|
|
Clara does not sleep! Actually, she was hiding in the music room for a time before coming back out and shutting the door behind her almost silently. She isn't even humming Bolero this time, although it's really an effort not to.
Riley does sleep. Or he did. He must've awoken while you played and is sprawled on his chest, head resting on crossed arms as he listens to the distant sounds. As they stop, and you leave, he shifts to watch. "Hello love, have fun?"
Clara shakes a drumstick at you and grins, for once not looking as though she'd run a mile, although she did pulls off the sweater at some point to leave behind a t-shirt. "You're supposed to be sleeping, not listening to me hammer out Ravel." She crosses to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. "But yes, I did. How're you feeling?"
"Not so amazing," Riley confesses quietly, remaining in his comfortable position. "But I like listening to you hammering away. It's comfortable."
Clara reaches over to run a hand over your shoulder lightly. "Is there anything I can do for you? Or get for you?" She glances back towards the music room, half smiling. "And here I tried to choose something with almost no bass so I wouldn't wake you."
"No, but I appreciate the offer. I'm just gonna' lie here. It seems like a good plan. Thankfully though my stomach has settled, the rest I can more or less ignore as need be." Riley grins fondly. "I love to listen to you play."
Clara chuckles, shaking her head bemusedly and gives one of the sticks a twirl. "I guess it's good I gave up voice lessons in college. Wouldn't you just be in seven kinds of hell if you lived with an opera singer," she teases.
Riley grins at you half-absently, shifting to lean his head against your leg. "I must admit opera's not my favorite. But if you were singing it...Well, it'd be you, and remind me of you."
Clara wrinkles her nose in distaste, although she does shift both sticks to one hand so she can rest her free hand in your hair. "I like some of it. Some of Suzanna's stuff from Le Nozze de Figaro is just fun. I think my heart belongs to calypso, though. And Grandpa taught me about jazz." She sighs faintly and leans to rest her head on yours. "You keep -saying- things like that," she murmurs.
"I like jazz," Riley murmurs softly, drowsy with contentment rather than sleep. "Especially the movement after it was first introduced to the Edreeni." He chuckles quietly, a raspy rumble. "I am sorry, should I not?"
Clara murmurs something about learning some of the later stuff in Edrilac, then laughs while nuzzling your hair. "It turns me into putty is all," she explains quietly. "Completely malleable Clara. Some sort of bizarre, surreal toy."
"Guess that makes me an evil kid. I don't wanna share the toy." Riley murmurs quietly, still sounding pleased if a bit out of it. "My wonderful putty Clara."
Clara tilts her head upside down at the far side of your head to kiss the edge of your hear before pulling away gently to rise. "All yours. You don't have to share," she promises fondly. "Think you can eat at all? Or would you still rather give that a skip?"
"Probably could, my stomach's not hating me anymore, but it's a bit late, yeah?" Riley's words are quiet, remaining where he is.
Clara heads for the kitchen, pulling down a pair of glasses and fills both with water. "I can put together some sandwiches, if you like? I'm just afraid if I don't inhale something now, I won't wake you up by kicking you, I'll do it by my stomach growling."
"A sandwich'd be nice, if I can beg a bland one?" Riley asks quietly, watching you with a fond expression.
"Bland I can do," Clara offers back with a quick grin, and she actually can. Sandwiches require no heat, and hence no setting fire to anything. At least ham and cheese with mayo doesn't. "Cupcake?"
"Think I'll pass, despite the joys of chocolate. 'Preciate the offer though." Riley sets about the complicated process of sitting up. "Thanks so much for this."
Clara foregoes the chocolate, but does leave the food for a moment to get a hypo from the closet before carrying both plates to the bed, then returning for the glasses of water. You get the hypo, lucky you, before she settles down beside you. "Just some nutrients and glucose. You likely need them." Offering one of the water glasses, she smiles fondly. "You're welcome. It's what I'm here for."
Riley offers you a sheepish nod of thanks. "I appreciate it. I really don't think I feel up to consuming sugar products just yet." He takes the glass of water, taking a decent sized sip of it.
Clara nods approvingly at the drink before attacking her own sandwich, albeit daintily. Evil doctor or no, she's still a lady. "I don't blame you," she manages after a moment. "Not a happy thing on an upset stomach. Which is why the hypo. But the water is something you'll need to try to do as often as possible. At your size and mass, dehydration is a real danger."
