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Your communit crackles to life and announces "Um, Clara? It's Kya..." in Kyara's voice.
You say "Hmm? Evening, Kya. What's up?" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "*sigh of relief* Riley's acting weird." in Kyara's voice.
You say "Well, yes, that doesn't surprise me. He's had a hell of a week." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "*long pause* Yes, well... I'm sorry. Just a bit worried is all. Sorry to have bothered you." in Kyara's voice.
You say "No, no. You're not bothering me, Kya. I'm worried too, but I'm not the man's mother. If I pester him nonstop...well, that'd be a bad thing. How's it for you?" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "Oh, I'm just fine! It's good to be home, even if it does mean Herculean tasks of penance. And Niko's being /nice/ to me. If he's faking it, he's faking it well." in Kyara's voice.
You say "*chuckle* Things are a little smoother now, I think. There's a lot of work still to do, but if he hasn't killed you yet, he's not likely to." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "Yeah... *yawn* Hey, I'll talk to you later? It's been one heck of a day. I'm more tired than him, I swear." in Kyara's voice.
You say "Sacktime, private. Crash out. Night." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "*chuckle* G'night." in Kyara's voice.
You say "Hey you, it's Clara. Just calling to tell you goodnight. Feeling any better?" into the communit. [To Riley]
Your communit crackles to life and says "Hmm? Yeah. I was munching on chocolate bars and watching the idiot box until Kya showed up and pointed out she'd doctored those as well. I've resorted to just watching said box. Old movies and all." in Riley's voice.
You say "Very satisfactory. Good way to kick back and relax. G'night." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "Is everything okay on your end? *a hair of worry creeping into his tone*" in Riley's voice.
You say "*amusement* Why wouldn't it be, silly? Nah, Is it so bad that I call just to say hi?" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "Nah, I love to hear from you at any time. You just sounded... I dunno. Guess I'm paranoid. Want company or anything?" in Riley's voice.
You say "In reference to number one, I'm fine, just a little zoned from staring at codon patterns. For question two, that depends on who the company is. Seriously, love, I didn't call to interrupt. If you're enjoying yourself, I want you to stay right where you are." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "The company'd be me, since I don't think you want me sending Denner to explain his newest theory to ya'. And I'd enjoy being there too. I was just abusing the monitor in my office to watch really horrible old flatscreen films because the one in my room's about five by eight inches. Abuse of power and all that, but hey. But I've seen them all a lot before." in Riley's voice.
You say "*snicker* I most assuredly don't want to discuss theory with Denner, as sweet as he is. Of course you're welcome up here. But I have to warn you, my vidscreen's no bigger than the one in your quarters." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "*chuckle* That's okay, I wouldn't come invade your place with bad movies anyhow." in Riley's voice.
You say "Gee, how kind of you. And precisely what would you invade with, mister?" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "Umm, I have soda and sandwiches if you like? Or just me? I can bring a penguin?" in Riley's voice.
You say "If you're hungry, go ahead. I've already eaten. And your penguins are always welcome, dear. As long as they don't teach my rabbit bad habits." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "*snicker* See you in a bit then." in Riley's voice.
There's a quiet knock on the door.
Riley enters from the Elevator Lounge.
For a moment, it seems as if the room is uninhabited. And then, after a moment of quiet, Clara appears from the closet just in time to lower her clasped hands to point a rather oddish looking gun at you and fire. Sploosh. A water gun. At least it's only water and not bad perfume. "Hi, there!" she greets brightly at the same time.
Riley wanders in with a penguin under one arm and a rose in the other hand. Spotting the gun, rather edgy reflexes cause him to dodge to one side. He's had a bad week however and is caught on the right side with the spray of water. Acking melodramatically he drops to the ground, losing the penguin in the process but holding onto the rose, "Alas, I am kill-ed." He ends up flat, arms crossed over his chest with the rose beneath them, corpse with a lily style.
Clara snickers and tucks the gun in the back of her waistband and pads over to drop to her knees beside you. "You're not dead," she notes calmly, eyeing the rose for a moment, but not jumping to conclusions. "You're sweet, but not enough to melt."
