4/15/99

Tarrant stirs somewhat, once again having to try and figure out just where the heck he is, and what the heck is going on. Uh-oh, he's in Corian's bed, he'd forgotten that bit of rudeness. Whoops.

Corian is curled up on the couch, laptop on her... well, yes, her lap. With the screen gone, she can keep an eye on you from there. She's working on something, apparently, as her fingers are flickering lightly over her machine's keyboard. As you stir, however, she glances up with a smile, removing earbuds from her ears. She takes a moment before she actually speaks, perhaps to figure out what language to use. "Good evening," she says softly.

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"Evening," Tarrant echoes, attempting with limited success to sit up, ruffling through his hair absently. "Sorry about that, just got decidedly tired all of a sudden."

Corian unfolds herself gracefully from her seat, tucking the terminal on the table, and moves to your side to help in the sitting up process. "If you were tired, then it is good that you slept. And it gave me a chance to get together a bit of work. How are you feeling?"

Tarrant accepts the help, although he looks perhaps a little sheepish at needing it. Once upright however he seems to be a bit steadier than before. "All right, a little wobbly still, but nothing hurts or anything. A decidedly better outlook on the world than I probably deserve, but you're nit likely to catch me complaining. A shower and food really have improved my outlook on existance."

Corian chuckles quietly at that as she perches on the edge of the bed. "I can understand that, certainly. Would you like anything? There is much more food, and beverages as well."

Tarrant shakes his head slightly, "No, not just at the moment, although I appreciate the offer. I feel almost human actually." He grins in an amused fashion, "Which considering I am only 'almost' human, I guess is about as good as it gets. Sleep cures everything I guess. And being here with you."

Corian smiles at that, reaching tentatively for your hand. "Well," she says, voice quiet but rather whimsical, "I am not even almost human. But being with you... yes, that is wonderful."

Tarrant reaches for your hand in return, carefully enfolding it in both of his, regarding your far smaller hand with a sort of awed wonder. You've been here all along, but the haziness is fading, and you're -still- here. "Thank you," he replies softly. "For staying with me, and then letting me stay here, and all in all just for being."

Of course Corian is here. It's -her- room, after all. She doesn't say that, though, and likely doens't even think it. "You are most welcome," she replies, with a fond smile. She drops her gaze briefly to the hands as well, perhaps noting the size difference as well. "I am glad that you agreed to stay. Your quarters, after all, are hardly the place to recover."

"I need to arrange another place," Tarrant looks rather sheepish, "For while there is no place I'd rather be than here with you, I'd really rather not be an imposition. And unless you're willing to cede the sleeping on the couch issue, I most assuredly am one."

Corian says lightly, with a smile, "That can wait until tomorrow, yes? If Maintenance has kept you waiting this long, they will not be able to come up with something so late."

Tarrant sighs softly, looking somewhat bemused and perhaps a little exasperated, "Yeah, probably. Not to mention, while I feel a lot better, I don't know if I want to move things tonight. Not that it'd take more than twenty minutes. I am at something of an impass. I really, really, really do not wish to go. You're here. But then again, I do not like this idea of stealing your bed."

Corian says pleasantly, "It isn't necessary for you to like the idea, van'chela. I will be fine on the couch. I end up sleeping there some nights anyway; it is quite comfortable. Please... stay here. I would worry if you were gone, as you are still not fully recovered." See? She'd probably stay awake if she were worried, and then you'd have her sleepless night on your conscience.

Tarrant really needs some buttons that are not so easily pressed. He didn't have this problem -before-, but you of course can poke them quite neatly. He looks chagrined, gently rubbing his thumb against the bac of your hand again. "I won't go anywhere. I have already caused enough worry."

Corian is evil and manipulative and knows -exactly- where those buttons are located. Be glad she's on your side. "Thank you," she says, with a warm smile. "I will be glad to have you here." She regards you for a moment, expression giddily fond for a moment, then glances away, perhaps embarrassed by the expression. "Mycroft is no longer upset," she says lightly, gesturing briefly towards her computer as she changes the subject. "I took him down to the library for a little while, while you were asleep. I do hope you didn't wake."

