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Clara is seated at a table near the back against a wall, working her way through breakfast somewhat absently while reading something on a datareader. Still her attention strays from the text often.
Niko pads into the room and heads rather promptly for the breakfast foods, snagging a bowl of oatmeal and some raisins. Adding a glass of milk into the bargain, he turns to find someone upon whom to inflict his presence. Aha! She who holds the skates hostage! With a faint grin, he heads over to your table. "This seat taken?" he inquires, nodding towards the one opposite yours.
Clara's attention, as it was noted, is easily distracted, and she grins up and waves her fork at the other seat. "Sure thing. By you. How's it going, this morning? Feeling better?"
Niko folds himself neatly into the seat, then starts the process of folding the raisins into the oatmeal. "Oh, much better, yeah. I think the weather's settled down a little, which helps. Habout you?" He stirs the beraisined oatmeal briskly, adding, "Everything okay with you?"
Clara pauses with a bit of scrambled eggs halfway to her mouth and blinks. "Fine," she replies absently, peering at you curiously. "The weather's been affecting the way you feel?"
Niko nods at that, starting to work his way through the oatmeal. "Hey, they call them old wive's tales, but the wives are -old-, have lots of experience and all. I looked it up once--something about barometric pressure drops and recently-healed bones."
Clara thoughtfully mangles a piece of sausage into several smaller pieces which promptly get drowned in syrup, all the while as she's shaking her head. "No, -improperly- healed bones are affected by barometric pressure. You shouldn't be hurting at all anymore, Niko. Maybe three hundred years ago, it'd be acceptable, but not now."
Niko peers at his arm for a moment, then shrugs. "Well, it's stopped," he says, pausing to sample his milk. "So I'm -not- hurting any more, which is fine with me." He casts a quick grin at you, adding, "Come on, Clara. I don't want to be like all the fluffies, accosting you with random medical problems."
Clara polishes off more breakfast. And continues to do so. Essentially, Clara eats. She also lifts a brow and smirks. "I'd tell you if you were accosting me with such, Niko. I'd say 'Shoo! Go on, breakable duck! You're bothering me!'. But you're not, and I'm going to worry. Still, if it's stopped hurting, that's a good thing."
Niko eats, too. That can be a given, as he -likes- oatmeal with raisins. "Definitely a good thing. And if it starts up again, I'll come harass you while you're on duty, promise." He pauses for a moment, as if deciding whether to say something else, then shakes his head. "But we can talk about more important things, right? Like whether you know where my skates are, and why the -heck- you keep calling me a duck. I can't be a duck -and- a tiger, that's just wrong."
Clara pauses to see if that question emerges, then snickers, spearing another bit of sausage. "You can come bother me even if I'm -not- on duty. Like now. See? I'm botherable. And you're a duck because I was telling Kya once that both you and Riley took to the military like ducks to water. And you're a tiger, but I'm not sure why."
Niko mumbles something about natural ferocity, sounding amused. He considers his own personal duckiness for a moment, then shakes his head. "Eh, maybe. Eventually. After I got rid of being young." Thus says the wise old sage of twenty-two. He waves his spoon at you, adding, "You didn't mention the skates, though. Last I remember having them--and, mind, all that's still kind of sketchy--I was in medbay."
Clara flutters her eyelashes at you in an over-concerted effort at innocence. "Skates? What skates?" she queries in the most syrupy drawl she can muster up, then grins. "They're in my office, actually. I figured they'd be safe in there, and then forgot. Let me finish eating and we can go get them?"
Niko nods amiably, though not without a snort at your pseudo-innocence. "Sure, sounds good. No rush, though. I'm not going to be skating today, at least. Busy busy, lots to do." And, in fact, he needs to finish eating as well, though he increases his eating rate somewhat.
Clara was half done with her food when you arrived, so clears her plate with a little less haste, then reaches for her coffee. "You're probably going to use the skates to knock me over the head. I'm afraid I've made your life just a bit busier, although only for twenty-four hours. I had to toss Riley off duty for a day."
Niko grimaces at that. "Doesn't he realize that it'd be easier all-round if he just figured out how much he could do and did -that-, 'stead of working himself too hard and ending up off duty because of it?" He scrapes up the last bit of oatmeal, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "You'd think he'd've figured that out, as long as he's been here."
Clara exhales a soft sigh, holding her mug up to her face without drinking. Coffee just smells good sometimes, not to mention it's warm, which is why both hands are wrapped about her mug. "Honestly? I don't think he ever learned that, really. I mean, he's had Honalee around for so long to keep him on track, and now me. Still...he's so responsible in everything else. I guess everyone has to leave -some- part of their life to someone else's judgement."
Niko considers that for a moment, taking an absent drink from his near-empty milk glass as he does so. (Milk, it does a body good.) "I guess. Honestly, though, I'd still rather he took care of himself. Can't be good, him getting that tired and all so often." He grins crookedly. "Heck, I did it -once-, and Ela gave me a hard time about it." Polishing off the last of the milk, he puts the glass down on his tray.
Milk did that? Hmm. Not bad work indeed. (Clara's lifemated, not blind, of course. And Niko -is- easy on the eyes.) Still, she seems a vague mixture of concerned and faintly amused as she holds up a hand. "I think I pulled him off duty before he got to that point. I hope. We'll see when he wakes up, actually, which I'm hoping won't be for at least another hour."
Niko nods agreeably. "Hopefully more, yeah. If he sleeps himself out, that's a good thing." He peers at his chrono, then says, "I've got maybe an hour before I have to get back to work. That'd be plenty of time to snag the skates, if you're ready?"
