I still like the pasta. [ Smiling a little, now. Okay, putting curry on the list of things to make down the line. If Claire returns alive from the corridors-- which is a great thought. ]
Is there anything else you want to do before you set off?
[ Smiling is always, always a good sign. Claire starts ticking things off on her fingers, letting her fork clank against porcelain as she sets it down to do so. ]
Dogs are taken care of. Secure promise of unique food when I get back. Remember not to bring a metal two by four to hit Erik with if he gets mouthy. Wood, only, so I'll have to cut down a tree somewhere. [ She feels like she should throw 'tell Kate and Darcy' in there but she hasn't talked to either of them, really, since before the jump and all the unpleasantness began. It's easier to just not think about it. ] I do need to pack my bag. Thanks for the reminder. Other than that I think I'm covered. Am I forgetting anything? Should I include something else?
I think it all sounds fine. Get rest before you go. All that business.
[ Pack a sweater, etc. Is he worried? Abstractly, yes. The fact that Claire can regenerate from just about anything is a source of comfort - he just hopes the lot of them stay out of the white doors if they find them. It's just too soon. ]
[ Is he her dad? Actually, no, she is not. Going to entertain that line of thought right now. (Or ever!) While she is trying to eat some nice food with - is he her boyfriend? Claire literally has no idea - before going back into the belly of the beast. She nods in agreement and folds her arms in front of her to lean on them, looking at some point over his shoulder and then over at the refrigerator. If there is one thing she's not lacking, it's sweaters. ]
We should probably make out at some point before I leave. [ Claire frees one arm in order to stab some broccoli. Really, it's just a pretense for not looking at him in the interest of preserving her dignity. The fact that she has brought it up more than once is as surprising to her as it is anyone, since she's still not used to being so direct about what she wants even when she's presenting it in a way that could easily be construed as joking regardless of how serious she actually is. Protection is important. ] In between packing a sweater and, like, finding that board, maybe. I could probably find time.
[ He's a teacher, there's always going to be that slightly uppity sense about him-- is it parental? Severus wouldn't be able to say. His own parents were horrid, and he only has experience teaching. But. I think we're all thankful he's not Nathan. (Or Noah.)
When she says that his first instinct is to squeak a slightly nervous laugh, but he doesn't. Stop acting like a twelve year old, he tells himself. They've talked and talked and he still remembers the first disagreement they went through, a relatively minor one - she's been so consistent with just being direct, even though he can tell it makes her varying degrees of embarrassed.
So instead, he extends one arm across the counter so it brushes her elbow. ] Whatever you like would be more than fine.
[ Following that, she would like to be kissing him right now, but she doesn't. Not only because her mouth tastes like pasta and vegetables but because she doesn't need to, and she knows that. Claire straightens her arm where it's bent at the elbow to extend it properly and press the palm of her hand into the valley of his forearm. It only lingers there briefly, giving him a squeeze before she's drawing it back to her side of the table.
It's all going to be okay, she thinks, and wants to say, but doesn't. Because that feels too much like an absolute, or a jinx, before she goes out into the halls and tests the theory, and Claire doesn't want to play into the notion that, later, any of them could be saying goodbye. Sometimes it feels like they've just finally started saying hello. ]
I know. [ Claire kicks him a little in the side of his leg, just a tap with the toe of her boot, and smiles. ] Eat your not-curry-pasta.
Hm. [ Not really a laugh. Because he's. Himself. But Severus settles back to finish his pasta, only nudging her shoe back slightly.
He should probably be more anxious about spending the next unknown number of days awake, no real chance to sleep until communications fail. What a thrilling notion. He'd rather just roll into it with the same smooth determination that he does everything else with, and he'd rather spend the rest of the evening with Claire, not thinking about it.
When they're done, he'll sort their dishes out. Only fair since she made dinner. (Only slightly cheating with magic.) ]
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Is there anything else you want to do before you set off?
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Dogs are taken care of. Secure promise of unique food when I get back. Remember not to bring a metal two by four to hit Erik with if he gets mouthy. Wood, only, so I'll have to cut down a tree somewhere. [ She feels like she should throw 'tell Kate and Darcy' in there but she hasn't talked to either of them, really, since before the jump and all the unpleasantness began. It's easier to just not think about it. ] I do need to pack my bag. Thanks for the reminder. Other than that I think I'm covered. Am I forgetting anything? Should I include something else?
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[ Pack a sweater, etc. Is he worried? Abstractly, yes. The fact that Claire can regenerate from just about anything is a source of comfort - he just hopes the lot of them stay out of the white doors if they find them. It's just too soon. ]
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We should probably make out at some point before I leave. [ Claire frees one arm in order to stab some broccoli. Really, it's just a pretense for not looking at him in the interest of preserving her dignity. The fact that she has brought it up more than once is as surprising to her as it is anyone, since she's still not used to being so direct about what she wants even when she's presenting it in a way that could easily be construed as joking regardless of how serious she actually is. Protection is important. ] In between packing a sweater and, like, finding that board, maybe. I could probably find time.
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When she says that his first instinct is to squeak a slightly nervous laugh, but he doesn't. Stop acting like a twelve year old, he tells himself. They've talked and talked and he still remembers the first disagreement they went through, a relatively minor one - she's been so consistent with just being direct, even though he can tell it makes her varying degrees of embarrassed.
So instead, he extends one arm across the counter so it brushes her elbow. ] Whatever you like would be more than fine.
[ His voice telegraphs more than fine, too. ]
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It's all going to be okay, she thinks, and wants to say, but doesn't. Because that feels too much like an absolute, or a jinx, before she goes out into the halls and tests the theory, and Claire doesn't want to play into the notion that, later, any of them could be saying goodbye. Sometimes it feels like they've just finally started saying hello. ]
I know. [ Claire kicks him a little in the side of his leg, just a tap with the toe of her boot, and smiles. ] Eat your not-curry-pasta.
no subject
He should probably be more anxious about spending the next unknown number of days awake, no real chance to sleep until communications fail. What a thrilling notion. He'd rather just roll into it with the same smooth determination that he does everything else with, and he'd rather spend the rest of the evening with Claire, not thinking about it.
When they're done, he'll sort their dishes out. Only fair since she made dinner. (Only slightly cheating with magic.) ]