“When I got out of prison, I only had two things, babe. That truck, and you. I wasn’t feeling especially fond of you at the time, either. It’s the only thing I’ve had for myself since I was old enough to have anything, that I’ve been able to keep.”

“Counts for somethin’, that,” Moose said.

“It does,” Velvet said, frowning down at her beer.

Prancer frowned at Moose, who only shrugged. Guy wasn’t making it any easier.

“What if we overhauled the outside, got someone to give the engine a real solid lookin’-at?” Prancer asked.

“So long as it stays my truck. I don’t want you ship-of-Theseusing it.”

Prancer resisted swearing under his breath. So that tactic wouldn’t work.

There was more of the pink dust in the air, now. He gave Velvet a kiss on top of the head, then shrugged slightly. She moved her head off of his shoulder, sitting upright.

“Things will be better,” he said.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m going to go find the ladies’ room. Order food before things get hairy. I’ll have the chicken caesar sandwich and grab a few bottled waters while you’re at it. For the drive back.”

“You know the markup on those will be insane,” Prancer said.

“Just get me my water,” she said.

She walked away. Prancer watched her walk away, feeling wistful.

He signaled the waitress. He made sure to give Velvet’s order while he remembered it, and then gave his own. Moose put in enough of an order for two people.

When they were alone again, Moose commented, “Sorry, for interjectin’.”

“Interjecting?”

“When you were talking about the truck, and about prison.”

“Ah. Yep. Apology accepted.”

“Hard to be the third wheel sometimes. Especially when things get complicated, relationship-wise.”

“Can’t speak about the third-wheeling. That’s for you to figure out. But for the relationship part, it’s the simplest thing in the world, Moose,” Prancer said. “She’s my girlfriend, I’m her boyfriend. Sometimes you and she enjoy each other’s company, sometimes I enjoy someone else’s company, but that doesn’t change that it’s me and it’s her as the boyfriend and girlfriend.”

His voice had become progressively more stern as he’d talked. He paused, meeting Moose’s eyes.

“Makes sense,” Moose said. Prancer smiled.

“Doesn’t seem like you’ve had anyone but her keeping you company, gotta say,” Moose said.

Prancer looked at the woman with the mask on her lower face and the claw-heels. “Trying to be better.”

“Good for you,” Moose said, before taking a drink of his beer.

“I’m going to marry that Velvet sometime soon,” Prancer said. “I’ve just got to make amends for old wrongs first. Can’t ask her to marry me when the last momentous event in our lives was me being a screwup.”

“The prison thing?”