❝ you can ask me anything you want. i promise i'll answer truthfully except the things i feel like lying about. ❞
— from @itsstillinthearth ( dulcie ), original meme.
Clark blinks, brows furrowing slightly, and then lets out a soft laugh when he reailses--
"So... you'll lie about everything, then?"
The only questions in his mind are inconsequential personal things, after all. Things like where'd you come from and how long have you been doing this and is Jocelyn really your real name? You don't look like a Jocelyn swim around in his brain, and they're probably incredibly counterintuitive.
Rubbing his hands together, Clark inevitably turns his palms towards the fire in front of them. He's not sure who owns the lake house they've currently taken refuge in, but decides he's grateful for the hearth all the same.
"I never did thank you," he murmurs, "for saving me. I know that wasn't necessarily your goal, but..."
But Jocelyn killed the head of the pharmaceutical company Clark was trying to expose all the same. All things considered, though he'd aimed for an arrest through a written exposé, in the end Jocelyn's assassination would stop an incomplete drug from hitting the market the following week anyway. That was all that mattered.
Granted, now they were both being hunted down by the company's less than legal insurance policies-- Jocelyn for her murder and Clark for the information he still had on him-- but still. Jocelyn didn't have to take him with her.
"I appreciate it. That's all. You were, um..." He glances at her profile briefly, then looks back at the flames. "You're really good at what you do."
