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Niko walks here from the Security Central.
Clara walks here from the Security Central.
Funny, Kya doesn't relax when she sees who's coming in. She offers Clara a wan smile, but other than that doesn't move.
Niko pads over to Riley's desk, finding a spot for the coffee amidst the paperwork. Turning to Kyara, he says, with frigid politeness, "Please come with me."
Riley is doing his damndest to look awake and aware, but not only is he falling short of the mark, he's bowling in the wrong lane. Niko's coffee bearing garners him an exceedingly grateful look, "Nick, you're a saint. Did Anya quack much?" He offers Clara a wave, "Afternoon Clara, I think the four of us are a matched set now. We all look zonked." He starts to say something to Niko, but pulls himself up short.
Clara comes in just a step behind Niko, in civilian clothing, although the jeans and shirt are pressed and creased as sharply as any uniform. Still hugging that official looking folder to her chest, she steps around to Niko's side, returning Kya's smile distractedly although her attention it on Riley, expressionless and intent, and still not speaking just yet.
Kyara gulps, but with an expression of resignation, she slips off the couch, clutching her soda.
Niko shakes his head to Riley, smiling now that he's not actually looking at Kyara. "She didn't even comment. She's being very nice to us today." He gestures for Kyara to precede him, then, that smile dropping from his face like a kamikaze ferret.
Kyara murmurs something unintelligible in Riley's direction and scoots out the door.
Kyara walks towards the Security Central.
Niko walks towards the Security Central.
Riley looks a little confused as Niko and Kyara depart forthwith and takes up his coffee cup to take a long swig of it. "So... um. What can I do for ya?"
Clara wordlessly sets the folder on the desk, its prim light blue cover inscribed with the block letters 'Transfer Documentation' along the cover, then takes a step back, still not quite speaking aside from with her actions.
With extreme care Riley sets the cup aside, his expression completely shattered. He pulls his hands back from the desk, and hence from the folder, refusing to so much as get too close to it. "No... Please..." His reply is almost broken, "Don't..."
Clara's intake of breath is sharp, syncopated with a near loss of her own composure. "I'm not," she finally gets out, and steps forward again to reach down and flip open the folder. "I've kept this in my personal effects since school. I...don't need it anymore."
Riley slumps forward a bit, shifting his weight against the desk and resting his arms on it so profound is his relief at being shown the form is blank. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
Clara rewraps her arms about herself almost helplessly, regarding you with a look that threatens tears, although none are forthcoming. "I wanted to leave," she says after a long moment in a low, slightly raspy voice. "I wanted to go, and let everyone get on with their lives. But I can't," she concludes, almost inaudibly.
Riley remains half slumped over his desk. Riley torture is cruel and unusual, he looks like someone's taken a 2 by 4 to the back of his head. Yes, again. "Please, Clara, you can't leave m...us. Anything, I'll do anything. I already told Nick..." Whatever it is exactly he told Niko is half trailed off. "Whatever it takes to make you happy and for you to stay, I'll do. And gladly no less. I could grovel? I'm good at groveling."
Clara is nearly galvanized into action by this, but instead drops her gaze to the floor and swallows heavily. "Riley..." she starts, then breaks off and clears her throat, shifting her weight. "There's so much to consider, to work out," she decides quietly, a fair amount of pain in her tone. "But the last few days...I can't begin to tell you how I felt, or what it meant."
"I'm not trying to get in the way of you thinking Clara... Okay, maybe I am. But I'm going to say it anyway. Nick's a good person. A damned wonderful person. You two deserve your shot at a happily-ever-after." Riley's words are halting, and he can't quite pull his eyes up off the desk. "That night? That one night was the most perfect evening in my entire life. I want you to know that until the day I die that will be one of the fondest memories I have. But you and Nick...need to live your lives the way you'd intended."
Clara lifts her eyes to stare at you in utter puzzlement for a long moment. "Happily ever after?" she repeat, incredulous, then abruptly sinks into one of the uncomfortable chair, hands clenching on her knees. "Riley, I don't -do- happily ever after. Niko needs someone who he can marry and can give him children. That's not me," she mutters almost bitterly, shaking her head, then giving you a piercing stare. "I just didn't want anyone to be hurt."
"The couch is more comfortable." Riley's reply is reflexive, and soft enough that it's only audible because of the silence in the room. "Clara, please... I'm trying to do the right thing, rather than what I want to do. It's hard enough without you bringing -logic- into this. And life... life hurts. It's what makes us who we are, what makes us better than we could be."
*snicker* Oh no, not /logic/!
