KUDOS TO CLARA'S PLAYER FOR HER WONDERFUL SURGERY STUFF DURING THIS RP SESSION!
You head towards the Medical Bay.
Medical Bay
Even the circulation of air can't quite keep the antiseptic smell from this room. Immaculately clean, the tiles of the floor are the same pristine white as the walls. Gadgets and gizmos abound. The highest medical technology available for all the races that might conceivably come to the station are present. A pair of beds near the door provide places for emergent cases, their bioscan devices ready for monitoring. Doors lead to rooms for surgery, short-term care, and long-term care. (OOC note: To set your room doing, try 'I'm <doing>'.)
Contents:
Tara, standing by the door.
Clara, standing by the door.
Obvious Exits:
Short Term Care Chief's Office Elevator Lounge
You arrive from the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Greer arrives from the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Greer has arrived.
Clara is just walking out of the hallway from long term care, sketching something in a medical chart with a pen, a pencil tucked behind her ear under carefully pinned up curls.
"Doctor Claaaraaaa!" Guess who. Greer bounces toward the major, arms held out for a hug. Tara acks quietly, straightening up- she'd been about to lean on the reception desk. "Greer, don't, she's probably busy..."
Clara's eyes snap up at the greeting, a broad smile rapidly spreading over her face, and she snaps the record shut just in time to crouch down and hold her arms out to catch the child into a return hug. "Why, if it isn't the prettiest girl in Copper Hill! Where did you come from, darling?" she wonders, casting a grin over the girl's shoulder at Tara.
Greer grins happily, twisting in the doctor's arms to point back at her mother. "I came from her!" Tara blushes, but grins in return, and gives a wave as she approaches the pair. "Hey there, Clara. Sorry, I was offplanet yesterday. If ya commed about the surgery, I completely missed it."
Clara snickers and leans her chin on Greer's shoulder snickering cheerfully. "You most certainly did, dear, although that was some time ago. You're quite a big girl now." She straightens easily, one hand still resting where her chin had been. "It's no probably, Tara. I actually was already in surgery all day, so I was unavailable. How's your schedule today looking?"
Tara's eyebrows rise in faint surprise. "Free. Pulled a double route yesterday, so I've got today off."
"Almost seven years ago," Greer nods her agreement. "Today we came from the Fruvous, if that's what you meant?" She glances down at herself, then up at the two women. "I -am- a big girl," the child observes. "But I'm going to get even bigger. The average height for a human adult female," she recites, "Is five feet seven inches."
"That's actually what I mean," Clara assures the child with a grin and a nod. "That is indeed the average height, although not everyone ends up there. I'm not...I don't believe your mother is. It just depends on your genetics." She ruffles the child's hair lightly, then lifts her brows at Tara. "Double shift? Poor you..but yes, today is fine. We could do this here soon. I'll need to wait for Jones to get back from lunch though, if that's all right?"
Tara blinks, and nods with a wry grin. "No time like the present. No sense in putting off the inevitable. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera." She gestures toward Greer, who's starting to look around in fascination. "Did he object to the... slumber party?"
"Genetics?" Greer inquires absently, puzzling over a speculum.
Clara glances to one side slightly, looking somewhat sheepish as she heads over to put the chart she has into a cabinet, then move to another cabinet to tug out another chart. "He doens't mind in the slightest, to my knowledge. He was all but asleep when I asked, though. He'll stay downstairs though, and catch up on work. And genetics...oh, goodness. Why don't we talk about that later, dear? It's very detailed."
Greer looks up with a grin. "Okie dokie. Complicated's good. It's challenging."
Tara gives the good doctor a curious look for the sheepicity, though she chuckles a little. "He would take it for an excuse to overwork himself some more. Something wrong, Clara?"
"Hmm? Oh, no, nothing's wrong," Clara assures with an affable smile, shaking her head and moving to a locked wall panel to unlock it from her set of keys and start putting instruments on a tray. "And I don't know that he'll overwork...hopefully he'll get a good night's sleep on the couch in his office. It's a wonderful couch."
