#squabbling

She burst into laughter once more. She was almost in tears.

Jason sliced another piece of ham and tossed it down on the upturned sandwich. 

“You are falling behind on the tomatoes,” he snapped. 

“I was ahead of you anyway,” she said, closing the sandwich without looking and putting down the ingredients for the next. 

It was five in the morning and they were helping out at a community kitchen. His arm was still in a cast and he was antsy enough to need distraction. Andy had suggested volunteering as a joke, then they had both egged each other on right up until they were writing their names down and getting assigned a time and place. 

Now they stood in hair nets and plastic gloves, in an old but clean kitchen making three hundred sandwiches. 

Andy clicked the replay button. They were, unfortunately, well ahead of schedule. 

Jason considered snatching her phone and throwing it into the tub of mayonnaise. No, she’d fish it out and watch it thirty more times just to rub it in. 

He considered dangling whoever sent her that video off the edge of a roof. Upside down. In their underwear. 

“I don’t see why it’s so funny,” he said. “That could be a really dangerous injury. Maybe he broke his ankle and he’s in hospital right now. Or maybe Black Mask’s goons shot him in the head and you’re laughing at a dead man.”

“This video is from a year ago.”

It looped again. He could hear the crunch of his own boots slipping. The ‘oomf’ of impact. 

The sniggering. Dear Lord, the sniggering. 

“Didn’t you meet him, once?”

“Yeah he saved my life.” She wiped away a tear. “Scariest motherfucker I have ever seen.”

He looked at her. “Really?”

“No footage really does him justice.”

“You don’t look very scared,” he said evenly. He slowly sliced another piece of ham. 

A wide grin spread across her face. “Well, he’s not looking, I think I’m safe.”

The temptation to do some very stupid rose within him. He scowled at the deli meat in his hands and called upon his great reserves of restraint. 

“Besides,” Andy said, giggling again, “it’s important for us all to remember our protectors are human. So we don’t take them for granted.”

“I’m sure he’s feeling very appreciated.”

She looked at him funny. 

“Why do you care?”

“Those tomatoes are not getting sliced.” He pointed at her chopping board and knife. 

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you know him?”

“Tomato!” He slapped a piece of ham down. 

“Ham!” She shrieked in return, slapping the next piece of bread down. 

“Tomato!” 

“Ham!”

“Would you two stop yelling sandwich ingredients at each other?” the organiser called from down the hall.

Andy jumped and Jason hiked his shoulders up. 

“Yes, Miss Silvie,” they called in unison, and meekly returned to their work. 

Andy smothered a giggle. 

Jason mouthed ‘tomato!’ at her.