Tarrant returns the look, almost in echo, altogether and deeply stunned, overjoyed, and just altogether pleased with the universe as a whole. "No, I'm hardly going to object. It won't do after all to have him offended, and I can't build -him- a treehouse." Tarrant grins in decided amusement, "And no, I did not wake up. In fact I slept better than I have in a while."

"Wonderful," Corian replies, looking decidedly pleased. "I am very glad to hear that. The sleep must have been good for you." Flicking another, amused glance at the computer, she adds, tone lightly jesting, "You never know. He might appreciate a treehouse."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant glances to the computer as well, expression thoughtful. "Maybe if there were a dataport in the treehouse..."

Corian blinks at that, then shakes her head. "That is hardly necessary, Tarrant," she says, tone amused. "He will survive quite nicely without experiencing a treehouse."

Tarrant grins in a rather impish fashion, "Still, if it got you to spend more time there..." He pauses a moment, "Although, I suppose how much random working in treehouses you would do would depend on your choice as to Saaranus's offer."

Corian shakes her head slightly to that. "Oh, it is not a case of working one job or the other, Tarrant," she says, expression thoughtful. "I would still continue as translator, but spend a few afternoons each week with the children, as well, so I would still have need of Mycroft for work."

Tarrant ahhs quietly, regarding you thoughtfully as he gently squeezes your hand in the both of his. "Have you put any thought as to your feelings on the job offer?"

"I would love to work with children again," Corian replies, expression thoughtful. "It has been quite some time, and it would be very refreshing, I think--especially as I would be working with the youngest set." As in... the class that contains both Xalin and Addie. Bwaha. "But I will need to see how this would change how I perform my current job."

Fingers gently, and absently, stroking the back of your hand and wrist, Tarrant nods. "And if it would overly affect your schedule. Forgive me, but you have a propensity to work long hours as it is. You don't want to overdo it."

Corian doesn't deny your words, of course. "I work long hours," she says, with a smile, "When my time is not needed elsewhere. I... well, will that be the case, now?"

"I would spend every moment with you if I could, and certainly would be more than willing to pull you away from work if I could get away with it," Tarrant replies with a sheepish grin, "Still though, it is good to be careful of such things."

Corian, with a sheepish smile of her own, replies, "You may well need to do that, I am afraid. Much of my tendency to work long hours comes from the simple fact that I easily lose track of time while I am working. I will try not to do that, but sometimes, with the more involved translations, that is difficult to avoid."

"You shall simply have to poke me however if my intrusions become annoying," Tarrant continues gently tracing patterns across the back of your hand. "But otherwise I think I can poke my nose in as needed, and generally be a pest."

Corian shakes her head once more, smile warming. "I will do so, but I find it unlikely that you will become annoying to me, Tarrant--or a pest, for that matter. I will be glad to see you, even if I am unable to stop work when you drop by the office."

"And dropping by your office is so easy," Tarrant muses, with a grin, "Since most times it seems to be in the hall. A rather convenient location certainly, seeing as I have to pass it going to and from my own place of business."

Corian laughs quietly at that. "You know, that -is- convenient," she replies, all innocence. "I cannot help that I work more easily there--I did try working at my desk, you see, but I accomplished much less."

"Desks are deeply evil things, designed to keep people from enjoying life. Deskwork ought to be done somewhere else, so at least enjoyment can be derived from it that would normally be sucked out by a desk." Tarrant's fingers still bruhs along your hand, carefully memorizing every detail of it.

Corian nods her agreement to that. "I do use my desk for some work, but I hardly think it qualifies as such," she says, with a glance at the nifty little foldup desk, before she turns back to you with a warm, rather wondering smile. "This... this really is incredible, isn't it?" No, she's not talking about deskwork.