Clara bolts the last bit of her coffee, and sets the mug on the tray before scooping the whole shebang up and grins. "Am now, yeah. Do me a favor though? Don't try to skate down stairs anymore?" she teases, heading over to dispose of tray and dishes.
Niko picks up the tray with his right hand, using the left mostly for balance. "I didn't -try- to skate down the stairs," he retorts, though not without a grin. And, naturally, he follows to dispose of his own dishes. "I just forgot I was wearing them, and the stairs were right there. That's all."
Clara hesitates, homing in unerringly on your hands for a moment, although for now she doesn't say anything. Instead, she slips her own hands into her jacket pockets along with her datareader. "See, forgetting that you're wearing them isn't really the best either. You break, and then I have to fix you. Which I don't mind doing, but it can't be fun for you," she explains as she heads for the door, vastly amused.
Niko trails along behind you. He's good at following. "Not even remotely fun, yeah," he says, apparently finding your commentary humorous, but maybe not as funny as you do. "I've decided to -carry- them back and forth between the park from now on, and take them off when I'm done skating. Kind of inconvenient, but less so than breaking again, eh?"
Clara flashes a grin upwards and nods. "Far better than breaking, I'd agree. Besides, you don't really want Ela to worry, do you?" Yes, Clara is evil. She took classes in it.
[travel spam to Clara's office snipped]
Niko shakes his head firmly at that. "Definitely don't want Ela to worry, no way. So I'll be more careful with the skates." At least until he gets careless again, which is inevitable. "Hey," he adds, with a quick grin, "At least it's not hang-gliding."
Clara shudders faintly and moves towards a small closet and rummages at the bottom for a moment before extracting the appropriate skates. "Thank goodness for small miracles. Breaking is bad enough. Breaking while -flying-...that's got to be some seven kinds of hell, in my book. Here you go," she adds, handing the skates over.
Niko's expression is maybe a little wistful. "Yeah, hitting mountains is really bad, but the -gliding-... might have to look into that." He pauses for a moment before taking the skates, then takes them both with his right hand, holding them together, hand over the parts where they meet. (Okay, that's really a bad description.) "Thanks for hanging on to these, Clara. 'preciate it."
Clara's eyes drift back to that left hand again for a moment, a hint of troubled concern invading the glance before she reaching out and attempts to circle that wrist with her fingers. "What's going on, Niko? Why aren't you using your left hand?"
Niko peers at you for a moment, though he lets his wrist be encircled easily enough. "Uh... I'm not left-handed?" Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya...
"Neither am I," is the immediate response as Clara half drags you towards the bioscan so she can reach her scanner. "Now, want to elucidate a little?" she adds, clicking the scanner on and moving her fingers so they won't interfere with the readout.
"Well, see, I'm -right- handed," Niko starts. That's elucidation, after all. He does, however, continue before he can be smacked with a nerf, or a stray penguin. "Just doesn't seem to be working quite up to speed, that's all. Can't really feel things all that well. I don't want to drop things. And before you give me a hard time about this," he adds quickly, "I -was- going to tell you about it, just wanted to see if it got better on its own first."
Clara sighs faintly and clicks off her scanner, nodding as she turns to open a cabinet above the bioscan and stand on her toes to rummage for a different instrument. "I believe you. I'm sorry, too. I would have prevented this if I could," she explains, finally pulling down something long and circular, perhaps eight inches in diameter, and gleaming in an ominous black.
Niko's brows lift, first at your words and then at that ominously gleaming thing. "Uh... prevented what?" He eyes the door, but just for a moment. "And y'don't have to apologize, of course."
Niko peers at his chrono before, with a muffled sigh, he tugs off his jacket and perches on the edge of the bioscan bed. It's not close enough to work time that he can use that as an excuse, alas. "Not like it's not happened before," he says, with a brief shrug. "Honestly, Clara, I'm just glad that I didn't have to deal with casts and such for all that."
Clara starts to bring the unit over to fasten over your arm, then peers up at you with widening eyes. "You've had sensory problems with this arm before? Niko, why didn't you ever tell me?"
Niko shrugs once more. "It happened a long time ago," he replies, peering at the unit for a moment. "Back in Mathraki, when I was a kid. It's why I don't play the piano," he adds, with a brief, wryly amused smile. "Happened so long ago, I'm kind of used to it. Adapted, that sort of thing."
Clara just shakes her head, continuing with fastening the device in place. Lo and behold, this one's painless too. Niko's lucking out lately with the painless devices. At least...it's painless at -first-. "I wish I'd known. Do you want to rehabilitate this problem?"
Niko is quiet for a moment, casting another look at the increasingly evil device. "Uh... maybe. Depends. What would that involve?"
Evil? Now, now. The device is most innocently testing various nerve responses. And testing. And testing more stringently. "It's about to do a pain threshold test," Clara interjects quietly, offering a hand. "You can squeeze if you need to, but it'll only last three seconds. I'll know more about what rehabilitation will involve when the testing is done."
Niko takes the offered hand, but carefully doesn't squeeze it, as he's not a fan of causing injury to someone who's trying to help him--even if it -does- hurt. One thousand one, one thousand two... okay, well, no, it's not malicious squeezing, and he stops it as soon as the pain ends, taking a deep breath. "Okay," he says slowly, "That wasn't fun."
Clara gives your hand a companionable squeeze of apology, then lets go to gingerly remove the unit and balance it on the back of the bed to start coaxing out information. "It never is, no. And it's the one test I can't give an anesthetic for, since the whole idea is to stimulate the pain receptors." Tap tap. "Hmm."
