She hadn't told him to go away. Hadn't reacted at all, in fact. She was out of ammunition. He'd counted the shots.

He kept walking until he was at her side, then knelt. From his coat pocket, he took out the packet he'd slipped in there earlier and offered it to her without a word. The faint clink of metal against metal sounded as he held it in his always slightly shaking hand.

He didn't speak, didn't ask her to.