Greer trots along behind Clara, peering at the instruments curiously. "What's that do?" she asks, pointing to one.
"Let's see," Tara chuckles. "He's male. He's Navy. He's Addison. C'mon, Clara, he's gonna overwork. Need to send -him- a pizza or something."
"This one stimulates the optic neural connections to simulate natural movement of prosthetic implementation," Clara explains to Greer amiably, pulling out more instruments. "And actually, I'll send him gyros. He adores Greek food, even if I can't cook it to save my life. I keep meaning to get together with Ela to let her show me, but our schedules have been a mess."
Greer blinks at all the big words. "I'll ask again later. Like in a couple of years."
Tara shakes her head with a snicker. "What is it with Greek food around here? Alright, gyros it is. Fair price for driving him out of house and home for a couple of days, I suppose." She nods to that last, noting, "All this time, and I still haven't managed to meet her."
"Not to worry, Tara. She's a difficult lady to catch, given her diplomatic duties," Clara explains, closing the cabinet and handing the tray off to an intern. "Sterilize these and prep OR for both optic and cosmetic procedures," she requests, then grins down at Greer. "You're more than welcome to watch the operation if you think it won't be too gross, darling."
Tara's mouth quirks. "I just wanna try those brownies I keep hearing about."
Grossness is not something that would ever phase Greer, and her eyes light up. "Really! That'd be so neat! Besides, it's never too early to start learning."
"I need to learn to bake said brownies," Clara admits with a laugh, then lifts her brows down at greer as she moves over to make a few notations in the chart. "You'll have to wear a mask and skullcap and promise not to touch anything. Do you think you can do that?"
Greer pauses to think about that, then looks up with a solemn nod. "Not touch anything. Cross my heart, salami on rye." Tara laughs a little, watching the prepping with only a little trepidation. "Ah, so you've had these wondrous taste treats, have ya?"
"Honestly? I actually haven't, I don't think. But I'm willing to trust the reviews from various folks in Security that have had said brownies." At that moment, Jones returns from lunch, and Clara glances up with a grin. "Hey, remember that procedure I asked you about? Up to helping this afternoon?"
Jones lumbers in amiably as ever, and nods affably. "Sure think, Doc. Afternoon, ma'am. Hey there, kid, how's it going?"
Greer turns on the cute rays, beaming up at Jones. "-You- get to help Doctor -Clara-?" This requires awe, see. Tara shifts slightly, giving Jones a curious look and a wave. "That reminds me," she mumbles. "I've got to get over to Security at some point and ply the cute one with food."
"I get to help the Doc, you bet. I've worked with her on lots of procedures," Jones rumbles with quiet amusement, a twinkle in his eyes as he leans a large hand down to pat the girl on the head.
Clara laughs easily, shrugging out of her lab coat easily. "Don't let him fool you, ladies. He's one of the best doctors around. Greer, Tara, this is Dr. Jones. Jones, this is Tara and Greer Valentine."
Greer finds herself with another new hero. "Ohhhh, you're so lucky!" Catching Clara's words, she gasps. "You're a doctor too? How many doctors are there around here anyhow? Nice to meet you," she adds as an afterthought.
Tara chuckles softly. "Me being the Tara one. Thanks for helping out today, Doc," she nods to Jones.
Clara moves to another cabinet to tug out scrubs along with an extra mask and skullcap, and delivers the former to Tara and the latter two to Greer. "Tara, go ahead and change into these, will you? You know where the changing room is," she adds, gesturing down the hall. Jones, let's get scrubbed up."
Jones nods at Clara affably, then grins down at Greer. "I'm a doctor too, yes. There's four of us here, two military, two civilian. If you'll excuse me for a moment, miss? I gotta get clean."
Tara nods, slipping on down the hallway, giving the scrubs an amused look as she does so.
Greer nods wistfully, eyes sparkling. "Four," she murmurs, almost to herself. "All sorts of people to learn from."
Clara and Jones both retreat to the places they need to go to change into scrubs and surgery aprons, returning nearly at the same time. Clara grins over at Greer, then ties up her mask over her face. "Okay, see how I have all my hair up under the skullcap, and this mask over my face? I need you to do the same, Greer," she suggests as Jones heads on into OR.
