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This scene opens up in Clara's quarters. She'd just received and shown Riley a letter earlier that day giving her official orders to report to a Fleet transport in two days to be transferred to Outpost Seven in the Regulus system, a null-gee medical research facility, for a three year tour of duty.
Clara's eyes flicker open against the dim light, as if not quite certain where she is. She peers up at the rabbit hiding half under a pillow, reaching up hand to pat it absently, still not particularly aware.
Riley is leaning against the bed, seated on the floor. The paperwork is gone, so he's left at some point, but he's still in his uniform. Hello and welcome to staring off into space.
Clara peers up at the ceiling again, several thoughts occurring to her at once, and the primary one eliciting a soft intake of breath as she sits straight up as if from a nightmare. Her eyes canvas the room rapidly before landing on you. "Riley?"
Riley startles quite obviously at the noise and the use of his name, he was not quite altogether here before, and hence is surprised. He wheels about to his knees, arms on the bed. "Yes, love?"
Clara starts an attempt at a several things to say, then finally lights up upon the innocuous, "How did I get up here?" One hand lifts to her hair, half straggled from the pins, in puzzlement.
Riley clambers up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged. He is without his boots. "Um, I put you there."
Clara gives up the effort of pushing her hair back into the pins and rubs at one eye in a childlike motion before holding a hand out. "I fell asleep? I don't remember..." she admits, still a bit sleep-dazed.
"Sleep's a good thing, very good for you indeed." Riley is still looking a bit dazed himself, although not from sleep, but from the earlier news. "You needed the sleep."
Clara sighs faintly and pulls her hand back to rub at her eyes again. "It wasn't a nightmare, was it? I'd really like to pretend it is, but I don't think I can."
Riley shakes his head soundlessly, as if unable to say the words, to admit to the situation. The sheer lost look in his eyes sums it better than words ever could anyhow.
"You didn't find anything out?" The question is neither surprised nor hopeful, and Clara closes her eyes to hide the shadowed brown faded of green a moment before reaching out in the attempt to snare one of your hands.
Riley is quick to take the proffered hand into his own, interlocking his fingers with yours. "No, not a thing," his words are confused as well as lost, "Not so much as a peep. I got told rather politely off, and then less politely, and then ignored when I tried to contest it."
"I tried to put a call through to Medical HQ before I ever told you, and got red taped into oblivion." Clara pulls the hand up to her face, rubbing her cheek against the back of it lightly. "What are we going to do?"
Riley edges closer to you, reaching out his other arm hesitantly, as if to wrap it around you. "I honestly don't know Clara. I tried every avenue I could think to try, there's -got- to be something I'm missing..."
Clara isn't objecting, and scoots closer lean forward and rest her forehead on your shoulder. "Outpost seven..." She shudders faintly. "I'd rather go back to Golman than to research," she murmurs forlornly. "But I can't AWOL again, either."
Riley wraps his arms around you with decided alacrity, as if to make up for all the time to be lost. "Of all the places to send you... As talented as you are, and to go someplace that doesn't take best advantage of that..."
"I'm not even Navy," is Clara's response, each word echoing like a lost kitten. "I don't have nearly as many null-gee hours as a Naval physician...-this- is what I was trained to do." She waves a hand at the door before curling back in against your chest. "Did you find out who issued the orders?"
Riley shakes his head as slowly as before, tugging up the blanket and pulling it tentlike around you both. "Not even so much as a peep. It's shut down hard and tight, especially to my codes it seems."
Clara makes a slightly strangled sound, breathing shallowly as her fingers lock on to your jacket. "And I don't have the rank to pull off a search...and it's too late to file an appeal, and Conley's not talking, and Jensen's off duty, and..." Her tone grows more and more panic-stricken before she calms herself forcibly. "Do we have to stay here tonight?"
Riley shakes his head to that, not bothering to question, still too stunned. "No we don't, where would you like to go a'trezla?"
Clara manages a slightly flat laugh. "Think the Bonded at Otaku might hide me?" She shakes her head, pulling away enough to peer up at you. "I don't know...the roof, outside, even Underground. I just don't want to go to bed yet and end this day."
"Let's go to the roof then," Riley nuzzles down close. "I don't think we really want to deal with the Underground at this time of the week. And the view of the city's lovely, and there are blankets and such."
Clara nods rather complacently, in no frame of mind to do more than follow a lead. "Let me change out of uniform? I...I don't want to think about duty right now," she explains, clinging for a moment to snuggle close, then pulling away to clamber off the bed and head for the closet for jeans and a sweater.