"And I'd rather avoid that," Riley replies before he systematically drains the glass of water in prevention mode. "I dislike IVage."
Clara laughs after a sip of her own water. "I know that. You also dislike monitors and hospital wards and banana colored vinyl uniforms. Your likes include chocolate, penguins, and redheads. Do I get the date, bachelor number one?" she asks, grinning broadly.
Riley very calmly and very serious reaches over to poke you before snickering, "Sure, where do you want to go o redhead-mine?" He scoops up his sandwich, taking a careful bite.
Clara makes a dolphin-summoning noise at the poke and laughs easily, navigating through a bit more of her sandwich. "Oooh, I get to choose? Golly, I suppose somewhere sunny and bright..." she ventures, blinking vacuously and doing her best dumb-blonde imitation.
Riley takes another careful bite, finishing it offer before grinning. "Hey, it sounds nice to me. Maybe with some water and wind."
"Uh-uh, Addison," Clara admonishes, eyes dancing. "We promised that boat to the future Mr. and Mrs. Casymed, remember? They get their vacation first." She polishes off the last of her sandwich before commenting, "Did you know people ski on snow?"
Riley chuckles quietly, looking perhaps a bit sheepish. "A beach? Beaches are sunny and windy and watery." He pauses a moment and then nods, "Yeah. It takes talent."
Clara glances to one side, unconcealable longing more than evident briefly before she shrugs and essays another grin. "We'll see. But yeah, Julie mentioned skiing in the mountains. I'd thought she'd gone mad. Skiing is done in the ocean. Then I looked it up. Some people do it tied to dogs," she adds, shuddering.
"Beach'd be nice. Sand's fun." Riley murmurs, settling aside the rest of his sandwich. "The chairlift's fun. The actual skiing is disconcerting."
Clara exhales a soft sigh, pulling her legs in tailor fashion as she finishes her water. "The things you learn daily," she murmurs, then tilts her head at you almost warily. "You'd really be willing to take another vacation?"
"Right now? I'd kill for one. Don't wanna go in tomorrow. Don't guess I have too much choice. At least not for a few hours for that meeting." Riley moves to curl back down. "Just not when Nick's gone."
Clara scoops up the various dishes and carries them to the sink before returning. The closet gets a thoughtful glance before she tugs the clip from her hair and loses the jeans before settling down beside you. "What meeting?" she finally asks, significantly worried.
"Budget," Riley murmurs by way of reply, obviously tiring, as he doesn't even comment on the removal of the dishes, or even look guilty. "Nothing too terrible."
Clara blinks a few times, then lifts her wrist to peer at her comm before groaning and turning face down. "I have the requisition forms done. They're in Medbay. I'll get 'em to you in the morning?"
Riley shakes his head slightly, "If you're not done, s'okay. It's just the preliminary. I can fudge around it. He shifts more closely to you.
Clara turns her head to the side to regard you for a moment before her expression melts into an adoring half-smile. "They're done," she repeats, then shifts onto her side to face you. "Maybe we can get away when Niko and Ela come back?"
"That'd be nice. Skeedle off to parts far away. Just us for a little bit." Riley's tone is decidedly wistful. "I like being along with my Clara, with nobody to steal the time."
Clara reaches for your hand, searching your face thoughtfully for a time before leaning in to steal a kiss. "Soon, love. Why don't you rest now, though? Dream about sand in your shorts and doctors dunking you in the water."
Riley returns the kiss as best he can in his be-fuzzed state. "Sounds like a good idea," he murmurs, eyes closing. "Sleep's nice."
Clara doesn't seem about to argue, as she's still in the catching up phase herself, and instead tugs slightly closer to you and cuddles in. "Very nice. Make you feel better. G'night love."
Riley curls up all the closer to you. "G'night to you too, sweet dreams."
While she may not drizzle off to unconsciousness right away, Clara seems perfectly content to drowse without moving, thoughts drifting aimlessly before settling into the random patterns of sleep.
Riley is asleep much more quickly, more of a downpour of sleep rather than a drizzle. He does not sleep perhaps entirely deeply, occasionally muttering something quiet, but he's not to obnoxious or loud about it. And his elbows aren't pointy.
No moose herds. This is good.
Nor people tied to dogs.