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DINING> Yes, Heaven forbid, Riley has managed to make it out of his office to forage for food. He stalks the vending machine, carefully moving so as not to startle it into any sudden moves. In a swift and sneaky move he conquers the device, acquiring a soda, a candy bar, and *drumroll please* cheese crackers. Spotting the wave he returns it as he heads back towards the general exitage. "Good afternoon oh looniest of cousins, how are you today?"
DINING> Jay prepares to duck if necessary. "Looniest? Of all our cousins? Dang, I'm flattered. Today I'm fine. Yesterday I was fine. I'm /always/ fine, Rile." He pauses before asking, "And you?"
DINING> Ryoshia wanders into the dining room. No she did not just examine your fullnames or anything. Why would you think that? You're silly. She heads over towards Hal, quickly tapping in what she wants and taking what she gets.
DINING> "Okay, looniest one in range. Deech is weirder." Riley's hands have soda and all in them, hair ruffling is not in the cards. "Pretty good, working, existing...I took a quick-hop trip to Terra for my review, met Clara's mother, did not get beaten to a pulp... The world's not to bad."
DINING> Jay snaps his fingers in mock-rue. "Shucks. Guess I'll just have to try harder." Eyes narrow in surprise. "Yeah, I heard about that. Clara and I had a lovely little chat down in the Fruvous. That's quite a lady you've got there."
DINING> Uh-oh, Jay's done it... Riley sighs in an exceptionally sappy fashion. This is, after all, a man very much in love. Please, someone, find a -bat- and -hit- him. Hard. You can almost hear the little twitterpated birdie noises. "Yeah, she is exceptionally spectacular." There's a pause and an amused look, as he adds in a teasing tone, "Mine, Jeremy Adam Lasher, no drooling on her. You are entirely capable of seducing the whole rest of the building."
DINING> Kathlyn, sitting alone for a change, looks over at the mention of seducing. Radar? Yup. She offers the pair a wave, adding to Riley, "Hey, heard the good news about your sister." And, considering what it was, 'good news' is appropriate, neh?
DINING> Riley's brows lift in a puzzled fashion. He gives up and tucks the various foodage in pockets, still lingering nearish the door. "Good news?"
DINING> Jay lifts his hands in a warding-off gesture, grinning. "She's all yours. She's a goddess. I rarely rate those." A shudder involuntarily runs through him. "Yes, Mom. Ah, not the whole building. Half, maybe. I've my lim..." He trails off to blink at Kath, and turns his head to give Riley a questioning look.
DINING> And now it's Kathlyn's turn to blink. "What, she hasn't told you she's going to have a baby? Thought for sure she would." Maybe she can time it so that Jay's taking a sip of his beverage, wouldn't that be nice?
DINING> Riley ahhs, cracking open the top on his can, "No, I'd heard that, but I'm afraid it's old news. I don't get to buy sireny toys. She's not really pregnant, it was a mistake. A long story, and not mine to tell, but basically something else was making her sick and fooling the scannerage." And he really wanted to be the uncle of a messiah too, poor Riley.
DINING> Funny, Jay doesn't have the greatest appreciation for Kathlyn's timing, and probably neither does the Zaeltan at the next table who gets hit by spewed soda. "B-b-baby? Cori? No, that can't be right, she was just saying the other day she didn't..." His gaze twists from Kath to Riley, and he sags slightly in his seat in his relief. Then he frowns. "Cori's sick?"
DINING> "She's fine Jay, relax, she'll be all right." Uh-oh, and at that Riley reaches over to ruffle Jay's hair. We knew it was only a matter of time after all.
DINING> Kathlyn looks just a bit disappointed at the news. It was -gossip-, she likes gossip, even though she didn't know the full extent of the gossip. "There goes trying to figure out the father," she mutters, with a sigh. "Ah, well."
DINING> Riley is really tempted to make comments about messiahs and second comings, but really isn't sure that's an appropriate topic of discussion in the dining hall. "Kaaath, no speculating about my sister's sex life in the dining hall, or other public places. It's not very polite." Okay, proof he's not related to other fluffy haired persons in history.
DINING> Jay gives Kath a slightly exasperated look. Of course, that's when he misses the hand coming at him, and hair gets ruffled- /Riley's/ timing is good too- producing an ack and batting at said hand. "Just because you envy non-gray hair, Rile..." He reaches up to unfasten the ponytail, tweaking his hair straight again. "Of course she'll be allright. Clara's seen her?"