Ignoring the comment about the couch, Clara regards her knees for a long moment, then looks up, almost calm again. "What exactly do you want to do?" she asks quietly.
"Want?" There's more than a hint of ragged desperation in Riley's response. What do I -want-?" To live just long enough to see your head on a pike Mr. Morden, as proof to the next -ten- generations that some things come with too high a price. Um, or not... That's no good. "I want to drop down at your feet and explain to you in great and exacting detail how wonderful you are. I want to spend a hundred, a thousand, a million nights like that one. I want to make you sit on the couch instead of the evil chair and tell you stupid stories and groan at your puns. But what we want, and what we can have, are very often two wholly different things. What I -need- is for you and Nick to be happy." Okay, y'all have already been force-fed this quote, but it's so damned -right-. "If I could choose any man from all the world to be my brother, it would be Lancelot. If through every woman born I could search, I would pick only Geni... Geni."
Clara listens in more than a little stunned amazement, breathing shallowly by the time the explanation is finished. Several moments pass in the quiet of the room before she leans forward slightly in her seat, an echo of near panic in her voice. "Niko...oh, gods," she cuts off, voice breaking as she buries her face in her hands for a moment. "He's so wonderful. Lancelot revisited," she agrees, shaken. "And hurting him like this..." More quiet. "Didn't you ever think maybe Guinivere chose the wrong man?" she finally asks in a muffled, almost inaudible tone.
"I used to." Riley replies very quietly. "When I first saw that musical. Mordred's line.. 'Don't you see it Arthur? Your goodly Lancelot, slaughtering your goodly knights. Don't you -see- it Arthur?'" He shakes his head slightly. "But Nick's better than that."
"Far, far better." Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far better. Clara nods vaguely, finally dropping her hands and leaning back in the chair to stare at the edge of the desk blindly. "It's so hard...knowing what you want, and knowing how badly it would hurt someone if it happened." She glances up wearily. "I take it the two of you have decided what's best?"
Riley shakes his head a notch, "I thought I had, but Nick ... had a point. I honestly don't know Clara. I don't know about anything. I thought I had it all neatly tucked away and figured out, but then people keep coming in here and poking holes in my resolve. It's a pretty beaten thing at this point."
Clara's brows quirk above darkened eyes. "Niko...what did he say?" she implores quietly. "Please? I think this may be important, Riley."
Riley carefully begins cracking a pencil into small inch long pieces. "I told him that I would stay out of y'all way, your lives. He made a comment about ermines that was vastly amusing. But he pointed out that it wasn't fair of me to try and change things like that, or he would never know if you had chosen him for himself, or because I'd gone to ground."
Clara mouths the word 'ermine', momentarily distracted by that, but hauls herself back on topic, lacing her fingers together and leaning her elbows on her knees. "Then you both think I should simply continue to further the relationship with him, and let it go at that?" A hint of despondency creeps into her tone before being squashed. "I see."
Having Clara put it so simply is very final, and Riley's expression drops to neutrality as he tries to hang onto his composure. Crossing his arms he half buries his face into the folds of his uniform jacket, unable to even look at the desk anymore. He's quivering with the effort not to break down. "I... logically, yeah. -Logically- I do. I just... I don't... I want you to be happy. I want you both to be happy."
Clara lifts a hand to the edge of the desk, knuckles almost whitening at the pressure of her grip as she stares at you with a torn expression. "But that's what I want for the both of you," she finally exclaims in a ragged voice. "I never wanted to hurt him...I never dreamed you and I..." She cuts off her words there and looks away, then pushes to her feet to start to pace frenetically.
Riley remains with his head buried into the dark gray cloth of one arm, with the other all but over his head. Tired chocolate colored curls stick out at odd directions from beneath the one arm. His reply is, unsurprisingly, muffled. "Great, all of us want everybody else to be happy. I know I disparaged logic earlier, but I -think- I see a logical flaw in this anyhow. I think it's best to mind something Honalee says. A lot of times there's no perfect answer. Somebody's going to be hurt any way we look at it. I'm... I'm volunteering."
"Then that would be two people hurt," Clara replies in a voice so small, it nearly isn't audible before she resumes pacing at a slower speed, shoulders slumped as she eyes the floor. "Are you sure it wouldn't be easier if I went back to Earth?"
Deep brown eyes flecked with green peer up over one gray-clad arm, and the look of horror in them is unmistakable. "Clara, please, don't go. I never meant to make you want to leave... Please... I... I don't know what it would be like if you left, there'd be this massive hole, and everything would ... See, if you stay with Nick, at least you're still nearby. Close, a friend, I can still listen to you laugh, know you're just down the hall and that my entire life is that much better because that's true. I love you so much, I can stand here and watch you with another man. But I don't think I could watch you leave."