Riley opens one eye. Judging that you're not buying it, he grins, sitting up and offering the long stemmed flower. "I love you," he says with quietly simple sincerity, the words almost ringing with emotion. He sort of spoils the effect however by adding, "Even if you didn't kill me."
Clara isn't buying it indeed, but is just kneeling there smirking until you sit up. Jaw dropping slightly at the offering and statement, she accepts both gingerly before her face almost literally lights up. "Oh, I love you," she counters with awe. "Thank you. And no, no I didn't kill you. Be kind of silly at this point."
Riley chuckles quietly, pushing himself lightly to his feet. Scooping up the penguin he offers you a hand up. "Not to mention then you'd have to find something to do with my body. I don't think I'd fit down the laundry shaft, although it would be fitting for me to annoy the laundry staff as much in death as I do in life."
Clara dissolves into laughter, but accepts the hand up with the one not holding he rose. "Hey, I'm a doctor. I can always use your carcass for my mad scientist experiments. Just how much lightening does Linnae get anyway?" she asks teasingly, squeezing your hand as she sniffs at the flower. "It's lovely. What's it for?"
Riley releases the hand so he can swiftly tuck the penguin beneath the back of his jacket and hunch forward, a la Igor, "Jyeeesss Master, I go to wire up the monssster!" He straightens, grinning, "Because I thought you might enjoy it, and because you're a patient, beautiful, wonderful person whom I wanted to see smile after all the awfulness I've put you through the past few days."
Clara rolls her eyes thoroughly, laughing all the more and taking advantage of the briefly lessened height to ruffle your hair. "No, no. My monster," she explains, then promptly melts at the last bit. What woman wouldn't? She turns to carefully rest the rose on the desk, later to find a vase for, and steps in to slide her arms about you in a hug. "Oh, Riley, I'd go through it all again, though. How could I not?"
Riley shifts his arms around you in return, although the side effect is that the penguin he's holding ends up peering over shoulder. He squeezes you gently, but without hesitation, and with a decided strength to the embrace. "I'm just too lucky to have you. I can't thank you enough."
Clara is busily leaning her head into your chest though, and hasn't really processed the fact that she's being stared at by flightless water fowl just yet. "Hey, I think you have that backwards," she notes quietly, then pulls back enough to smile up at you. "Why the change? I did my best to rile up that temper earlier today."
Riley is entirely content to continue the embrace, craving as he does contact. "Yeah, but you were doing it to help me. Sometimes it's best to get the anger past and spent. Makes it go away faster."
Clara doesn't pull away either, for that matter, but does chuckle at that and slip an arm up to your hair for a moment. "That's exactly why I did it," she admits. "Better you angry at me than brooding nonstop. Now, who's that fellow hiding behind your back?"
Riley unfolds his arms, although not without a hint of reluctance, to gesture with a medium sized stuffed penguin. Oddly enough the penguin is wearing a navy blue AF t-shirt and a slightly cross-eyes expression. "It's a penguin. To come convert the bunny to evil."
Clara smacks her forehead, making various acking sounds before she darts away and leaps onto the bed, scooping up said bunny and holding him in protectively from her kneeling position of mock-defiance. "Never! Never, never! My bunny is sweet and innocent, you masher!" she exclaims, grinning.
Riley can't quite muffle a snicker, although he's -trying- to look innocent and put upon as he ambles to the bed, dropping lightly onto its edge. "I am -not- a masher," he says in mock indignance. "Just a sort of squisher." Innocent look, eye bat, he's just a very innocent fluffy haired guy with an equally innocent stuffed penguin, "Just a -little- conversion?"
Clara regards you warily for a long moment, rabbit hugged tightly to her chest and peeping out vaguely over her arms with little glass eyes all a'curious. "You don't squish," she notes absently. "Um...maybe just a little conversion, then," she agrees. "Maybe?"
Riley very carefully sets the penguin on the bed. It peers back at the bunny. It's cross eyed, how dangerous can it be? "See, you can let the bunny decide maybe? If it doesn't want any converting, I can take the penguin back."
