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Perhaps it's been there a while...perhaps it just got there. But there in your inbox is a short message in grass green lettering. "I changed my mind. I don't want children. I want a rabbit. --Tired obstetrician" (to Riley)
"The penguins say they like the idea of a rabbit, another to convert to the dark side. How about a long hot shower and dinner as well? - Riley, who would make an obstetrics joke, but I don't know any."
"I though the rabbits were already the dark side? And you, my love, are a vile tempter. Shower and dinner sounds more like heaven than anything accessible. I may actually kick out of here and go home for that. --Why did the obstetrician cross the road?" (to Riley)
"I'll meet you there? I can skeedle with clear conscience. -- To flee the hordes of women who had a great deal to say about the temperature of the speculum?"
"I think I like your punchline to the joke better! Sounds good. I'll be upstairs in about ten minutes then. Just need to close down my office. --Me" (to Riley)
"Whoops, there was a punchline? I'll see you there - Me too"
[Travel home snipped]
Various smells waft through the apartment, obviously Riley has deemed it his turn to cook, and with one arm he is removing his jacket, and with the other stirring. "Evening, love."
Clara lets herself in, her lab coat slung over one shoulder. She pauses just inside the door, eyes widening significantly, and without speaking tosses her coat over a chair and immediately crosses over to attempt to hug you from behind. "You're wonderful. Saints I'm lucky. What smells good?"
Riley laughs quietly, attempting to return the hug despite his lack of armage. "Nothing fancy, steak strip and cheese sandwiches. But it's quick if messy to eat."
Clara attempts to relieve you of your jacket before heading back for her own to go and hang both up. "Darling, if it tastes half as good as it smells, I'll likely be putty in your hands tonight." She re-emerges from the closet, rubbing at her head. "I have...well, good news, really."
Riley pokes at the fajita-esque beef strips, adding cheese. "Good news is good."
Clara opens the refrigerator to rummage out a soda, nodding absently. "Mm-hmm. Your sister's not pregnant. I was wrong. Want a soda?"
"Okay, so there's not gonna be a new religion and I don't need to go buy a toy firetruck?" Riley questions as he sets long rolls over one burner to toast. "Awww. Yeah, please?"
Clara chuckles vaguely, shaking her head as she tugs out another red can and snaps both open, and sets one on the counter by you, leaning against the counter not far away. "Sorry, but no. No new religions, no toys. Well...toys are good. Toys are always good. It was that blasted implant of hers. It'd been a while since she'd had it updated, and it was misfiltering, tricking her body into thinking it was pregnant."
Riley scoops up the can, taking a sip. "Thanks love." He nods, settling the can back down. "That is a good thing, as much as I'd've loved to be an uncle again."
"It really is," Clara agrees, watching the cooking with interest and coming up behind you to rub a hand over your back while peeking around you. "I don't think she was all that thrilled with the prospect of motherhood. And then this evening...the four Sectassian wives that aren't pregnant? They all wanted tests, just to be sure."
Riley sighs quietly at that, although it is a snickered sigh. He reaches up to tug down plates and a bag of chips. "Ahhgh, what a day then. My poor Clara." Scooping up meat and cheese onto toasted rolls he settles each sandwich onto a plate. Snapping off the heat, he uses one hand to offer a plate and the other to tuck the hot pan under running water.
Clara takes the proffered plate and snags her soda before heading for the table, grinning in response. "It gets better. Just before I contacted you? The Edreeni delegate that's expecting came in because she thought she was in premature labor. It was heartburn. I swear there's something in the water," she adds, laughing.
Riley tucks the pan into the washer and snags his own plate and the bag of chips. Settling both on the table he just shakes his head, "Oh in Peesh's name... Baby day." He gestures to the food, "Not fancy I'm afraid, but still, dinner. Then a long hot shower for you."
Clara pauses to close her eyes and exhale a soft sigh of contentment. "See, this is why I love you. You spoil me rotten. How was your day?" she asks before scooping up the sandwich for a bite.
Riley tears open the chip bag, snagging several for his plate and nudging it in your direction. "A little confusing, but not too bad. I got Nick to take those couple weeks to go home after the wedding. They're having it in a month."
Clara tips some of the chips into her plate single-handedly, brows scooting up in surprise. "That soon? That's wonderful! I was afraid you wouldn't be able to talk him into more than a month. What'd you have to do, threaten to toss him in the brig?"
