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Corian is wide awake, of course, and curled up with her computer. Tap tap tap. She's working intently, and has accumulated a small stack of paperwork at her elbow.

Tarrant sleeps, or rather he has all morning, curled up beneath the blankets except for his left leg which is left straight. He stirs after a while, yawning. Blinking a few times he shifts around, moving to sit up.

Your movement distracts Corian from her work. Looking over with a smile, she inquires softly, "How are you feeling, cha'trez?"

Tarrant rubs at his eyes, working to clear them. At your words he looks up to grin at you in a lovesick fashion. "Wonderful, you're here after all."

Corian sets her computer aside, ignoring the fact that its screen turns rather red. "I am here, yes," she replies, slipping an arm lightly around you. "I would not be anywhere else. Would you like anything? Some tea?"

Tarrant shifts in close, returning the arm around after stretching a bit. "No, but I appreciate the offer." He twitches his left leg slightly, "Oh wow...that doesn't hurt."

Corian smiles cheerfully at that. "That is wonderful. Not hurting is certainly a definite plus. And it has been longer than twelve hours, yes?"

Tarrant nods to the question, still regarding his leg in some mild confusion. "It is very odd indeed. It -always- hurts in the morning. There's a law." Gingerly he bends the leg up, "Hardly a thing. Dang..."

Corian watches the leg-bending with a fond smile. "Well, Tarrant, the surgery -was- supposed to make it hurt less. I was not expecting it quite so soon, but it looks like it worked."

Tarrant looks rather sheepish, ducking his head. "But to be honest, I didn't think it would -work-." He slides his legs over the side of the bed.

Corian chuckles very quietly. "I suppose I can understand that. After all, it has bothered you for quite some time."

Tarrant slides from the bed to his feet, standing a moment before he sits back down. "That still doesn't feel so great, but hey, maybe in a few days."

Corian nods her agreement to that. "I would suggest crutches," she says, with a whimsical grin, "But, well, you are a weapon of mass destruction on crutches."

Tarrant stifles a sheepish laugh, reddening a bit at the ears. "I don't know what it is, my balance and crutches just do not seem to agree, nope. I can hop along like this well enough I suppose. Or rummage up a cane. It might be just as dangerous, but at least I could poke people with it."

Corian starts to nod to that, then pauses, lips quirking with amusement. "Just for the record, cha'trez, I doubt that would tickle." After a pause of consideration, she adds, "I have a cane--somewhere, but I believe it is still in storage on Kashid. A pity."

Tarrant chuckles quietly, shifting once again close to you. "I think I can refrain from poking you with sticks. It's much more fun to poke you with my fingers." He half-grins, "I think I'll be fine on my own two feet."

Corian curls up against you with a soft sigh of contentment. "Eventually you will, yes." She lifts her head to cast an almost impish smile at you. "And we managed an entire night without comming poor Clara. Perhaps we should celebrate."

Tarrant settles an arm around you, looking faintly amused. "Celebrating sounds like a good idea. Maybe by getting out of the building for a bit?" His eyes light as a thought occurs to him. "Ooh, perhaps this evening, I uh, could arrange a meal?"

Corian nods amiably to that. "If you like, of course you may. Are you sure you would be able to get out and about, though? I do not want you to do too much, too soon, after all."

Tarrant nods to the question, "Of course, of course. Clara just said to be cautious, and that I can manage." He leans in to attempt to gently steal a kiss. "I am afraid however, I must abandon you for a while at some point beforehand so that I can speak with those downstairs, and to ... arrange some things."

Corian seems rather pleased with the kiss-thievery, returning it in kind. "Of course," she replies, with a smile. "I should probably go collect all the messages that are likely accumulating for me at work, at some point, anyway."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant reaches a hand to your hair, gently brushing against it with the back of his hand. "Alas, yes, the real world must occasionaly intrude. Still, I shall attempt to make it up to you this evening."

Corian's shiver at the hair-touching is barely-perceptible, but still present. "There is no need for you to make anything up to me," she replies. "Though I will certainly be glad to spend this evening with you."

Tarrant is however a lot more alert than he was last night, and his hand ceases its movement, "I should not do that?" He questions, presumably asking about running his hands over your hair.

Corian shakes her head, her smile a bit sheepish. "If you like, you may. I am not altogether certain why I am reacting like that. It is... not quite unpleasant, just a little odd."

Tarrant ahhs softly, apparently deciding against doing so further, as he lets his fingers trail down your hair, along your neck to your collarbone and then moves the hand back. "I don't wish for you to be uncomfortable," he murmurs. "Odd sounds less than comfortable.

Corian's smile warms. She reaches for one of your hands, whichever one is handy. (Badum-bum.) "I do not know that I could ever be wholly uncomfortable, with you here. Even when I was so miserably cold, I still could have felt ever so much worse, if you had not been here."

"Yes, but I'd rather you be wholly comfortable rather that only partially so," Tarrant explains with a fond smile, interlacing his fingers through yours.

Corian chuckles very quietly. "I cannot say that I object to that, certainly," she replies, giving your hand a light squeeze. She takes a moment to consult her pocketwatch, then inquires, "How much time will you need to take care of your business?"

"A few hours most likely. It depends on the availability of certain items," Tarrant replies quietly, shifting his other hand to glance at his watch.

Corian flickers a quick smile to you. "Ah, you are being cryptic," she murmurs. "Fascinating. Well, whenever you feel you should get started, please do let me know."

"Yes," Tarrant answers with bemused sheepishness, "I am. But all will come clear. Promise." He hmms thoughtfully, "How long will you need for your work?"

Corian considers for a moment, that glint of amusement in her gray eyes fading to thoughtfulness. "Not as long as you will need, probably. It has been light, of late--or they are shunting my work to the other translators, I am not certain which is the case."

Tarrant leans down to attempt to steal another kiss, this one perhaps lingering a bit longer. Six seconds, shmix smeconds. He shifts back, "I should likely head out then, and arrange my affairs then."

Corian's smile is just a little bit sappy as you shift back, but she nods nonetheless. "Of course, love. Should I plan for any specific time?"

"Around five? The sun'll be just setting then, I think, it's nearly Tenthmonth." Tarrant asks, looking thoughtful.

Corian nods agreeably, if a bit quizzically. "I will be ready at five, then." After a brief pause, she inquires, "Where are we going to be dining?"

"I'm not certain yet," Tarrant replies rather sheepishly. "If you'd meet me in the park, at the treehouse tree?"

Corian nods to that, with a quick smile. "Of course, cha'trez. But... well, I hope that you will not go to too much trouble."

Tarrant slides from the bed to his feet carefully, offering a nearly normal sweeping bow. "It'll be just fine, trust me on this one."

Corian looks somewhat relieved by the sweeping bow. "Of course I trust you," she replies, sounding utterly sincere. "I just do not want you to do too much too soon."

"I won't," Tarrant answers, "I promise, I'll stay off the knee as much as

possible." He straightens, "See you later, love."

Corian nods once more, watching you fondly. "At five, by the treehouse tree, yes."

Tarrant nods once more, and with another more or less bow, this one with his hand over his heart, he heads out the door.