Clara stops pacing abruptly, her back to you as her hands fall limply to her sides. "You said it," she breathes, shock coloring her tone. "Do you know...does Niko feel the same way?" she manages to get out in a strangled, almost manic voice.
"I don't know." Riley's reply is ragged, and his face fully buried in his arm again. "You'd have to ask him."
And that finally stirs Clara into action as she makes her way hesitantly around the desk to stand awkwardly by the chair, one hand reaching out, then pulling back, then resuming motion to smooth back several of the chocolate colored curls. "I think he might," she notes quietly.
That quivering eases, although Riley remains in his half curled over position. His reply sounds simply exhausted. "I think you're right."
Clara pulls her hand away, dismay registering on her features for a moment before she folds her arms and leans against the table. "I don't think you understand," she says after several long moments. "I think he might forgive me for this someday," she ventures sadly. "He -is- wonderful, and I care too much about him to let it get too far before hurting him worse."
Riley most assuredly doesn't understand. Hey, he's only had a cup of coffee and a sip of another. He needs caffeine and has entirely gotten lost. Eyes peer up over sleeve again, confusion laced over the pain in them. "Nick's a good person..." His tone is heavily layered with the confusion as well. When in doubt, return to mantras.
"And so are you," Clara responds hesitantly, almost as if ready to bolt at the admission as her fingers unwind from folded arms to rest on your shoulder, shaking faintly. Plenty of caffeine, but she's in the no sleep boat as well.
Like a turtle, but not a three headed one, Riley's head comes up another notch at the hand on his shoulder. His expression can't help but soften a bit at the contact. He does however still look bewildered and altogether lost. "Um, thanks I guess. Honalee'd say otherwise."
Clara ducks her head slightly, a somewhat fond smile touching her face at the mention of the older woman. "Oh, no she wouldn't," she counters. "She knows...oh, so much. When she and I spoke, she couldn't tell me what to do, and I didn't expect her to. But she did help me to realize that in order for any of this to get better, choices have to be made...and I have to realize what I want."
Riley nods readily to the last, eyes once again on his desk and no longer buried in his uniform. "We want you to be happy more than anything. What you want's the important thing. When you know what you want...let me know? I'll do anything within my power, and even things that may not be to make it right for you."
"I'm standing less than inches away from you, and you still think I don't know my own mind?" Clara replies, voice awash with both hurt and amusement. "I've always known what I wanted for me...but trying to think of how to get there without hurting anyone? That was the hard part." She lifts her eyes to the far wall, gaze going distant. "Kya asked me what I wanted last night."
Is Riley being obtuse, or is it his player's lack of caffeine consumption that has him entirely mystified by Clara's question? Shall we leave this as an exercise for the reader? Whatever the reason, he's very confused. He actually turns several degrees, looking up at you with an expression that patently begs clarification. "But, I thought, I mean... huh?" He decides the latter parts of this are better sources of information. "And what did you tell her?"
Clara tilts her head, a faintly nostalgic smile touching her lips. "I told her I wanted it to be the other night. -After- I'd dumped the water on your head." Yes, Riley's just obtuse. She glances down at you, smile fading to a pleading intensity. "You thought? What did you think?"
There's a pause while Riley considers this a moment. And then calmly, all the while with his eyes locked onto yours, he reaches for the water bottle sitting on the floor by his foot. With a gravity belied by the mischief in his eyes he offers the bottle. "I don't have a pitcher." Pausing a beat he answers, "I don't know what I thought. I don't know what I think now. I just know I want to do whatever I can to help."
Clara drops her eyes to gape at the bottle for a long moment, that one simple act brushing aside the last of her resolve and composure as the waterworks that had been threatening since the night before finally spill over, albeit quietly, and through a soft laugh as she takes the bottle. "The only...only man I know," she manages between choked laughter, "that is -so- infuriating, and yet stays in my head incessantly."
Oh dear, no see she's not allowed to -cry-. Riley looks more than a bit horrified and turning still further he reaches up to rest his hands lightly on either side of your arms, something that's almost the offer of a hug. "Ack, I didn't mean it...Don't cry... Please. I..." He slides out of the chair and to his knees at your feet. "I'm groveling? I told you I could grovel."