DINING> Kathlyn wrinkles her nose at Riley. "I'm polite? Somebody must've been telling lies about me again." She does drop the subject, though, returning Jay's exasperated look with a sweetly innocent smile. She did anything?
DINING> Uh-oh, Jay mentioned the gray hair. He -mentioned- the -gray- hair. Riley affixes a menacing, if somewhat amused look on his younger cousin. Jay is -so- doomed. Another attempt at ruffling, this one far crueler than the last, is attempted. "Yeah, Clara's seen her."
DINING> It's a conspiracy, apparently. Jay automatically returns Kath's smile with a charming grin, ducking away reflexively as his hair gets touched again. "I'm gonna start telling stories about you, Riley," he warns, snickering.
DINING> Kathlyn gets to her feet, apparently to leave the facility. "Any time you want to tell stories about the Chief," she offers to Jay, "I'm always willing to listen. They don't even have to be true." And she'll make sure everybody knows about them.
DINING> "Do it and I shave you bald, teach you to mock your elders," Riley replies, tone still lightly teasing. He just shakes his head at Kathlyn, "Aww, I thought Shan's presence had reformed yah."
DINING> Ryoshia takes this moment to unobtrusively slip past the commotion and sit down next to Jay's table.
DINING> Jay /shudders/. "Bald is a four-letter word, y'know." He glances after Kath thoughtfully. "Maybe we should get together over drinks for some story-telling time..." He glances over, giving Ryo a hesitant nod.
DINING> "You can count, dang, that education wasn't all wasted after all." Noting Jay's nod he waves to Ryoshia as well. "Just remember Jay, that for every tale you have, I have more. I, after all, remember you as a toddler." Winking he heads for the exit as well.
DINING> Oh, see, Riley mentioned -Shan-. Kathlyn pauses for a moment, expression holding equal parts frustration and amusement, and shakes her head. "I think I'm past being able to reform," she tells Riley. Casting a considering look at Jay, she says, "We'll see." And then she turns to leave, complete with hairflip.
DINING> Jay notes quietly to Riley's back, "You... are evil." Oh Kath, temptation personified. Jay's fascinated eyes focus on her form as she starts to move away. Yowzah yowzah.
DINING> "I wonder if he's mentioned his family yet," Riley murmurs softly as he heads out, snickering,
[Some time later in Clara and Riley's quarters...]
You say "Ela? It's Clara, do you have just a moment? I have a question..." Now why would she sound like a person valiantly remaining calm with panic fighting to break loose." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "Certainly, what can I help with?" in Elasia's voice.
You say "*oh so composed* How would one douse oil that's on fire? Water doesn't seem to work all that well..." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "Ack, no, water's bad. Cover it, starve the fire of oxygen." in Elasia's voice.
You say "Cover it. Mm...okay." In the faint distance after a pause is Clara's voice yelling 'Ow! Damn!' before she clears her throat and queries, "Maybe there's something I can toss on from a distance? I suppose we could just all toast marshmallows on it."" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "Are you all right? How large a fire are we talking about here?" in Elasia's voice.
You say "Oh, nothing a little calamine won't cure. Um...I'd say twelve, fifteen inches? Very cheerful indeed." Oh, yes. We knew there was a cooking disaster coming soon." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "Call maintenance. I think that sounds like a little more than you can handle. If you can safely power down the cooking unit, that will help though." in Elasia's voice.
You say "Maintenance. Power off...got it. Thanks Ela. I appreciate this." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "No problem, please, let me know when things are all right, but I'll let you have the channel to call maintenance." in Elasia's voice.
[Enough time passes for Arthur to come put out the fire and read Clara the riot act.]
You say "Ela? Just wanted to call again and say thanks. Fire's out. The wall behind the stove's going to need repainting later this week, but the fire's out. I appreciate your help." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "Oh dear. I wish I could have been more help. Goodness." in Elasia's voice.
You say "*rueful laugh* You were, actually. I think Arthur was tempted to set -me- on fire instead, but for the life of me, I guess I panicked when water didn't work." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "Are you all right? Grease fires are quite dangerous." in Elasia's voice.
You say "Oh, I'm fine. A little singed, but I've had lots worse. The wall looks far worse. Ah, well. A lesson learned. Sorry to have bothered you about this." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "Make sure to get the singed bits taken care of, I'm sure I don't have to tell you of all people about burns getting infected. Please, it is not a problem. I am glad I could help." in Elasia's voice.