Tarrant leaves the room.

Tarrant has left.

[Much time passes.]

Hill Overlooking the Quarter

As may be implied, this hill overlooks the Java Quarter. As it's a fairly long hill, somewhat steep in places, it may be accessed by any number of stairways and ramps and paths worn in the grass.

The plateau atop the hill seems to have been preserved as some sort of public park, as trees abound, flowers are meticulously planted in neat and fussy arrangements, and cobblestone-free walkways lead to several different areas. In one, a particularly flat area has been paved for various forms of skating, and is much in use. In another, tables with checkerboard tops have been bolted to the ground--so they won't go for a walk, of course. Along the center of the plateau, surrounded by another of those fussy flower-arrangements, a long reflecting pool holds the reversed-image of the Complex. Of course, as several families of ducks have taken up residence in said pool, the image is often distorted, but isn't that the way it should be? On the opposite side of the pool from the skating area, a brightly-colored playground beckons to children of all ages, shapes, and sizes. At the end of the pool, facing the Complex, is a massive sculpture. And, as the makers of the park realize that children have needs that sometimes strike suddenly, restrooms and water fountains are available at the far end of the plateau.

To set your room doing, try 'I'm <doing>'. +view is available.

Contents:

Corian, at the top of the hill.

Tarrant, leaning against the big tree

Log Flume Ride

Obvious Exits:

Java Quarter

You walk here from the Java Quarter.

Tarrant is leaning against the massive tree, dressed in his rather traditional fashion, even so far as once again having on his spurs. He's not watching the surrounding park, but is instead absently toying with the white rose in his hands, one sans thorns.

Corian, hands tucked lightly into her pockets, strolls up one of the more forgiving slopes and makes her way over to the tree, and to you. She pauses a beat at your appearance, a slow smile crossing her face, then finally remembers that, yes, speaking is good. "Cha'trez, good evening."

Tarrant brightens at the sound of your voice, looking up from his floral contemplations to beam at you. He steps a bit from the tree, not leaning on it, but not abusing his knee either, and offers the white rose. "Good evening, love."

Corian takes the rose with a murmured thankyou. After a moment to inhale its fragrance, she smiles brightly. "Thank you," she repeats. "It is lovely, very beautiful." She shifts the flower to one hand, offering you the other.

Tarrant squeezes your hand gently, then bowing low over it to gently kiss the hand. "Shall we then?" He grins almost impishly.

Corian absolutely beams at the gesture. "Of course." She pauses a moment, then inquires, "Just where are we going?"

"Nowhere," Tarrant replies a bit sheepishly. "Or at the very least not far." And with that he turns to scramble up the tree-house ladder with the agility of a squirrel. It's an odd gait, as he doesn't use the bad leg at all, but he manages it neatly. Turning as he all but dissapears into the branches he offers a hand up.

Tarrant climbs the board ladder up to the treehouse.

Tarrant has left.

From the treehouse, Tarrant climbs the board ladder up into the treehouse.

From the treehouse, Tarrant has arrived.

Corian looks after you with a brief, startled laugh, then moves to follow. It's a very good thing she can't read minds, or the squirrel analogy would be turning her all kinds of festive colors.

You climb the board ladder up to the treehouse.

Wildy Painted Treehouse

This is not merely a treehouse, but a labor of love by a connoisseur of such constructions. The massive porch is made of a criss-crossing lattice of such boards, close enough to be entirely safe, but enough of a space so that water does not collect, and so that the realization of height is not spoiled. The railing is built of spaced balustrades and a sturdy caprail painted in a wealth of dizzying colors and patterns. The small house itself is set back against the tree itself, and is a schizophrenic pattern of chaos. One side is painted in metallics akin to a spaceship, another in variegated paisleys. The third and forth sides are done to look like an ancient sailing ship and a jungle's greenery. The roof is yet another platform with another railing, and form it the view of the park is tremendous. Inside the house it is cozy, with low benches near the walls and large round windows. The floor is solid, and the walls painted with an ocean vista hilighted by mountains in the background. It is a small cozy space in the expansive tree.

The treehouse has been entirely transformed. A host of strings of tiny white lights, like those used at Christmas, have been strung all over the nest of branches. A table of sorts has been propped up in the middle of the deck, made of a wooden carton covered with a tablecloth. A large glass jar stuffed full of the tiny light strands provides gentle light. Place settings for two are present, as well as a couple of cushions. A basket of sorts is tucked just inside the actual house part of the treehouse, and various food smells can be scented.

Contents:

Tarrant

Obvious exits:

Ladder Down

Corian blinks at the transformed treehouse, surprised pleasure lighting her face. Or maybe it's the tiny white lights. "Goodness," she breathes. "Tarrant, I did not think that the treehouse could be more beautiful, but you have proven me wrong." She doesn't seem to be displeased to be wrong, though.

Tarrant shifts back away from the ladder, looking perhaps a bit sheepish as he clambers back to the far side to snag a seat. "It's not much of a night out I suppose, but the idea of dealing with other people didn't exactly appeal. I figured I'd cook instead."

Corian shakes her head quickly. "It is a wonderful night out," she replies, folding herself neatly to another seat. "It is just us, which I have to say I rather prefer."

Tarrant shifts to rummage in the treehouse, pulling out a thermal teapot and a couple of mugs which he adds to the table. A couple of covered plates with pressured lids are pulled out as well. One he places in front of you, explaining, "Squash and eggplant pasta with cheese sauce, with three bean salad." He snags a low basket from the basket and adds it to the table as well, "Sundried tomatoes on slices of garlic bread. Not terribly fancy I'm afraid, but I have a limited repetoire of vegetarian dishes that don't involve being boiled for six hours until they are an appropriately Millian sludge."

Corian settles the rose carefully out of the way. "It smells divine," she replies, with a smile. "Cha'trez, you really should not have gone to all this trouble, but I am most glad that you did. Thank you. This is wonderful."

"I had fun though, doing it..." Tarrant replies with a grin, releasing the pressure seal on his own plate and setting it into the basket. "And I cheated. This crate has an anti grav unit in it, and I just loaded everything into it. I guess I'm not supposed to give away my methods though, am I?"

Corian releases her own pressure seal, tucking it after yours. "Well, this place certainly looks magical," she replies, with a quick smile, "So I suppose not. I will forgive you this one time, though, I suppose. And I am glad that you enjoyed it. This really is lovely," she adds, with a brief look around the treehouse.

"The one thing the treehouse lacks is a proper view of the stars. I'm still seeing stars since you said you loved me, I wanted you to see stars as well." Tarrant explains softly, as he nudges the basket of bread towards you.

Bread? What bread? Corian rather absently takes some of the bread, but the bulk of her attention is on not being too sappy. It's a losing battle, though. Her smile is rather ridiculously sweet. "Thank you," she says softly. "I... goodness, what does one say to that? I did not know that you could be quite so poetic." At least, not without drugs. She doesn't ask if you took them, though. That would be a little too obvious.

"I'm not," Tarrant replies sheepishly, taking a piece of bread as well. "Being with you is just enlightening some times. A massive hole in my life I never realized was there."