"Not a normal desk, certainly." At your questions Tarrant simply beams, altogether overjoyed. "It is..." He pauses a moment, although his fingers do not. "I have never felt like this in my entire life. I did not even know it was possible to feel this way."

Corian murmurs softly, "Hona was right." Then she repeats, a bit more loudly, "Hona was right. I was not living, and now I am alive, because of you." She shakes her head, then, expression whimsically amused. "She will definitely wish to meet you now, though, when she is able to travel here."

"Two people, whole each and of themselves, but still only half of another whole..." Tarrant murmurs softly, "I feel rather sorry for the rest of the universe however, that it does not have a you to love." He grins in decided amusement, "I suppose I must behave when she arrives now, though."

Corian smiles rather brightly at your first statement, her nod suggesting that she agrees. head ducking as you continue, she says, "You should be yourself, Tarrant. Hona will enjoy saying things that will make me turn entertaining colors."

"Entertaining colors?" Tarrant can't help but perk up at that. "Well then I shall have to be as terribly evilly me as always, perhaps a form of protection. We cannot have my lady love being tormented so."

Corian shakes her head at your up-perking, expression decidedly amused. "You know, I think I may just put the two of you in the same room and then go hide somewhere else. If you are both going to be evil... well, I do not know that I would be able to handle that." She's teasing, though, obviously, and she gets a rather silly smile at your last statement.

Tarrant chuckles quietly, once again simply watching your hand in his, awestruck. "We will have to be evil in moderation. Although locking us in a room together might certainly have entertaining results."

Tarrant chuckles quietly, once again simply watching your hand in his, awestruck. "We will have to be evil in moderation. Although locking us in a room together might certainly have entertaining results."

Corian, with another amused headshake, observes, "I believe that entertaining is something of an understatement, though she would likely save the worst of the comments to utter in my presence." Like the one about getting laid. "It will be worth the potential embarrassment, though, to see her again."

"Family is often embarrassing, it is simply the way of the Universe." Tarrant pauses a moment, looking somewhat bemusedly worried. "Ack, Sarah's going to poke me a lot."

Corian blinks, her own expression growing concerned. "What is the matter, Tarrant?"

Tarrant grins reassuringly, shaking his head, "Nothing is the matter, please, do not worry. Excepting the fact that my sister will torment me terribly about this particular state of affairs."

Corian ahhs very quietly, her expression clearing. "Of course she will," she replies equably. "That is the job of a sister, after all--to torment."

"Yeah, but it is also the job of brothers to attempt to -avoid- torment," Tarrant grins rather impishly. "Besides, I'm her -older- brother. Isn't there supposed to be some respect in there someplace?"

Corian shakes her head to your statement, and then more to her inquiry. "I am afraid you are mistaken," she replies cheerfully. "Respect is not inherent in this particular relationship--torment is."

Tarrant sighs in mock despair, "Then I am doomed indeed, considering the amount of teasing I heaped upon her when she fell in love with Grant. I was, well, an older brother."

Corian starts to make an amused comment, but then she apparently realizes something, as she comes up short, and sighs. "We -would- have to do this," she murmurs, "In a location where -two- of my brothers live, not to mention a cousin."

Tarrant stifles a laugh, or rather he tries to, it's a poor attempt. "Should I begin running now? Am I likely to be attacked by overprotective kin?"

Corian considers that for a moment, then shakes her head. "I do not believe so, no," she replies, with a short laugh. "Though I must admit that I do not know the younger ones quite well enough to judge for sure." Her eyes gleaming with mirth, she adds, "Be glad that my sister is not here--though perhaps she will be able to visit, at some point."

"Should I build sister-proof doors onto this treehouse in planning then?" Tarrant questions in decided amusement, "So that I may cower from her wrath?"

Corian, with another headshake, says quiet seriously, "That is unnecessary, Tarrant. I can protect you, as much as anyone can be protected from Evvy."

