controlledvariable | exsilium; ic inbox

[She rolls her eyes at him, but turns her attention to Mike, talking to her in that stupid way that people talk to animals.

It's not like Saul can judge her for it, considering how often she's caught him talking to Mike.

At least the whole thing keeps her amused for a few minutes, though eventually she looks over at him.]

I really did like it.

[The book, of course.

She just wants to make sure he knows that.]

[He can't judge her, no. And he won't. It's adorable.

Since he needs the few minutes to calm his shit down, he takes them, drinking a bit more of his coffee and focusing on the mug.

It almost works, but then she interrupts him with that.

And it looks like all the light in the world is in his eyes when he peers up at her with that huge smile of his and says:] Yeah?

[Ugh he's doing it again.

But she can't really complain, since it's her fault this time.]

Yeah. [She smiles back, before ducking her head with a laugh. She just can't help it.] You've set the bar pretty high, though. Better start planning for Christmas.

[Nevermind they already had a Christmas.]

[That —

That just makes it worse. Or better, he guesses.

She's anticipating a future. Christmas is two whole months away; that's a long time. She must know Saul is terrified of losing her — she woke up to find him clinging to her in the middle of the night enough times while they were in Chicago to have gotten the hint — and most days, he can't go without wondering how long this will last. It's in his nature to go looking for the expiration date on things, to anticipate the moment when whatever's going right will go wrong. He likes to be prepared.

But two months, wow.

He must be doing something right after all.]

Maybe I already have.

[She knows what she was implying, with the comment, and she meant it, so all she does is smile at him over the edge of her mug.]

Good to know I'm not the only one who can plan ahead.

[Saul laughs and looks down at his mug again, trailing his thumb around the rim.

He's thinking. Will they be back home by Christmas, or —

Hey, wait.

That's a funny thought.

Home.

~~ugh~~]

What now, McGill?

[She's tempted to tell him to take a nap, if he's going to keep being a dork.]

Nothing. 'm just happy.

[Like that's such a novel thing.

...sorry, Steph. He's going to keep being a dork.]

God, you're such a sap.

[She wrinkles her nose at him again, looking like she's tempted to throw something, but luckily the only things she has on hand is a coffee mug and Mike.]

Is this where I point out that this is entirely your fault?

[Because it is, and she knows it.

After a moment, he sets his mug down, then gestures for her.]

C'mere.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

[Yes she does.

She drains the dregs of her coffee, before gently nudging Mike out of her lap and rising to her feet, so she can set her mug down next to Saul's. Then she sits down beside him, turned so she's facing him, her smile warm and expression a little expectant, waiting for his next move.]

[He knows she does, the little liar.

Cue the wrinkle of his nose as Mike makes a small, protesting noise, and stalks off to situate herself on Remy's bed. It's a new favorite spot of hers; maybe she's mad at Saul for focusing so much of his attention on Steph lately.

Or maybe she's just being a cat.

Cats, man.

Once Steph is on the bed, Saul's next move is to cup her chin and lightly kiss her.]

[A kiss is about what she was expecting, and she's more than happy with it, curling her fingers around the back of his neck as she returns the kiss.

If she doesn't think too hard about the whole... poetry book thing, she can manages to keep the blush from coming back.]

[It's nice that she can help it, because he can't.

But he has a solution: he won't pull away until the color has faded from his cheeks.

...this could take a while.]

[That's fine, it's not like she minds kissing him; it's a good way to pass the time.

Though she does laugh into the kiss when Mike jumps up into her lap, then crosses over to Saul's.]

Hey. [cat pls] That's my spot.

[steph pls]

[Cats.

But hey, since Mike apparently wants something to do with Saul again, he turns his attention to her for a moment, scritching behind her ears.]

Hey, little lady.

[Steph takes the opportunity to kick off her shoes and flop back on the bed.]

Did Ahiru have fun on the mission?

[Completely out of left field, but she really likes Ahiru, so she hopes she had a nice time.]

I think so.

[He hopes so.

At least she doesn't seem to be mad at him anymore.]

We went all over the city. Maybe literally. It was nice.

That's good, it seemed like she could use a bit of a vacation.

[Most of them could, really, but Ahiru is young and sweet; she shouldn't have to deal with war.]

Yeah.

[Most? More like all.

Saul wriggles back a little, wishing this bed were big enough for the both of them. Not that he has objections to needing to be so close to her, but...]

I'd go back.

[Maybe that's a suggestion.]

You would, huh?

[There's something a little playful in it, but her smile is warm.]

Any particular year?

[She wouldn't mind visiting Paris, even though she knows they'd both be ridiculous about it.]

Whenever, so long as there's no revolution going on.

[No thanks.]

I think they hosted the Olympics sometime in the twenties...

Seconded.

[That would not be fun at all, even if she might like to punch some aristocrats.]

That could be fun, and I'd look cute in those dresses.

[Which is clearly the important factor.]

You so would.

[And he'd look... something in whatever they wore in Paris back then...]

Wanna go?

Yeah, it'll be fun.

[Paris. On a date.

This is ridiculous.]

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