9/17/99

There's a quiet fumbling at the tent's entrance and the seals are undogged as Tarrant slips in the door. In one gloved hand he's carrying a white bag. He's looking a little scruffy, this much time on a snow world has started to show, but there's a devious kind of cheer to his expression as he closes the tent back up.

Corian looks over at the sound of the less-than-canine seals. (Are seals ever canines?) Upon seeing you, she offers a smile, though that smile turns rather amusedly wary at your expression. "Good evening, cha'trez," she offers. "Did you see the talking cat, or is there something else that makes you smile like that?"

Tarrant gestures with the white bag before settling it on a low table so that he can peel off the gloves and tug off the massive parka, "Evening, love of my life, I saw no cat. But I did pick up some ice cream. Wouldja' like some? It's butterscotch and caramel and toffee n'all. Lovely stuff.""

Corian's brows go right for her hairline, and she slides the headset with which she'd been going over recordings from around her neck to its proper spot. "Tarrant, I love you dearly, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, but did you somehow fall and injure your head while you were gone today? -Ice cream-? Here? Are you not cold enough?"

Tarrant seems positively delighted by your response, and moves to take the bag to the fridge, packing it away. "I'm -freezing-," he admits. "I'm too cold to plot revenge against the department anymore, even. But it looked so -good-. All the -caramel-."

"Who in the world would -sell- ice cream here?" Corian wonders aloud. "Though I suppose that every planet must have its sadomasochists. Oh," she adds, with an amused smile, "In case you did not get the point, you may have all the ice cream. This," she notes, voice taking on an overly virtuous tone, "Is the sacrifice that I will make for you, my love."

Tarrant rummages in a drawer for a spoon, and then stops back by the fridge to re-acquire a pint container of said substance. He grins at you, trying to look innocent. "Oh, but love, you are too kind to make so great a sacrifice as this. I can but stand in reflection of your glory'n'all." He drops crosslegged, leaning a box of gear, so as to actually begin -eating- the stuff. "Mrrrm." Yes, he's shivering, but he still seems pleased. It must be awfully good. "How's your day been?"

Corian seems really kind of floored that you're actually eating the ice cream. "Cha'trez, that really is not the easiest way to get warm," she says carefully. Yes, it's finally happened. After a year and seven months of marriage, Corian is finally starting to believe what you said about being a lunatic. It took... ice cream. It takes her a moment to register your question. "My day went as they have been going. I did see the talking cat, though. Fascinating. I wish it would not have been too attention-drawing to quiz its owner on how it was made."

Tarrant is at least a cheerful lunatic. It's cold, and he's tired, but apparently this is some amazing danged ice cream, as he continues munching it methodically. "Ooh," he perks up decidedly at this. "So it was talking? I was -really- worried for a bit there I had been losing what sanity I had left. And it was -cute-. But then cats generally are."

Corian pauses a beat, idly settling a keyboard onto her lap and typing as she speaks, spidery fingers moving nimbly over the keys. "I thought you did not see the cat. It was talking, though. And it did not seem to be robotic, as far as I could tell. It was definitely cute, though." She looks just a touch sheepish. "If our schedule were not quite so chaotic..."

Tarrant echoes that sheepish expression. "I don't know that I'd want a cat that -talked- though. Imean cats are pretty good at getting the contempt across without being able to -say- that they think we're gits. A non-talking one would be wonderful, though as you say, our schedule's chaos."

Corian nods a firm agreement. "Oh, yes. I was not intending to locate a talking cat. This one was being particularly snide to its owner, and while that was amusing from my end, he did not look quite so pleased." There's a shake of her head, and a quirked smile. Yes, she was entertained. But then she inquires, "How was your day? It seems that we are getting closer to the target, yes?"

Tarrant caps off the ice cream, and goes to tuck the remainder of the carton in the small freezer. "Pretty good, I think we're just about set up. I've easy enough access to the ministry, and by now I'm as much background as anybody else around there. The ever present parkas help, for more than just keeping warm. Well, -relatively- warm. If we can just narrow it down further, we can get this over with and get out."

"Get out," Corian echoes, sounding decidedly hopeful. "That would be very nice. As much as I am treasuring the time with you, cha'trez, I would be much happier if it were time with you in the -warmth-. We will definitely have to acquire some sort of vacation time once we have finished, so that we may go somewhere to catch up on the lost heat."

