|
|
Disclaimer: Not much angst, but lots more sap. Don't say I didn't warn you. ;)
The visual comm in your office flashes the green signal, a preceding code announcing that the origin of transmission is coming from a low orbit over the planet. (to Riley)
There's a significant amount of time before the comm is answered, perhaps ten minutes nearly. Finally however it kicks in for a reply, Riley attempting to look clueful, which he perhaps could be, awake, which he most assuredly does not appear to be, and polite, which he seems to manage with little trouble, "Addison, how may I assist?"
"Addison? Hey, old buddy! Hells alive man, you look like a shuttle dropped on you." Captain Elzec of the Ellis Arnold peers into the screen with a worried look. "You awake enough for an easy errand, my friend?" (to Riley)
Riley chuckles wryly, rubbing at his eyes with his palms in an attempt to clear them. "It has been one of those lifetimes, eh? And it was an underground draconic temple being used by a human sacrifice cult, not a shuttle. Sure, anything, how can I help?"
"Hey, no doubt. Sounds like you got a whole oxcart load of excitement down there. Maybe I'll scuttle the ship and come play cops and robbers with you?" The captain laughs easily, tapping lightly at his screen. "Wake up, pal. You gotta VIP with some pretty scary Terran family connections headed your way, and my guess is she'll want someone to meet her at the shuttle bay at y'all's spaceport. So spiff up the uniform, boyo and go make nice, eh?" (to Riley)
There's a quiet groan, and Riley nods. "Thanks for the heads up, old friend. I swear, I'm living in the dress togs these days." He does grin in amusement however, "You? Groundbound? They'd have to put you in a box first like as not."
Stifling a faint snicker, Elzec nods with seeming sobriety although his eyes are dancing with mischief. "Oh, sure. That and a padded room and a nifty jacket. Anyhoo, ETA for our lady of connections is ten minutes, so you'd better haul. Save me a glass of that poison you drink next time I'm on R&R, okay?" (to Riley)
Riley erks quietly, trying to shake himself awake. "Ten minutes, good grief, better dash. Thanks again." There's a pause as he moves to turn off the comm, "It's not -poison-, it just smells that way."
Outright laughing now, Elzec waves at the screen. "Sure, tell it to the preacher, buddy. Now scoot and spiff up the old Addison charm. Y'never know. This one prolly has the credits to take care of you well into old age. Bubye..." he singsongs, still snickering. "Elzec out." (to Riley)
SECURITY> Kyara glances well up. "Courier's not here yet," she offers, then giggles at Niko.
SECURITY> Looking altogether exasperated, Riley pads out in dress uniform, or at least mostly there. He's obviously been in something of a hurry to get it on. Spotting Kyara he brightens, "Kya," he pleads, "If I grovel will you get the danged cuff buttons?"
SECURITY> Niko's brows lift slowly. "Not -another- election..."
SECURITY> Niko is, one hopes, joking.
SECURITY> Kyara chuckles, rising. "Groveling is not necessary," she beckons.
SECURITY> Riley hmphs softly at Niko, stifling a yawn. "No, thankfully. Some Terran VIP or some ridiculousness, and at this hour, I swear...Captain Elzec commed me up and gave fair warning." Kyara gets a grateful look and he offers his hands and hence the cuffs. The buttons are very small indeed, and his hands are anything but. "Thanks, Kya."
SECURITY> Niko gets to his feet and rummages for a red can, wiggling it lightly and casting an inquiring look towards Riley. "Hopefully it won't take long, whoever it is."
SECURITY> Kyara's very small hands are quick in fastening the buttons. "You, an Admiral and senior officer of this Complex, have to greet a VIP?"
SECURITY> Riley shakes his head at Niko, "Thanks, but I've no time left." He nods to Kyara, "The higher the rank, the more silly things one must do. It's in the rules. Thanks." Offering a quick wave he all but jogs out the door.
SECURITY> Niko shakes his head as he tucks the soda back in the fridge. "Ahh, the joys of not having a lot of rank," he says philosophically, as he returns to his seat.
Riley arrives from the Central Atrium.
In the midst of the half dozen or so personnel emerging from the shuttle, Clara steps out while yawning, absently rubbing at her eyes with the hand not holding a massive duffle over one shoulder. She glances down to brush a bit of lint off her shipsuit, sighing at the Naval design, then starts for the archway, still half sedated.