Corian takes up her fork and starts on her meal, though she still looks rather giddy. "I... yes, I certainly understand that, cha'trez." Her expression turning a bit wondering, she adds, "I did not know that the world could be quite so wonderful."

Tarrant breaks his bread in half, taking a brief bite before starting on his own meal. Realizing what he's forgotten, he pours the tea, settling a mug by each place setting. "Nor had I. Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian blinks at that, smile managing to be both puzzled and pleased at the same time. "And you say you are not poetic," she murmurs, with a brief shake of her head. She adds a quiet thankyou for the tea, expression rather wondering.

Tarrant adds absently, and with a decidedly impish smile, "And no, I didn't take any pain medication." He snags another bite of his food.

Corian's brows arch sharply, and then she shakes her head expression wavering between amused and sheepish. "I did not -mean- to wonder that. But... how did you know?"

"The look," Tarrant explains, gesturing to you with a rueful chuckle. "The same one I was getting the other night, when I was drugged. Not that that made my words any less true."

Corian finally decides on looking sheepish, and on paying strict attention to her meal. "And they did not make me enjoy your words any less. Thank you, cha'trez, for saying them, and for all this and... well, generally for being yourself."

"It's okay love, for thinking me drugged. And in fact I used phrases at one point that it's good you are not Millian, or likely you would have kicked me from your bed for my presumption." It's Tarrant's turn to look sheepish now, and to regard his plate.

Corian puts down her fork, reaching over to touch your hand. "But I am not Millian," she replies softly. "And I did not find you presumptuous. Your words were beautiful."

Tarrant glances up at the touch to his hand, smiling at you. "My luck," he murmurs softly. "Luck involved indeed. Often I forget that because you speak the language does not mean you understand the customs."

Corian shakes her head as she takes up her fork once more. "I do not know the customs, no. If you like, I could try? I would be unlikely to be able to follow them, though--my own habits are somewhat ingrained for that."

Tarrant shakes his head quickly, "Goodness no, it's a backwater ridiculous hole of a world. No point to even learnin' em, dear. And heavens help if you followed them. You're you, and should be you the way you are."

Corian's smile brightens at that. "I am glad that you think so, my love," she replies, starting on her meal. "I would try, for you, but I do not know that I would succeed in changing how I am. I am far too set in my ways."

"I don't wantcha' to change, darlin'." Tarrant pauses, and then hauls his accent back in hand with an almost nervous expression. "I love you the way you are. I see no need for you to go about changing a thing. You're wonderfully perfect."

Corian shakes her head to that. "I do not believe that I am," she replies, sounding rather practical. "We are none of us perfect. But, well, you should not change either, cha'trez, unless it is something that you wish to change for yourself. I have absolutely no difficulty with your accent, for example." She adds, maybe a bit sheepishly, "I rather like it, in fact. But you should do what makes you comfortable."

Tarrant pauses rather sheepishly and grins, nodding. "I do try to keep it in check, though. It helps not to get too comfortable with it, it's hardly politic for me to go around certain places with an obvious accent. Besides, if it gets too thick, it gets incomprehensible."

Corian nods to your explanation, with a quick smile. "Of course, cha'trez. There are times and places where your accent certainly should not be too strong." Pausing to sip her tea, she adds, "It really is lovely, though." And, for a miracle, she manages a pose without looking sheepish.

"I seem lucky then, to have found the only woman in nine galaxies who thinks so," Tarrant answers, looking decidedly bemused as he settles back a bit, sipping from his tea. His hands wrap around the mug to keep from fidgeting, and he's not finished his meal, almost seeming nervous.

Corian regards you for a long moment, expression a bit concerned. "Are you all right, cha'trez? Your knee is not hurting, is it?" She reaches over to rest a hand lightly on one of yours.

Tarrant shakes his head quickly to the question. "Not a whit. It only hurts when I put weight on it now. Clara did an amazing job. I'm in awe honestly." He shifts the hand so that he can squeeze yours reassuringly.

Corian, in fact, looks rather reassured, though your words likely have more to do with that than the hand-squeezing does. "Good, very good. It sounds like the knee-surgery was a very good idea, then." She squeezes your hand as well, then finally returns to finishing off her meal.

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"Yeah, for all my doubts, it certainly seems so. And they were not too terrible at work about my continued absence." Tarrant settles against the deck's railing. "Some grumbling, but no actual admonition."

Corian manages not to roll her eyes, but something about her expression suggests her restraint. "I should -hope- there would be no admonition," she replies. "Goodness. If nothing else, they should recognize that you will be able to work better when you function better--and this surgery seems like it will certainly allow that."

"Yeah," Tarrant replies with a wry head shake. "But you know these folks. Interested in instant-gratification. No real eye for the long run anymore. Impling upstarts."

Corian carefully doesn't comment on that, as she wouldn't be surprised if some of these 'impling upstarts' were older than she. "Mm, well, perhaps they will learn? There is time for that, after all, though perhaps not -enough- time for some of them. At least -you- can take the long view."

"I'm just used to a slightly longer plan of things. I guess I got used to working with my old handlers, these guys are more into politics than saving the world." Tarrant sips from his tea a moment, settling comfortably against the railing.

Corian curls up a bit more comfortably on her cushion, nodding thoughtfully. "I suppose that isn't surprising, though, considering the location. But you are not likely to be here -that- long, in the long run, yes?"

"I guess that depends," Tarrant says thoughtfully, looking up to regard you. "On where you go."

Corian's smile is quick, like the sun peeking briefly from behind the clouds. "Well, I am not altogether certain where I will go. It does not much matter, I suppose, if you will be there."

"Love," Tarrants words are intent, and he settles aside his mug. "If you will let me, I'll follow you to the ends of the galaxy." He shifts one hand, ending up with a linked series of stone twists in one hand. In polished grays and malachite greens, the odd mostly circular twists are linked one into the other.

Corian's gaze rests briefly on the stone twists, curious, then back to your face. "As I have said," she replies softly, "It is not a question of whether I will let you do anything. This is not something I can much control, after all. If you wish to be there, though, I would love to have you there."

Tarrant shifts one hand over the other, and instead of a series of linked rings, there is instead a ring made of interlaced layers of malachite and gray, an interloping and altogether complex object. Taking up one edge carefully, he lets the whole thing fall into a linked chain again. "But you can control it, love. If you wished me gone, I would go, if that would please you." He carefully re-assembles the ring deftly, then offering it to you. "Your happiness is my own."

Corian blinks at the ring, expression just a bit fascinated, and decidedly pleased. She takes it, careful not to disassemble it in the process, and fits it carefully over the ring finger of her right hand. "Cha'trez, this is beautiful," she says softly, smile rather bright. "Thank you." She reaches for your hand, adding, "And I am hardly likely to wish you gone. I love you, after all."

Tarrant reaches for both of your hands, looking rather thoughtful, and concentrating.

Corian gives your hands a gentle squeeze and, after a brief glance to see how the ring looks on her hand, lifts her gray eyes to meet your gaze. She doesn't say anything just yet, a hint of puzzlement in her manner. She's pleased nonetheless, though.

