On July 4th, there is another wanderer community event for the first time since March when a bomber nearly killed everyone that attended but instead killed two people who chose to sacrifice themselves so the rest could live. These two people were friends of many including Martha Jones, but it is important to move forward and not let grief stop them
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Here in Chicago she waits in the lines. She waits her turn and she rides with strangers, and she is having a blast. She runs into people she knows and hugs them with a big smile on her face. She's making the best of her day. It's a good day and she just wants to enjoy it.
She's on the Lighthouse ride now. It's the one that you sit on and it raises you up, then drops you down really fast. She may be sitting next to a complete stranger, or she may have found a friend to drag onto it. Either way she's not on it alone, and when it drops she lets out a gleeful shriek and grabs onto the hand of the person beside her.
She already can't wait to do it again.
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"Think you might hafta show me just what you mean." The smile doesn't fade, but her eyes narrow slightly, playfully.
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And with that, he'll lean in to kiss her gently, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.
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"Like that."
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She knows she should probably say something more, but there isn't much else coming to mind at the moment. She just wants to bask in the happy feelings it brings and not think about anything else it could mean or cause.
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But she really likes kissing him. She doesn't know if she wants to admit that part.
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He isn't sure what else to say, other than that, but it seems like it's enough. It's gonna have to be -- he's not very good with the words.
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"Most guys expect a lot more than just a kiss or two," she says softly. She knows that Charlie isn't most guys, and she has a pretty good feeling this isn't the case with him, but she can't stop herself from throwing that out there.
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