Clara transfers her gaze to the penguin, tilting her head as her expression softens. "Awww, he -is- awfully cute," she notices quietly, then sighs and sets the rabbit down beside it. "We'll see what happens. Although I don't know how I'll stand up if the rabbit gets converted. Goodness knows I have enough troubles keeping myself from being pulled under," she teases.
The penguin has managed to fool them. Now, it must simply be slow and careful, and victory will be its! Riley offers an almost shy and wistful grin, "What? You? Pulled under? Nah, I'm just trying to convert you back to -good- is all."
Clara drops her hands to rest on her knees, returning the smile with a faint grin. "Me? Whatever for? Don't you know that those of us so steeped in wickedness are doomed to stay there? Still...if anyone could convert me..." she muses, glancing up at the ceiling thoughtfully.
Riley absently kicks off his boots, squirming around you like a really big lapdog. He ends up with his head by one leg, and his legs by the other, and the rest of him around your back. Kind of like a Riley moat. "I'm not talented at converting I'm afraid. That's Niko Galahad's job. I just polish the round table and try and hire knights." He flashes a grin up at you, "But for you, I'm willing to give it a shot."
Clara makes a startled sound as she surrounded. No retreat now. The sound dissolves into giggles though as she leans back slightly to attempt a somewhat inverted hug. "Head honcho and janitor mighty?" She squirms just enough to sit tailor fashion rather than on her knees and tangles one hand in your hair. "Any ideas on how to go about conversion then?"
Riley gently rests his hand on your knee and nods slightly. In keeping with the Arthurian theme he just quotes, "Hark me well said the wise old man, there's a way known by every woman since this whole rigmarole, began. Do I flatter her I begged him answer, do I puzzle, or cajole or plead? Am I shy or do I play the gay romancer. Said he smiling, no indeed. You love her... Simply love her." Those last words are sung as Arthur sings them, quietly in a soft baritone, but with no hint of tremor.
Now how to answer that? Clara stares for a moment with an stunned, yet delighted, expression, then inhales a deep breath. "You never cease to amaze me," she murmurs, eyes shining. "Except you've already won your Geni, sir," she adds softly, hand drifting from your hair to your face. "You handle this woman very well indeed."
Riley's eyes close in patent delight, "No tragic ending though. I'll skip on the tragic ending. I'll just keep the round table, knights, and Guenivere. Make it end like it shoulda' the first time."
Clara smiles faintly before pulling away just enough to lower down on her side next to you, just watching. "The happy ending version? I think I like that idea." She searches out one of your hands with hers, unable to hide a hint of amusement. "And no wizards to keep you hopping. I can double on that if you like? Except that I'm a soprano, not a tenor," she muses.
Riley curls up around you, this obviously having been what he's wanted all along. And from the gentle fierceness with which he holds you, he must've been wanting to curl around you pretty badly. "My singing'd make a cat laugh. But I can manage a line or two for the sake of trying to get something said," he offers. "I like to sing, but it's not a knack." He lapses into silence.
Clara pulls in as she's curled about, her arms going about your waist tightly. Perhaps the feeling was mutual, from the reaction. "It was lovely," she notes quietly. "Certainly more than enough to stop my heart for a moment, love." She tucks her head in at your shoulder for a moment, then asks, "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Riley offers, "Not anymore." He takes a long breath, "Everything's all right now."
Clara pulls back just enough to search your face somberly, watching you with more than a little concern. "Greg," she murmurs gently. "Talk to me, love."
That elicits a briefly delighted grin. It seems from -you-, Riley likes the nickname. "I'm sorry, it's just been a week, eh? I was feeling a bit distant from everything, like I'd managed to alienate -everyone-."
Clara's expression softens into a mixture of sympathy, adoration, and a touch of exasperated amusement. "Oh, love...alienate? Not a -chance-. Perhaps scared us to death, but that's not your fault. I know, it's been a horrid week. But one bad knight doesn't mean the rest wouldn't follow you into the ground." She pulls just a hint closer, voice softening. "And I'll always love you. No matter what."