Greer's eyes flick over Clara's costume thoughtfully, then she nods, reaching back to rearrange her long hair into a not-exactly-neat bun. She giggles, too, as she dons the scrubs, and even more when her mother emerges sheepishly, clothed for surgery. "Mama said this is minor stuff you're doing today?"
Clara nods amiably, flashing Tara an encouraging smile and gesturing at the doors to surgery. "It's relatively minor, yes. There's certainly no danger to her life, and it's cosmetic, although it's a definite psychological boost. If you ladies will follow me?" she suggests, heading in as well.
Clara passes through the swinging doors to the Short Term Care ward.
Clara has left.
You pass through the swinging doors into the Short Term Care ward.
This is the Operating Room. Really.
Greer comes in from the medical bay.
Greer has arrived.
Tara's mouth quirks as she pads into the room. "Psychological boost... Like I need a bigger ego or something."
Clara snags a rather tall stool with one foot and wheels it to a place that can see the procedure but will be out of the way, then turns to try and help Greer up onto it. "Here we are, dear. You should be fine right here. If you feel sick at all, get one of the nurses to take you out and they will, right away. Tara? You're table awaits, ma'am," she offers, turning to pat at the proper table.
Greer lifts her arms to make said helping easier, wiggling a little in her excitement. "Okie dokie. I won't, though."
Tara smiles wanly, moving to hop onto the table. "I can't believe I'm voluntarily going under the knife."
Jones chuckles at that, already moving to check the various instruments while Clara works on inserting an IV and setting up the inhibitor, chuckling. "Now, now, now...I don't use a knife very often. Lasers are far more convenient, especially for this work. You'll be getting sleepy now, Tara," she murmurs, since these are the full knock-out drugs.
Tara nods slightly, tensing up a bit before the drugs force relaxation. "Rah... technologyyyy..."
Greer watches with wide eyes, trying to take in everything all at once.
Clara actually seems to be the assistant here, Jones doing the primary work of slowly starting to laser away all of the scar tissue first. "Okay, Greer, here's what we're doing. See the scars, here? Both in and around the eye? The scar tissue all has to come off," Clara explains as Jones works while she hands him tools and responds to various requests. "Then we can lay on synthskin so it will grow into her own and look like there was never a scar there eventually."
Greer leans forward eagerly, almost to the point of falling off the stool. "Oh wow... so Mama'll be pretty again?" Tara would laugh, if she could, at that remark. "How... Oh! The lasers? How do you do it without hurting what's underneath?"
"Very carefully," rumbles Jones, eyes intent on his work which he regard through microscope goggles."
"It's the goggles he's wearing," Clara adds. "They're letting him see the tissue in far greater detail that you or I can see right now. And -some- of the underlying tissue will be damaged, but just a teeny bit so the synthskin can have fresh skin to graft to."
Greer eyes the aforementioned goggles. "I gotta get me some of them," she mumbles, then cocks her head. "So sometimes you gotta hurt to heal?"
"Sometimes," Clara agrees almost absently as she hands Jones layers of the synthetic skin from their synthesizer, watching while he resonates them into place. "Just a little. But we'd never do this if she were awake to feel it, not like this. Pain can be useful, but not at times like this."
Greer's nose wrinkles. "Pain's there to tell you when something's wrong, right?" She frowns a little. "Mama gonna hurt when she wakes up?"
Clara grins slightly, the crinkling of her eyes visible above her mask as she and Jones slowly put in the new skin, then go on to working on the eyesocket itself. "No, dear, she won't. Not anymore than you did when you woke up. We'll keep her on medicine for a while until the hurting stops. Right now we're getting the nerves in her eye ready for a prosthetic eye."
The little girl smiles in relief. "Good." And she giggles. "She gonna be all brain-scrambled like I was?" She leans a little to the side, craning her neck. "How's the prosth... the fake eye work? Servomotors?"