Niko rubs the poor, tortured limb for a moment. "Sounds like a really -bad- idea to me," he murmurs. He looks up at the tapping, and echoes, "Hmm? Is that a good hmm or a bad hmm?" (Or is it not a hmm at all, but instead a girl named Dorothy?)
Naah, Dorothy is Clara's great-grandmother. I don't think we're in Kansas anymore. "It's just a hmm. The damage isn't severe, per se...but it's been let go a long time. It'd take extensive therapy to reverse this. Now, the good news is therapy would only take ten minutes each session, three times a week."
Niko's brows lift as he reaches for his jacket. "But? There's bad news, right? When there's good news, there generally is." He doesn't put on the jacket just yet, apparently just reminding himself of its presence.
Clara tilts her head for a moment with a vague grin, then heads to a closet to rummage for a moment more and return with something that looks frighteningly like mobile skeletal regenerator. "Well, let me show you," she offers, moving around to attempt to start fastening electrodes.
Niko is not going to go for that. He tucks his hands behind his back, casting a wary look at the evil machine before he suggests, "Maybe you could just tell me? A demonstration isn't necessary, really."
Clara can't help but laugh affably, reaching for your arm. "Ni-ko, stop it. Give me that arm back. I promise, this actually doesn't hurt. It's a bizarre sensation, but not painful. I had to have this done to my back for a year, so I know."
Niko returns the arm with just a hint of reluctance. "Just, the electrodes, and the way it looks..." He shakes his head. "Sorry, I've had docs in the past who weren't quite as nice as you, kind of sprung things on me. What'd you do to your back?"
Fastening on the electrodes, Clara nods with a rueful smile. "It looks like a regenerator, I know. Same principle, only it works on the nerve endings rather than the bones." Covering the electrodes wit a felt pad, she shrugs vaguely. "I didn't do a thing. Someone else did."
Niko's brows lift just a bit, but he doesn't press the issue. "Uh, yeah. Hm. That's weird. You'd think nerves's hurt more than bones. Or I would, at least."
The electrodes do indeed start to work, emitting pulses directing into the arm that have much the same feeling as if one had touched their tongue to the end of a nine volt battery. Not painful, but certainly odd. "You'd think," Clara agrees affably. "Actually, though, the pain is just an indicator of damage, or a warning signal. Itself, it's not the problem." She glances up wryly. "I got tangled at point blank in the back," she explains.
Niko had braced himself to hurt despite your words, perhaps instinctively. Maybe it's the presence of the electrodes that does it--he's certainly had enough experience with regenerators. And so he peers at his arm for a moment as it -doesn't- hurt, but instead feels decidedly odd, before turning back to you. "That doesn't sound good at all. Bad enough at a distance."
Clara continues to watch the readout of the small unit causing the electrodes to work, chuckling. "Honestly? I didn't feel a thing, at first. And I'm -real- glad the gun wasn't set to plasma. I think the guy didn't realize he was shooing a field medic, because he ended up dragging me back to my CO, all sorts of apologetic. Actually, now it's kind of funny. How's that feeling?"
Niko murmurs something about tangling being really funny, yeah, though his diction is not the best. "Uh, weird," he replies. "Not the most descriptive of words, but that's it. Doesn't hurt, though, which is nice." He'd definitely not be thrilled, after all, if he'd had a regenerator going this long.
Clara chuckles distractedly, adjusting a calibration slightly before shutting the unit down. "No, no...the guy's reaction was funny. Not being shot. That was just annoying. I was trying to patch someone up, and it interrupted. Okay, all done," she adds brightly, starting to disconnect the unit. "Arm tingling at all?"
Niko is silent as the unit is disconnected. "A little bit," he ventures. " Maybe. Yeah. So that's all the therapy would involve?" He pokes at the arm in question with one finger. Yeah. still there.
Clara nods, approving as she runs the scanner back over your arm again. "Mm-hmm. Three times a week. Easy as pie, not painful, and it should fix any problems in that arm. I'll want to do a spinal image resonance to eliminate the possibility of the damage eminating from there, but I really don't think it is, and we can do that some other day if this doesn't seem to work."
Niko twitches his jacket as if he's going to put it on again, but he's (relatively) patient, and waits. "Yeah, holding off on that is good," he says, with a faint grin. "I'm already late as it is--though I told Anya, so it's okay. How long would it take to get back up to speed, d'you know?"
Clara waves at the jacket, by now outright grinning. "Oh, put your clothes back on, silly," she exclaims. Now wouldn't -that- be an interesting comment for someone to walk in on? "My guess? About six months, maybe. An arm isn't all that hard to nudge back into action. Now go ahead and scoot before Anya comes and thwaps me for hiding all her best officers."
Niko blinks as he tugs on his jacket once more. "Six -months-? And that's not much time? Yeesh." He shakes his head, fastening the jacket. "Anya wouldn't thwap you, though. Maybe she'd toss Addie and some cookies on here, but she wouldn't thwap you."
Clara waves her hands before relooping the neural rehabilitator and setting it in a drawer in the bioscan. "Nonono! See, that'd be bad. I've already got that G'ben kid about once in a while, and he's far too cute for his own good. Now, let's see. Skates, physical therapy, breakfast. Got everything?"
If Niko were Terrence, that would be, of course, the perfect cue. Proving that genetics aren't everything, however, Niko just hops down from the bioscan, with a brief nod. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Clara. I'll bug Giani or someone later about when I'm supposed to come back next--sometime when I'm not late for work." With that, he tosses off a brief, almost-salute, and heads for the door.