"Isn't that backwards somehow?" Tarrant muses, not at all serious of tone. "Aren't I supposed to be protecting you from the world, o lady fair?" He pauses a beat, looking amused, "Of course that would be a turnaround from precedent all too recently established..."

Corian doesn't release your hand, but does shift somewhat to brace herself with her other arm, so that she's leaning against it somewhat. After all, she didn't spend the evening napping. "The person who does the protecting should depend on who needs to be protected," she decides, with a smile. "We can take turns. After all," she adds, smile still present but her tone a little less amused, "I am hardly one of those women who always needs the protection of a man." Independant? No, not at all.

Tarrant shifts somewhat, attempting, albeit hesitantly, to offer himself as a backrest. "Taking turns sounds fair enough to me. Certainly having it one way or the other would get hopelessly muddled. Not to mention monotonous."

Corian takes a moment to consider your offer, then settles carefully against you, with a tentative smile. After a little while, she gradually relaxes, then says, "Monotonous... yes, it seems that it would be that. We cannot have monotony, most certainly not people like us."

Tarrant carefully shifts his arms around you, very hesitant indeed, as if afraid you will object. Not quite holding onto you, they are nevertheless to either side of you in of course the only really natural position under such circumstances. He's all but -exuding- contentment. "I should think that the most awful of terrors, being bored. But then I do not know if I can ever put my finger on a time in which I have been honestly bored. There is...too much out there."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian is rather hesitant as well. It would likely make an amusing picture. "I can remember one time in particular in which I was bored," she says, voice lightly amused. She's not at all conscious of how close she is to you. Really. She's not. "But, yes, as a rule, there is generally too much to do to be bored."

Tarrant is trying not to scare you further, he most assuredly does not want you to move. Not only is it warm, it's you after all. He is rather altogether relaxed, despite being nervous, his body isn't going to let him be otherwise. "One time in particular?"

Corian's voice is starting to take on just a hint of her Kashidian accent, a sure sign that she's getting tired. She sounds fairly alert, though, as she replies, "It is rather amusing, now, though I was most upset at the time. I did not agree with the literature class that I took the year I was thirteen, and was miserably bored through much of it."

Tarrant has a sleepy Corian leaning against him, chalk this one up on the 'exceptionally content' board. "Didn't agree with it? Obviously not with literature as a whole, knowing ya', what was it about this class?" Maybe discussing something that was hence boring will make her sleepier. He can at least -try- to be sneaky too.

"It was the instructor," Corian replies, accent disappearing as she makes an effort to sound more awake. Of course, it returns--the accent, that is--as she continues. "He had a very low, soothing voice, and some rather odd theories, many of which did not allow for teenagers with the ability to think--as his assignments often suggested. He was," she adds thoughtfully, "Not originally from Kashid."

"Does he teach there still?" Tarrant's own accent is somewhat more pronounced as well, but partially because he's lowered his voice somewhat, his question coming as almost a soft rumble from behind you, the drawl feathering the words soothingly together.

Corian shakes her head. "I do not believe so," she murmurs, half a yawn inserted along with one of the vowels. "I believe that Father wrote me of his departure from the school. I was," she adds, a hint of amused irony in her tone, "Quite disappointed."

"I think," Tarrant murmurs softly, voice still rather quiet, each word more felt than heard. "Perhaps it is time you got some sleep, my love. You're worn out."

Corian is tired, but not so much that she doesn't smile at the endearment. "Sleep is an excellent idea," she murmurs. And, of course, she starts to get up, though she does pause once she's sitting upright.

Tarrant reaches out a hand, resting it gently on your arm, "Why don't you stay here. I slept for hours, I can go sit on the couch and you can sleep here in your own bed."

Corian shakes her head to that. Alas, your words are the driving force to get her to stand, so she can say, "But you are already there, cha'trez, and I am nearly to the couch. Besides, it is hardly right for me to take the bed when you have been injured."