"Oh, no! No, don't..." escapes Clara in strangled tones of dismay as she follows suit and drops down as well to her knees, shaking her head vehemently, one hand tightened on the edge of the desk while the other gesticulates. "I don't -want- you to grovel. I want you..." Her words cut off in a quiet sob as she dashes at her face. "Damn it, Riley. Don't you get it?"
Well at least Riley's -honest-, "Um, no. No I don't." Since you're -both- on your knees he's taller again and looks down at you hesitantly, the fingers of one hand brushing out towards your shoulder to rest against it. "Small words for slow moving security goons?"
Clara lets out a soft laugh through her irritation, eyes closing for a moment before she peers up at you. "I knew a man once...and he was amazing. Confident, handsome, everything a woman could want. And then one day I gave a little more than he asked for, and now he's in the Denali system, eighty light years away. I never meant to fall for anyone again." She drops her gaze to the floor, abashed at her own words. "I don't know how it happened...but it did," she finally admits in a shaking voice.
Sideways glance, sideways glance, okay where's the hidden camera? Riley is still behind, and literally floored. No, literally. He shifts to sit cross legged, getting off his knees. "Nick's a good guy," he resorts to a mantra, his tone one of desperation.
Clara's eyes squeeze shut again as she sags against the drawers of the desk, face turned towards them against something internal, and obviously painful. "Yeah. Yeah he is," she finally replies in a phenomenally exhausted tone. "And handsome, and caring, and polite, and a gentleman. But he's not you," she concludes, and starts to get to her feet. "I'll get out of your hair now," she explains, almost dully.
Thud. And that's literal. Riley's head thunks against the desk. It's not that hard, but the drawer is mostly empty and it echoes well. The -drawer- is empty, really. His head isn't. No, stop laughing, that's not a joke. "Clara, please...don't go." He reaches after you, gently snagging a shirt sleeve. "You can't go dropping bombshells like that and -leave-..."
Clara isn't laughing. But her player is, yup. She pauses as her arm is pulled back by the sleeve, then peers over one shoulder. "Riley, this was a mistake. If you really want me to be with Niko..." She shakes her head suddenly, giving in and falling to a seated position as well, leaning against the desk and looking straight ahead. "I'm sorry if that wasn't what you wanted to hear."
Riley doesn't let go of the sleeve, he instead takes the other one up as well. "Clara, it's what I wanted to hear more than anything else in my life. I'm seriously thinking of curling up into a gibbering ball in the corner now of shock and delight. I love you. Very much. But are you -sure-? I mean Nick? You two are so right for each other." One hand releases a sleeve to reach up to brush with feathery lightness at your cheek. "I love you more than anything. Ever. But if you're happy with Nick, I can be happy knowing that you're happy. That's all I need, is for you to be happy."
"If you curl up in a ball and gibber, I really will pour more water on you," Clara threatens with a weary laugh. "Were Niko and I right for each other? Maybe. We could have made it work...although...I honestly don't think I can give him what he wants. Not in the long run." The smile fades as she lifts one hand to cover yours at her face. "Except that I've already fallen in love with you, and that might cause problems."
Riley's eyes are planted on the hand covering his. "Have you really?" His tone is pleading. "Are you really sure? In the name of all that's holy, I want you to be. I really do. I may break my own heart saying this, but I think you need to really decide if that's true or if you just think you do. The worst thing for this situation is a snap decision. Think about what this would mean for you. Do you really want it? Sleep on it, sleep a week on it if you need to, a month, a lifetime...I will wait. I'll always be waiting for you, even if you decide you don't love me."
Clara reels back a small amount, astonished dismay flashing over her features at the reaction. "I'll think about it," she says quietly after a moment. "More. More than I have been," she adds, by now a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. "I'll mull it over for as long as it takes until you're willing to accept it, and then whether you do or not is up to you." She pulls back and climbs to her feet, peering down, obviously hurt. "But I'll tell you one thing, Riley Addison. I'm -not- another Anya. I'm not always right, and I don't always make the best decisions, and if you'll excuse me now, I'm needed back in Medbay!" she snaps, then turns to head from the room at top speed.
You walk towards the Security Central.
Clara bursts from Riley's office, a frozen expression on her face as she pelts into the lobby, weaving around security guards and oblivious to nearly everything.
You head towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
You head towards the Medical Bay.
You walk towards the Chief Aleron's Office.
SECURITY> Niko, who gave up on paperwork long ago, starts to his feet. This is rather to Pen's dismay, as the dog's head was in Niko's lap, the better to be petted. Then, after a moment, Niko sinks back into the chair, with a murmured apology to the poor, abused dog.