8/10/99

Corian is here, by the way, and awake and doing something involving her computer and the occasional murmur of frustration. She's swiped back her teddy bear at some point, as he's next to her, watching the game with the rapt interest of the stuffed.

Tarrant meanders back in from the hall, carrying a bag and whistling softly. He's looking decidedly cheerful, but that's a pretty constant state for him these days. A grin crosses his face as he realizes you're in and he calls quietly, "Evening, love. Hungry at all?"

Corian looks up from the computer, just a bit sheepish. She's not playing games, of course not. And even if she is, it's a -puzzle- game. Yeah. She ponders her state of hunger as she gets lightly to her feet, setting aside the computer and putting the bear in a spot where he can guard it. "I am a bit hungry, yes--and hello," she adds, with a smile. "How has your day been?"

Tarrant notes the bear being set aside with bemusement. He likes stuffed animals. It's a required state. "Language studies?" He queries of the computer, of course Corian would -never- play video games, really. He grins in bemusement, "Not bad at all, if a bit tiring. I think I'm about as ready as I'm going to get for this trip though. I stopped and snagged Italian if you'd like some?" He gestures with the bag.

Corian casts a vaguely guilty look towards the computer. "I was playing Triad," she replies. "Have you tried it--the pattern-matching game with the shapes and the colors and the designs? It is... good for helping one notice more subtle patterns." She moves over to claim a kiss, with a look of decided interest towards the bag. "That sounds wonderful, actually. And if I can trust my nose, there is garlic involved in that, so we both should eat it, for self-preservation."

"Ooh, and it's five kinds of addictive too," Apparently Tarrant has played it, from his effusive response. The kiss is returned with a delighted look. "Self-preservation? ANd yeah, there is, it's..." He is cut short by his comm going nuts, and with a groan he offers the bag. "Must dash love, sorry, I'll be back. Don't wait on food."

Tarrant then dashes out, really he does.

[Time passes.]

Tarrant slips back in the door, looking a bit chagrined. Randomly giving you wife Italian and bolting is probably terribly rude.

There are worse things to give your wife before bolting than Italian, though. And Corian doesn't look even remotely distressed. She's just concentrating on the computer again, curled up with the teddy bear in her lap this time. And she's focusing enough that she's probably not playing games this time.

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant murmurs a quiet greeting, offering a wave as he trails over to you. Leaning down he moves as if to try and steal a kiss. "Sorry about dissapearing on you love. You know how those loonies are."

Corian looks up smoothly, and smiles, offering over the kiss so that no thievery need occur. "Of course, cha'trez. I understand these things, of course. Your dinner is in the warmer. I hope it was not anything too involved, down there."

Tarrant brightens at the kiss. Evils of work are easily banished it would seem, as the one kiss returns him to his formerly cheerful state. Straightening he pads over to the warmer, "No, not really. They just realized they'd loaded the wrong tape yesterday. I'd -thought- something was weird. But you know how it is at first anyhow where nothing quite meshes anyway."

Corian nods as she folds back to her seat, with a decided wince of sympathy. "Are you going to have to do it over again tomorrow, then, with the proper tape?" And, gee, she looks really unthrilled by this particular prospect.

"They already ran it through this evening, hence why it took so long." Rummaging, Tarrant pulls the container from the warmer and then pads over to snag a cross-legged seat on the couch.

Corian shakes her head, setting aside the computer and watching you, fingers curling lightly around the bear. "At least it is finished," she murmurs. "And as late as it is already, you can just get some rest and let yourself sort out the tape."

Tarrant spoons up a bite of his pasta. Munching absently he nods. Finishing the bite he adds, "And I'm kind of wired for said tapes, genetically and all, so it's not as bad as it could be. Just kind of odd, and tiring, but not like I'm given to understand other folks have to endure after the fact."

Corian nods firmly at that. "I don't do nearly as well," she says, with a hint of a smile. "If you had not mentioned it, I would not have known that you had done it. That is good, though, as many of them as I suppose you have done."

Tarrant does lay waste to dinner with more alacrity than he normally would however. He nods absently. "I'd have pudding for brains. Or grits one. And some are worse than others. Language tapes are the worst, I don't know how you manage them. I can never remember which language I'm speaking afterwards."

Corian's lips quirk in a wry little smile. "Most of the time it is not -too- bad, but the Alvandi was just horrible," she admits candidly. "But I have gotten used to them. At least my linguistic training helps me to assimilate them more easily." She watches the food-demolishing with a nod of satisfaction, then suggests, "We do have more food, cha'trez, if that is not enough."