Tarrant carefully moves to slip the ring from your hand. Gently he slips it into component bits, and then into a ring again. Then, expression thoughtful, he slides it back onto your finger. This time however, he slips it onto the ring finger of your left hand. Then, and only then, does he meet your gaze, his expression worried, questioning, and sadly wistful.

Corian blinks. She looks rather startled, and somewhat taken aback, eyes widening fractionally. She fumbles for words for a moment, then inquires, words coming rather slowly, "Tarrant, you... are you asking what I believe you are asking?"

"I am likely a fool," Tarrant says quietly, his eyes still not leaving yours, although he looks as if he is very likely to flee at any moment. "To ask such a thing, when I have earned no such favor from such a lady. But as you reminded me...flaran cha'menthi." He shakes his head, "I will not blame you if you wish to poke me in the eyes...but...would you allow me to stay by your side?"

Ah, so that's why you took Corian's hands first--to give you a little warning before the eye-poking commences. She doesn't look even remotely likely to do that, though, instead saying softly, "Of course, cha'trez--I would like to have you with me. But--" She hesitates for a long moment, evil woman, then adds slowly, "I may be misinterpreting your question. As you say, your customs are somewhat different from my own. Are you asking me to marry you?" And her gaze darts away from yours at that last, manner somewhat uncertain.

Tarrant shifts to one knee, the good one, although the bad one is still broguht in to play by his position. He bows over your hands, still held lightly in his. "I ask exactly that, my love. Would you do me the honor of your hand? Maybe? Someday? Pretty please?"

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian winces just a bit as you get on one knee. "Tarrant, love, please do get up--your knee. That cannot be comfortable." She regards you for a moment, then says slowly, "I love you, Tarrant. I will not love another as I love you. You already have my hand--both of them, my heart, everything that is me." There's another brief pause, and she inquires, "Why do you want to get married?"

Tarrant shifts down off the knee, crossing his legs to sit tailor fashion in has place. "Because I love you," he murmurs, eyes now dropping to your hands, releasing them, although he still holds his hands beneath yours, allowing the fact of his supporting your hands to continue if you chose to leave them there. "Is that not reason enough? Because I never wish to be parted from you. And if we were married, even the Department would not so presume."

Corian's gaze drops to her hands as well--or, more specifically, to that ring finger on her left hand. She reaches to touch the ring, looking almost like she's going to remove it, but, no, she's actually shifting it lower on her finger, so that it will remain there. She closes her hands lightly around yours, then, and attempts to catch your gaze.

Tarrant does glance up at that re-settling, grayish-green eyes meeting yours in startlement. Startlement and a decided grain of hope behind his expression. He can manage no question, no words, as he's run out of glibness. Yes, this is twice now, you've stunned or scared Tarrant into speechlessness.

Corian is, for a wonder, kind. She doesn't make you ask again. "Yes," she says softly, a smile warming her face and lighting her eyes. "I will."

Ka-chunk. That would be Tarrant's jaw hitting the floor. He blinks a few more times, still looking stunned. And stunned for a few moments more. Eventually he manages, in Millian, "Oh wow..." It's hardly an exclamation, sounding in fact almost lost, and -altogether- shocked. Then understanding and realization dawns and he grins a grin fit to shatter all grins, and then sweepingly bows over your hand. Well, as sweepingly as he can sitting cross legged on the deck of the treehouse. "My lady does me much honor."

Corian shakes her head at that, looking rather giddily thrilled. "You did me the honor, cha'trez, when you asked me." She releases one hand, lifting her own to cup your cheek. "I love you."

Tarrant looks up again at the hand to his cheek, still looking quite stunned, but no little thrilled himself. "And I you. More than I can begin to explain. More than I have words for. More than I could learn the words for in the time allotted to me." He pauses, then ducks his head., chuckling sheepishly "Pardon me, I think I'm going to go over in the corner and fall over from shock now."

Corian laughs softly at that, a low, rather rippling sound of delight. "You did not think I would say yes? Then why did you ask it, love? I am certainly glad that you did ask, though."

Tarrant shifts close, offering an attempt at a hug. "Because I wanted you to say yes," Tarrant explains ruefully. "I just didn't really think you would. I don't know. It seemed so...-unlikely-. I mean, uh...But you did, and I am just amazed."

Corian does, in fact, hug you, shifting around so that she's next to you, rather than facing you. For once, she really does look ridiculously happy, rather than just -feeling- happy but acting somewhat restrained. "I never even considered that you would -want- anything like that," she says softly.

>>OOC: Tarrant has to share this quote, "You have to walk carefully in the
beginning of love; the running across fields into your lover's arms can only come later when you're sure they won't laugh if you trip."

>>OOC: Corian dangs. How absolutely perfect for these two. And what a great
quote anyway.

Tarrant shifts close to you, sighing softly and looking pleased and stunned. "Love, I want to be with you. And this is a way to be with you."

Corian rests against you, with a quick smile. "Even the Department will have to respect that," she murmurs. "I really should have thought of that myself--I just never even considered that it was something you could want."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"More than anything, love." Tarrant sighs softly, hugging you close. "This way we can be together. And...and...wow. I had thought an hour ago I could be no happier, but yet I am managing it pretty neatly."

Corian just beams at you for a moment, with a quiet, contented sigh. "This really is amazingly wonderful," she murmurs. "Thank you, love. Thank you so much for asking me."

Tarrant laughs softly, a delighted but sheepish sound. "Love, thank -you-. You, after all, said yes!"

Corian blinks at that, expression rather innocent. "Why, yes. I suppose I did." She chuckles softly, then. "It did take me rather a while, though. If you ever ask me again, I will say yes more quickly.

Tarrant stifles a laugh, grinning at you in amusement. "I should hope I do not have to ask again. I thought I would die of terror doing it the once. Although, now that I am sure of your answer, I will ask you every day if it would please you."

Corian shakes her head, with another brief laugh. "That is unnecessary, cha'trez. Asking once was more than enough. Well--not -more- than enough. It sufficed." She shakes her head. "Goodness, I cannot even put a sentence together. Do you see what you do to me?" Her smile is rather fond.

Tarrant regards you with amusement lurking beneath lifted auburn brows. "Would you rather I went over there," he gestures to the other side of the deck. "So that I did not do these things to you?"

Corian shakes her head quickly to that, her arms tightening around you. "I would -rather-," she replies, with a short laugh, "That you stay right here. If you were all the way over there, I would not be able to do this." And she lifts her head to kiss you.

Tarrant's brows lift still further, but in a pleased fashion before he closes his eyes to return the kiss with careful intensity. He may be new to this, but he does learn from experience, and he's trying to improve. "I shall have to stay here then. In fact, I find myself not at all inclined to budge. It is a lovely evening, we are off to ourselves amongst stars and tree-limbs, and you said -yes-..."

Ah, but was it six seconds? Corian nestles against you once more, with a very quiet sigh. "We have to go back eventually," she murmurs. "If nothing else, the children get here somewhat earlier than you have been waking, of late."