Riley grins as he snags a bite of his own sandwich, shaking his head. "He did the bulk of the work for me. The poor kid really -wants- to spend some time at home."
Clara nods around another bit of her sandwich, then reaches for a sip of soda before agreeing. "I thought he might. He's just so remarkably family oriented, and then to have family born that he's never even seen? Not fun at all, likely."
Riley grins as he nods, "You had it spot on. Thank you for the suggestion. He intends to take it, the boat a couple of days so it'll be just him and Ela, and then the trip home."
Clara pauses in the demolition of the sandwich to regard you with a smile that's mainly in her eyes along with a fair amount of adoring approval. "I knew you could get him to take off. Well, I knew you could fix the situation, at least. Any other bits of fun?"
Riley shakes his head, settling the remains of his sandwich on his plate to snag a couple of chips. "He fixed it himself. Nothing else wild and exciting I'm afraid. Although my balance has been getting better all day."
Clara gestures her soda at you, nodding. "Good. I was hoping you would, but I was afraid to make predictions. I don't know the first thing about overexposure to hyper." She pauses to finish the last of her sandwich, obviously ravenous. "I had a long chat with Mr. Czolgosz today. Pleasant man."
Riley munches on a chip, "Long chat?" He echoes. "Pleasant is good, he and Cori seem to be together a lot."
Clara regards the chips a moment, then munches it and nods thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair. "Hopefully he's taking care of her right now. They seem to be good friends. Know anything about him?"
"He works for the Interior Department. They have him listed as an auditor. He drives several diplomats nuts regularly. One of them came storming up and demanding I do something about him. Seems she'd accosted him about something he was wearing or eating or something and he informed he most surely approved of the murder of cows, and himself stalked out at night to perform ritual bovine sacrifice...There was more to it, but you get the idea. Anya kept a straight face. I had to plead an allergic reaction. She was -so- scandalized," Riley half muses, sipping his soda.
Clara blinks several times at the explanation, then as expected dissolves into laughter, burying her face in her hands. By the time she can talk again, she's shaking her head, grinning and snickering. "From what Corian said, he's the one who suggested those disc guns she got us. Interior Department, hmm? Didn't know any of their people were assigned to the Complex. I thought the Fleet handled most of the day to day business."
"They have a whole suite of offices downstairs," Riley explains, settling crossed arms on the table. "For keeping track of the diplomats, and elections and such. Electronic crime, election practices, the white collar crimes."
Clara wrinkles her nose in distaste, shaking her head. "Oh, yes, I know -who- they are. Grandfather used to get annual visits since it's fairly well assumed no Terran politician can be honest. I guess I never paid attention here. Which reminds me...I was down there in the AF offices today. I swear I'm going to throw a speculum at the next lieutenant who gives me the runaround about getting another doctor."
Riley tilts his head, brows half lifting towards curly bangs, "They're giving you the run-around? Want me to see if I can wheedle something? Not that they're likely to listen to me either, but I can at least try."
Clara exhales a soft sigh and reaches across the table to brush the backs of her fingertips along your jaw. "Would you, love? Running the place on just three physicians is starting to wear on both Jones and I. I can't tell with Vryce...he's always crabby."
"Anything for you my love," Riley answers, and then adds a devilish grin. "Besides, if it causes me to be less likely to have to endure Vryce's presence..."
Clara laughs merrily and rises, snagging her plate and empty soda can. "Nope, love. You're my patient. I get to torture you all by myself. I just can't see why they think that because we lose one doctor, we can get by without his position filled. You'd have to censure me if I threw a water balloon at the lieutenant acting as receptionist down there, wouldn't you?"
"What water balloon? What receptionist? I don't see any balloon or receptionist, where's the problem? I can't imagine a problem..." Riley's tone is teasingly amused as he follows with his own dishes.
Clara snickers, setting her plate in the washer and holding a hand out to take yours. "Haven't a clue. No idea what you're talking about. Although silly string might work, too. Or a bucket of baby powder. Something suitably evil," she muses, shifting a glass to the back of a rack.
Riley hands you the plate, attempting to swipe a kiss as well. "Perhaps the baby powder -and- the water balloon." He straightens with hardly a wobble. "But I'll pester first thing in the morning. Now, a hot shower for you?"
Clara settles the final plate in the washer without looking, being more interested in the kiss, then grins. "Trying to get rid of me already?" she accuses teasingly. "Or just wash off the contamination from so many brushes with impending motherhood today?"
