I splash water on my face, sniff an armpit, stinky as well as sweaty and sticky after sleeping in my clothes, look in the mirror. My face still shows the signs of my earlier crying, and my nose wrinkles at the sight.

I step out of the bathroom, might as well go for my run before I get changed, check on my territory. I shimmy out of my jeans, a sound an awful lot like "Meep" coming from behind me, and I turn, my shirt half pulled off.

Amy's blushing, half turned away, watching me.

I stare back, bemused, I guess she doesn't see me as a pale frog on two legs, "I'm going running, want to come with?" I ask, finally, pulling my shirt off, no point in getting too many things dirty with the current laundry situation. I grab the costume I wore for my run yesterday off it's hook, and start pulling the spider-silk on, legs first, then arms, pulling the top up as I get the costume's shoulders over mine, as Amy watches, unable to look away. She must be nuts, but that fascinated gaze is very flattering.

Amy finally nods as I pull my shoes on, "I'll probably slow you down."

"I've had worse things slow me down."

She nods again, "Can I borrow a pair of socks?"

I look her over, no, she wouldn't fit in most of my clothes, would she. I pull out a pair of socks, toss them over, "I'll get to work on a proper costume for you, too."

"Thank you," she looks up at me, "You don't need too."

"I'm not going to let you run around in a costume that won't even stop a knife," I pull my mask on, leaving the bottom open, "You're too valuable."

"You keep using that word, I don't think it means what you think it means," a smile ghosts over her lips even as she rubs at her hip, just under the waistband of her jeans.

I smile back, "Even if you weren't my friend, I wouldn't risk you. Without you, everyone in town would be dying of an incurable brain disease. Without you, stopping the Nine would have been a lot harder. Without you, a lot more people would have died," I pause, because her face keeps dropping as I keep speaking, "And you're really pretty, and sweet, and cuddly."

Apparently that was the right thing to say. Huh. She's smiling again, and she steps up, stretching up on her toes as she pulls my face down for a kiss.

"Let's go for a run," she says, tying her bandanna back around her face.


A/N: Taylor knows, intellectually, that other people often aren't like her, and value different things. That doesn't make her good at dealing with those differences.