You say "Aye-aye, ma'am. Actually, I'll just run a resonator over them later. It's minor. Thanks again, I appreciate it. Have a good afternoon." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "You as well." in Elasia's voice.
[Down to Medbay...]
Clara stalks into medical, looking more than slightly sheepish. Her arms are folded tightly, while the fringes of hair about her face are somewhat crisped slightly from an apparent singeing. She makes her way over to Vryce's desk and stands there a moment while waiting for him to finish whatever he may be doing.
Vryce is in the middle of losing an argument to the computer (not that he'd acknowledge losing) over the medical codes on paperwork recently filled out. Glancing up reflexively, he starts to greet the boss, only to blink. "Well done?"
Clara grimaces fitfully, glancing over her shoulder at the nurse's station, and nodding once briefly. "Got a minute? My right wrist sort of made friends with the conflagration," she explains, almost in a prison-yard whisper.
Vryce sighs heavily, pushing to his feet, and he points toward a biobed. He has no mercy. If the Chief managed to burn herself, she'll be a good example to others as to what /not/ to do. "How'd you do this?"
Hopping up on the bioscan with a definite expression of discomfiture, Clara shrugs vaguely, ignoring the surprised looks from the nurse on duty. It's not often the doctor gets to be a patient. "Trying to learn to cook. The oil caught fire...and..." She sighs and unfolds her arms to hold out a hand. "Water didn't work to put it out."
Vryce shakes his head, not bothering to use the scanner as he gently takes the hand to examine the wound. "You're supposed to smother those kinds of fires, not drown..." He looks up with a blink. "You /did/ get the fire out, didn't you?"
One of Clara's brows quirks wryly as she nods, then watches the examination impassively. "It's out," she agrees vaguely. "It's not like I was going to let my quarters be reduced to ashes while I came down to get a little scrape-up treated."
Vryce hmphs softly, holding the hand as he speaks quietly to the nurse for a burn tray. "Do you want a painkiller?" he asks as an afterthought. Professional courtesy will get you that much.
Clara's brows furrow as she peers at the burn again. "Whatever for? Just slap some calamine on it and I'll be fine, right?" Gee, I'll bet no one knew that Elise was synonymous with Stubborn.
Vryce shrugs dubiously. "Alright then." He reaches for a bubbly anti-infectant, spraying it over the burn, keeping a tight hold on Clara's hand as he does so, anticipating a reaction.
And a reaction he gets, in the form of Clara attempting unsuccessfully to jerk her arm back and hissing in a gasp, eyes widening as she pales slightly. "Okay," she finally says after a moment of holding her breath. "A local would be nice, yeah."
Vryce doesn't quite smirk as he exchanges the spray for a hypo, swiftly administering the latter. "It'll take a few seconds to kick in," he mutters absently.
Clara grimaces vaguely, all but radiating pain-laced irritation as she rolls her eyes. "Yes, I realize that," she replies as calmly as possible. "Just get it patched so I can get home and get the wall fixed."
Vryce mumbles something about doctors being the worst patients and reaches for cotton to clean out the burn. "In a hurry? Don't get burned next time."
Clara forces her expression to neutral by closing her eyes, lips pursing. "I'll do my best," she answers through clenched teeth. "Don't we have any sterisilk? The cotton's removing bits, I'm pretty sure."
"I /like/ cotton," Vryce mutters, continuing mildly, "Feel free to treat yourself, doctor, if you wish..."
Clara opens one eye a fraction, balefully green. "I'm right handed, Vryce, or I would have. But I do appreciate your suggestion. And your effort." And no, she's not planning to remove all the cotton in Medbay. She stifles a yelp, the other eye opening as well. "Ow."
Vryce reaches over absently for the hypo again, adjusting the dosage before injecting just a bit more anesthetic, and goes back to cleaning out the burn. "Just a little bit left..." He glances up to eye his patient for a moment before his gaze returns to the work. "Well, one out of 2,853 isn't bad."
Clara exhales a patently relieved sigh as the additional painkiller kicks in, leaning back slightly to rest her weight on her left hand behind herself. She bites her lower lip as a bit gets cleaned that she can still feel, asking, "One out of...why the odds? What isn't bad?"
Vryce just shakes his head silently. After a couple more minutes cleaning, he tosses the cotton to the burn tray and lifts the prepared bandage to fasten it firmly in place. "This'll need changing twice daily."
Clara smothers a groan with a sigh, wrinkling her nose at the bandaging process. "-Twice-? C'mon, it's not that bad, really. Just resonate it and it won't even need a bandage."