Clara sketches something vaguely salute like back and continues to pick up the instruments before heading out the door herself. "Any of us can run a therapy unit, Niko. That'll work fine. Have a good day."
Niko casts a brief grin over his shoulder. "You, too. Don't work too hard."
[After a while, Clara heads home]
Clara lets herself in as quietly as possible, even taking care to set her keys on the table noiselessly on the hopeful chance that you're still asleep, and starts to pull off her jacket.
Riley isn't precisely asleep, but nor is he precisely awake, instead sprawled in such a fashion as to watch the shifting clouds through the window. The first noises do not alert him, but the rasping sound of cloth causes him to turn slightly and give you a sleepy smile. "H'lo love."
Clara settles her jacket over the back of a chair and crosses over to sit beside you, a smile lighting her face warmly. "Hey there, sailor. How'd you sleep?"
"Not too bad," Riley murmurs, using an arm to lever himself into a seated position with slow care. "Did you ever get any sleep?"
Clara reaches over to rest a hand at your knee, rubbing lightly. "Mm-hmm. I finally came to bed about an hour after you fell asleep, and got up about 0800 to go grab breakfast. I sent some up here too...it's in the warmer. Then I had to fix Niko again," she explains with amused asperity.
And that last has Riley altogether alert with amazing alacrity, "What did Nick do?" Yes, from asleep to 60 in under four seconds, Riley could be a new car.
Clara shakes her head, laughing softly at the reaction and lighting on a knot in your leg that she tries to work out. "Simmer down, love. He didn't do a thing. It's just old nerve damage that I hadn't known he has. So I plunked him in a rehabilitation routine, and he should be fine inside of six months."
Riley relaxes again, once again half be-slumped in his seated sprawl. As the knot is worked upon he seems to relax even still further, a vague Riley puddle. "No new randomly breaking himself though, then. That's good. That last mess, and arresting Valentine and all, those were a busy few days."
"So I gathered," Clara responds, abandoning your leg to reach up for your shoulders and rub lightly. After smoothing a curl away, of course. Far too tempting. "What about you? Any residual pain? I read Vryce's report of that night..."
Riley murmurs a soft appreciative phrase as the knots in his shoulders are rubbed upon. "Residual pain? Which night?"
Clara wrinkles her nose in concern, still rubbing with one hand, but dropping the other to rest at your ribs. "When the Complex fell on you. Are there other injuries that I need to know about?"
Riley ahhs softly as understanding dawns, he shakes his head slightly. "No other injuries, no, I just wasn't sure whatcha' meant you see." He shrugs the free shoulder slightly. "Aches a bit in the cold, or if I spend too long in one position, but otherwise no problems. No random broken bodily parts I've neglected to mention, promise."
Clara sighs faintly, the sound ending in a soft chuckle as she resumes working at shoulder knots. "Lovely. All the men in my life are falling apart before my eyes. -What- aches in the cold or if you've been still for too long? Your ribs? Back? Left shin? Right earlobe?"
Riley stifles a quiet laugh, "That's it, the right earlobe, -dang- how did you ever guess." He shakes his head, yawning a bit, "My chest, the ribs I guess. I assumed it was just sort of..well normal. I mean, you break something, it disagrees with you for a while, right?"
"I'm just good," Clara replies with thorough smugness, then snickers as well, still rubbing. "I'd say in this case you're likely right, though. Niko's, I could pen up to nerve damage. But you've had some massive thoracic trauma over the last eight months. I can give you something for the pain?"
Riley shakes his head slightly in a brief negative gesture. "So far it's not been anything that a hot shower or a couple of asprin couldn't cure. If that changes though, I'll letcha' know? Thank you though for the offer." Melt, melt, the rubbing is turning Riley into all kinds of puddle.
"Please? I'd hate to think you were hurting, and I could have done something about it," Clara offers, working her way down towards over-tense pectorals. "Egads, love. It feels like you've been taking on the entire Council with your hands tied behind your back."
Riley's eyes sink shut as the muscles are massaged into behaving. "It's been a bad couple of weeks. Working a lot with Burke, which is less than easy, knowing now that he and Lexington staged Lexington's death. My review's coming up, and they've got the whole thing, trip and review itself blocked in for less than twelve hours. That should be an adventure or five. Arresting Valentine, Nick breaking himself, it's just a bit much."
Clara tenses slightly, although she forces her hands to continue their work. "Your review? Not for the Complex?" she asks quietly, concern evident in her voice. "I thought you had to return to Terra for that?"
Riley nods slightly, having to bring a hand back to support himself as over-melted is not conducive to sitting up properly. "Mine, yeah. And I do. I'm going by courier. I am suddenly wishing I was about a foot and a half shorter."
Clara's brows furrow as she shifts both hands to work at the front of your left shoulder. "I can imagine you would. I'm not exactly huge, but I usually would like to lose a few inches for those as well. Twelve hours. That's one hell of a displacement factor. You'll be okay?"
Riley nods, although not after a brief pause, "Yeah, I'll be all right. Although I am not certain how coherant they expect me to be for this review. Still, the board's not bad, I know most of them, and they are not those that dislike me overmuch."
"What? What is it, love?" Clara queries quietly, still working at a stubborn area on that shoulder. "You're worried about something?"
Riley chuckles perhaps a bit sheepishly, "Reviews are always worrisome I'm afraid. I dunno why, but they are. And I may be Navy, but that kind of displacement factor's gonna be exceedingly unpleasant even for me. I'm a wuss I'm afraid, begging misery always seems to me a bit silly."