Riley comes loping in, having given up on trying not to appear in a hurry. This has done little good for his dress uniform, which hadn't even had a real chance to recover from two elections. He lacks a great deal of shiny in fact. There's a resigned air about him that rather entirely evaporates as he spots you. There's a gleeful yelp and then he goes bounding across the remianing space, jumping -over- luggage, and around people, and generally acting like he's an ex-football player in an airline ad. Reaching his destination he attempts to sweep you into a hug, "Clara!"
"Greg?" The name is half-yelped as the ground somehow disappears from beneath Clara's feet, the duffel being dropped as she wraps her arms about your neck tightly. "It -is- you...how did you know? I never commed to tell you..."
Riley is laughing and all but crying at once, hugging you close. "A'trezla, here... oh..." He is rather at a loss for words for a moment before chuckling sheepishly, "I didn't, love. Elzec, the twit, just said I ought to get down here and meet some Terran VIP. Oh love, you're -here-..."
Clara does all the crying this time, although in the midst of delighted if rather exhausted laughter as well, clinging tightly to you. "I'm here, darling. I'm home...my orders are in my bag," she assures in a half mumbled sound into your shoulder. "Elzec?" This brings on another spate of laughter. "He -is- a twit. Terran VIP indeed. I was the only Terran on that shuttle."
Riley all but drops you in his decidedly stunned relief, "Here for good?" He releases you just enough to bring up a hand to gently wipe away tears. "He meant you, the teasing twit," He pauses, searching for the exact wording, "And I quote, 'You gotta VIP with some pretty scary Terran family connections headed your way, and my guess is she'll want someone to meet her at the shuttle bay at y'all's spaceport. So spiff up the uniform, boyo and go make nice, eh?'"
Clara snickers helplessly, reaching up to trap your hand at her face. "Elzec is one of the worst practical jokers I've ever met, although I -guess- it wasn't so inaccurate. I do have a scary family, and...well, maybe I'm important to you?" She peers up at you with a wistful smile, fairly adoring. "I'm here for good, yeah. Conrad found a loophole to get me back. Something to do with Infantry can only spend so long at null-gee." Her head drops slightly so she can look up through her lashes. "Major Aleron, reporting for duty sir? Permission to return?"
Riley pulls you all the closer in one armed hug, "Granted...Oh Clara...my wonderful Clara, I missed you so much...and to have you -back-." He chuckles again, rather raggedly but by no means displeased. "I thought to be driven past madness in wishing you were here, but now to have you in my arms again..."
Clara leans in for a long moment, almost shivering in palpable relief. "Back for good. I'm not leaving again...had a long talk with Jensen." Inhaling a deep sigh, she pulls away enough to rub at her eyes with one hand, then reaches for her duffel, although the other hand isn't letting go of you. "Take me home? I don't think I want to stay here in the spaceport all night. Too close to those blasted shuttles."
Riley attempts to relieve you of the bag, "Home I can manage, love. It sounds like a wonderful idea in fact."
Clara actually allows the bag to be relieved, casting up a look of pure gratitude. "You're not still on duty? And you didn't have to dress up...although you look...amazing," she murmurs, sighing contentedly as she lets her eyes drink in the sight. "Lead on, my dearest of COs."
"I commed Nick, he'll sort out the couriers." Riley is in far too delighted a state to realize he's not being very helpful. "Elzec suggested dressing up, had I known it was you...I'd've found flannel and a t-shirt, things I'm less likely to do damage with by holding you too tightly." The uniform is however useful as he begins making his way towards the Atrium. He offers you a grin, "I guess I get poked if I point out that aside from being as perfectly gorgeous as you always are, you look properly Navy. You groundpounders clean up well." He tacks on a wink.
Clara does indeed poke you in the arm, along with a rather emphatic raspberry. "Stow it, spacejocky. I'm do -not- look Navy. This is just easier after a month without gravity," she harrumphs teasingly, still not letting go of your hand and following after cheerfully.
[travel spam snipped]
Riley sets his keys aside, and places your duffle on the end of the couch. "Home, such as it is." He offers a sheepish grin, "It's a bit dusty I'm afraid, things've been a bit chaotic and all."
Clara leans against the door for a moment, taking in the sight of the room almost as someone lost in the desert would look at a glass of water. "Huh? Dust?" She refocuses on you, then rolls her eyes merrily for all that they're still dilated. "After a month in a sterile atmosphere, this is a relief. More important," she notes, coming up to you and linking fingers behind your neck, "you're here."