Vryce clears his throat, fixing her with a severe look. "Major, you have a second-degree burn bordering on third. You got very lucky. Now is not the time to whine." He tosses a package of bandages in her direction, advising, "Teach the Admiral how to change them. Make it into something fun."
Hello, splutter. "Addison? Change a bandage? On -me-? No -way-..." Clara exclaims, distracted enough to stop protesting the bandaging. "In fact, do me a favor? Make sure the med report on this gets kept out of his dailies? The last thing he needs right now is to know I set his kitchen on fire."
Vryce blinks at Clara in shock. He may be a pain in the anatomy of your choice; he's also rigid. "You know I can't do that! He'd... he'd inflict furry midgets on me. Besides, he's going to find out soon enough."
Clara grumbles something unintelligible, then nods once. "I know you can't. Can't blame a girl for wishful thinking." She glares at the bandage for a moment. "What's your best guess? Three days until it can be resonated?"
Vryce shakes his head, still looking rattled. "Two, if you don't abuse it."
Clara nods with resigned relief. "Two. Fine. We have -got- to get another doctor on staff," she mutters, shaking her head. "Three of us is a pain if one goes down. Which I'm not, by the way. Jones is in for you in a few hours?"
Vryce nods with a shrug. "Yes. Why?"
Clara shakes her head, peering at the bandage again. "No reason in particular. Just keeping track of scheduling, is all. All done?"
Vryce nods, gesturing toward the door. "Yes." He turns away to return to his desk, glancing once over his shoulder. "Hey Chief? Do me a favor- no cooking in here, eh?"
Clara slips off the bioscan, giving her hand a rather irritated look before glancing up at the address, then smirking. "You're sure? No fun at all, Vryce. I was going to make cherries flambe down here on my next shift," she supplies rather sweetly, then ducks into her office for her yellow jacket before making an escape.
Vryce just shudders, sitting to type up the report.
[Over to Security...]
Niko shakes his head at that. "It's not going to be all that fancy, though," he says. "Not a lot of planning." He waves in Clara's general direction, half his attention still on his work.
Kyara glances up to give the doctor a cheerful wave. "Hey there, Clara..." She pauses to peer. "What'd you do to yourself? Nick, Clara's hurt."
Clara makes her way in, bright yellow jacket completely squashing every effort she's making to be discreet, hands stuffed firmly into her pockets. At the wave, she smiles wistfully and returns a nod. "Evening, folks." She blinks at Kya, shaking her head quickly and turning it into an innocent smile. "I'm fine."
Niko looks over with a blink. "Y'okay? What's wrong?" He pauses a beat. "Does this mean I can call -you- an animal, too, like a duck or something?"
Kyara rolls her eyes at Nick. "Even with the puns, she's not tape-able." She wags a finger at Clara. "I know that look. It's the one I used to use. What'd you do?"
Clara can't help but grin at that, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "No, you can't call me animal names. That's just fishing for trouble," she intones, then wrinkles her nose. "Uh, nothing?"
Niko mumbles something about being good at fishing, then shakes his head. "Nothing, yeah right. But if you don't want to tell us," he says, with an air of martyrdom that's most definitely feigned, "Your friends, who are concerned, then don't."
Kyara puts on her best fake mournful puppy-dog look, gazing at Clara. *sniffle*
Clara glances off to one side, hugging her jacket a bit more tightly closed about herself in utter sheepishness, and mutters something about setting the kitchen on fire.
Niko shakes his head. "Burn yourself?" Then he blinks. "Uh, Clara? You weren't having a cooking lesson when you did that?" Or, in other words, was the kitchen that was set on fire the one in which Ela is often found.
Kyara blinks, and eeps. "You going to be okay?" Her eyes jerk toward the office. "Does /he/ know?"
Clara pulls her hand out of her pocket for just a moment to show the bandage before stuffing it back in and shrugs, still pretty embarrassed. "No, I was at home," she offers to Niko. "I did comm Ela to find out what to do though." She winces at Kya's question, peering at the door o' doom guiltily. "Uh...no."
Niko inquires, tone not absent despite the fact that, because he wants to get home, he's typing again, "Going to tell him, or does he get to read about it?"
Kyara winces, reaching for her soda rather than her keyboard again. "Better hurry," she advises.
Despite the fact that it looks like Clara would -very- much rather not, she nods with trepidation. "Better than having him walk in tonight and wonder what happened. Hurry? Why? What's wrong?"
Kyara shakes her head quickly. "Nothing's wrong. Longer ya wait, though, worse it'll be."