"Ooh, vacation time," Tarrant seems to like this idea quite a bit. He settles back down to a seat, this time nearer to you. "We're well and truly owed it, that's a'sayin' nothing. This was just an outright cruel assignment. Cut and dried they say. CUt and dried my left foot. This is crazy."

Corian sets aside the keyboard, and comes over to join you, snagging a fuzzy blanket along the way. "It is indeed crazy," she agrees, as she does her best to sit next to you, wrapping the blanket around both. Yes, it's a big blanket. "But we are here, and nearly finished, so we may as well finish, as we have come this far."

Tarrant offers you a terribly pleased and rather fond look at the blanket sharing, and he edges closer, moving to put his arms around you and hence to share heat. "Exactly. Cause then they'll have to cough up that time off. And we can find someplace with warm breezes and no lunatics who make fish fudge."

Corian snuggles against you with a decidedly pleased sigh, then pulls just enough away that she can cast a disturbed look at you. "Fish fudge? My love, you do come across the oddest things here. I thought that the ice cream was bad enough, but, no, it does get worse." With a quiet laugh, she adds, "Thank you for not bringing any of the disturbing fudge here."

Tarrant grins at the disturbed look, but edges in closer. Linking his arms around you, he seems inclined to keep you from escaping. "Well, as many other ways as they've figured to cook fish, I'm not surprised I guess. And the ice cream was -good-. It was sweet, and positively nutritionally pointless. Now if it just weren't -cold-."

Killer Tarrant, run away, run away! (Well, actually...) But Corian doesn't seem inclined to attempt escape, instead slipping her arms around you under the happy fuzzy blanket, and cuddling close. "I am glad that you enjoyed the ice cream, cha'trez, though you will forgive me if I leave it to you. I have been having to eat enough sweets as it is. Sweet and cold is just far too distressing a combination for me." There's a curious pause, and then she inquires, "Was there fish ice cream?"

"Well, I saw -clam- ice cream, and after that I went to the other end of the case, so as to avoid whatever else might be in there." Tarrant takes a long contented breath, generally revelling in the closeness, and the slight sounds and odors that imply closeness to you. Yes, this is a man sickeningly in love. "Besides, dawdling there let me follow a couple of our potential targets, Teropt and Archea."'

Corian closes her eyes, taking a moment to forget why the trip even exists, or that it's so evilly cold outside, or any of the other stuff that she'd like not to remember. "Clam ice cream," she murmurs, before opening her eyes. "That is truly disturbing, though I suppose there are those who like it." She does nod slowly, then. "I have translations of the transcripts of those taps from the other day, if you would like to see them. There is some interesting information, particularly regarding Teropt." Of course, she doesn't move to snag the translations yet.

"Yeah, I'd like to see those. Even if it's nothing conclusive as to who our target is, it'd be good to get to understand the potential targets better." Tarrant doesn't seem particularly inclined to move either. His words hold an almost sleepy drawl as what warmth may be found starts to have some effect. Rather than fighting this, he's apparently quite content. "It's important to understand."

Corian, with a quiet sigh--see, now she has to move, poor baby--uncurls from you just enough that she may reach for a datapad. It's not that far, which is good. She curls against you once more, then, all but in your lap by this point. It's all in the cause of sharing warmth, really. "Too true," she murmurs, carefully tabbing through the transcripts that have already been read. "Whenever you would like to see them, they start here."

Tarrant's expression falls a bit as you move, but arranges himself all the better to lend warmth as you return. Warmth, shmarmth, he just likes being close. He shifts to peer lightly over your shoulder. "I guess I ought to get to reading, eh? Time and tide wait for no man." His tone is one of amused resignation. "This is just comfortable is all."

Corian, slipping an arm around you, nods just a touch wistfully. See, she's evil, mixed signals. Kissing your cheek, she says lightly, "It has been rather a busy day, though, yes? Surely you can take a bit more time before you start on that?"

Tarrant doesn't take a lot of convincing. He would much rather be with you than with the datapad. He hugs in a bit closer a moment, leaning down to try and steal a gentle kiss. "It's been an insanely busy day. And I can always set it to read it on my radio tomorrow morning during surveilance."

Corian is more than willing to hand over kisses, and also very pleased to have you closer, as is obvious by her reactions. "Tomorrow is soon enough," she murmurs, "As long as we have already been here."

"Exactly. If there'd been anything in there to give him away, you'd've spotted it, so it's just background anyhow. I'd rather spend the evening with my beautiful wife, than any silly datapad." Tarrant's words are still in that somewhat sleepy but terribly satisfied drawl. He's tired, it's cold, but he's right where he wants to be nevertheless.