Tarrant chuckles sheepishly and nods, hugging you close a moment. "Yes, the hour grows late I'm afraid. And eventually we shall have to head back home. These things happen in that fashion. And I am sorry I have lain abed so late recently. I can only say in my defense it wasn't my idea."

Corian shakes her head quickly at that. "It was not intended to be a criticism, love. You slept because you needed the rest." Her smile is warm. "And it is a joy to have you with me, even asleep. Besides," she adds. "I liked being able to watch you sleep."

"Well, it's good you find it an entertainment," Tarrant murmurs with amusement, "As I have done it overmuch and all. Still, I have enjoyed sleeping in your presence. It is a peaceful thing."

Corian shakes her head. "I do not believe it has been overmuch," she replies, with a smile. "You have slept because you needed the rest. And I have been very glad to have you there with me."

"And I've been glad to be there with you." Tarrant half-grins, shaking his head in bemusement. "Although the look on Clara's face when she recommended we sleep together..." He pauses a moment, blinking. "Ack, I nearly forgot...Forgive me love." He shifts away long enough to tug up the basket. "Dessert..."

Corian stifles a very quiet laugh at your Clara-related comment. "She apologized for that later," she says. "She was very relieved to hear that we had done so before." She pauses a beat, then. "Dessert? There is more?" Like this evening needs to get sweeter.

Tarrant tugs a couple of cellophane wrapped shortcake objects from the basket. Yes, to a romantic dinner he brought Twinkies as dessert. He offers you a packet, grinning impishly. "Okay, so maybe it's not quite appropriate. But as many of these things as the old gang went through, I could pass them up."

Tarrant tugs a couple of cellophane wrapped shortcake objects from the basket. Yes, to a romantic dinner he brought Twinkies as dessert. He offers you a packet, grinning impishly. "Okay, so maybe it's not quite appropriate. But as many of these things as the old gang went through, I couldn't pass them up."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian blinks at the Twinkies for a moment, then takes one, all but dissolving into laughter. "I should have known," she says. "Thank you. This is perfect."

Tarrant tugs open his own package, chuckling quietly. "I guess I fail romantic dinner 101, hmm? I knew I should have been paying more attention in class, but you know me, hopeless as the day is long. I probably skipped out to go play on the swings."

Corian opens her own package, casting a fond look at you. "As beautiful as this place is, as wonderful as that meal was, and you say that you fail? Cha'trez, I think that our definitions of the word are very different, then."

Tarrant takes a bite of his confection, eyes dancing in amusement. "I was trying, an amateur meddling along. But I had fun. I do believe I frightened the poor woman at the store where I got the lights however. I do not suppose she is accustomed to overly cheerful people wanting her to unpack seasonal decorations."

Corian breaks her own Twinkie into several pieces. This being the only overly-sweet food that she eats, she has to do it in a compulsive manner, of course. She takes up the first piece and nibbles on the edge, with a quiet sigh. "It has been such a long time since I have had one of these." Glancing back to you, she laughs quietly. "The poor woman. It was for a good cause, though. This place really is -lovely-."

"I was nice about it," Tarrant protests softly, looking amused. "I just was also...cheerful." He munches on his own dessert with much less compulsiveness, just casual. "I am glad you like it. Among other things, I wanted to thank you for letting me stay with you while I was so out of it."

Corian shakes her head to that. "There is no need to thank me, love. I enjoyed having you there, even though I wish it could have been under better circumstances."

"And we'll have other circumstances," Tarrant murmurs softly, sounding altogether pleased. "We have as long as we need. Forever and ever..."

Corian nods slowly, though her expression is somewhat thoughtful. "We have a long time, yes," she replies quietly.

"Okay, perhaps not forever..." Tarrant murmurs thoughtfully, "But a while. As long as we are otherwise allowed."

Corian nods to that. "As long as we are allowed, yes," she near-echoes. "However long we have, it will be wonderful." She smiles suddenly, then. "When should we get married?" she inquires, half in jest. "Tomorrow?"

Tarrant grins at that, eyes lighting up. "If you'd like to, certainly. Should I comm your father then this evening and ask his permission?"

Corian considers for a moment, then shakes her head. "You have asked me. Is that not enough? Besides, Father would say yes." After a brief pause, she suggests innocently, "You could ask Hona?"

Tarrant grins at that, nodding, "If you think it appropriate. I would dare such, yes. But if I end up cowering under the bed and whimpering, you have to rescue me from her."

Corian shakes her head at that, laughing quietly. "Mmm, no. I do not think she would be quite that bad, as she has promised me that she will not scare you away, but I do not think it necessary that I subject you to her. I will have to comm her, though," she adds, with a rather delighted smile. "Very soon."

Tarrant grins at that, glancing up at the lights, and regarding them a moment. "Especially if you wish to be married tommorrow."

Corian says thoughtfully, "That might, perhaps, be a bit hasty. But I should certainly tell Hona soon, yes."

Tarrant grins in decided amusement, finally finishing off his Twinkie and nodding. "Whenever you like, love. We have time, I am anything if not patient."

Corian takes somewhat longer to finish her Twinkie, flickering a cheerful smile to her. "I would rather do it without too much fuss, if we can manage it. Other than that... well, we can decide it together."

"I think a lack of fuss sounds like the best thing. Neither of us is one likely to wish there to be much in the way of attention paid." Tarrant murmurs, tucking his wrapper away in the basket. He shifts the plates in as well, covering them first."

Corian resists valiantly, and manages not to say the phrase that pops into her player's head. Instead, she moves to help where she may--with the bread. Yeah, there's bread, right? "That sounds wonderful, yes." After a brief pause, she inquires, "Are we going to head home, then?"

Tarrant lifts his shoulders absently, grinning at you as he tucks things away, although he leaves the lights in place. "Up to you, love. But I figured I'd tuck some of this away, just for neatness sake. Less to do later and all."

Corian nods to that. "Perhaps we -should- go back," she says, with a barely-aspirated sigh. "It is getting a bit chilly, and it is rather late."

Tarrant shrugs off his jacket, offering it to you. "If you would rather stay, we can. Or we can go back as well. As long as I am with you, I am where I want to be."

Corian shakes her head at the offer of the jacket, with a quick smile and a murmured "No, thank you. It is getting late, cha'trez," she says, smile turning apologetic. "Why don't we go home?"

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant over-ends the table, tucking the basket into the box, as well as the jar of lights and the table cloth. He carefully levers himself to his feet, uncoiling the lights down from the branches. "Sounds fair enough to me, fair enough." He shrugs his jacket back on however. "Home."

Corian watches the de-lighting with a hint of regret, getting to her feet to assist where she may. "It is not far, and somewhat warmer," she says, with a quick smile.

Carefully packing away the lights, Tarrant then drops the box off the side of the treehouse, it falls slowly. "Warmer indeed." He bows to the ladder, gesturing for you to precede him.

Corian carefully takes up her rose, holding it in the hand that she presses to her heart, before returning the bow. Straightening with a smile, she moves to the ladder.

You climb down the board ladder to the ground.

Hill Overlooking the Quarter

As may be implied, this hill overlooks the Java Quarter. As it's a fairly long hill, somewhat steep in places, it may be accessed by any number of stairways and ramps and paths worn in the grass.