Niko nods his agreement. "Might as well get it over with, yeah," he advises.
Clara ahs softly and considers then, then squares her shoulders and nods once with determination before marching over to tap at the door with her left hand."
>>OOC: Niko says "Forget this red to green stuff, I want to see a paisley light. ;)"
Kyara wtches her for a moment, and goes back to work with a shake of her head.
>>OOC: Kyara laughs!
>>OOC: Clara snickers!
Niko calls, glancing up from his work for a moment, "Good luck."
Okay, so the light can't do paisley. Feeling inadequate it merely glows a dim green.
>>OOC: Niko says "Awwww. Poor light."
You walk towards the Chief Addison's Office.
Riley has obviously replaced the danged evil chairs finally, and is up to his shoulderage in forms. Realizing who's coming in he beams, "Hey love, I was just..." He blinks at the bandaged hand, "Are you all right?"
Clara lets herself in and attempts to repocket her hands, but not quickly enough, and winces slightly before coming forward rather solemnly, not bothering to sit. "I set the kitchen on fire," she says as if reporting, without preamble.
Riley clambers up from his seat, coming over to you. Carefully he attempts to steer you to the couch, "Are you okay?"
Clara blinks at the rather unexpected reaction, taken enough by surprise to allow herself to be steered passively. "I...I'm fine, yes. But...the wall has to be repainted. And one pan is dead. Really dead." She grimaces and drops her eyes. "I am sorry."
Riley sinks down next to you on the couch, shaking his head, "Clara, love, what is there to apologize for? As long as you're okay... You are okay, right?"
"Riley..." Clara begins, baffled beyond reason as she pulls a hand out of her pocket to gesture at the ceiling, "didn't you understand? I set your kitchen on -fire-. Arthur had to come put it out, and he is -not- happy with me."
"It is not -my- kitchen," Riley explains amiably, "It is -our- kitchen. And if setting it on fire is the worst thing that ever happens to it, it should consider itself lucky. Arthur is -never- happy. If he were, the world would end."
Clara drops her hands to her lap, completely broadsided at this as she stares at you, perplexed. "You're not angry, then? Really? Are you sure?"
Riley blinks several more times, "Clara, love, of course I'm not angry. Whyever should I be?"
Clara lets out a gust of breath, eyes wide with surprise as she shakes her head slowly, then offers rather sheepishly, "Because I think this may have been one of the stupidest things I've ever done. Never use water to put out an oil fire," she adds seriously.
Riley acks in a rather startled fashion, "No, don't, that's a bad thing. You have to smother them. You were cooking then?"
Clara makes a face and sinks back into the couch, half propped against you as she pushes back crisp-fringed curls with her left hand. "I don't think you can call it that. I was trying. I don't think the wall behind the stove appreciated it."
Riley shifts an arm carefully around you, "It may have well not, but hey, it will forgive you, or I will have to poke it until it does." He offers an attempt at looking menacing.
Clara stares up at you in astonishment for a moment before bursting into relieved laughter and resting her head on your shoulder. "My knight in shining armor. I can't believe this. I was mortified to come in here and tell you this."
Riley leans forward enough from the couch to snag a folder from his desk which he settles back and offers to you, "Love, would you be angry if I set the kitchen on fire?"
Clara starts to take the folder with her right hand and a puzzled look, then switches to her left. "Of course not. I'd be worried that you'd been hurt, but...ah. Okay, I get it," she allows wistfully. "I love you, too. What's this?" she asks, leafing the folder open.
"A half dozen resumes of doctors, you get to pick one," Riley explains with an almost smug grin. He doesn't comment to the first, figuring he's made his point. "And I love you too."
Clara lets out another yelp, this time entirely of triumph, and this earns you a doctor on the lap, heedless of your uniform, and grinning broadly. Of course, it also earns an attempted kiss. "How'd you do it? Who'd you have to threaten? They were -still- giving me the run around just this morning!"
Riley is more than welcome to return the kiss, obviously not minding a lapful of doctor, uniform or no. He wraps his arms gently around you. "It all but fell into my lap, if you'll pardon the joke. I was headed down to discuss it, when I ran into the individual I intended to meet with discussing with a friend how many unpaid citations he had. Funny, when he realized I was in the elevator as well, he was in a really -helpful- mood."
Clara dissolves into laughter, thoroughly pleased with the circumstances and the result. "Talk about grabbing the bureaucrat by the horns! Oh, love, I don't know how to thank you. This is the best news I've had all day!"
