[ He doesn't know what to say to her about anything, or about Peter. Severus can't change it, doesn't know how to make her feel better, and honestly feels more pressured now than he did to begin with. ]
My number changed.
[ So instead, over a day later, he's just going to say something totally unrelated. ]
[ Radio silence has been worse than a screaming match or thinly veiled frustration. She's been too proud to say anything more and too stuck on it to think about all the ways in which she probably botched it all up to do anything about it. And here they are. ]
[ That message goes through first, all on its own, and it's only in the moments in which her thumbs hover over the display and her teeth work at a spot on the inside of her mouth that Claire realizes leaving it at that might be cruel. She's frustrated, not angry. As a result, her next message comes delayed, but it does come. ]
Look, all the stuff with Peter, it's a lot of extremely personal stuff, and I'm not just going to spill it all out when you're keeping me arm's distance away for reasons I don't even know and you won't even tell me why.
Is this not actually affecting you? I don't know, Claire, you're the one who told me about it, I really am not going to try and make you say anything, I was just bloody asking about it because it was what you said you were upset about.
I don't have enough room for that conversation right now. I don't know. I don't know why I said it in the first place. It was stupid. Thank you for asking, but I can't.
[ A couple of hours later finds her navigating the stretch of hallway outside of the labs with a dull sense of purpose and a sharp prick of hesitation. She sucks at this, and she knows that. It's been thrown into sharp relief a lot more recently, and Claire knows at times that she's selfish and has to enjoy the fallout as a result of that, but she doesn't feel unjustified in being annoyed. And not even so much annoyed as just. Just. Her lungs feel like they're holding in a long drag that they can't go of, that same anxiety that swelled when Gretchen left and didn't burst until after Thanksgiving.
It's so stupid.
Familiar enough with the lab by now, she takes direction only when she stops and asks someone for confirmation. Eventually Claire spots the inky smudge of him, and, yeah, he's probably busy, but that doesn't dissuade her. When he looks up, he'll get the door sliding shut behind her and a brief but awkward - ]
[ For as badly as he's been handling his 'social life' this month, Severus wasn't lying about being busy. His workspace has taken over more tables, and he's in the middle of slicing long flat leaves into slivers with a silver knife when Claire finds him.
He raises his head, poised over his work, gloved fingertips holding down leaves, bare ones curled around metal.
He looks tired. ]
Hello.
[ It probably seems alien and insane to her, that they could go from whatever that was just after the jump to this, but it makes perfect sense to him. ]
[ Coming more deliberately into the room provides her with a more detailed look at things. Of course the space has always been occupied, extensively so, but it appears more crowded and has obviously overflown into other work spaces. Her desire to touch and poke her nose is overcome only by her knowledge that okay, now she's here, so something has to be done about it. It isn't like she can just stand in the doorway for five minutes, say hello, decide it isn't worth it, and then turn around and leave again. So she takes a couple steps into the room, heels sliding over the floor, and stops some quasi distance across from where he's bent over.
She's gone over this conversation a hundred times and a hundred different ways in her head, and she knows exactly what she's going to say as soon as she opens her mouth. ]
I'm making a painkilling potion for someone with a chronic condition.
[ Someone named Charles, who isn't in charge of Xenogen because he told Severus I can't then sulked about it for a whole fortnight. It's not Severus's fault, and now he's stuck grafted closer to the ship with a new number that means Merlin-knows-what. Thanks Xavier. ]
[ That isn't meant as some kind of pot shot, and she hopes that it doesn't sound like it. Her fingers curl over the back of a chair, and she's all the way across the room now, leaning her weight to one side as she looks at each item on the table with varying levels of recognition. Another time, she might ask if there's something that she could do to help, but not right now. Right now she's too busy stalling. ]
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My number changed.
[ So instead, over a day later, he's just going to say something totally unrelated. ]
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[ Radio silence has been worse than a screaming match or thinly veiled frustration. She's been too proud to say anything more and too stuck on it to think about all the ways in which she probably botched it all up to do anything about it. And here they are. ]
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[ Severus cares. He really does.
This is the problem. ]
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[ That message goes through first, all on its own, and it's only in the moments in which her thumbs hover over the display and her teeth work at a spot on the inside of her mouth that Claire realizes leaving it at that might be cruel. She's frustrated, not angry. As a result, her next message comes delayed, but it does come. ]
I'm glad you let me know.
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[ It's bothering you enough to have signed off of a fight with it. ]
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It's so stupid.
Familiar enough with the lab by now, she takes direction only when she stops and asks someone for confirmation. Eventually Claire spots the inky smudge of him, and, yeah, he's probably busy, but that doesn't dissuade her. When he looks up, he'll get the door sliding shut behind her and a brief but awkward - ]
Hey.
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He raises his head, poised over his work, gloved fingertips holding down leaves, bare ones curled around metal.
He looks tired. ]
Hello.
[ It probably seems alien and insane to her, that they could go from whatever that was just after the jump to this, but it makes perfect sense to him. ]
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She's gone over this conversation a hundred times and a hundred different ways in her head, and she knows exactly what she's going to say as soon as she opens her mouth. ]
What's that you're doing?
[ Okay that is not what she was going to say. ]
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[ Someone named Charles, who isn't in charge of Xenogen because he told Severus I can't then sulked about it for a whole fortnight. It's not Severus's fault, and now he's stuck grafted closer to the ship with a new number that means Merlin-knows-what. Thanks Xavier. ]
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[ That isn't meant as some kind of pot shot, and she hopes that it doesn't sound like it. Her fingers curl over the back of a chair, and she's all the way across the room now, leaning her weight to one side as she looks at each item on the table with varying levels of recognition. Another time, she might ask if there's something that she could do to help, but not right now. Right now she's too busy stalling. ]
Is it very complicated?
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