uninvested glare before setting her palm down on his big, broad skull. He closes his eyes and huffs a breath against her jeans, which she takes as approval, leaving her hand there and idly scratching. She thinks Frank's rummaging is to whip out a bone or a bottle, not a piece of crap souvenir. Her brow puckers at first, then through the mire of her memories there surfaces a vague recollection from the last week. Jess sighs, or laughs; both, a warm rattle that shakes up her nerves. She grabs the snowglobe and disturbs it similarly. ]
no subject
Should've been expecting that.