Where Cap and I Fight

I have sent him away. Partially because I don't want him around any more.

Mostly because we fought.

Over Estaban, of all things.

When we returned from Agnus' house, after Brutus had demolished every last marshmallow, Mal chose to start in on me.

"Were you flirting?"

"Flirting?"

"With Estaban?"

"Estaban!!!? Really? Estban?"

"He kept refilling your drink."

"Cap, he's been refilling my drink ever since he was fourteen. Hovering about. It's what he does, let it be."

"Should you be encouraging him?" His voice had a dangerous tone.

"I'm not encouraging him! He's just being polite."

"He's trying to get you to come back to his room!"

"Oh, now Cap, come on. I've known Agnes and Tom forever-Estaban is their son!"

"Well, he finds you mighty attractive! Or 'muy attractive' -as you like to say."

"So what? That doesn't mean anything."

"It doesn't mean anything," he huffed. Then he said something in Chinese.

"What did you say?"

He repeated it.

"Well, Mal, come on. I don't happen to know Chinese. Nobody speaks Chinese."

"Well, no. Not HERE!"

"Maybe on the other side of the planet?"

"Mal. Come on."

"No. Gorrammit, I am also tired of reading about your escapades."

"You read? You read my blog?"

"Yes," he said testily,"I read your blog. I know all about R, Brian and sundry others. And I'm tired of it."

"Well, if you must know: it's got nothing to do with you."

He waved me away.

"Fine. Go. It's not like you were ever even really real anyway," I said.

He turned and gave me a look.

And then he was gone.

I remain,

Hilda Stinson