Tarrant polishes off his dinner with a vaguely sheepish look. He shakes his head as he clambers to his feet with the dishes. "No, that was plenty. I was just half-starved -before- they plugged me into a tape player with a penchant for sadism. And I'm about as lingual as a stump, another good reason for us to be paired up professionally as well as the fact I'm head over heels in love with you."

Corian keeps up her spot on the couch as she watches you deal with the dishes. You'll be back, after all. She does, though, smile brightly at the use of the l-word. "It works out very nicely all around, yes. Though I will be very glad to get this trip to Alvand finished, if only because then perhaps we can go and hide for a little while. That," she adds, with feeling, "Would be nice."

Tarrant tucks the dishes away, and then meanders back to slide to a careful seat as close to you as he can manage on the couch. "You're not even kidding love," he agrees in a heartfelt tone. "We're due some time just together to live a bit."

Corian makes the sitting-close thing much easier by curling up with you, displacing the poor, sad teddy bear. Aww. "Perhaps when we return," she murmurs wistfully. "Though I suppose that will depend on how the assignment goes, and whether we still have our fingertips by the time it has ended. Gloves," she adds thoughtfully. "We will have to be sure to acquire gloves."

Tarrant is more than willing to cause the stuffed animal distress if it means cuddling with you. He is after all somewhat tired, and being with you is warm, comfortable, and pleasant. "Really -thick- gloves," he agrees quietly, not managing to stifle an involuntary shiver. He's not designed for cold. He does not like it. "They'll owe us some time afterwards, and I'm all for taking it."

"As miserable as this is likely to be," Corian murmurs, "Yes, they -will- owe us. Would you like go go somewhere?" she inquires, leaning up to claim a quick kiss. "Or stay here instead?"

Tarrant gently shifts an arm around you, looking quite pleased at the kiss. "I honestly don't know love. Which'd make you more comfortable? Whichever'd be most relaxing, we should do that."

Corian suggests, with a pleased little sigh for the closeness, "Perhaps somewhere warm? If nothing else, we could go to the islands, to where we were married. It is quiet, after all." And, hey, if the same bed were gotten, the marriage could be re-consummated in the appropriate bed. Yeah!

"Ooh, warm and lovely. That beach was gorgeous, and that was -such- a lovely trip..." Tarrant sighs in a contented fashion. "Sort of a belated anniversary trip."

Corian nods her agreement to that, slipping an arm over you in a half-embrace. "It has been not much over a month," she observes. She pauses a moment, then adds, "Though it was suggested to me this afternoon that this assignment may last a few months. Have you heard anything along those lines?"

Tarrant shakes his head ever so slightly, "I haven't heard one way or another, though I'd not be surprised. I guess they don't want me hiding in a closet or something instead of going."

Corian nods her agreement, with a hint of a smile. "It does not surprise me either, that you were not told. In fact, I was not supposed to be aware of this. I suppose I managed to look innocuous when I asked, though that nice young man really should have -known- better..."

Tarrant looks rather bemused, stifling a low chuckle. "I'm just amazed they warned us at all, after the time they had to throw me bodily onto a transport to a snow world. My dislike of such has got to be relatively well known by now."

Corian steals another quick kiss before settling down against you, shaking her head. "Well, will they have to throw you onto this particular transport, whenever it comes through for us? And, to be honest, I would rather know in advance if we are to be there for an extended period of time, rather than go there expecting to be home in a few days."

"No throwing this time, I wouldn't want you to have to freeze alone see," Tarrant points out with a sheepish smile. "And I get the feeling however long it'll be, it'll be soon indeed."

With a hint of a sigh, Corian says, "I -know- it is their nature, but I really would be ever so much happier if our employers would stop being quite so closedmouthed. I got the feeling, you see, that they know exactly when the transport will arrive, and that they simply are not telling us." She gives you a quick hug, though, adding, "And thank you for not making me go freeze alone. That would be so much worse."

Tarrant sighs quietly, although he snuggles into the hug. "I swear," he murmurs softly. "There are days I just wanna go and kick them all in the shins a few good times. It'd be theraputic. I hope they wait til after I get some sleep though."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian murmurs softly, "We can go to bed now, if you like, cha'trez. And I should think that they know that you need a bit of sleep before we leave. They -were- the ones who made the error with the tape, after all."

"Nah, being curled up next to you is better than sleeping. Besides, I'm not too tired to sit here with you, just too tired to fly off somewhere cold," Tarrant does indeed snuggle a bit closer.

"They will give us the night, at least, I should think," Corian observes, nestling close. "And we will need time to organize our supplies, once they do give us the word to go."

Tarrant can't help but look pleased for a moment as he notes, "Didja' see the -lining- in my parka? Yellow plaid." Yes, he seems to think this is a good thing. "I feel better about it being gray now."