Clara reaches across to work at the other shoulder with both hands, shifting her balance so as not to fall across you, and shakes her head with a wistful smile. "Silly man. That's a hard factor for -anyone- darling. I'd be a puddle of uselessness for a good day or two afterwards. Mind if I work out a day or two off for you after it? You'll need it..."
Riley brings back the other hand now as well, having to prop himself up against the urge to flop back on his back. "You won't catch me complaining, although I'm not going to count on it being possible around here. Don't wanna' stress Nick out again. He was so upset last time."
"Aaah, but is was also your XO that informed me today that it was silly that you would work yourself to the point of having to be hauled off duty. I think he's getting used to his new job," Clara decides, then snickers. "Riley, for Pete's sake, lay down. You look like you're about to fall over."
Looking perhaps a bit sheepish, Riley does so, easing comfortably back. "Sorry, was just enjoying what you were doing, but relaxing a bit too much and sitting don't mix." He hmms, "If he has, that'd be good, I've just been trying to keep him from panicking again. Felt guilty..."
Clara manages an over innocent pout, shifting again to reach that far shoulder efficiently. "What? I wasn't able to keep you distracted from all those evil invading thoughts? Well, bother. I'll have to do more research in how to distract a man," she decides simply. "What's on the non-agenda for today, by the way? Any requests?"
Riley's eyes sink half shut with another pleased murmur, "Hadn't thought about it I'm afraid. Just figured I'd shmooze around, I guess. Not very wild or crazy, or clueful or anything, just vague. Vague I can do."
Clara glances up with quiet fondness, then shakes her head and stops rubbing to reach down and pull up a comforter. "I'll call everyone and cancel all the invitations for the wild party I'd planned tonight then."
Riley hmphs softly in mild amusement, offering you a somewhat sleepy smile. "Nah, no need, you can just prop me in the corner and say I'm sculpture. Maybe drape a blanket over my head."
"We'll let you hold the keg," Clara teases affably, smoothing the comforter down over you before shifting to sit against the headboard. "Sleepy again?"
Riley stifles a yawn, "Sort of, more like not having been awake to start with. I can be awake if it's needful, s'there someplace you'd like to go? You on duty soon? Can wake up if I have to.."
Clara tilts her head to smile down at you, smothering a faintly lovestricken sigh. "I'm on emergency call today," she offers. "Traded with Jones so I could stay up here a little with you. If you're sleepy, though, going back to sleep's usually a good thing."
Riley shifts up to one side and closer to you, attempting to wrap an arm half around you. "I'd rather spend time with you though, than sleep. It's been so busy lately for us both."
Clara's brows quirk in surprised delight at the embrace, and she rests an arm over yours in return. "More busy for you, love," she notes with quiet fondness. "I've been spending a lot of extra time in the library or making house calls. And trying to think of ways to connive you into your annual."
"Annuals are evil, there's better things to do with time. Like spend it like this," Riley murmurs, half snuggling in closer in a generally contented fashion. "The library? Anything interesting?"
Clara gives in finally and bends nearly double to unlace her boots and kick them to the ground before scooting down to snuggle in. "Mm-hmm. Still puzzling my way through your Code. I'm a whole twenty pages into the first book," she announces, immitating a child who's just successfully added 2+2, then laughs. "It's intriguing."
Riley curls in close, insinuating himself against and around you. "Honestly I'm amazed you've gotten as far as that, the thing's ridiculously complex, and the language is archaic."
Clara almost beams, snaking an arm about your waist and relaxing contentedly. "I didn't say I understood it all...just that I've read through that much. The comprehension is at a whole different level. Like the basement," she adds ruefully.
Riley chuckles softly, sighing in decided warm contentment. "Hey, if it helps any, I don't always understand it, and I was raised to it. I would offer what help I can, though Cori or Honalee'd probably be better at that than I."
Clara absently reaches up to tangle a hand in your shirt, almost illegally happy with the situation, and chuckles. "I'll likely bother your sister in a month or so after I've given it all the time to percolate alone in my head it needs. Right now I wouldn't even know what questions to ask. On the upswing, I am picking up vocabulary. Grammar's coming far more slowly, though."
"Grammar's optional," Riley murmurs, eyes closing shut not in sleepiness but in pleasure. "Cause it very much depends on which part of the planet you're from, or even level. Corian's sentence structure is different from mine for example, although both of us speak kind of a hodgepodge from all the moving. But Jay's is pretty distinctive from the area he's from."
Clara shifts her other arm up beneath her head to use as a pillow, considering this. "Standard's actually very similar. Remember that bit I was using with the harbormaster? That was actually Standard...just a really distant dialect of it."
Riley ahhs softly, smiling fondly at the memory. "That was a wonderful day," he muses. There's a murmur of agreement, "Like that then. One of the fun things about moving so much, after a while, -everybody- figured I talked funny."
Clara seems to be drawn into the memory as well, releasing your shirt with a lazy smile as her fingers move inexorably to your hair. "Wonderful couple of days," she murmurs with a hazy sigh. "You don't talk funny, though. Goodness, love, you've got one of those voice that sends shivers down a woman's back."
Riley hmphs quietly at that, amused if not agreeing. "Now I sound funny even to me. Trying to stick to this speech pattern gets t'be tricky sometimes." He does sigh however as your fingers find curls, "Feels nice...need to get that trimmed though."
Clara chuckles softly, working through the slightly overlong curls. "I think you might do the same I do. Slip into a more casual speech pattern so as not to confuse everyone else. Then again, you've heard my native speaking habits. Sounds like a blasted debutante convention. Beh-lech," she emphasizes. "Like it long," she murmurs. "Gotta get it cut today?"
