Sean brought her a bowl of thick beef stew, soda bread, and a Coke.
Sean wasn't the first.
Sean got you some clothes before he went to the pub for his shift.
"Thanks, Sean," she replied with a wave.
Some of the locals she knew from her frequent visits seated themselves before Sean at the bar.
"Enjoy," Sean said, reappearing from the kitchen doors behind her to place a bowl of warm toffee pudding on the table.
"Oh, Sean," she said with a smile.
Sean smiled finally and whisked it away.
Sean poisoning her made no sense.
Sean returned to the bar.
He wasn't sure what he expected—maybe a cold, hard Medusa—but the young woman Sean indicated was nothing like that.
He'd watched Sean subtly steer people away from it.
Sean was supposed to serve her dessert laced with a sedative, so they could drug her and take her back to the station for questioning.
Sean caught his eye and tossed his head towards the restrooms.
Sean asked from behind her.
Sean had been alive when her father knocked out Jule and brought him here the other night.
We're having a wake for Sean tomorrow.
Sean would probably appreciate it if you came.
"I did it for Sean," she replied.
I think Sean made a mistake.
Sean was like a brother to me.
He and Sean had been assigned together at the station for over a decade.
Sean died well, doing his duty.
Bill usually came over in the evening to help, and sometimes Sean or Paul.
On the other hand, Joan and Sean had been married almost thirty years and they got along well.
This is Sean - Joan's husband.
"Sean," Alex repeated, offering a hand.
Sean gripped his hand.
"Well Sean," Alex replied in a dry tone, "I hope some of it was good."