Riley takes a long breath, holds it a moment, and then lets it out in a pleased sigh. "Thank you. It means a lot to me for you to say that. It's been an awful week, but it's wonderful to have you to curl up with when the day is done. Very comforting."
"Except I'm not just saying it," Clara offers quietly. "I mean every word." She pauses, then nudges back in to rest her head back on your shoulder. "And if this helps at the end of the day, it's the least I can do. But you're not obligated...you do know this, right?"
"Not obligated?" Riley questions quietly, snuggling down to a comfortable position. He's not exactly set for sleep, but he's definitely resting.
"Mmmm. Never mind," Clara explains, relaxing against you easily. "Not important. I think you figured out how to repay me for this evening, though. Think the penguin's converted the rabbit yet?" She not going to move to turn around to look.
Riley is falling on toward tired, enough so that he doesn't push the question. "How to repay you?" Especially when there's another question to ask. He pauses, "Probably not. But I'm sure it's trying."
A sound of amusement comes from Clara, too muffled to be a laugh, too quiet for much else. "Never mind, love. I was teasing you. And I think someone sounds like he's had a hard day. Stay with me tonight?" she adds with quiet hesitation after a pause.
Riley's arms lock a bit more firmly around you, "If you don't mind? I really... I really want to be here tonight. It really has been a hard day." Like Arthur, he has a vastly optimistic world view, and has been a bit shaken by having it shoved so hard by Guido's betrayal.
"Mind? If you leave, I'd likely cry," Clara admits with a hint of quiet humor. "But you have to let me go just for a few moments? You're a lot stronger than I am, and I'd like to turn off the light, not to mention get this waterpistol out of my waistband." Ah, practicality.
Practicality's an evil thing, but reluctantly Riley does let go. Gently brushing a kiss at your cheek he sits up, shrugging out of jacket and sidearm. "Yeah, can do."
Clara pauses for just an instant at the kiss, eyes widening a touch before she ventures a somewhat shy smile, and instantly edges off he bed and heads for the light, clicking the switch. A soft rustle of cloth is followed by her rejoining you in t-shirt and jeans. "Thanks for losing the weapon. Might get a little too interesting at that."
Riley sighs with quiet contentment as he resumes his former position. Well, more or less. He's got you a little less trapped so it'll be comfortable to sleep. "Yeah. Although getting tangled's not half so bad if you don't have to move afterwards or anything, it's still no picnic."
Clara settles in nearly as close though, trapped or no, a sleepy smile evident in her voice. "I think my feelings would be hurt if you shot me," she notes quietly, seeking out one of your hands with hers. "If I promise not to run, will you not shoot me, mister security type?"
Riley interlaces his fingers through yours, "Shooting you would be bad. I'd as soon shoot myself in the heart, since you carry it."
Clara exhales a soft sigh. "Oh, Riley," she murmurs, "Now how am I supposed to resist you and stay aloof when you say things like that?" She shifts slightly against you, squeezing your hand. "You're not being evil or wicked, but I do love you so."
"But I don't want," Riley yawns broadly, "For you to stay aloof."
"No?" Clara replies quietly, a vague smile almost, just almost visible in the dark. "What do you want, then?"
Riley's reply pauses, as he's tired enough he's having to make sure he remembers to speak entirely in standard. "I want you to do whatever it is you feel like doing. Not holding back, or worrying about anything. I want you to be -happy-."
Clara thinks this over for a moment, slightly tensed, then relaxes into you. "Then I think you should sleep. But...Greg?" she ventures, slipping into the use of the middle name inadvertently. "The same goes for you love. But rest now, hmm?"
Once again there's just that air if delight when you use Riley's middle name. He -really- gets a kick out of that. He is tired though, and it's late. "Rest is good. For a day's worth of leave, it's been a lot of work. Goodnight, love."
Not exactly as alert as she could be herself, Clara's even slipped into her own native accent, soft enough that it's likely been that way for some time. "Ought to confiscate the *yawn* radio again," she murmurs. "G'night, love. Dream sweet."
Riley tugs the blanket up a bit, settling in. "Night, love." And with that he's gone, or close enough as makes no odds.