4/26/99

Corian doesn't sleep, by the way. She's awake, she looks like she's been up and about to get cleaned up and change clothing. She also works--but she's on the bed next to you, the sound of her fingers on the keys of her laptop all but inaudible.

Tarrant does sleep, out like the proverbial light still, having not moved appreciably from the night before, a slightly curled lump on the bed. He is snooze, hear him snore? Except he doesn't, snore that is.

Corian glances over occasionally to make sure that you've still not moved. The computer isn't making any noise or flashing any lights, so she must have muted and dimmed stuffs. She'll hear about that from it later, to be sure. Anyway, she works, mostly without interruption.

Tarrant does eventually stir, although it's a faint movement at first, obviously moving is a tricky thing to figure out for a moment. He does figure it out at last however, half-stretching and stifling a yawn.

Corian looks over with a smile, and sets aside the machine. "Good afternoon, cha'trez. How are you feeling?"

"Urf," is Tarrant's exceptionally coherent reply. He struggles free of a blanket and then shifts to sit upright. "Morning, I'm alive and all. How're you?"

Corian reaches for a pillow to tuck behind you. "Fine, love, I am just fine--just getting a bit of work done." She gestures towards the abandoned computer. "Do you want anything?"

Tarrant murmurs quiet thanks, and sinks against the provided pillow. "No, but I appreciate the offer. I'll wake up here in a few, honest. Then I'll make more sense." He glances at his watch and just blinks, "Oh good grief..."

Corian shakes her head slightly. "You must have needed the sleep," she says, with a quick smile. "Just relax, love. Everything is fine."

Tarrant does relax back, reaching up to rub at his eyes with a quiet chuckle. "Sorry, just panicked a bit about the time. But if my comm's not gone and had a fit, I guess it's of no matter."

Corian nods her agreement to that. "When you're feeling a bit more awake," she suggests, "Why not comm down and let them know that you are going to need a little time off?"

"That'll go over like a house a'fire, but yeah, it sounds like a good idea." Tarrant runs an absent hand through his hair, causing it to stick up at odd angles, but somehow looking more alert in the process. "Still, it's either annoy them, or go through all that again, and I think I'd rather the former than the latter by a long shot."

Corian's hands twitch a bit, but she doesn't set your hair to rights. "It most certainly is," she agrees. She gets to her feet and disappears into the other room, returning with some iced tea--two glasses. One is deposited on the table on your side of the bed, and she keeps the other. "You need a break to mend, love. I am certain that Clara would say the same."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant looks decidedly grateful at the brought tea, "Thank you love." He reaches to take the glass, taking a long sip. "Seeing as I really don't want to have the knee replaced outright, I'm willing to take the time. Besides, I can always use the excuse I've clocked more hours than any of them have, or will, and I'm owed the time."

Corian nods firmly to that last, with a quick smile and a murmured, "You are welcome. And I daresay you are very much owed time off, love. I fear to ask how much vacation you actually -took- in all that time."

"Ahh, some here or there. It depended on where I was assigned." Tarrant grins rather ruefully as he makes inroads into his tea and the caffiene therein. "Some worlds I wanted off of as quickly as I could rather than hanging about to see the sights."

Of course, knowing Corian, it's entirely possible that the tea is decaf. Of course, it isn't--just hers is. "I can empathize with that, yes," she says, with a quick smile. "There are some planets that are much preferable to others." How's that for an obvious statement? With a brief gesture for the kitchen, she inquires, "Would you like anything else? It is no trouble, really."

Tarrant shakes his head lightly, draining the glass. "Not just yet, although I appreciate the offer. Caffeine and then a foray into the wild and wooly land of a hot shower and real clothing seems to be my agenda for the moment. Food I can give a miss just yet."

Corian nods to that, though with a hint of concern. "You are not hungry? Are you feeling all right? And I can run down to your quarters and get clothing for you, if you like--if you would rather not go so far."