Tarrant looks rather dejected as you stand, sort of a kicked puppy look. "I really am much better though, than I was even a few hours ago. Most of my problem was the drugs I think, while I'm grateful to them, they were hardly good for balance."

Corian hasn't ever kicked a puppy, of course, but maybe she's seen such evil occur. In any event, she perches on the edge of the bed once more as she catches that look, resting her hand lightly on yours. "You are better, yes," she agrees. "I can tell that just from talking with you. But it is the principle of the matter."

Tarrant shifts his hand on top of yours, "But it is at cross-purposes with another principle. Please Corian, it would please me greatly not to put you out of your bed. Certainly I would feel less guilt about intruding as I do."

Corian regards you for a long moment, then points out, "But I am smaller than you are, Tarrant. The couch will be more comfortable for me than it would for you. You should not feel guilty, though--it is no intrusion, as I am glad to have you here."

"The fact that you are smaller doesn't mean a thing." Tarrant muses with a grin, "Gerard was smaller than I am too, and I had to share a tent with him once for three days. I -swear- he slept on top of me for goodness sake. He defied laws of physics taking up space." He pauses, "Pleeease Corian?" He slips from the side of the bed to kneel before you, movements slow, but capable, "I can grovel? Pleeeeeaaaaase?" Blink, blink, isn't he so pathetic and cute begging like this? Shouldn't he get to sleep on the couch?

Corian starts to protest that she takes up very little room when she sleeps, but, no, you're being pathetic and cute. "Tarrant, please, you should not be doing that," she starts. Only you -are- being cute and pathetic, and she's trying very hard to be objective. It isn't working. "All right," she relents finally. "But if you are uncomfortable, you will -tell- me, yes? And do please get up."

Tarrant clambers back up, sitting once again on the edge of the bed and looking altogether pleased. See, the puppy got his tennis ball, he's happy. "Thank you Corian, I do appreciate this indeed. And if I am uncomfortable, yes, I promise I will tell you."

Corian gets to her feet, expression amused and exasperated all at once. "You are thanking me for letting you sleep on the couch, rather than in a bed. Tarrant..." But she doesn't finish that sentence, instead getting an extra pillow and such from a cabinet. Yes, she has these things. She's prepared.

Tarrant clambers from the bed, pausing to make certain he's steady. He doesn't -feel- like he's going to fall over, but if he were to, well that would really set him back wouldn't it? He pads carefully to the couch, footsteps soundless in his bare feet. "No, see, I'm thanking you for letting me do something that makes me feel more comfortable."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian heads over to the couch as well, the better to make up the bed there. "Well, then," she replies, "You are welcome, and I am glad to make you more comfortable."

Of a necessity, Tarrant gets somewhat in the way of these couchly preperations, sinking down to sit on it, as while he's feeling a good deal better, sitting down is still hugely preferable to standing. "Like that last time I slept here, it'll be like that."

Corian pulls a blanket over you, though she's provided some more, on the off chance that you get cold. "I hope that you sleep well," she says, with a smile. She puts out a hand on the couch's arm, then leans down to squeeze your hand. "Sweet dreams. I love you." And that slow smile blossoms on her face once more.

As you pull the blanket over him, Tarrant shifts down onto the couch, tiredness hitting again with snakebite alacrity. Squeezing your hand in return he looks as thunderstruck as he was the first time he heard those words from you. "And I love you, fallen past all hope of recovery, with no desire to so."

Corian beams at your words, albeit tiredly, and brushes her fingers lightly across your cheek before she turns to head back to her bed. "Dream well," she murmurs, as she slips under the covers.

Tarrant obviously has all intent of doing just that, now that he is rather contentedly set up on the couch. It isn't long indeed before he's completely asleep again, snug as a bug in a rug.

Corian curls up on her side, watching you--but only for about ten minutes, as she, too, is quite sleepy, and she's in her bed, and all is right with the world.


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