It was her turn to look tired. It crept across her face like fog across the moon. She pulled away, digging into her bag for another cigarette. For some moments, she didn't answer at all. In the new angle of the light, half-hidden by makeup, he might be able to catch the deep shadows beneath her eyes -- the marks of a woman who didn't sleep well . . . and hadn't in some time.

"Company." The word came almost too soft to hear as she produced the cigarette she sought. "I don't have much of it these days . . . and in the end, that's what I want most."

But just as suddenly, her eyes dug back into him, almost in challenge. "But as a request, not an obligation."