Riley remains seated on the bed, legs tugged tailor fashion as you do so. "Anything you want love."
Clara vanishes into the necessary for a few moments, then returns in jeans and a sweater, hair freed the rest of the way from the pins. She holds out a hand to you, blinking owlishly. "We can stay together tonight, can't we?"
Riley clambers to his feet, accepting the hand. He nods emphatically, "Yes, just you and me. Lemme turn off my comm..."
Clara leans in for a moment, then half smiles and brings her comm to her hand in yours, using one finger to tab at it. "Good idea," she agrees wistfully. "Does Anya know yet?"
Riley tabs off his comm unit, squeezing your hand. He shakes his head, "I didn't tell her, didn't tell anybody, like you said."
Clara heads for the door, shaking her head with a sad smile. "Oh, darling...what I'd meant was, I don't want anyone else to worry. Anya might need to know, if only for your sake. I'll call a meeting with Jones and Kramer in the morning," she adds, voice lowering as she switches off the light and heads out the door.
Riley lifts his shoulders slightly, following along afterwards. "I was somewhat distracted, it did not occur to me to inform her."
Clara shrugs vaguely, making her way slowly to the elevator. "I think I understand," she remarks in quiet agreement, tapping at the call button. "Distracted...me too."
[travel spam snipped]
Added to the room's decor are a number of low flat blue pillows, and a couple of folded blankets. Riley edges in carefully, the low ceiling causing some effort to be required. "Best view in the whole place...I swear, if I could stay here all the time..."
Clara settles on her knees at the front of the small area, just staring out at the city as she nods in agreement. "Everything's peaceful up here. I remember the last time you brought me up here...you apologized the next day because you'd pulled me in before falling asleep."
Riley tugs one of the low pillows, the really big kind, over to rest folded arms on it and regard the city below. "Yeah, I felt guilty, although I'd enjoyed being curled up with you altogether too much."
Clara glances down at you sidelong with a look of exceedingly wistful fondness, resting a hand lightly on your shoulder. "I was thrilled," she admits softly. "You're far too charming for your own good."
Riley stretches his legs back the full width of the hideout, eyes trained out onto the cityscape. "I don't know about that. But it was a wonderful evening, wonderful indeed."
Clara returns her gaze to the stars above pensively, picking out constellations mentally. "Wrong season to see Regulus Prime," she notes absently. "I suppose maybe in the summer..." Obviously nattering, she still seems fairly lost.
Riley edges his pillow and himself closer to you, shifting up close enough to be touching. "The stars are trickier to see from here, all the lights. And they're nothing like they are from space, the one thing I do miss."
Clara nods vaguely, still staring upwards although her hand slips to your back to rub in slow circles. "I remember that. I remember my first shuttle trip...I was terrified, dizzy, nearly sick...but I couldn't pull myself from the portal. It's amazing."
Riley murmurs a soft sound at your hand to his back. "Ships and stations and outposts have their upsides. The view, a sense of being part of something, pleasantly cozy... Always either going someplace new, or having new ships turn up..."
Clara looks away from the sky and off to one side before shifting around to tug off her boots then scoot down onto one side beside you. "Someday we'll go sailing. You'd be surprised how much is the same, except with an atmosphere, you get wind."
Riley rummages over to pull up a blanket, moving to share the large pillow and tug the blanket over. "Wind is something to be said for planets. Wind, and weather, and wide open spaces..."
"I guess there's always something good about wherever you end up," Clara decides thoughtfully, shifting onto the pillow while still lying on her side, propped up on one elbow. "Which do prefer? Space or dirtside?"
Riley shifts down to lie flat on the pillow, head resting to one side on crossed arms. "I couldn't say to be honest. I love planets, and this planet in particular. But I was bred to the Navy, spacer inside and out."
Clara's lips quirk in a hint of smile as she reaches over to brush her fingers through chocolate brown curls. "And I was bred to be a socialite or in government. Still, I can't say I'm sorry you're planetside. Meeting you had to be the high point of my life."
Riley's eyes sink shut a moment, and he has to take a moment to regain composure nearly lost. "I'm hardly about to object to having been planetside... The luck in full force for once to have met you. Three years..."
Clara inhales a slow breath, fingers faltering in your hair for a moment. "And sixty-three light years," she adds not really seeing a way to mitigate it. "But I'll blast HQ for three years running if I have to for reassignment here when it's done."
"Same here," Riley says softly, his words barely loud enough to carry. "Every single day. It worked on Terra."
Clara folds her arm down to rest her head on it, watching you intently. "Do you think it would have been easier if I'd never been assigned to Linnae in the first place?"