"I'm not really hungry no, although the main of that may because I'm craving a shower so badly, food seems kinda trivial." Tarrant chuckles sheepishly, "I'm feeling okay, really." He looks decidedly grateful, "Couldja' please? I'd about sell my soul for honest-to-goodness clean clothes."

Corian nods to your question, with a quick smile. "Of course I can," she says, getting to her feet. "As a matter of fact, I can do so now, so that you can get that shower. And I would not even charge a soul for it."

Tarrant replies rather softly, regarding you fondly. "A good thing that, as I've already given you mine, and hence would have nothing to offer as payment."

Corian's smile at that is bright, and decidedly sappy. She stays on her feet, despite a look that suggests she'd like to do otherwise, but instead just leans down to kiss your cheek. "Where once I was whole," she murmurs softly, "Dim, hard to remember--now I'm only half." Her fingertips brush the place where she kissed, and then she straightens, looking maybe just a bit sheepish. "I will be back soon, cha'trez."

Tarrant doesn't look sheepish, he looks rather sickeningly in love. Good grief, bees will be living in the walls of this apartment at this rate. He nods, "I look forward to your return, thank you for this favor, love."

Corian casts a smile that, for all its brevity, is warm and decidedly fond. "It is no problem, love." And with that, she exits the room. Really. She does.

While you're gone, Tarrant begins the process of disentangling himself from the covers, and double checking all those evil snaps to make sure they're in place before you return.

And, after time passes, Corian does return, with clean clothing. "Do you want me just to put this in the bathroom for you, love?" she inquires. "And will you be able to get in there all right?"

Tarrant looks altogether grateful indeed, and nods as he begins levering himself to his feet. "I'd appreciate that. I think I can manage it all right. Thanks."

Corian disappears into the bathroom to tuck the clothing onto a counter there. "There are fresh towels and such there as well," she says, upon emerging. And, yes, she's a fan of those massive towels. She moves to your side, not quite assisting, but ready to be there if that--or catching--is necessary.

Tarrant's concentration is quite taken up by walking, although he manages it well enough, limping carefully. He makes it to the bathroom, bringing up a hand to let his weight rest against the door so he can murmur his thanks before ducking into the other room and closing the door. After several moments, the sound of water running begins.

Corian snags her computer and puts it on the table by the couch, then heads into the kitchen to cobble together some food. Miracle of miracles, she's somehow managed to acquire bacon, and she's even sullying one of her pans by -cooking- it. Oh, the horror. But it smells good.

Tarrant returns after a long while, damp but clean, carrying his folded scrubs. "Hot water's amazing, I feel much more..." He trails off as he scents bacon. "Oh my, yumm..."

Corian calls from the kitchen, her smile audible in her voice, "I ducked out and got it this morning, love--thought you might want something special today. If you give me a minute, I'll turn out some eggs, too--how would you like them?"

Tarrant limps over to the bed, balancing with little difficulty on one leg to tug up the covers and set about neatening it. "But isn't that bad, I mean being a vegetarian and all?" He does however add, "Scrambled would be amazing, I can cook them though if you'd rather."

Corian chuckles quietly. "But my eating habits should not determine what -you- eat. That is hardly fair. You like bacon, yes? So it is hardly a sacrifice on my part to make bacon. I need not eat it. And I can manage the eggs as well. Scrambling is quite simple, after all." She peers around from the kitchen to chide, "Do stop cleaning, love, and sit down, please?"

Tarrant finishes twitching the covers into place, and then makes his way to the couch, sinking onto it with a quiet sigh. "Sitting, I'm sitting. I just wanted to try and do -something-. I dislike being a pest."

Corian ducks back into the kitchen. "You are not being a pest," she replies, with a smile. "You are recovering from your second knee surgery in far too short a time. That is hardly being a pest." Cooking sounds emerge as well, throughout Corian's chattering.