Riley chuckles softly, looking perhaps a bit sheepish. "I wish I could take credit, but as I said, it was an accident."
Clara waves the folder and gives you a sage grin, shaking her head and stealing another kiss. "Accident, schmaccident. It was your superlative moral fiber, stunning good looks, phenomenal intelligence, and being a big ol' mean Security goon. Thank you, darling."
Riley laughs quietly, although he is game to return the kiss. "I'm glad my goondom was finally of use."
Clara edges off to one side to stop squishing you, and flips open to folder to leaf through the resumes. "Some good people in here. Mostly AF...Vryce'll -love- that," she notes, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Riley half leans over to regard the pages offhandedly, "Hey, if it annoys Vryce, I'm all for it. He's not my favorite person." Hello? Understatement?
"Nor mine at the moment," Clara agrees, shifting the folder slightly sideways to make the pages easier for you to see. "He cleaned up my hand for me. And used cotton. I need to remember to deep-six all the cotton in Medbay tomorrow," she vows.
Uh-oh, Vryce had better run quickly. Riley's tone is low and cold, "He hurt you?"
Clara glances sideways up at you with widened eyes, then leans in to brush a kiss at your cheek, assuring gently, "No, love. -I- hurt me, and he patched me up. Not his fault I told him no anesthetic at first."
"But he used something he shouldn't've?" Riley is just itching for an excuse to sock Vryce, see.
"Aaah, that's sort of hard to answer? I usually use synthsilk to clean burns, since it doesn't tug at the skin," Clara explains cautiously. "Some doctors prefer to use cotton gauze."
"Ah-ha..." Riley is looking thoughtful. Oh no, the goon is thinking, run away! Run away!
Clara reaches a hand up to tap at your curls, one brow lifting suspiciously. "What's running through that be-fluffed head of yours, Riley Addison?"
"That Vryce'd better watch his back," Riley answers honestly enough.
"What for?" Clara asks, laughing slightly. "Love, I know you don't care for him, but he really is an effective physician." She says nothing about being a good one, though.
"He's -evil-," See, Riley's still not forgotten the whole post pyramid affair, and now Vryce has been evil unto Clara. "Vicious and -evil-."
"And that's why he's not your doctor," Clara replies logically enough, a hand lifting to your face gently, despite that it's bandage covered. "So he can't be evil to you. He does know how to heal people, though."
"He's been evil to me -before-. And if he's evil to -you-..." Okay, so it's a bit childish, Riley -really- dislike the man however.
"And if you break him, I'm down to two just me and Jones running Medbay, each pulling a twelve hour shift daily with no time off," Clara responds, slightly amused. "I shall be muchly put out if you break one of my doctors."
"I could find you another one," Riley offers gamely, not disputing that he'd like to break Vryce.
"You can find me an internist with a double-back in endocrionology?" Clara teases, by now grinning. "Come on, Greg," she wheedles, voice softening. "Wouldn't it just be easier to nurse -this- doctor back to health than to break one of the others?"
Sigh. And it would have been so -cathartic- to break Vryce. "If I knew what a double-back in endocrionology -was-..." Riley trails off.
Clara laughs again and reaches up to venture a final kiss of concerted effort before rising carefully and scooping up the folder. "Someone who knows about endocrinology, of course." (Read, her player hasn't a clue, and just likes the word.) "Now, I'll let you get back to work, oh wondrous man, and I'll go home and clean up as much of the mess as I can."
Riley shakes his head at that, "Go home and relax some. Don't worry about the mess. Not much you can do about scorching anyhow. We'll just throw some paint over it."
"Can't throw paint over the powder mess they used to put the fire out, though. Don't worry, it'll be neat as a pin by the time you get home tonight. Arthur's sending someone up later this week to repaint that wall. Don't work to hard," she adds as a final admonishment with an adoring smile, then heads for the door.
"Cla-ra," Riley admonishes as you head out, "Relax, don't clean. For Peesh's sake..."
Clara pauses at the door with a final smile of supreme, lash fluttering innocence, blows a kiss, and lets herself out the door.
Kyara glances up with a questioning smile over a growing pile of paperwork. "How'd it go?"
Clara comes out of the office, a folder in her left hand, and snickering as if she'd gotten away with something. "He's not angry," she offers brightly. "But I do need to get up there and clean up the mess I made. Have a good evening, okay?"
Kyara brightens, giving a cheery wave. "You too. Have fun."
Clara grins again and waves the folder before making her way out towards the elevator.