Corian murmurs a vague agreement to that. "And there's nowhere else your wife would like to be," she replies. She pauses a beat, then chuckles. "Well, no, that is not quite accurate, but wherever it might happen to be, I would want you to be there."

Tarrant can't help but laugh at that, a low delighted sound as he hugs you a bit closer. "I understand, love. Trust me I do. I could wish that we were off someplace warm and bright. Or at the very least warm, I can concede bright considering your love of puddles."

"I could settle for a pool of warm water for soaking," Corian observes, with a wistful little smile. Hey, a bathing suit might be scrounged up, then. "-That- would be much better than jumping in any puddles, in my opinion." She seems altogether pleased by the hugging arrangement, though, particularly as she squeezes you for a moment. Hers. And if anybody else tries to touch you, she'll maaaaaaaim... er, no. She's not that posessive.

"Ooh, warm water, with bubbles. A hot tub. Warm entirely through," Wuh-oh, Tarrant's brain has ambled down along the warm track again. And while he's not thinking of it, he'd probably really like Corian in a bathing suit.

Corian, with a very quiet chuckle, uncurls just enough to snag another blanket, this one a touch bigger, and wraps it over the fuzzy one. "I could heat up some of that tea, cha'trez," she suggests. "And there is food that could be warmed, as well. You really should eat something more nutritious than ice cream."

Oooh, -more- warmth. Tarrant is all but melting at this, and he curls in closer in the nest of warmth. "Oh love, you're a wonderful soul indeed. Blankets are wondrous things." He shakes his head in a vague fashion, "No, cause see then we'd have to move. And all this blissful warmth would be gone. That'd be terribly sad."

Corian offers, stealing a quick kiss, "I could go get it, love. And then you could stay here in the blankets and be warm, and then be warmer when I got back." Of course, she'd probably rather stay here and stay warm, but she's hardly going to say that. "It really is no trouble."

Tarrant shakes his head in a negative gesture, tightening his arms around you. "No, see I want to be here in the blankets -with- you, see. And you need to keep warm too. The both of us court enough disaster without keeping as warm as we can."

Corian is hardly going to argue with that, and amiably cuddles closer. She does, though, lift her head to say, "I have been inside a bit more than you have, though, cha'trez, so I have not been cold as much as you have. If you wish for me to stay here, though, I will." There's a brief pause, then. "Though perhaps we should go curl up on the bed? It would be a touch more comfortable."

"I certainly wouldn't object to curling up on the bed," Tarrant admits with a sheepish tone. "It's much easier to get warm, and to generally get as close to you as I can manage. Besides, it's getting on towards late."

Corian gets carefully to her feet, then, offering you a hand. "Maybe if we move quickly, we will not get too cold along the way."

Tarrant accepts the hand, unfolding quickly to his feet to stand by you. "This sounds like a terrific idea. We can pile the blankets up and generally get warm and be comfortable and crazy. Toasty warm lunacy."

Corian laughs quietly as she makes her way over to the bed, snagging another blanket or three along the way. "No, it was eating the cold ice cream that was the lunacy, my love. Though I suppose it was worthwhile, if it tasted good."

Tarrant reluctantly sheds his boots and clambers into the bed, grinning in sleepy bemusement. "Hey, it'd been ages since I'd had any caramel. I'd've prolly eaten it outside even if I'd'a had to, for caramel."

Corian cuddles up with you, though she arranges the blankets as she does so, making quite the nest. Lots of blankets, much warmth. Oh, and she already wasn't wearing shoes, just slippery kind of things that she's not -about- to remove, even though it's kind of an odd thing to wear to bed. Hey, her player's done it. "You like caramel that much?" she inquires, starting to sound a touch sleepy as well.

Tarrant curls in close, murmuring something terribly appreciative about the nest making. The tiredness is really starting to be evident as he curls around you with a vague mutter. "Car'mel's good. And anything sweet for that matter. Like you."

Corian brushes a light kiss against your cheek. "I will have to remember that," she murmurs, expression drowsily fond and really quite sappy. "You sound as if you should get a bit of sleep, though, my love. Tomorrow is likely to be no less chaotic than today was."

Tarrant tightens his arms around you a moment before murmuring softly. "Sweetest dreams, dearest. Love you..." And with that he trails off into sleep, a still source of heat against you.

Corian doesn't take much longer to drift off to sleep, though she does take a little while to listen to your breathing and just enjoy the closeness. Of course, then, Corian sleeps.

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