The plateau atop the hill seems to have been preserved as some sort of public park, as trees abound, flowers are meticulously planted in neat and fussy arrangements, and cobblestone-free walkways lead to several different areas. In one, a particularly flat area has been paved for various forms of skating, and is much in use. In another, tables with checkerboard tops have been bolted to the ground--so they won't go for a walk, of course. Along the center of the plateau, surrounded by another of those fussy flower-arrangements, a long reflecting pool holds the reversed-image of the Complex. Of course, as several families of ducks have taken up residence in said pool, the image is often distorted, but isn't that the way it should be? On the opposite side of the pool from the skating area, a brightly-colored playground beckons to children of all ages, shapes, and sizes. At the end of the pool, facing the Complex, is a massive sculpture. And, as the makers of the park realize that children have needs that sometimes strike suddenly, restrooms and water fountains are available at the far end of the plateau.

To set your room doing, try 'I'm <doing>'. +view is available.

Contents:

Corian, at the top of the hill.

Log Flume Ride

Obvious Exits:

Java Quarter

You walk here from the Wildy Painted Treehouse.

From the treehouse, Tarrant climbs down the ladder to the ground.

From the treehouse, Tarrant has left.

Tarrant climbs down the board ladder from the treehouse.

Tarrant has arrived.

Tarrant slides down the ladder, careful of his leg as he lands neatly. He gestures to the box, topping it. "A seat m'lady?"

Corian looks puzzled for a moment, but then a quick smile lights her face, and she perches atop the box.

Tarrant reaches down to snag the box's tether, grinning. Like a wheel-less wagon, it tugs along easily. Tarrant grins, whistling softly as he carefully tugs you to the top of one of the hills. With a quick couple of steps, he jumps on after you, sending the 'wagon' whizzing down the slope. He adds a rebel yell to this. Oh dear.

The noise that Corian makes is really not describable--somewhere between a yelp and an ack and a laugh. She reaches to cling to you during the ride, finally settling on laughing helplessly. "Goodness, love. Warning. Warning would be nice."

Tarrant manages to steer the improvised wagon, bringing it to a safe halt at the foot of the hill, eyes alight. "Sorry, one of those last minute decisions. The hill just yelled for it." He grins, "I'll be kinder on the way home." He clambers off with a brief attempt at stealing a kiss, taking up the tether again.

Corian, painfully aware of the absence of walls, does keep the kiss brief, but is all for the thievery. "We must certainly go to the amusement park," she decides. "If you enjoyed that."

You walk towards the Java Quarter.

Java Quarter

In the very heart of the Java Quarter stands a massive granite fountain. Change glints in the basin, and a whimsically carved dragon basks amongst the pouring flows of water. A small faded plaque indicates it's a memorial of some kind. Around the fountain square lurk squat little buildings, each painted in a riot of colors and bedecked with curling wrought iron trim. Many years ago these were fine houses for people from outlying steadings coming to visit the capitol. Now they have been re-made into artist's studios, odd little stores, java shops, and bars.

The streets in this quarter are all of cobblestone, and earthenware pots are scattered at every corner. In these pots are planted quirky little topiary bushes. The streetlights are made to mimic old gas lantern-lights, and the street signs are of battered driftwood. A great deal of care has been taken to keep the flavor and charm of this district without sacrificing modern amenities. Small darkened 'alleys' lead off the narrow streets and between the cramped buildings. Dingy and with a flavor of great age to them, they're probably not the best place for tourists to go.

Contents:

Kyara

Aliana

Obvious exits:

Shop Hill Zimmies Bar and Grill Pavilion

You walk here from the Hill Overlooking the Quarter.

Tarrant walks here from the Hill Overlooking the Quarter.

Tarrant has arrived.

Aliana is settled with Kya at a table by the fountain...drinking tea.

Kyara smiles sympathetically, then follows Ali's gaze to brighten upon seeing Cori, and she offers a wave.

Tarrant tugs on the tether to his improvised wagon, hauling poor Corian along on the anti-grav-unit laden box. He's looking insanely cheerful, but then Tarrant is good at that. "Roller coasters are similar?"

Aliana grins at Tarrant's expression, calling out a cheerful "Hello!" to the pair.

Corian looks just about as insanely cheerful as Tarrant. "Roller coasters are -better-," she asserts. "They are faster, and they turn and loop, and many other excitements." She casts a bright smile to the pair, calling a chipper, "Good evening."

Kyara peers at Tarrant curiously, then at Corian. "What's a roller coaster?"

Aliana closes her mouth, about to echo Kyara's question.

Tarrant notes the greeting and the wave, and returns the wave with a half bow and a called, "Evening." He detours slightly, tugging the Corian wagon towards the various greeting people. "But the people scream so much," he says dubiously.

The Corian wagon? Is that like the welcome wagon, only with a mostly-Edreeni lady? "A roller coaster is a means of entertainment," she replies. "Small cars travel at high speeds along tracks. There are often fast turns, and loops, and, yes, the people often scream." She casts a quick smile at Tarrant. "But they are enjoying themselves nonetheless."

Kyara ohs quietly. "That sounds... interesting." Guess ya gotta experience it to appreciate it?

Tarrant shakes his head, looking amused, "I shall have to try it, so I may understand." He grins in amusement, "If it's anything like pitching a wagon over a hill, it'll be fun."

Aliana oohhs,'That does sound like fun.' She says, her eyes flashing in excitment

Corian nods cheerfully to Kyara. "It is interesting, yes--wonderfully exciting." Tarrant's words elicit a--wow, she -can- smile more brightly. "Wonderful, cha'trez--though it should likely wait until your knee has healed somewhat more." To Aliana, she nods firmly, clearly very convinced of the fun of roller coasters.

Kyara gives Corian a somewhat surprised look. Corian can get excited?

Tarrant shakes his head in decided amusment, gesturing towards the building and offering Corian a questioning look.

Aliana grins,'I shall have to find one to go on...after I ride a train.' She decides.

Corian returns Kyara's surprised look with an innocent one that doesn't quite ring true--she's too cheerful. To Aliana, she says, "Good for you," before nodding to Tarrant. "Please, love? I may try to comm Hona tonight."

Tarrant half bows, grinning impishly. "As my lady desires, so shall I endeavor."

Aliana smiles at the two,'Have a nice evening'

Kyara tilts her head, a bit puzzled, but offers a wave. "Have fun."

Corian's head inclines in a nod, though her smile of farewell is as sunny as ever. "Enjoy the rest of the evening, ladies." Tarrant gets a fond look, and a murmured, "Thank you."

Tarrant traipses off towards the Complex, towing the Corian wagon behind and whistling cheerfully.

[Travelspam to the 4th floor elevator lounge deleted.]

Tarrant tugs the wagon right up to your door, gesturing with a grin. "Tree to door service."

Corian smiles cheerfully as she slides down from the wagon. "Thank you, cha'trez. The ride was quite entertaining." (Kathlyn takes notes.)

Tarrant tugs the crate up on to one end, half leaning against it with an amused air. "Better than with wheels even. No bumps."