"She'll be tired and a little out of it, yes, although not quite the same since the surgery I did on you was neurosurgery, and you had to wait for your sense to straighten out," Clara explains before Jones shakes his head slowly in his work. "Not exactly, kiddo? The prosthetic works in conjunction with the nerves via electronic pulses to receptors inside of it."
Greer blinks, and remarks slowly, "You learn a lot of big words when you're a doctor, don't ya." Aw, Mom's not gonna be scrambled? There goes the plan to ask for that pony.
Clara grins slightly, taking over the delicate work for a moment as Jones reaches over to take the prosthetic and maneuvar it into place, working at a level of detail invisible to unaided sight. "We do learn a lot indeed. A lot of these things only have big words to describe them."
Greer pauses. "You need abbreviations."
Clara shakes her head slowly, both doctors quiet for a moment as the prosthetic is set into place and the final resonation starts to take place. "Too many words are similar. Abbreviations would confuse things."
Greer hmmms, then grins ruefully. "I guess we're stuck with the big words then. I'll have to check out that medical dictionary I saw in the library."
"Actually, wait on the dictionary, dear," Clara suggests, nodding and murmuring at Jones as a few more adjustments are made as he opens Tara's other eye to start synchronizing movement. "It's easier to learn the shorter words for the systems and whatnot, then the bigger words make sense much easier."
Greer sighs lightly. "No wonder it takes so long to get to be a doctor," she murmurs. "Gotta learn a whole new language."
"Have to learn several languages if you're a xenobiologist like the Doc," Jones explains, Clara smiling faintly. "She's gotta be able to discuss medical stuff with lots of different people. It's neat to hear," he explains as the doctors do the final adjustments and resonations.
Greer nods, straightening up proudly. "I'm doing that. But just one at a time. Corian said you get your accents all mixed up if you try to learn them all at once."
"She's absolutely right," Clara agrees as Jones heads over to start cleaning up, and she remains to carefully start bandaging the newly operated upon eye. "I actually only speak three languages, and Kashidian not very well. But I learned a lot of medical terminology in other languages just so I can talk to other doctors because of my specialty."
Greer blinks. "I hadn't thought of that. That'd come in handy anyhow, wouldn't it? Knowing other languages, I mean, no matter what your specialty? I mean, you never know when you'll meet up with an Edreeni doctor, or Zaeltan, or whatever."
"Exactly," Clara murmurs, inhaling a deep, relieved sigh as the final bandage is in place, looking much like the previous patch although now white. She starts to adjust the inhibitor to let Tara wake on her own. "And I do deal with many doctors of various races over the comm, since this is such a diverse area."
Greer grins. "More opportunity to learn all sorts of stuff that way. Like what a Zaeltan tail looks like." She taps the papier mache tail attached to her belt. A faint moan comes from the patient, and Tara mumbles, eyes still shut, "Just five more minutes, Ma, don't wanna go to school..."
Clara grins lightly over at the paper tail, eyes bright, then moves to Tara's side where the woman can look at her and tugs down her mask. "Tara? Tara, I'm not your mother, dear. It's Clara Aleron...you can rest more if you still want, though."
Tara's eyes blink open slowly, then she squints. "Oh..." The pilot blushes. "You don't look a think like my mom. S'sorry, Clara. No 'ffense... No offense meant," she pronounces carefully. "Greer?"
The girl goes to slip off of the stool, but scoots back onto it fully, glancing toward the doctors as she recalls the instructions to stay put.
Clara grins back at the child warmly, gesturing her over. "It's all right dear, come on over," she suggets. "You can pull down your mask too." She turns back to Tara with a gentle smile, nodding. "No offense, Tara, none. Greer's right here."
Greer beams and jumps down lightly to approach the table, one hand reaching for her mother's as she pulls her mask down. "You're not scrambled," she informs Tara with a grin.
Tara smiles in relief, albeit weakly. "There's my girl. Nope, not scrambled, not today. Fried, maybe." She reaches up with her free hand to feel at her face.
Clara reaches over to put her hand to Tara's to guide it gently to the bandaged eye with the intent of keeping the touch extremely light. "It's done, Tara. The scar tissue is gone, replaced with sythnskin, and the prosthetic is in place and synchronized with your other eye."