Riley there's a decidedly strangled noise at that and Riley forces himself half up in startlement, "No love, never." He looks decidedly worried. "No, please, don't say that...Even if it weren't just three years, even if it were forever... I wouldn't want to have lived any one moment less with you. Every minute has been precious and wonderful. To have gone my whole life never realizing that there was one person out there as like unto me as to be a part of me, to have never known the face of my lifemate..."
"To never know the feeling of a soul shared in synthesis," Clara murmurs in somewhat pained agreement, although she reaches up to pull you back down to her. "But we have that. For the rest of our lives, we have that memory if nothing else. But we'll have more," she offers fervently. "I know it."
Riley shifts back down, moving to curl in close. He's shivering lightly. "We will, there's still the Luck, the Luck requires faith."
Clara wraps her arms about you as well as she can given the size differential, nuzzling at your hair. "I don't know about luck, but I do know faith. We couldn't have been brought together just now to be pulled apart. And there's letters...subspace...vacations."
Riley snuggles into your embrace, returning it. "And the comm and all... We can manage, we have to."
"Love is patient," Clara agrees softly, rubbing her cheek against a few curls. "We've both endured far worse. Especially you...but...don't let go of me tonight?"
Riley's arms lock all the more tightly around you. "I won't, I don't think I could. I need to hold onto you. I wish I could hold on forever."
Clara rests her lips at your forehead for a moment, not quite in a kiss, but not exactly a nuzzle either...just being close. "You will, with your heart," she murmurs, scooting down just enough to rest her forehead against yours instead. "If you close your eyes and concentrate on what it feels like to have me in your arms, it's almost like it's real."
There's another long moment while Riley struggles to hold onto his composure, managing by some act of will to do so. "I swear, if I ever find out who's done this, there will be such an accounting of Balance..."
Clara frees a hand to rest her fingers on your lips, interrupting the oath. "No. Think, love...if I understand you right, our melant'i is irrevocably joined. If you anger someone and possibly get in trouble or get hurt, I may not feel it directly, but so close as to make no difference. Just...stay safe and remember your original loyalty...to the Fleet, above and beyond all else."
"Balance is as important a part of mela..." Riley trails off, chopping off the sentiment. He sighs softly, "It is of no import I suppose, I just... it does not seem to be a correct thing, for you to have to go from where you are loved and have a position of use."
"Balance...but not retribution," Clara urges gently, venturing a light kiss. Her brow furrows then in troubled expression as she exhales a long sigh. "I can't understand that either," she murmurs. "All I can think is that this is on purpose. There's just no logical reason to reassign me there as a researcher. Maybe for training...but CMOs don't get sent off like this for training."
Riley returns the kiss with care and a wistful gentility. "Balance is not retribution. It is the proper settling of accounts, I promise I am well enough past halfling years to know the difference in kind." There's another pause, "It reeks of revenge love, of one who still attempts to settle accounts like a pup, speaking of the concept."
Clara can't help but smile, curving her fingers to brush the backs of them along your jaw. "I didn't mean to imply you didn't, darling. And if this is being done from revenge, we stay above it, and perform our duty as assigned. And when it's over, I'll come back to you."
"When it's over," Riley echoes softly, already fastening onto those words like a talisman. "Not forever, it isn't forever, it can be counted down..."
"I can make you an advent calendar? With pieces of chocolate hidden in it for every day?" Clara teases gently. "One -big- calendar. And when I come home, you can cook dinner for me, I'll do the dishes, and life will go back to normal. And right. So very, very right..." Clara's words break off into near silence broken only by ragged breathing muffled at your jacket shoulder.
Riley can't quite stifle a desperate chuckle at the mention of an advent calendar. "Clara, love, you know me... How would I manage to keep chocolate? I'd be skipping days ahead, all in innocence of course. Really. Honest." He holds you all the closer, his face resting against your hair. "I will fight this. Every day. Eventually they will have to get tired of me, they always do, and will let you come home."
"And this is home..." The words seem to be an astonshed, if muffled, realization for Clara as her arms tighten about your waist. "No...that's not it. Wherever you are is home. I would live in a shuttle if it meant being with you. But...can you fight the Fleet? What if this is a legitimate transfer?"
"Clara, the Fleet can be fought. This -isn't- a legitimate action. Here your skills are sorely in demand." Riley edges the blanket around a bit better, as well as curling in close to you. "Ignore our relationship in the equation, is there any real logic to this?"
"No," Clara admits reluctantly, just now starting to realize the ideal of the Fleet she'd held for so many years isn't quite as pristine as she'd thought. "No, there isn't. Not as a researcher, because I'm not. I'm a surgeon. If it were back to Golman, I'd understand. This...this is ludicrous."