Riley is still for a moment, simply enjoying the sensations of being in a warm and comfortable bed with the woman he loves. "Nah, it can wait. Not on duty today, so Anya the scissors Nazi won't attack."
"I should tell her you call her that," Clara mutters in amusement, slipping her hand from your hair to tap your nose lightly. "That's an evil thing to say."
"She'd shave my head for that though," Riley answers with a snicker. "She is awful about it. One micron over regulation length and she hauls out clippers."
Clara inhales a gasp of sudden horror, eyes snapping open wide. "-Shave-? I'm afraid I'd have to break out the sharp and pointy evil medical instruments for that. Shaved, indeed. Hmpf. That'd be worse than when they cut mine off. I yelled. A lot."
"Cut yours off?" Riley questions in a softly ambling tone.
Clara rolls her eyes, cuddling a bit closer, and nods. "My freshman year at the Academy. The upperclassman got hold of me and snipped it all to about an inch long all over. It was...fluffy."
Riley manages to choke back the worst of a snicker, easing down to plant a gentle kiss atop your hair. "Fluffy, oh dear, my poor abused love. Still, it grew back, and it's lovely. Like burnished copper silk."
"I deserved it," Clara adds with wistful amusement, then sighs at the kiss and compliment, excessively pleased, although it's in the rules that she murmurs, "Flatterer. M'not letting you off medleave, if that's what you're after."
Riley laughs quietly, his tone teasingly hopeful, "Do I at least get out of the annual?"
Clara pulls back a bit, eyes opening to a rather mischevous green under a quirked brow. "Nope," she finally decides. "It'd take a lot more than that to get out of your physical. Of course, I suppose if you don't -want- help with the requisition letters this year..."
Riley sniffs, attempting to look pitiful and lost, "But, but Cla-ra, it's -evil-. Poking and prodding and many disparaging remarks. My poor oft battered ego will simply perish."
Clara shifts up onto one elbow to peer down at you with asperity, pushing back a cascade of curls. "Now what in the world would I say to you in an exam that I don't say to you here at home, Riley Addison?" she challenges affectionately.
"Dunno," Riley murmurs quietly, "But you'd come up with something prolly. Never had an annual that didn't involve gettin' harrassed."
Clara slips a hand under the blanket to poke at your ribs, eyes dancing. "And I don't torment you the rest of the time, Greggykins?" she asks, voice sweetly at odds with her actions.
Riley squirms back from the poking, snickering softly. "Well yeah, but not usually in public and all like that."
Clara is relentless, though, turning the poking into merciless tickling. "So I give you an examination in my office. Never said it had to be out in the middle of Medbay, silly man."
Riley continues his attempts to escape, snickering and burrowing beneath the thick comforter like an escaping ferret. "Ack! Ack! Wench! Never! I will not surrender!"
Clara considers this, then abandons tickling to slip out of the bed and tiptoe away from it towards her bag resting on the table. And the disc gun inside. "Vee haf vays of making you talk, sir!"
Riley curls the blanket entirely over him, like a massively fluffy turtle shell. "Nope, nope, nope, I shall not give in. I will resist your evil wiles and cruel attempts to make me submit to the horrid evil."
"Oh, no?" Clara's voice moves closer before she attempts to whip the blanket away and bring her weapon about, clicking the various buttons on and setting it to whirring. *thwack* One disc shoots out. "Surrender! You're surrounded!""
"Ack!" Riley dives for the side of the bed, commando rolling off its side and coming up at the ready to return fire. Um, whoops. He's unarmed. He ducks back down again. "Never! Cannot give up! Cannot endure an annual!"
Clara lets out a high-pitched rebel yell, leaping to one side to snap off another shot "You know you can't hold out! Old age and treachery are no match for youth and beauty!"
A penguin zooms out from behind the bed, arcing gently towards you like a grenade. It must have been tucked up in the under bed workings. "Penguins untie! Err unite! Something!"
Clara's eyes nearly cross as the penguin splorps into her between them, then bounces to the floor. Doctor and bird regard each other for a moment before she cracks up laughing and bounces over to stand on the couch. *Kathwap* goes the gun. "Bad speller flightless waterfowl anonymous?" she asks pleasantly.
Riley clambers under the bed itself, hiding beneath it. He's sorely short on ammunition you see. "Nah, that anacronyms out to BSFWA, and it's no fun to say." He is still snickering, cowering from the foam disks. "No annual! Bad! No!"
Clara bounds off the couch and makes an effort to do a flying leap over you and onto the bed, firing as she goes. "Annuals are our friend! Great fun, and they earn you chocol- ack." That last bit would be Clara missing and landing on the ground. "Ouch."
Noting the ouch, Riley clambers quickly from beneath the bed, hiding abandoned. "You okay, love?"
Clara sports a look more appropriate for a starving gamin on the street, all big green eyes and a slight pout. This lasts just until you come into range before she brings up the gun to fire again, then tries to bounce up and away, snickering. "Agony, actually."
Riley acks and ducks the renewed fire, hands crossing over his head. "Agony?"
Clara retreats a few feet, weapon held ready as she nods, grinning. "Landing on the floor. And that the man I love more than anything won't come visit me at work." She starts to fire another shot, but the only sound is *click*. "Uh-oh..."
A-ha! Riley heard that, scrambling to bare feet and all but leaping to attempt to encompass you in his arms, "Out of ammo! Aha!" He all but melts, "I'll come -visit-...anytime you like."