"Oh wow," Tara breathes, confirming the bandage's presence with a light touch before dropping her hand onto her stomach again. "I can go back to being anonymous again."
Greer beams proudly. "Doctor Clara and Doctor Jones did real good. I watched." As if her watching would've made a difference, but it makes -her- feel better.
"Well, I don't know that you'll ever be anonymous, Tara," Clara notes with a hint of amusement, shaking her head. "But you'll look much like you did before you lost the eye," she offers. "And Greer was a wonderful supervisor. I'm very proud of her behavior. You did very well, dear," she adds to the child.
Tara's mouth quirks in amusement, rephrasing, "I won't stand out so much. Normal. Average."
Greer beams. Cute rays all over the place. "Thank you! Did you hear that, Mama! And I didn't even get sick!"
Ack. Pity poor Riley, as he will have to deal with a biologically overloaded Clara after tonight, you can just bet. Still, she merely beams at the child and nods. "She didn't, and you will, Clara. You'll be back to normal, and hopefully looking less like the pirate you no longer are."
Tara blushes. "Yeah. Looking like it's bad, when ya got my rep." She turns her head to nod to her daughter with a proud smile. "I heard. You're well on your way now.
Greer can't help it. She's just cuuuuuute. Just like Dot.
Clara chuckles and moves around to start pushing the gurney in towards short term care and a far more comfortable bed awaiting there. "Much better," she murmurs, nodding at a nurse to help lift Tara onto the bed. "You'll be a lot more comfortable here, Tara. Greer, do you mind staying with me tonight?"
Tara grins as she settles down into the comfy bed, a bit of a silly expression. "Free ride, and legally high. I might even enjoy this a bit."
Greer's face cracks into a wide grin. "Mind? It'll be fun! I'll even remember my manners, promise!"
"For now," Clara agrees with a quiet laugh, carefully shifting up the blankets over the other woman and adjusting the pillow just a bit for maximum comfort before she settles to a seat on the edge of the bed, pouring a glass of water from a pitcher and offering it to Tara. "Thirsty? And I know you will, Greer. It'll be just you and me. We can have a slumber party."
Tara considers that, nods, and reaches for the glass, scooting back to sit up straighter. "Thank you."
Greer blinks, but grins. "Slumber parties are supposed to be all girls, aren't they. Riley found someplace else to stay? Did he take the fudge with him? He said I could call him Riley," she adds a hasty assurance.
"They are, yes, and Riley will be down in Security," Clara explains with a warm smile, shifting to a chair and patting at her lap in offering to Greer. "But we still have fudge at home, and cupcakes too. And if he said you should call him Riley, you most certainly should. He's a nice man."
Greer grins, clambering up into said lap and snuggling down happily. "He's very nice," she agrees. "He said I could talk to Anya someday and meet Commander Quinn too. I like the Security people. They're -all- nice. Does he make 'em be that way?"
Tara drinks the water right down, a bit surprised at herself, and sets the glass aside. "Thirstier than I thought. That anesthesia do that?"
Clara chuckles and scoops the child into her lap and ruffles her hair. "Nope, he doesn't make them be. He just expects them to be, and they are. And they're loyal too. We all are. Riley's a very, very good commander. We would follow him to the gates of He-...er, Hades, if we had to." She offers a sympathetic grin and nod at Tara. "It is indeed. There's a full pitcher there, just to your right, and if it goes empty, a nurse will refill it."
Tara's eyebrows rise at the Riley-praise, and she chuckles. "The man's hypnotic, I swear." Grinning ruefully, she reaches to fill the glass again. "You're forever anticipating my thirst. I don't suppose a blue can might be on the menu?"
"Wow." Greer's eyes sparkle. "He must give away -lots- of fudge."
Clara laughs easily, shaking her head with a grin. "Hypnotic? Only to me, and then usually when I roll over in the middle of the night and see this pair of glowing green eyes watching me." She sighs with quiet fondness, then grins. "He's just inspiring. He know's we're good, he believes in us, and he expects the best from us. In return for us being a good team, he treats us like equals. And no blue cans just yet, Tara, sorry. The caffeine will make you even more thirsty."