Riley laughs softly, shifting to attempt to engulf you in a hug. "No, I just want you all comfortable and relaxed. It's been a long day, and some being comfortable is in the cards."
Clara is more that willing to be engulfed, slipping her arms around your back easily and grinning up. "All this concern...goodness. Not that I'm complaining. What about you, though? You're going to relax too, right?"
Riley nods cheerfully, even recently trimmed curls bobbing. "Of course, but -I- haven't been dealing with breedable people all day."
Clara untangles a hand to reach up ruffle your hair, smile going wistful. "Sometimes I wish you could grow this out long. I swear you hair is addicting. There's worse than dealing with breeding women, though. It's a happy kind of frustration." A snicker escapes. "Although I wish I'd had a camera when you thought it was me. Your face was -classic-."
Riley looks rather sheepish at that last, nodding. "I was a -bit- startled, yeah. The implant and all..." He half glances up at his hair, "If they'd let me, I'd grow it out for you dear, I swear."
Clara shakes her head, vastly amused, then leans in to rest her cheek against your chest. "Wouldn't happen, implant or no. I've been on suppressors for years now." Her arms tighten slightly in a hug. "I like you the way you are, though, short hair or no."
Riley returns the hug with care, "Thank you love... Now don't you hear hot water calling your name?"
Clara backs away, rolling her eyes and tossing a lazy salute at you. "Aye, sir. One shower coming up," she replies and wheels about to head towards the bathroom. Before long, the sound of running water can be heard from beyond, muffling quiet humming.
Riley changes into shorts and a t-shirt, tugging the window open a hair and then moving to pull down the bed. Getting it settled, he flops down onto it, sprawling and stretching muscles with a series of creaks and pops.
The water doesn't shut off, but the door opens a crack and Clara's voice queries ever so innocently, "Love? Could you grab me a t-shirt out of the closet? I forgot one."
Roll, creak, pop, stretch, Riley clambers from his sprawl to his feet. "Sure love, of course." Rummaging in the closet he tugs down an oversized and comfortable t-shirt and pads across the room to offer it.
Rather than take the shirt, Clara's hand closes on yours as she suddenly bursts into laughter and hauls firmly, attempting to swing you in an arc to end up under the water while she snickers madly, using her other hand to hold a massive towel modestly about herself. "Sucker."
With a vast host of spluttered and acking noises, Riley attempts to mop now dripping curls from his face. Not to mention his now drenched clothing, "Aaaack, wench!"
Clara backs away as far as the doorway, leaning against it and laughing merrily. "Gotcha. I can't believe you fell for that. Don't you know doctors are evil?" she teases with a wink, then drags a towel off the rack and holds it out to you. "Love you..."
Riley settles the towel on the rack, tugging off his soaked shirt. "Evil, vicious, and -really- evil. Still, I'm soaked now, I might as well take advantage of hot water as well. Couldja' toss my flannel and jeans in here?"
Clara's brows quirk as she nods and turns to head for the closet, using her free hand along the way to twist her hair back out of her face. She returns in a moment with both jeans and flannel shirt. "Here you go. I think I may even have left you a whole five minutes of hot water," she offers innocently before turning to finally be nice and stop torturing.
Riley acks quietly, closing the door. He's in there for longer than five minutes, so obviously the water supply has held, or Riley has changed his opinion of cold water.
Clara is entirely too cheerful for having fulfilled her evil quota for the day, taking the time to change into a t-shirt that's dry. She heads over to sit tailor fashion on the bed and braid her hair and watch the world outside the window while listening absently to the water, smirking now and again.
Emerging at last with towel-dry curls and in flannel and jeans, Riley pads back over to the bed. "I can't call you evil anymore. That felt wonderful."
Clara leans back against the wall, pulling her knees in and resting extended arms along them, braid resting down over one shoulder as she smiles warmly at you. "No more evil? Hmm. I'll have to think of more. I'm glad it worked though. More hot water than five minutes, I assume?"
Riley sinks down onto the bed, sprawling again. "Yeah, it held on for a while. Arthur being a genius and all." He hrrmms softly in contentment, "This is such a -nice- bed."
"Does that mean you're not too terribly heartbroken to have moved out of the other quarters?" Clara asks, unfolding to stretch out on the other side of the bed.