"Ack!" is Clara's only yelp as she's tackled, gun flying out of her hand to skid to a stop on the table as she sinks into your side, beaming upwards. "It wouldn't be much more complicated than a visit, darling. I'll even kiss you this time. Don't think I did that last exam."
Riley attempts to scoop you up into his arms. "I dunno..." He doesn't sound convinced. "You'll be evil, and harass, and be evil."
Clara makes a small sound of surprise as the ground goes away, but links her arms companionably about your neck. "I'm not evil all the time?" she asks in mock astonishment.
"No," Riley murmurs softly to you as he settles you gently onto the bed. "Normally you're a terribly sweet and wonderful woman, with whom I am deeply in love."
Clara reluctantly unlinks her hands as she's laid down, expression softening dramatically. "And I love you," she replies quietly. "I don't think I could even try to be evil when you say things like that."
Riley slides to sit on the bed next to you, cross-legged and grinning sappily if sleepily. "My wonderful Clara, forever and ever and ever a few more times."
Clara wrinkles her nose in a grin, pulling her arms up to rest linked fingers behind her head. "If you want me that long, I'll certainly be yours, even when I'm old and gray and you still look fifty. In the meantime, why are you way over there?"
Riley eases down onto the bed, curling up closer to you. "Way over where?" he questions innocently, "N'I won't age as slowly as that. Besides, as beautiful as you are, I will find you just as so when years have passed as I do now."
"Haven't a clue," Clara murmurs, arms coming out from behind her head to attempt to wrap about you. "Going to be an old lady with long, long white hair. In a bun. And I shall wear purple," she decides. "And torment you, because I love you."
Riley is more than content to be in your arms, stifling half a yawn as he returns the embrace. "Sounds nice to me. Very nice indeed. N'I can corner the neighborhood kids and inform them at length about the good old days."
"Can we have a dozen cats?" Clara asks most innocently, then buries her face in your hair, inhaling deeply. "My Greg," she murmurs almost inaudibly. "Naptime?"
"Cats? A dozen? As long as we can have a dog too. Want a dog, and a yard...Or maybe on the beach, frisbee in the surf." Who said Riley didn't have ambitions. "Your Greg. Naptime? Naps are nice."
Clara snickers a muffled laugh, tightening her embrace slightly and brushing a kiss in your hair. "No, I just always wanted to be the 'Crazy Old Cat Lady Down the Street'. We had a neighbor like that. Frisbees in smurfs?" she adds, momentarily baffled.
There's a confused pause and then Riley begins snickering, "Surf, surf, like waves? Not smurf like Kya." He settles in close. "-My- crazy old cat lady."
Clara dissolves into quiet giggles, more felt at this proximity at heard. "Whoops. Definitely not the same, nope." Her eyes close in contentment, plus so as not to get hair in her eyes as she rubs her cheek along your curls. "Mm-hmm. All yours. Whatcha gonna do with me?"
"Keep you forever," Riley answers softly if ridden with sleep. "Cause I love you, and I feel alive when you're here. Never knew what I was missing, before."
"Missing penguins before," Clara replies languorously, extending a hand to tug the comforter up a bit more. "And a bed that fit." Practical things, of course.
"Was missing a whole half of me. Part of my soul, out there somewhere, but I never knew its lack." Riley yawns softly, half drowsing. "B'then I met you, and all too quickly I realized where the other half of me was."
Clara's eyes flicker open at this, a soft sniff muffled lightly before she cuddles all the closer. "Joined and intertwined," she murmurs solemnly, then half-smiles into your hair. "Should sleep, darling. Nap'll do you good."
"Sleep's good, so tired." And with that, Riley stills in your arms, breathing beginning to even.
Clara doesn't sleep, although she is far too relaxed, warm, comfortable...all of the above and thensome to even consider moving. Sanctioned daydreaming time, a rarity.
[Nappage occurs]
Riley vaguely stirs on the bed, mumbling something about the vital importance of packing that makes little to no sense.
Clara had finally fallen asleep, face down with only a shock of fluff showing above the blanket. At the movement, the curls shift. "Packing?" The word is quiet and rather muffled.
Riley half opens his eyes, blinking and looking altogether sheepish that he woke you. "Sleep, hon, sorry. Didn't mean'ta wake ya'. Wasn't thinking."
Clara shifts up to both elbows, still only a mass of copper moppery showing for a moment. "S'okay," she murmurs, then yawns. "Why y'gotta pack?"
Riley can't help but smile fondly at the moppery, reaching out a gentle hand to brush sleep-clumsy fingers over the curls. "Tommorrow's when I have to leave for my review."
Somewhere in the mass of hair, Clara finally emerges somewhat, blinking owlishly at you. "Tomorrow? Oh...oh, Riley," she breathes quietly. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Didn't occur to me, sorry m'love. S'only twelve hours. Not even as long as I'm at work most days." Riley sounds rather guiltily apologetic, hand coming away from your hair.
Clara gives the retreating hand an almost mournful look, then shifts to one side to pillow her head on an arm, rubbing at her eyes with the other hand. "No, s'okay. Not long at all. Just a long way, is all. Have any free time there? I c'n call Mother or Niles. Meet you for lunch or such."
Riley gently reaches out to the curls again as they are made accessible once again. "The time maybe, but are they likely to want to meet me after that hop out, then being grilled by a board? I'd hate to say something to offend em."
Clara chuckles vaguely, tilting her head slightly towards your hand and reclosing her eyes, although her words slowly gain clarity and lose their accent. "Mother? Niles? Won't care a bit. Thrilled to meet you, actually. Just won' tell Granmere."