Riley wraps his arms quite fully around you, once again squeezing you close. "Together again, I swear, a month passed like a lifetime with you absent." He grins down at you in bemusement, "I probably ought to sweep you up and tuck you in bed however, shuttles and all..."
Clara arches a brow, reaching one hand back to begin pulling the pins from her hair. "Is that so? Not even home an hour, and look where he's trying to get me?" She winks in a grin, obviously delighted as she folds her hairpins in one hand and shakes the curls down before cuddling in. "It was just a mild sedative. I was hoping to surprise you...are you surprised?"
Riley rests his head gently against to your hair, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a contented sigh. "Terribly so, love. I do not believe I have -ever- had a more pleasant surprise." One hand comes up beneath your hair to your shoulderblades, fingers spread as if to touch as much of you as possible. "Hey, the penguins made me do it."
"Always knew the penguins were smooth talkers," Clara decides, still nuzzling at your shoulder. The fingers clenched around the hairpins press firmly to your lower back, keeping her close. "I could have commed you before boarding the Ellis, but...well, this was fun. I didn't think Elzec would warn you though."
There's a soft chuckle as Riley attempts to guide you to the couch, which is somewhat impeded by the fact he doesn't want to let go in the slightest. "Evil tormenting doctor lady, -evil-, yep evil." He shakes his head, "Good that he did, or you'd've gotten me still with the desk prints on my face."
Clara manages to set the hairpins on the coffee table before half-tumbling down atop you, over balanced. "Ack! Okay, couch. This is good. And I can -sit- on this," she says almost wonderingly, prodding at one cushion. "It is -so- nice not to have to strap down to whatever furniture is being used."
Riley does not appear likely to object to having you on top of him, instead cuddling close. "A bit different after null I take it? Sorry love, didn't mean to make you trip up. Gravity's the law around here I'm afraid, and of course I have to enforce the law."
"Yes, mister officer friendly," Clara agrees with wide-eyed over innocence, rewrapping her arms about your shoulders and not making any attempts to move off to one side. "Still, very cruel of you to enforce such a silly law of physics of poor little old groundpounder me." She glances down at her blatantly Naval uniform. "My grandfather would have a cow or two if he saw me in this."
Riley does not bother to repress a delighted snicker, his eyes still alight with pleasure. "I think you look cute as a member of the One True Fleet. See, the penguins got their way eventually, it just took time is all."
Clara pokes you again, this time in the ribs, feigning aloofness and sniffing aristocratically. "One True Fleet indeed. Horsefeathers. I think the penguins ought to put on these silly suits and go live on a station for a while."
Riley squirms at the poke, snickering softly and trying to look innocent and failing. "I'm sure they would if they could," he lowers his voice conspiratorially, "They don't meet the height requirement."
"Yeah, but see, that's where waivers come in," Clara explains, still poking in random rib locations. "I'm more than willing to donate this one to them. My fatigues are in my bag, and even clean. Just wrinkled from here to eternity."
Riley continues attempting to escape tickling fingers, snickering helplessly, "Evil doctor, -evil-," he laughs softly, despite his intense amusement, "Torment! This is torment!"
Clara beams at the monikers, nodding in thorough agreement as she continues to seek out ticklish spots. "Of course it is. I'm evil and wicked, and I love you," she replies rather absently, fingers cheerfully busy. "What's your point?"
Riley is now entirely and completely helpless, half twisting beneath you in a rather unimpressive attempt to escape. His laughter is mostly wheezes at this point as he snickers helplessly. "Ack! Torment! I'm ticklish you wonderful wench."
Clara giggles helplessly, finally giving up on tickling as the squirming dumps her off to one side, half off the couch, hair in her face. She peers at you through the reddish cascade with a smirk. "Of course you're ticklish. How else would I keep you cowed enough to stay with me?"
Riley just lies still on the couch, laughing quietly still and trying to catch his breath. "I wouldn't go anywhere, even if I weren't ticklish. But can I be ducked instead of cowed? Or maybe sheeped?"
Clara slides to a seat on the floor, snickering as she unlaces her boots. "Ducked. You're a duck. Niko's a duck. It's a long story, but you're both ducks." She glances back upwards, pushing back her hair. "You okay, love? You're not still hurting from the squishing thing, are you?"
Riley levers himself up into a seated position, chuckling softly still. "I'm fine. How is Nick a duck? How am I a duck? Can I quack?"
"Nonono, -I'm- a quack. I was assured so many times over the last month." A brief shadow crosses Clara's face before she shakes herself and tugs off the boots, setting them to one side neatly. "Just part of a conversation with Kya. I was explaining to her that you two took to military like like ducks to water. So you're ducks." Her hand reaches up to settle on your knee. "My duck."