Tarrant carefully shifts his leg in front of him, sitting otherwise normally. "Just cause there's a why, doesn't make me any less a pest. Just because you love me, doesn't mean you want to have to share space with me so often."

Corian comes out with a tray--easier than juggling plates and glasses and all--holding plates with bacon and eggs and toast and orange juice. "Happy breakfast," she says, as she settles down the tray. "And it is not a question of -having- to share space, cha'trez. I enjoy being with you. And, after all, you need someone to look after you," she adds, teasing gently.

Tarrant takes a long sniff, "Oh love, it smells wonderful, thank you. I swear, died and gone to heaven." He shifts to acquire his plate and a fork. He's southern, eggs and bacon end up mixed in with pieces of toast, although he's polite about it at least. "Thank you so much." He hmphs softly, chuckling. "I am not the only one."

Corian nods her agreement as she settles to a seat, expression amused. "I do, as well, yes," she replies. "We can take turns looking after each other, like the protection." Her own food is not mixed, and the bacon is avoided, but she eats heartily enough. "And you are welcome, of course, cha'trez. It was hardly any work at all."

Tarrant munches in blissful silence a moment, simply nodding. "Sounds fair enough to me. Taking turns...Wonderful food. I swear, you're lucky you ever get rid of me at all."

Corian flickers a quick smile to you, eating neatly. "It is not a question of ridding myself of you, love," she replies. "How often will I have to say that I am glad that you are here?"

Tarrant shakes his head lightly to that as he spears a bite of egg and toast. "My mother always says that guests are like fish, after about three days, they get old and need to be thrown out."

Corian blinks at that, then laughs quietly. With a shake of her head, she says, "But, Tarrant, you are not a guest. You are van'chela, and cha'trez--you are the love of my life. You could hardly be a guest. All that I have... all that I am is yours."

Tarrant chuckles softly, as he makes further inroads on his meal. "I just don't want you getting tired of me is all. Paranoid, that would be me."

Corian shakes her head to that. "There is no need to be paranoid, love. I am not -going- to tire of you." She waves a fork at you, mock-threatening. "You just need to stop hurting, love. That is all."

Tarrant settles his plate down at last, nodding. "I can give it a shot. It feels better than it did the first time Clara sliced into it."

Corian takes up both plates, though she leaves the glasses, and goes into the kitchen. "Better is certainly a good switch, yes." She pauses a beat, then adds, "Cha'trez, you -will- take the pain medication when it hurts, though, yes?"

Tarrant nods to the question, "Of course, love. The only reason I didn't take it the time before was that I was afraid to be out of it just then. I wanted to be with you."

Accompanied by the sounds of cleaning and putting away-ing, Corian calls, "I can understand after I got back, of course, cha'trez--I would not have wanted to have my wits dulled, when confronted with someone who behaved as I did. But I do not understand why you had not already taken the medication by then. Even I was uncertain when I would return."

"It had just been twelve hours when you got home. I'd been about to get up to snag something to take them with." Tarrant explains, fumbling in the pocket of the jacket in fact for said small bottle. "And then, well, I got distracted."

Corian comes back from the kitchen and takes a seat next to you. "I -am- sorry about that," she says, sounding decidedly contrite. "I did not know that the situation would be as it was. If I had, I would not have taken the ev'lis."

Tarrant fumbles out a couple of the pills, downing them with his drink and nodding. "You had no way of knowing. You'd used it before with no problem and all. It's the Jansites fault."

Corian nods her agreement to that, lips thinning briefly. "I have a meeting scheduled with the head of their delegation in a few days. Hopefully, they will have some answers--or will at least stop trying to block my additional employment."

Nodding, Tarrant settles back. "And if they don't, -then- do I get to poke them in the eyes?"

Corian considers that for a moment, then shakes her head slowly. "I am afraid not, cha'trez," she says, reaching to take your hand. "For I believe that would only serve to make the situation worse. I do not believe that even my supporters would look kindly on me if I advocated violence."

