You get a scarf from the past, and I can't even get a change of sheets.

[ Maybe now that all the Petrellis have vacated the ship, she'll get her chance to shine in the goods from home department, some cosmic balance tipping in her favor. Spike had found her plenty of things before he just disappeared, but nothing to brighten up anything in that sardine tin. Claire has pieced things together in order to make it look less like a cell of some kind, but her bedrooms have always been open and airy and organized with color. It isn't really a big deal, but she notices. ]

I like the colors. Back in Odessa, our colors were red and white. Different shades of blue in California. Never saw any green and silver personally.

[ Having turned away while folding the thick material in her hands to look at some of the other odds and ends, Claire lets the scarf unravel as she turns back and takes the one step necessary to bringing her within reaching distance. Sloppily - still, almost nervously, as if unsure if she should be doing anything at all - she drapes it over his shoulders in a poor imitation of a proper tie. ]

Space is cold.