"Oh yeah, heartbroken," Riley sighs in mock anguish, "I -miss- the bed that was too short and the lack of space, really, I mean how do I exist without it?"
Clara laughs quietly, reaching a hand over to poke you in the arm before stretching comfortably. "I don't know, really. You may just perish, and then I'd be heartbroken. Nope, we'll just have to move back so you can exist."
Riley doesn't budge from his stretch, "Nope, no moving. I'm here now, I'm comfortable, the bed is stuck with me."
Clara lets her head fall to the side to regard you with definite amusement. "Yeah? Just the bed, or the rest of the room, too? Me, I've decided the ceiling is something I want to take with me when we go."
"I think we oughta just stick with it all. The room with the drums all off by itself is really fun." Riley murmurs, shifting over closer to you. "Makes things much easier."
Clara shifts to her side to face you, reaching over lazily to rest a hand on your chest. "What, so I don't keep you up till all hours?" She frowns slightly for a moment. "-Can- you hear the drums when the door is shut?"
Riley brings a hand up to cover yours, "If I'm awake I can," he answers with a yawn. "But I have to listen carefully."
A fond half-smile appears on Clara's face at the yawn. "Sorry, love. I'll play more quietly. I really do need to learn to bake just so I can take Arthur cookies or something. Or kiss him on the cheek, something suitable to make him blush. He really did an outstanding job putting this place together."
"No need to apologize. Like I said, if I didn't -want- to hear it, I couldn't But it's comforting to listen to." Riley nods, looking rather thoughtful, "I sent him a long and involved thank you letter. He and I have picked on each other for years, but this...This was thought out."
"Really?" Clara's voice is soft with surprise. "Comforting. Hmm. Granmere says they give her a headache," she muses, then scoots a hint closer, fairly delighted. "I nearly walked right back out when I first saw the place. I was certain it couldn't be ours. It's lovely. Arthur outdid himself."
Riley shifts closer to you as well, offering a shoulder for a pillow, "Yes, but see, I'm not your grandmother. They're very soothing, they remind me of you, and you make me very happy indeed."
Clara accepts the offer of the shoulder, moving just enough to settle in against your side, arm draped across your chest. "You know one of the things I missed while being at the outpost? Not having a penguin to reach out and touch during the middle of work. It reminds me how close you are."
Riley shifts an arm around you, relaxing rather comfortably. "Ahhh, so you missed the abductees did you, uh huh..."
Clara slides her hand down just enough to wiggle her fingers over your ribs. "Evil man. I -did- miss the penguins. Sheesh," she breathes, rolling her eyes in amusement. "I missed you more, though. Then penguins can't cook. Heck, they can't even make coffee."
Riley twitches slightly from the wiggling, yawning again with a chuckle. "They don't drink coffee see. There isn't a fish flavored kind."
Clara abandons the tickling to tangle her fingers in the flannel comfortably, nuzzling at your shoulder for a moment. "Fish flavored coffee sounds particularly terrifying. Sleepy, darling?"
Riley mmrrhrrms softly, pausing a moment to stifle another yawn. "Yeah, the hot water got out all the kinks and all."
Clara pulls away and unconcernedly climbs over you to get off the bed. "Haul down the comforter and I'll get the lights, then. Did you need anything else before I got back in bed?"
Riley rummages for the aforementioned comforter, dragging it into the appropriate position. "Just you is all I need."
Clara clicks the light off, the streetlights from beyond the window sending a pale bluish haze through the room that nearly purples her hair as she lets the braid loose on her way back. She slips under the comforter, pausing to hover and attempt a kiss. "You have me, love," she offers, then settles back against your side.
Riley returns the kiss with sleepy care, snuggling in close and protectively. "Then I have everything I've ever, or will ever, need."
"Chocolate," corrects Clara around a yawn, reclaiming her previous grip on the flannel and her place at your shoulder. "You need chocolate. And penguins. And Clara to patch you up from time to time. And kiss. Once in a while," she adds, words punctuated by faint slurring of comfort.
Riley's quiet chuckle rumbles in the darkness and he squeezes you close in a brief hug. "Good night m'love. Sleep well."
Clara smiles with quiet contentment, eyes falling closed as she settles herself more firmly against you and relaxes. "G'night, dearest. Sweet dreams." And even if she doesn't sleep instantly, it's soon, and she seems content to just be close until it does claim her.
Riley is probably asleep just a moment before, quiet a moment, listening to the sounds of the pavilion below.