Corian looks altogether amused as she nods. "Yes, I saw, I saw. And mine is -not- yellow plaid, which pleases me quite a lot. Blue plaid is much better. Gray is a good color, though," she thinks to add. She -likes- gray.

"It looks terribly lovely on you love, yes." Tarrant knows where to agree. "And it's not like I dislike earth tones. I think all the clothing I own is in whites and browns and grays and stuff. Bright colors are just nice once in a while."

Corian confirms, with a quiet chuckle, "Like in parka linings, yes. It really is a -cheerful- yellow. Did we order gloves, yet? Perhaps those can have yellow linings as well."

"I think the glove linings are white," Tarrant answers in a bemused tone, reaching up to toy lightly with your hair. "They're the good ones with the mitten covers over the glove fingers so you can peel them back to work, but can tug em on to be really warm."

"Ooh, I -like- those," Corian murmurs, apparently pleased with this hair-playing thing. "Those are usually long enough in the finger for me, besides being very convenient."

"Ooh, I -like- those," Corian murmurs, apparently pleased with this hair-playing thing. "Those are usually long enough in the finger for me, besides being very convenient."

Tarrant seems bemused by toying with your hair, as there was one point at which you did not appreciate him doing this. "They came with the parkas, apparently they attach. The department seems to have been kind about decent equipment at least."

Corian has relaxed somewhat about the hair thing, apparently. (As that's easier than admitting that her player couldn't recall whether this was that alt.) "That is certainly appreciated," she murmurs. "And having them attach is good. They will be less easily misplaced, then."

Well that and that was before these two were a pair. Which is why Tarrant thought she wouldn't let him do it. "The tent scared me though. It seems so...well...I mean it's pretty huge and all, I've lived in efficency apartments smaller, but well against all that -snow-..."

Corian's brows quirk somewhat. "That would make sense with an extended trip, though," she observes. "More room to hide from the snow is good, though, and ice, and hail, and..." She halts her doleful recitation with a quiet sigh, instead just cuddling close.

Tarrant can't help but wince, but snuggles close and all. "That's what I mean I guess, it's big for a tent, but it seems small compared to all that. It's crated though with most of the other stuff. All packed and ready. I left out the coats and such, things we'd need immediately."

Corian nods to that, echoing your wince as she sees it. "I am sorry, cha'trez. I did not mean to bring up all the foul weather. Leaving out the coats and such is a good idea, though--will avoid us having to find it once we reach Alvand."

"S'okay, we'll be in it soon enough and it'll be okay." Tarrant replies rather sheepishly. "Anticipation's always the worst."

Corian doesn't say that she's anticipating this weather being worse than anticipated. That would just be mean. Instead, she suggests softly, "And once we get there, then we will be that much closer to home, and to getting away for a little while." There's a hint of a yawn, then, and a rueful shake of her head.

"Well deserved time off," Tarrant agrees softly. The yawn is noted with a fond smile, "Sleepy love? Shall we hit the bed?"

But, but, the bed didn't do anything to us! Poor abused bed. Er, wait, not going there. "Perhaps that would be a good idea," Corian admits. "Today started rather early, after all, and tomorrow is likely to be the same."

Tarrant slides from the couch carefully and offers you a hand up as well as a smile. "And being curled up with you is terribly pleasant, so I'm all for that."

Corian smiles as she gets lightly to her feet and takes your hand, automatically interlacing her fingers with your own as she heads bed-wards. "It will be warm," she murmurs, "Very pleasant."

Tarrant heads towards the bed, although tonight he does take the time to haul on sweats. He's tired, but he likes sweats. It's warm. Too many references to cold tonight. He slips into the bed with a yawn, "All the warm we can get while we're here."

Corian pulls on pajamas as well, though not sweats, it may be noted. She probably doesn't own sweats. She climbs into the bed as well, curling up close. And, for a miracle, her player remembers that there are lights, and she waves them dark. "Warmth and cuddling and you," she murmurs. "This is the perfect way to end the day."

Tarrant tucks himself around you. See, he's coarse and stuff. Sweats are good. They go with the spurs. Well, not -with- the spurs, but with the whole spur image. Curling protectively around you he sighs in a sleepy fashion, "I swear, if I could go back in time to tell myself in the past I would be this happy, I'd've never believed me."

Corian steals a drowsy kiss, murmuring, "I know exactly what you mean, cha'trez. It is beyond belief, sometimes, except that it is happening, and we are here."

Tarrant stifles a yawn a moment and then surrenders to it, snuggling in close. Warmth has shown him just how danged tired he really is, "In all the time that's been, or will be, never been anybody as happy as this..." His words trail off and he's asleep. At least he didn't mention kids this time.

And Corian would be grateful for that fact, if she made that connection. She's tired enough that she only smiles drowsily at your words, drifting right off to sleep.


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