Victoria

Nicely done. I like that strange, brief encounter she has with Dean, and the way she opts not to try to see him again. Can’t blame her for wanting to maintain the status quo.

Favorite lines:

and arguing with Ayn Rand about Ayn Rand.

*g*

She’s not interested in shells; she grew up on the East Coast where they’re as abundant as cigarette butts and medical waste

Good description.

But Jess is happy here, as happy as anybody can be, so she buries her toes in the sand of her empty beach, and bends over to pick up a piece of saltwater-tumbled glass the same color as Sam’s eyes. It makes her feel better.

I like the little bit of peace she finds in this last moment in the fic.