Tarrant takes your hand, sighing in melodramatic exasperation, an amused look in his grayish eyes. "Awww, nobody ever lets me poke -anybody- in the eyes anymore. I swear, you'd think it was rude or something."

Corian laughs very quietly. "If I find anyone worthy of eye-poking," she says, giving you a fond look, "Then I will certainly let you know. You will be the first I tell, I promise." She shifts a bit closer to you, albeit a little hesitantly.

Tarrant shifts an arm up and around you carefully as you move closer, shifting a bit closer himself. The drugs are starting to kick in, and his pupils are perhaps disproportionately large. "I'd appreciate that," he notes amiably. "Ones eye poking skills become altogether rusty if not used often enough."

Corian snuggles against you with a soft sigh. "It is not a difficult thing to do, of course. And, of course, you cannot let your eye-poking skills become rusty." She considers for a moment, then says, "Let me see how the meeting goes. If it looks like I will not get the job anyway, who knows..."

Tarrant stifles a soft laugh as he snuggles in a bit closer, disentangling the held hand enough so that he can rub at one eye. "We'll see. Maybe I can find somebody else to poke. Poking's fun." The hand used to rub his eye shifts to try to poke you in the ribs, heading for a ticklish spot. "See?"

Corian stifles a yelp. "Tarrant!" She squirms away from you with a laugh, making a grab for your hand as she does so. "The last time you did that, we ended up chasing each other around the bed." Oh, for Kathlyn to hear -that-. "I do not know that you could manage that just now."

Tarrant is willing to let his hand be captured, grinning in a decidedly goofy fashion. "Probably not. I shall endeavour, somehow or another, to behave. I guess one isn't supposed to torment beautiful women."

Corian ducks her head just a bit at that, shaking it back and forth fractionally. "You may torment me if you like, my love. But, you see, I am likely to torment you in return, and I would rather not do anything that could lead to injury."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"And that's n'fun of course, tormenting if you can't torment back any." Tarrant edges in cloe to you again. "Being without a proper knee makes many things trickier. But it'll all get back in place soon enough. And then I can engage in knee needing activities."

Corian curls up lightly against you. "Once your knee has recovered, yes, you may tickle me all you like." She pauses a beat, then, as if realizing what she just said, and shakes her head. "It hasn't been hurting as it was before Clara took care of that infection, has it?"

Tarrant flashes you a rather bright grin, looking bemused. "I'll remember that," he murmurs. He shakes his head, "Nope, not hurting really at all just at the moment. Took the happy pain killers. The world is very vague. But it's a nice kind of vague. You're here."

Corian sighs rather melodramatically at your murmur. "Well, it will motivate your recovery, at least," she murmurs, with a quiet chuckle. "And I am glad that the vagueness is nice. Is there anythign that I can do to make it nicer?"

Tarrant is -almost- unable to resist such a perfect line, shifting as if to move from the couch, but he bites back on the impulse, instead shifting back to his former position. "Love, life is wonderful. I have never known wonder such as this in fact, not in my life the way I do with you."

Corian casts a near-dazzling smile at you. See the reward for resisting temptation. "I was not fishing for a compliment--I thought you might be thirsty. But I am glad that I did say it." She kisses your cheek lightly, and settles back against you, adding softly, "It really is amazing, is it not?"

Tarrant looks rather sheepish, temptation resisting aside. He's not good at resisting temptation. He shifts a little closer to you, swiping heat. "It is. More amazing than anything I've ever known. I hadn't even -known- things could be this way."

Corian nods her agreement to that, the gesture likely felt more than seen. "I thought Hona was just being silly," she says softly. "But she had this--this is what she meant. It really has to be the most wonderful thing in the world."

"Wonderful, and nice...and comfortable." Tarrant's words are a little more heavily accented than before. He pauses a moment and then asks, "Love, if you don't mind me asking, where do you want to be a year from now?"