Corian nods to that. "Nary a bump, yes, you are correct," she replies cheerfully. "You would be most popular with the younglings, with that." She glances behind her, to her door, then inquires, "Would you like to come inside? We could stay out here and chat, I suppose, but, well--" She lowers her voice to conclude, "It is much easier to avoid the neighbors when one is not in the hallway."

Tarrant pats at the door with one hand, regarding you in mock pathetic-ness. "Meow?"

Corian bites back a sudden laugh. "Please do not let the Zaeltans hear you do that," she murmurs, reaching for your hand even as she opens the door.

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant interlaces his fingers through yours, chuckling as he follows. "I shall try not to."

You unlock the door and go into room Y8.

Room Y8

This poor room is very confused. Its owner has traveled extensively, as is obvious from the disjointed decor. Oddly, though, it all seems to fit, and the room certainly matches Corian's personality. The glossy wooden floor is bare, with the exception of one small, circular braided rug. The dark blue overstuffed couch seems new, and is sized to fit an Edreeni. The throw over the couch, however, is faded, and seems to depict some sort of seascape. A low table in front of the couch also seems fairly new. It holds a few books, more paperwork, and a toy wind-up giraffe with a bit of ribbon around its neck. The desk is a convenient little thing, looking like it can fold to a size that may be carried. Of course, that means there are no drawers, but a small portable file-drawer makes up for that. A rather large stack of noveldisks rests on the desk, as well as paperwork in any of a number of languages, a few wooden puzzles, and a photograph. A portable terminal is generally somewhere around the room, depending on where Corian is working at the moment. The chair tucked under the desk is decidedly comfortable, and looks like the seat of choice for Corian. A screen hides the sleeping area from view, and has a brightly-colored piece of cloth tacked to it. A long coat of dark gray skrorg hangs near the door.

Obvious exits:

Out

You come in from the Elevator Lounge.

Tarrant enters from the Elevator Lounge.

Tarrant has arrived.

Corian moves to tuck the rose into a vase, though she comes back to reclaim your hand quickly enough. She's just not going to drag you all over the room. "I do appreciate that," she says, with a soft chuckle. She regards the comm for a moment, then says, "Perhaps I can tell Hona, and then she can help inform the rest of the family."

Tarrant powers down the anti-grav unit, settling the crate near the door. He squeezes your hand in an amused fashion. "Sounds like a plan. Simplest method and all."

Corian nods to that, taking up residence on the couch. "And simple is greatly to be preferred." With a quiet laugh, she says, "Hona will be even -more- smug, but that is only fair, it seems."

Tarrant slides down to sit by you on the couch, shifting his bad leg until the joint is straight. "Smug is to be expected from relatives. They're required to be so as a rule."

Corian, with a brief laugh, nods once more. "Especially Hona." Shifting closer to you, she inquires, "Would you like to be here when I comm her? I am certain that she will want to meet you, in whatever manner."

"It depends on how you would be more comfortable love," Tarrant rubs at his eyes with one hand. "I'll be happy either which way."

Corian drops the subject for the moment, inquiring, "Are you tired, cha'trez? It has been rather a busy day, after all."

"A little, but I'm here with you. Sleep can wait if needs be. If you'd like me to be there when you comm your great-grandmother, I can be," Tarrant murmurs softly, shifting closer to you.

Corian rests lightly against you. "I can wait to comm her," Corian replies, with a smile. "If you are tired, you should sleep. You should listen to your body--it knows what it needs."

Tarrant tucks an arm around you, settling against you and the couch. "It's informing me it's fine either way."

Corian chuckles softly. "Ah, you are going to make me decide. Such cruelty," she adds fondly. "I can comm her, and you can rest while I do so. Would that suit?"

"Suits fine," Tarrant murmurs by way of reply, his eyes sinking shut. "A nice plan. Plans are good."

Corian curls close to you for a moment, kissing your cheek. "Rest well, cha'trez," she murmurs, before getting to her feet, the better to move to the comm.

Tarrant murmurs a vague reply, before drifting off altogether, still seated on the couch.

Corian casts a fond look to you before taking a seat and turning to the comm, the better to place the call. And something of the day's excitement is still on her face as the screen clears, though she speaks quietly. "Good morning, Hona. I trust that you are well?"

Honalee is seated at her desk, in scrubs and a rather elegant lab coat. "Quite well, thanks. They've let me get my hands into real work again." And in fact she looks far more lively than she has. "You look quite well, as well dear. Everything goes well I take it?"

Corian nods to your question, her smile rather dazzling. "Today was such a -wonderful- day, Hona." She pauses a beat, then continues, without any introduction. "He asked me to marry him."

Honalee drops her pen, looking startled but rather delighted. "Then he -isn't- gay...or a drummer."

Corian chokes back on a laugh, though her cheeks do flame as she glances briefly over her shoulder. "Hona, he's asleep on the couch," she protests. "And, no, he is neither of those. Not that there is anything wrong with that."

"Congratulations dear," Honalee positively beams, "That is -wonderful- news. Oooh, asleep on the couch. Did you tire him out well and proper? Nudge, nudge, know what I mean?" She raises her voice just a hair. Gee, if she should accidentally awaken the fellow, wouldn't that be such a crime.

Corian rests her face in her hands, but the blush is still very obviously visible. Peeking between her fingers, she explains, "Hona, we have not done that. Please, -please- don't wake him. He needs his rest." She doesn't look over her shoulder, this time, though. If there's anybody awake back there, she certainly doesn't want to know about it.

Honalee sighs as if denied a joy, but does lower her voice again. "Well when are you going to get to it child? It's not tricky, I promise. You'll like it. Clara said he wasn't gay either. Still, if you're getting married, you will eventually." She pauses, "So, when's the wedding, what are you naming the children?"

Corian starts to answer the first question, but is happily distracted by the statement. "You asked Clara about him? When? And we do not know about the wedding. It will not be tomorrow," she adds thoughtfully. "Beyond that, we are uncertain." She blissfully ignores the question about children.

"Tomorrow's a bit early. It's always good to wait seventy-two hours so you have time for the glow to wear off and see if this is what you really want. Don't let them rope you into anything fancy though, dear. More trouble than it's worth." Honalee smiles, "Yesterday. Clara called."

Corian chuckles very quietly, inclining her head. "We both wish to keep it simple. That would be much easier, as well as allow me to avoid wearing anything fancy. And it is good that Clara called. She really is a wonderful person. We are lucky to have her here, and Riley is lucky to have her."

"He is. And -they- have sex." The implication of course being, that you do not. Although goodness knows, you probably didn't wish to hear that. "There's nothing wrong with fancy. In moderation."

Corian certainly did not wish to hear that, though she says staunchly, "How wonderful for them. You must be so pleased." Her lips quirk fractionally, and she nods. "Moderation is good, yes. Overly fancy clothing does not suit me, after all." Her face lights suddenly. "Ah, I must show you something." She disappears briefly from view as she rummages for something nearby, but she returns with the blue lingerie set from the other day. "Shopping with Clara and Elasia the other day was an adventure, but I could not resist this."