Tara smiles slightly, shaking her head. "That's a... a warming image. Glowing, though... he's part cat too? That'd explain the reflexes, at any rate." She sighs a little. "What will I ever do without caffeine?"
Greer listens in fascination. "He's the commander, but he treats you all like equals?" She gives her mother a dubious look before twisting around again to look up at Clara. "How's he keep control then?"
"It's the Edreeni heritage crossed with human," Clara explains with a fond grin and a pleased sigh. "I think just a genetic fluke, but I like it. And without caffeine, you will rest and do nothing for the next forty-eight hours and let my staff spoil you rotten." She smiles down at the child warmly. "He keeps control by providing a good example, and by the people that are here. The ones that can't handle his style wash out early. The rest of us, we trust his leadership."
Tara snickers quietly, lifting her glass of water as if in a toast. "Here's to genetic flukes and being spoiled rotten." At Clara's comments to Greer, she ducks her gaze to the glass and takes a drink, avoiding looking up.
Greer absorbs that thoughtfully. "He's a... what's the term?... role model?"
"Here, here," Clara agrees, then leans over to pat the other woman's knee gently. "In the past," she murmurs softly, then grins at Greer. "He's very much a role model. Even though he's my lifemate, I still respect him a great deal and learn a lot from him."
Tara nods slightly, offering a rueful smile. Greer's expression turns to one of surprise. "You learn? But you're a grownup. Does he learn from you too?"
Clara chuckles and nods firmly, attempting to hug the child. "Not only do we learn, I believe people learn their entire lives, all the way until they die. And the more active you keep your brain, the easier it is to stay young even when you look old. And...I think it's safe to say he learns from me," she agrees, gaze going slightly distant with a fond smile. "Now, why don't we let your mother rest, implet, and go home and snag dinner?"
Greer certainly doesn't object to a hug, and returns it happily. "My brain is -very- active."
Tara chuckles. "We know, hon, we know."
Ooooh. Dinner. Food. "She does have to rest, doesn't she. Like I did after my neu-ro-surgery." Greer nods. "Gyros?"
Tara groans, but snickers. "My child has been brainwashed. No pun intended."
"Gyros are -very- good," Clara agrees with a snicker, shaking her head at Tara and settling Greer to the ground before climbing to her own feet. "You rest now, Tara, get some sleep. It'll help a lot. And fear not, I promise to take good care of the kidlet, right Greer?"
Tara wrinkles her nose, but obediently reaches for the button that lowers the head of the bed to a lesser incline. "Ah, I know ya will, Clara." And not just because she knows the cute rays form an Aura of Sanctuary +3. "I appreciate you looking after her."
Greer moves to the side of the bed, standing up on tiptoe to kiss her mother's cheek, and affects a stern voice, her eyes impish. "Now you go to sleep, and do everything the nurses tell you." Tara rolls her eyes, and Greer giggles, returning to Clara's side.
Clara grins at the woman and nods. "Not a problem of course. Rest well, Tara," she offers, then reaches for Greer's hand and heads out the door, presumably towards home.
Greer trots along, one hand in the doctor's, the other waving until the pair disappear. Tara waves back, but looks more than relieved to settle back into the pillows and close her eyes.
Clara heads out the swinging doors into the Medical Bay.
Clara has left.
Greer heads out the swinging doors into the Medical Bay.
Greer has left.
***** Travelspam deleted *****
Greer> Room Z13
Greer> The dominant feature of the room is all the built in shelving. Wherever the walls are not taken up with furniture, a door, or a window, there are shelves. Shelves wrap their way around the cooking unit, over and around the room's four doors, to either side of the massive sleeping unit set into the wall, and above and beside the picture window. Beneath the window, which overlooks the Pavilion below, is a scooped window seat, fully long enough for an Edreeni to stretch out on. The ceiling has been painted a soft sky blue and marked with brushed white, almost like a swirl of clouds, providing some light to the darkness of the shelves. The carpeting is a rich blue to compliment the ceiling's shade. A rather long and battered couch and massive coffee table take up a chunk of the empty space and face the comm unit and flatscreen. A large table serves dual purpose as a dining area and a desk.