Corian considers that for a moment. "I am uncertain," she says finally. "Cha'trez, this is the longest I have been in one place since I was almost twenty-two years old. I have not planned that far ahead in quite some time."

Tarrant ahhs softly in understanding, half-nodding. "Kinda what I figured. I just thought I'd see. The future's awful hazy, I guess."

Corian nods her agreement to that. "So much depends on just what I will be doing at the time," she murmurs. "I will be with you, though, if I have anything to say about it."

Tarrant nods to that, half-hugging you close. "As long as you will have me, I will be there. I love you, and want nothing more than to be with you."

Corian returns the embrace, keeping her arm draped over you after it finishes. "Well, then," she says lightly, "We will just have to convince the people in the Department to post us together, then, once I finish my contract here."

"There are certainly ways to convince them to do so. Formally partnering up, they have forms for that, do they not? I never was more than temporarily partnered, so I could not count myself as certain." Tarrant murmurs, sounding a little more sozzed as he gets warmer and more comfortable.

Corian nods to that, after a brief pause. "I believe that they do, yes, though I am not altogether certain. I only worked on the teams, with the group."

"Not that that'll prevent them from trying to fool with things, but it'd be worth a try." Tarrant murmurs softly.

Corian nods her agreement to that, with a brief, rather rueful chuckle. "It would be worth a try," she echoes. "It would be... a layer of protection, I suppose."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"Not that you'd likely want to work with me too regularly for that matter. You know the foolishness I get into," Tarrant murmurs softly.

Corian shakes her head fractionally. "It is silly, and somewhat pretentious, but I would know that you were safe if we were together. If there are ways that I can help you in your work, then I would like to do so."

Tarrant nods to that, smiling at you rather fondly, "I'd hardly be likely to object to having you near to hand." He pauses a moment, "You've decided on the Department then?"

Corian nods to that. "If they will accept me back into the ranks," she says slowly, "Yes, I have." She pauses for a moment, then inquires, "Do you think that they would keep us posted here?"

"Love, they'd snap you up in a heartbeat. They don't get many folks with your linguistic skills..." Tarrant considers that question a moment, "I don't see why they wouldn't. They've not got me marked for transfer any time soon. And I put in a request the other day not to be so."

Corian, a smile audible in her voice, says softly, "It would be pleasant to remain here--though it could potentially cause difficulties, as well. Perhaps if I also continued to work part-time for the delegates,' she muses.

"Difficulties?" Tarrant asks softly, his voice steadily lower.

Corian murmurs, with a hint of wry humor, "I would prefer that Riley's illusions about me remain intact."

Tarrant ahhs in understanding, considering a moment. "Well, the department does have a top level use. Just tell him you're translatin' for the Interior Department. Innocent enough."

Corian nods slowly to that. "I suppose that would work," she murmurs thoughtfully. "It could possibly explain the absences as well--though that depends on how much Riley sees."

"Or how much he wants t'see," Tarrant replies quietly. "Lotsa' times, well...Folks do most of their deludin to themselves."

Corian nods her agreement to that. "I hope," Corian says, voice quiet and holding just a hint of humor, "That he only wishes to see what -I- wish him to see."

Tarrant chuckles quietly, nodding to that as he brings up a hand to your hair, gently brushing his fingers along it. "If all fares well. Still, he is your brother, he will love you any whicha' way."

Corian shivers very briefly, though she doesn't seem to object to the hair-brushing. "I hope that he will, yes," she replies softly. "I know how Hona feels about that sort of thing, and I should think that Riley would be the same way, but... well, hoping and knowing are not quite the same thing."

"You could ask Honalee?" Tarrant suggests softly, fingers still moving gently. "Maybe she would know?"

Corian nods once more, managing to sit still for the attention to her hair. "If anyone would know, I believe it would be Hona," she replies. "She knows Riley somewhat better than I do, I believe."

Tarrant's fingers shift down from your hair to your back, tracing absent designs. "Then you could call'er and ask sometime. It'd be good." He's more than a hair out of it. "Good's good."

