Let's dig deeper.

Sam thought more about it. She was slowly getting used to it - she couldn't tell Jake's thoughts from hers, exactly, but she could usually figure out that an abrupt mood swing meant she was getting something from him. She noticed that most of the time when she said something, it was followed by a little touch of annoyance or surprise. She took this to mean it was his idea and she just said it out loud.

Speaking of which, something occurred to her. She gave Jake a moment to mention it, and when he didn't she brought it up. "I wanna see what it feels like to experience stuff through you. I mean I got a little taste of it with your, uh, libido," they both blushed again, "but I wanna try other stuff. Like food or jokes."

"Let's start simple, then. Are you hungry?"

She smiled. "Of course I am, you already said you are. Too bad I ruined that salad. How about a sandw- oops, I was doing it again, huh?"

Jake patted her on the back. "Don't worry about it, you can't really help it if my ideas feel like your own. Sorry if I was a little short with you." He opened up the fridge and started to make a sandwich.

Sam yawned. She was exhausted, she realized. She had been dealing with effectively having two brains all morning. It was good to have a little quiet time.

While Jake put together the sandwich, she reflected on her condition. Having him focus on a simple task freed her from the near-constant intrusion of thoughts and feelings. She had almost gotten used to how overwhelming it was; now, without it, she felt like she had stepped out from a really loud and smoky concert onto a quiet street.

Do I like turkey? She thought about it for a second before she remembered. The thoughts felt so natural and organic, even with weird ones like that it was easy to forget they weren't her own. "Yes, Jake, I like turkey."

"Ah, bummer. I was hoping to try something you don't like to see how you react. Anyway, here goes." As Jake bit into the sandwich, Sam focused on her feelings. "So do you taste turkey?" he asked through a mouthful.

"Not really. I mean kind of, I guess? I have a feeling of satisfaction, kind of. Is the sandwich bland? Dry?"

He laughed. "Yeah, turkey's not my favorite. It seems like you're picking up on my interpretation of my experience more than the actual experience itself." He thought. "I wanna try something."

She wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, do we have to?" Jake turned back and opened the fridge.

"I'm not gonna enjoy it any more than you." He grinned. "For science!" he exclaimed as he bit into a fresh jalapeno.

The effect was instantaneous and unpleasant. "Ughhhh! Ack ugh spit it out! Spit it out!" He spat the half-chewed pepper in the trash and took a big swig of water. "No, dude! Water makes it worse, aghhh! Bread or milk!"

Sweating, Jake crammed the sandwich into his mouth. Sam felt a bit of relief.

"Yeesh, don't do that again. That was awful."

"Awful how? Did it hurt your tongue?"

Sam searched for the words. "Not really. It was just a bad feeling. Like sandpaper being rubbed on my brain. I don't think I would have been able to guess you ate a hot pepper but I knew you were suffering. It's like..." she paused, trying to think of a metaphor. "It's like an itch you can't scratch. Wait, no it's not. Why did I - oh dammit, that was your metaphor! it's not like that at all!"

Sam frowned. This was starting to give her a headache. "Look, no more peppers for now, ok? Just finish your damn sandwich." She laughed at how cute she sounded when she was irritated. She knew the laughter wasn't hers but she let it wash over her anyway. She was starting to get tired of analyzing everything that popped into her head.

Jake munched thoughtfully on his sandwich. The pain was fading and he was trying to think of what to do next.