Honalee's brows raise, and she looks decidedly approving. "It's lovely dear, and suits you nicely. The color, and the flowing...Well, you inherited your mother's grace, the style does you justice."

Corian looks rather pleased at that, absently tucking the fabric over the back of the chair. "Thank you. And before you ask, no, he has not seen it."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"Saving it for a special occasion?" Honalee questions in sweet innocence.

Corian shakes her head firmly, then pauses. "Perhaps when we get married," she says thoughtfully, though that expression lingers only a moment before it is replaced by a rather giddy smile.

"That sounds like a marvelous idea," Honalee smiles, looking -excessively- smug. "That really is -wonderful- news. Did he do a proper job of asking? Men often don't, you can't hold it against them, they're usually so scared."

Corian, if anything, looks more thrilled as she nods. "It was wonderful, Hona. It was in the treehouse that he built in the park, and he had little white lights everywhere because he said--" Here she really does have to pause to sigh. "He said that he wanted me to see stars, because I had made him see stars, when I told him I loved him. And he cooked, and it was wonderful, and... well, it took me a moment or two to understand what he wanted, because he didn't ask it specifically, but then he got down on one knee--even though he's had knee surgery recently--and it was just -wonderful-." Aren't you glad you asked? She finally does realize that she's gushing, and stops, looking a bit sheepish but still decidedly thrilled.

Honalee chuckles, although she does in fact look pleased she asked, obviously quite thrilled that you're so happy. "That sounds wonderful dear. Points to him." There's another pause, this one a little restrained, as Honalee doesn't wish to offend in your be-joyed state. "Did he give you a ring? Or does his culture not..."

Corian nods to that. "The ring!" Oops, yes, she lowers her voice. "That was how he asked me without asking. He gave me the ring, and I put it here," She wiggles the ring finger of her right hand, "And then he moved it here." And she holds up her left hand, so that the ring can be seen in all its gray and malachite glory.

Honalee looks even -more- smug. She's got you married off to a man who's not gay, a drummer, and remembered the ring. "It's absolutely lovely dear. A little non-traditional, but then goodness knows, nor are the two of you."

Corian nods her agreement to that. "We certainly are not, no. And I love the ring. It's perfect." She pauses a beat then, her revolting happiness dimming somewhat. "I am considering telling Riley something," she says slowly. "But I am not altogether certain how he will react. You know him better than I do, Hona..."

Noting the dimming expression, Honalee's own countenance sobers. "What are you thinking of tellinh him?"

Corian chooses her words carefully. "He knows that Tarrant works for the Department," she says slowly, "Though I am not certain if he knows in what capacity. Clara said that he might know, but just isn't talking about it." She hesitates for a moment before adding, "He does not know that I worked for the Department as well--those three years during which I was somewhat difficult to cntact. I would not mention it, except that I am hoping to work for them again, from the Complex."

Honalee considers your words a moment, her expression thoughtful. "Greg is...capable og pragmatism. If you asked him to do certain things, he would be disgusted. Or to order one of his people to do the same, well, he'd be furious. But to do these things yourself...Well, that is your own place and choice. He accepts that these things are done, and does not despise them as such, he just feels -doing- them conflict with his oaths."

Corian nods very slowly, absently running a finger along her ring. Yay, another toy. "Thank you," she says thoughtfully. "I will consider that. I thought it might be better if I told him, rather than if he found out in a... less controlled manner."

"He would probably appreciate that, yes." Honalee pauses a moment. "I could explain it to him, if you would like?"

Corian looks for a moment like she's going to accept, then shakes her head. "Thank you, but no. It is my responsibility. I could, though," she adds, smile returning, "Use a bit of help in telling the family about the upcoming wedding. There are so many of them, after all. I'll tell Mother and Father, of course," she says quickly, "But I really could use some help with the others."

Honalee brightens at that. "Of course dear. I'd be honored. I'll even be good about it, and not attempt to horrify them. I'm proud you'd trust the task to me."

Corian laughs softly at that, her expression fondly amused. "I do appreciate the lack of horror, yes, thank you. I will let you know as soon as we have made definite plans, of course, assuming we keep to what we said about not getting married tomorrow." And, yes, her tone is lightly teasing at that last.

"Seventy two hours, child. And then get married." Honalee winks at that. "But still, it is late, yes?"

Corian nods her agreement to that. "Yes, it is," she replies, with a smile that, in fact, does hold a hint of weariness. "And it has been a long day, if wonderful, with a longer, somewhat less wonderful day tomorrow. I should get to sleep, and let you get on with your day."

"Sleep well, child. My love is with you." Honalee rummages on her desk for the controls. "Good night." She cuts the connection.

Corian gets to her feet with a pleased smile. Fortunately, she does see the lingerie on the back of the chair, and tucks it away before moving to your side. "Can you wake up long enough to go to bed?" she inquires softly, hoping very much that you managed to sleep through that entire conversation.

Tarrant seems indeed to have slept through it, as he's quite asleep still. When you speak, he stirs, murmuring quiet agreement. "Yeah, sure can. Sorry, was so comfortable." He reaches up, tugging at his tie and loosening it.

Corian nods agreeably, a hint of relief crossing her face. "It is good that you slept, love. I am sorry to have to wake you. I am horribly selfish; I would rather have you with me."

Tarrant clambers to his feet offering you a sheepish grin. "And I'd rather be with you. And sleeping sitting up all night isn't as comfortable as a bed."

Corian reaches for your hand as she starts for the bed-area. "And that was the other reason I woke you, yes," she says, with a smile. "That did not look especially comfortable."

Tarrant limps along after you to the bed, squeezing your hand and releasing it as he heads to 'his' side. Carefully he tugs off be-spurred boots, tie, and jacket. He still of course looks half formal, but there's not much help for it. "It's a nice couch though. Not so bad at all. Have a nice conversation?"

Corian nods to your question smile warming as she spots the spurs. "Yes, it was very nice. Hona was very pleased, and very smug." And, from that hint of a blush, she made a few comments, as well. She takes off her shoes as well, then adds, "She will help tell the family, very kind of her."

Tarrant un-buttons the top button of his shirt, clambering sleepily beneath the blankets. "Very kind indeed. Need to comm my family tomorrow. Should be an amusing conversation."

Corian scoots under the covers as well, not even really pausing that much before moving closer to you, the better for curling up-ing. At your words, however, she pauses. "Will they... will it be all right?" Ah, see, now she's pondering the prospect of inlaws.

Tarrant curls in close to you, relaxing into the comfort of the bed. "They'll be thrilled. Thrilled beyond words. I think they'd despaired of ever marrying me off."

Corian exhales softly, sounding a bit relieved. "Thrilled is very good, yes. Wonderful." She leans close to offer a quick kiss, murmuring, "Sleep well, cha'trez. You sound tired."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"Z'hausted," Tarrant murmurs quietly, returning the kiss gently. "Thank you for agreeing to be my wife. G'night my star." And with that he snuggles in close, dozing back into sleep.

Corian takes a moment to sigh happily, before curling up with you and, after a brief time, drifting off as well.

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