"Quack." Riley agrees solemnly. Then there's a pause, "No, no, no, I get to quack, you are not a quack. You have many pointy objects, but are not a quack. -Vryce- is a quack." There's a wince at that. "Your duck, forever and ever and always. Quack."
Clara shifts around to kneel in front of you, folding her arms on your knees and half smiling up fondly. "Vryce is...somewhat lacking in bedside manner. I'll be interested to see what Jones can tell me." One hand comes up to trail a line down your chest. "But not tonight. Tonight I'm just glad to be at home with the man I want to grow old with, fighting off schmoozing penguins and... I missed you so much," she adds in a final soft wistfulness.
Riley brings his hands to rest on your arms, squeezing gently. His voice does hold the barest hint of steel however, obviously Vryce has him -really- annoyed still. "Vryce is an idiot, reason to avoid medbay like the plague." He shakes his head, "Well, not now that you're here again." He beams down at you though, "I missed you too love, terribly, my wonderful Clara. I missed having you here in my arms."
"Avoid Medbay?" Clara repeats somewhat reproachfully. "Even if I lure you in with chocolate?" She glances down at herself briefly, then back up coyly. "Yes, but see...I'm not -in- your arms. I'm not sure why I'm not, but I suppose I can't occupy them -all- the time," she muses, rubbing her cheek lightly on one of your hands.
Riley slides down from the couch agreeably, reaching to encompass you in his arms. "Chocolate lures would work. Clara lures work better. But see, you've been gone, and he hasn't. Avoidance was the best policy."
Clara sighs with a fair amount of relief as she's pulled in again, leaning against your chest and finally lifting a hand to brush through your hair. "Missed your hair," she murmurs. "Missed your eyes, your voice, being close to you, everything. I'd wake up at night sometimes, expecting to see just your eyes in the dark like we do here sometimes...and it was all a dream. Like waking from a dream into a nightmare."
Riley cannot purr. He's not physically capable of it. If he could though, he would be. Your fingers in his hair seems to be causing this effect. "Nightmare's over though, and everything's all right again, everything's the way it needs to be."
"Everything about being there was wrong," Clara continues, the words tumbling out now without thought. "I couldn't handle the weightlessness like they could. I'm a lousy methodical researcher...used to solving problems as they pop up. I'm not Navy, I'm too young..." She inhales a long sigh, fingers trailing through the curls down behind your ear. "Will I be reassigned to Medbay here?"
Riley's arms tighten around you protectively, "All that's all over now, and it will -not- happen again." His words are firm. Then there's a pause, and he sounds confused, "Unless there's somewhere else you'd rather be assigned?"
"I miss being a real doctor," Clara murmurs into your shoulder, nuzzling gently. "I don't mind working for Jones if he doesn't want to step aside," she adds. "Although he said he would when I came back," she adds thoughtfully. "Oh, I don't care. Not tonight. All that matters is you're here, and we're together again, a'trez. Do you have early morning shift?"
"I'd rather you be in Medbay, I trust you see. Nice trustable Clara." Riley's words are murmuring. "Sort of the early shift, but it's not a big deal. Can be fixed if you'd like."
Clara lifts her head to peer up at your, her fingers brushing from your hair to your face. "No, love. I didn't warn you...I don't expect you to change your schedule for me. It's not as if I won't see you at the end of the day tomorrow." She cants her head to one side, wearily amused. "You -are- going to start sleeping in the bed again, yes?"
"But see, my schedule's been so weird lately," Riley cannot manage to stifle a yawn. "Now that you're here, yeah. Have to get a bigger one in fact."
Clara pushes somewhat ineffectively at your jacket, half smiling vaguely. "Mm-hmm. One you fit on, definitely." She pauses and peers up as something hits home. "Weird schedule? Why? Yours is usually pretty stable, I thought..."
Riley chuckles quietly, "Maybe one of the places on the A hall, with windows." He nods, "Ever since the election, there's been so much stuff, I've not been off the schedule. I've still slept and all, just when I had an opening rather than scheduled."
This earns another smoothing of your hair, only to have it disarrayed again as Clara chuckles softly. "Like snoozing at your desk and having your nap interrupted by our favorite captain?" Her brows lift in restrained hopefulness. "Does this mean you still want us to cohabitate?"
