*frowns* i am getting delayed e-mail notifications. you too or is it just me?


susan watches the both of them in the mirror, peter light and she dark. he bends his head to her ear, whispers, "i did miss you, you know. you never wrote me."

"maybe i didn't know what to say," susan suggests. "what do you really say to someone in such circumstances? 'dear peter, hope you are well. how are they treating you in cellblock b? love, susan.'"

"cellblock c," peter corrects absently, but in the mirror his eyes have suddenly gone dark. she wonders what happened to him there.

he puts his hands on her shoulders again and turns her around. up close his eyes are very blue, and there is a scar on his cheek that wasn't there before, another one through his right eyebrow. prison brings out the worst in men, susan remembers abruptly. she doesn't know where she's heard it before.

"su," peter says, and then his mouth is on hers.