Riley slowly interweaves his fingers into your curls, "As long as they won't be offended by a be-zonked me in dress whites. Heck, -I'd- be offended."
Clara murmurs a quiet sound of contentment, lifting fingertips to your forearm, not to hinder, just to rest there. "Family's politicians'n stockholders, love. Tired admiral isn't going to phase them. Not when I've told Mum and Niles so much about you."
Riley continues his absent caress of your hair, smiling at you fondly. "I'd love the chance t'meet your family then, love. I'll even try and be coherant."
Clara's eyes flicker open in a warm, if somewhat sleepy, smile. "They'll love you. Don't let Mother try to seduce you," she adds. Oh, yes. She's out of it. "I'll comm home tonight, then. Should be early evening there by then."
Riley stifles a laugh at the injunction, "Somehow I think I can manage to avoid that particular fate dear, my heart is already taken." He brings the hand from your hair down to your face, fingers gently brushing along your jawline. "I'd appreciate it love."
Clara shifts her fingertips to rest over your heart in amusement. "Mmm. Mine. Even works when I yell at it to start beating again. Where'll you be? San Francisco?"
"Yeah," Riley murmurs softly, bringing his hand to cover yours with a bemused grin. "But I can easily enough hop a skimmer over."
Clara shifts a bit closer lazily, grinning. "Really? Kingston's..." She stops to think a moment. "The way you drive? Twenty, thirty minutes. Tops. Up to you, though. They can just as easily go north to the mainland."
Riley grins rather sheepishly, "What about the way other folks drive? After that hop, I don't think driving's in the cards. Besides, on Terra, the powers that be expect other people to drive Admirals around."
Clara rolls her eyes in amusement. "Chauffeurs. Scary people. Every one Granmere hired always reminded me of the bogeyman. But you're not there right now. Here with me," she explains contentedly.
Riley curls in closer to you, "Here with you. Not there. Very nice. Warm comfy bed, not a scary courier ship."
Clara leans in to steal a kiss, then laughs quietly. "You're going to tower over Mother, I just realized. She's not any bigger than Kathlyn."
Riley returns the kiss in mild amusement, grinning amiably. "I can walk around on my knees? Would that help?"
Clara snickers and runs a finger down your ribs. "No, silly. Ruin the pants on your uniform, hack off your CO. That'd be a bad thing." She thinks for a moment, taking advantage of the quiet to shift the arm over your waist. "May want to call Niles, Mr. Cavendish, though. He's sweet, just old fashioned."
Riley smiles over at you, a bit sleepy, but almost impish, "Check, I'll be on my best behavior. Mom manners. Easier in that kind of zoned anyhow than the other options."
Clara return her hand to your chest, fingers drawing a lazy circle. "I'm not worried. Just blame it on me if Mother gets uppity and asks why you haven't married me. She won't ask, but just in case. Granmere would ask." She peers up at you solemnly. "Do be careful, darling. Please."
Riley grins in bemused sleepyness, "I'll tell her the truth, that if you'd abide by it, I'd've married you in a heartbeat." He nods to the last, "Will do. Barring potential offending of your relatives, I should be safe enough."
Clara seems slightly taken aback at the first statement, but recovers well and chuckles. "You won't offend them. They'll adore you," she promises, then shifts up to attempt another kiss. "Still sleepy?"
"Kinda," Riley admits, "Though I probably oughta pack. But it's just too nice here with you."
"Pack while I'm on the comm?" Clara suggests, settling back in with a faint sigh of relaxing again.
Riley mmrmhrms, curling comfortably against you. "Now that sounds like a terribly good idea to me. Won't take too much time. I just need to pack the dress whites, m'reports, stuff like that."
"Hide a doctor in your suitcase," Clara slips in casually, then tilts her head back to grin up at you. "Well...a big suitcase."
Riley laughs softly at that, tugging up the comforter. "Oh, love, I wish. But you'd be so miserable..."
"At that displacement factor? Too right, I would," Clara assures agreeably, all but vanishing under the comforter again. "Don't much care for most of North America either. S'cold."
"S'a beautiful time of year for San Francisco though, the sun and wind on the bay..." Riley murmurs quietly, tucking the blanket around you. "Don't want my poor love sick."
"Come home soon, you can have that here," Clara promises. "And I'm not sick. I don't think I am. I don't feel sick, at least," comes up from under the blanket. Was that a kiss at your neck? Nah. Bedbugs.
"No, but if you took two jumps like that, you would be," Riley murmurs, sounding decidedly content at the kiss, murmuring quietly.
"Mm-hmm. Violently," is the muffled answer as she continues to make a nuisance of herself. "Have to take the Earth-Linnae trip in at least four jumps. Normal cruiser displacement."
Riley does not seem to consider you a nuisance, instead grinning and leaning down to attempt to steal a kiss. "This'll be the fastest I've ever taken it, but hey. Should be an adventure."
Clara is easily distracted enough to return the kiss with an interest rate the mafia would approve of, then notes thoughtfully, "Want me to make up a sedative hypo for the trip back?"
Riley shakes his head with an amused grin, swiping yet another kiss. "Nah, I think I'll manage sleeping well enough. One of the things I'm good at, sleeping on ships."
"Good, then you can sleep then," Clara decides rather sunnily. "You don't need to sleep now, and I can be a mad scientist before calling Mother. Life works nicely." The kiss is returned yet again, rather carefully and with effort. At which point, the curtain falls. Zapping penguins, and all.
[In other words, Clara's player had to log off for a date with a dead guy, a long story all by itself]