Riley nods slowly, bringing up a hand to rub at the muscles along your shoulder blades. "I am afraid that politics is a nasty business indeed. But it is a game I know some of the rules to, I can certainly try to manage something."
Clara lifts her eyes to the stars overhead once more with a troubled expression, then buries her face in your chest again. "I trust you. Do what you think is necessary. If I come home all the sooner, then better." She relaxes just a bit against you at the rubbing, then notes with wistful amusement, "I'm going to wake up with your rank imprinted on my forehead."
Riley looks rather sheepish, but shifts back to fumble the jacket off. "My name maybe, no rank tabs though. Gave up on em. Just looks silly." The uniform top is discarded with a wince, and he curls back in, the orange t-shirt beneath it perhaps no less offensive.
Clara can't help but laugh, pulling you back in as if eager to resume the warmth and reassuance of closeness. "Well, it's one of the more unique ways to get a woman to take your name," she teases. "I don't blame you, though. My rank stays hidden under my coat. It was nearly two months Rhys was calling me Captain before I finally let him in the news."
Riley chuckles softly, more than willing to curl up around you beneath the solace of the stars and the warmth of the thick blanket. "I carry my stars in my pocket sometimes, and my ID and all, but usually I just try and avoid it." There's a chuckle, "That's evil, but amusing, love."
"I'm an evil medical wench, remember?" Clara reminds in her most overly innocent tones. "It's my job to torture folk. I took special classes on it in school." Nuzzling in at your neck, she notes quietly, "I try not to be too evil to you, though."
"You're not, you're wonderful to me. The most wonderful person I've ever had chance to meet." Riley sighs quietly, half relaxing around you. "Special classes. All kinds of special classes, in being lovely, and patient, and sweet, and funny, and brilliant..."
Clara hmpfs softly, although it's evident she's please. Good gracious, what woman wouldn't be? "Oh, you've got it -bad-," she decides, but rewards the litany with a gentle kiss. "Don't forget a hair-trigger temper, a tendancy towards illogic, horrible puns, and arrogant. How I was fortunate enough that you could love me..."
Riley does not seem to object to the kiss or the decision. "Very badly," he agrees quietly. "You are my a'trezla, how could I not?" He chuckles softly, "I do not know if fortune is involved. It is simply the Luck. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, always requiring faith."
"Faith I can manage," Clara assures rather solemnly, lifting a hand to your face. "Perhaps not what you're familiar with, but faith, nonetheless. Whatever happens will all happen towards a purpose...a goal. And everything works out satisfactorily in the end, whether or not we understand the process of getting there."
Riley offers you a bright grin, "That's the Luck, yes. Different title you may have, but the concept is there. Neatly summed up no less."
The grin is infectious, and gets returned by a rather wistful one of Clara's own. "The more I learn about you, the more amazed I am at the new ideas that may not be so new. And the ones that are entirely novel. And it makes me love you all the more."
Riley's grin however is stolen by a yawn, albeit a quickly stifled one. "The more things change, the more they remain the same. Kashid is after all a colony world, and carried with it the seeds of Terran memes and thought constructs."
"But oh-dark-hundred is not the time to discuss philosophy," Clara chides gently, then ventures a kiss to remove the sting from her words. "But it is the time when we can fall asleep together. Can we stay here?" she asks with quiet hope.
"We surely can." Riley shifts one foot to slide a carefully constructed bolt into place. "Made that a bit back. Just in case somebody does stumble on the panel. No being disturbed."
Clara glances back, brows lifting with quietly approving delight before she cuddles all the closer, letting her eyes fall shut. "My engineer," she murmurs. "Fixes everything, even doctors. Could stay like this with you forever."
Riley tugs another blanket over, making a cozy nest beneath the stars and amongst the pillows. "One of these days, it will be forever."
Clara opens her eyes for one final glance at those stars, then burrows back in, tightening her arms about your waist. "Even now, I will be with you when I've gone," she assures, accent already deepening as shock reclaims its symptoms in sleep.
Riley tucks himself around you, arms locked protectively. "Sleep well, dearest."
Clara exhales a long sigh of murmured protest at the thought of sleep, but still is helpless against it. "Dream sweet, my love," she replies, the words dragging out slowly despite the lack of slurring. And then, as if someone had disconnected a power supply, she simply wilts against you, fairly well unconscious.
Riley carefully tucks in the blanket edges, his own movements fumbling and tired, before he settles down to watch the stars a while.