"Later," Corian replies. "I will comm her later. I currently have no desire to move. This is far, far too comfortable."

"Is comfortable, yeah. Warm. I'm worse than an iguana." Except of course Tarrant is not big and green and does not wish to attack poor passerby in pet stores.

Corian murmurs softly, crisp diction starting to blur, "You are not an iguana, cha'trez. I would not be able to have you meet Hona if you were. She is very accepting, but I believe that even she might have difficulty if her great-grandchild were in love with an iguana."

"They'd letcha' on the talk shows though..." Tarrant muses softly, "Just meant warm is good."

Corian nods her agreement to that. "We could go curl up in bed?" she suggests. "The blankets are warm. Of course, that would also mean moving."

"Moving's bad. But you sound tired, and I know I'm be-gone. Might be a worthy investment of energy," Tarrant's reply is quiet indeed. "Warm, and we wouldn't have to move later."

Corian considers for a moment, then nods, shifting away from you to get to her feet. She offers a hand, then, lifting her free hand to cover a sudden killer attack-yawn. (When Roberti Benigni Yawns?) "The thought of not having to move later is a good one."

Tarrant accepts the hand, squeezing it lightly as he climbs to his feet. Gaining them he pauses a moment to blink and gain balance, "Whoah, not drugs that want you to get up quickly. Warm bed, yup, lovely idea. Lay on, MacDuff."

Corian waits a moment longer to make certain that you are steady, then heads beyond the screen to the bed. She does release your hand while she pulls off her shoes. Murmuring something about being right back, she ducks into the bathroom. Quack.

Corian waits a moment longer to make certain that you are steady, then heads beyond the screen to the bed. She does release your hand while she pulls off her shoes. Murmuring something about being right back, she ducks into the bathroom. Quack.

Tarrant limps to the bed, although it does not seem to be as tricky as before, excepting vague balance. He sits on the edge of the bed, shrugging off his jacket.

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

After a few minutes and a bit of running water, Corian comes out of the bathroom and moves to her side of the bed. "Much better," she murmurs, likely referring to her more bedworthy clothing.

Tarrant has clambered down beneath the blankets in your absence, and has your side of the covers turned down. He smiles at you fondly, "So amazingly lovely..."

Corian curls under the blankets and tugs them up to her chin. "Thank you. I am glad that you think so, cha'trez," she replies, with a smile. And, naturally, she moves closer to you.

"M'not the only one," Tarrant says quietly as he snuggles in close, shifting an arm over you. "Everybody drooling at the ball..."

Corian wrinkles her nose a bit at that. "That was because of that ridiculous dress, though," she replies. "People ordinarily do not drool over me--and a good thing, too. That would make the floor slippery."

"It was a lovely dress. And that was just cause people could finally see how lovely you are. I knew without that though." Tarrant's words are rather slurred. "Looked past you wanting to hide."

Corian pauses for a moment. "It is not hiding, love," she murmurs. "It is just... well, no, all right, I suppose it -is- hiding. But I am more comfortable that way." She kisses your cheek, then, finally saying softly, "Thank you, cha'trez, for your kind words. You sound tired."

"S'long as you're happy, y'should hide all you like." Tarrant curls a bit closer to you. "I'll hide you. Yeah, I'm tired. The drugs are tired-making."

Corian nods to that, a smile briefly lighting her face. "I am happy," she reassures. "Especially when you are near. If you are tired, though, perhaps you should sleep?"

"Can't hurt, even if it's the drugs," Tarrant replies, still managing Standard, though with effort. "G'night love. May you find your dreams among the stars."

Corian cuddles just a bit closer to you. "I would prefer that my dreams find me right here," she says, starting to sound a bit drowsy. "Here in bed, next to you."

"Like that idea," Tarrant murmurs, his last coherant words before sinking into a curled slumber.

Corian watches you for a few moments, but not very long, before she, too, drifts off to sleep.


Back