Riley looks rather sheepish, but nods. "Very odd looks one gets when one does that, the facial imprints and all." He looks decidedly hopeful himself, "If...if you don't mind? I've always been willing, love..."
Clara answers with a rather emphatic yet careful kiss, then nods solemnly. "Wherever you are is home. I realized that before I left, and didn't know how to tell you," she explains somewhat abashedly.
Melt, melt, melt... That kiss has quite the effect, and Riley is now putty. "I'll pester Arthur first thing in the morning, a'trezla. All that matters now is that things are as they should be. You are here, and we are together."
Clara tilts her head with a thoughtful expression, still toying with the hair behind your ear and tracing patters through the curls. "Do you think he'll mind? It's really easier than assigning me entirely new quarters...and us moving into...our quarters." The words are somewhat awed before she smiles up. "We -should- be together with the lights out and wound up in blankets, though. It's late."
"The man owes me after all this, he'd best not mind," Riley says with a rueful chuckle, levering himself up to his knees, and then after a pause to his feet, offering you a hand up. "Blankets and darkness sound lovely."
Clara accepts the hand, rising somewhat unsteadily to her feet, the mixture of sedative and readaptation to gravity still keeping walking an uncertain activity. "Wooo...lovely. Remind me to test myself for calcium loss in the morning," she mutters, rubbing at the back of her neck.
Riley offers a steadying arm, leading you to the bed. "In the morning," he assures, "I will. But for now, you need sleep, love."
"So do you, sailor," Clara returns wryly, lowering onto the edge of the bed, then staring across at her duffel somewhat helplessly and muttering about stupid null-gravity outposts. "Hon, can I borrow a t-shirt? It's either that or I sleep in...well, considerably less than this thing. It's comfortable for travel, but -not- sleep outside of a wall unit."
Riley bows, hands dropped to knees, before he rises again with a grin. "Anything for you love." He goes to rummage in the closet, removing a soft t-shirt in deep green with random alien writing scrawled on it. He offers it. "A t-shirt, or whatever makes you comfortable."
Clara holds the shirt up with evaluation, then reaches up in the attempt to snare a hand in the front of your uniform and tug you down for a quick kiss before pushing cautiously towards her feet and heading for the bathroom. After a moment, the door opens fractionally for her to toss out the shipsuit playfully, followed by the t-shirt clad doctor, grinning. "The Aleron rendition of burlesque," she announces, flopping back onto the bed again. "Home..."
Riley is more than willing to be tugged down for a kiss. When you return he's laughing softly, "And well done at that." He's setting about getting off the fancy jacket and the carefully buttoned cuffs and collar of his dress uniform, "Home," he affirms. "And it wasn't it without you."
Clara takes a moment to burrow blissfully under the comforter, scooting to the far side to allow you room. "Oh, it was, though. Like a bright shining beacon light-years distant. A nova, or a newly formed star, always calling to me at night. A comfortable room with penguins and an overtall, handsome man who holds my heart captive," she decides, poking her head up from under the covers to lean on one elbow, watching contentedly.
Riley manages to undo the offending buttons and drapes the jacket over a chair. Snagging a rumpled t-shirt and shorts, he ducks into the other room, returning after a moment clad far more casually. He clambers into bed after you, trying to stifle yet another yawn and argue his eyelids open. "Here now, and everything will be fine. Having you here fixes everything, m'wonderful Clare."
Clara calls the lights off and immediately pulls in close, not giving you even a half-chance to get away. "Everything will always be fine," she murmurs somewhat distractedly, cuddling in. "No more empty beds."
Riley certainly wasn't seeking an opportunity to escape, instead wrapping an arm tightly and protectively around you. "No more empty beds. No more taking my a'trezla away from me. Won't let them."
"Won't go again. Even a month hurt too badly," Clara murmurs somewhere at your chest as she seems to decide that it makes a good pillow. "M'home, now, and I love you. And we can finally sleep. You should," she adds quietly. Hello, kettle.
Riley doesn't seem to be disagreeing with that either, in fact keeping awake long enough not to be rude seems to be more his problem. "Sleep's good," And each word is obviously an effort, "You should sleep too. Thank you for coming home."
Clara seems to realize this too, taking note of your reactions even through her own sedated haze that's taking over again fiercely as the adrenalin of coming home wears off. "Thank you for letting me come home," she murmurs, fading quickly. "I'll sleep too," she agrees, venturing a final fluttered touch at your jaw before her hand goes slack. Perhaps the sedative was stronger than she admitted.
Riley is no more than a heartbeat behind, out like the proverbial light.