One door leads out into the hall, another into a white tiled bathroom, a third into the closet, and a fourth into a small side room. (+view is available)
Greer> Contents:
Greer> Clara
Greer> Obvious exits:
Greer> Music Room Out
Greer> Clara tosses her keys to the dining table, then tugs the skull cap off her head and settles it by the keys. "Welcome to Casa de Addison y Aleron," she offers with a grin and a relieved sigh. "Oooh, it's good to be home. Tell you what, plunk down on the couch and give me a minute to change clothes, and then we'll rustle up dinner, okay?"
Greer> "Casa de...? Addison and Aleron I recognize." Greer nods, glancing around as she moves to the couch and plunks. "Rustle? We won't have to slaughter the steer ourselves, will we?" She seems quite anxious. "I can do vegetarian, if need be."
Greer> Clara heads into the closet, calling out from within it, "It means 'house of Addison and Aleron'," she explains, the sound of cloth rustling and hangers clinking sounding. "This is where Riley and I live." She emerges a moment later in sweats, a huge t-shirt, and plain white gym socks, already unpinning her hair and grinning. "Nonono, I'm just going to call and have gyros delivered here, and have one delivered to Riley's office."
Greer> Greer takes a deep breath, and nods. "This place has his... I can tell he's here a lot." She giggles, looking relieved. "Ordering food is good. You did surgery twice today? You're probably tired. Ordering food is even better then."
Greer> Clara pauses a moment to shake her head, now free of hair pins, to let her curls poof out wildly. "It has his touch, certainly. The penguins, and all. There's a quilt on the bed, I'll have to show it to you. I made it for him for his birthday. It's got penguins all over," she adds with a grin, heading for the comm to tap in a code and give the quiet order. "There...food ordered." She tilts her head at the girl thoughtfully. "Hmmm...pajamas. Do you have some downstairs? Or would you just want to wear one of my t-shirts?"
Greer> Greer 's eyebrows shoot up. "You -made- a quilt? How?" She nods thoughtfully. "I did see penguins when we saw him. They're funny-looking." The child blinks, and blanches. "I don't think Mama was expecting to walk in and get operated on. I didn't bring anything... You wouldn't mind me wearing your t-shirt?"
Greer> Clara heads over after settling the comm down to tug down the bed to reveal a quilt with alternating black and white squares, the white squared embroidered with penguins in various scenes. The back of the quilt is a terribly soft, dark gray flannel. "I did indeed, by sewing. It took me most of a year, but he likes it a lot, so it's worth it." She grins warmly, shaking her head and heading for the closet again. "I don't mind in the slightest. Tell you what, you know how to work a shower?"
Greer> Greer gets up and reaches out with a reverent finger, glancing up for permission to touch. "It's -pretty-. A whole year? Wow! You must have a lot of patience." She blinks, and giggles. "Not the people kind, I mean." The little chin lifts proudly then dips in a nod. "Yep. Mama built one where we live."
Greer> "I knew what you meant," Clara offers with a gentle smile, returning with a t-shirt emblazoned with ferrets and spaceships. "Go ahead and touch it, it's meant to be slept under. Tell you what. Why don't you head into the bathroom then and get a shower while we wait for dinner to be delivered, all right? And I'll call Riley and tell him dinner's on the way to him."
Greer> Greer runs a hand down the quilt, a smile on her face. "It's so -soft-. No wonder he likes it so much. Oh!" She nods agreeably, skipping over to peer at the shirt curiously before reaching for it. "Now you sound like Mama," she giggles, glancing around, then heads in the correct direction, disappearing shower-wards.
Greer> Clara watches after the girl at the pronouncement that she sounds like her mother, expression very clearly saying that the clock is jackhammering. With a soft sigh and a headshake, she turns away to head back to the comm and await the gyro delivery.
Greer> Clara says "Hey, sailor? Just a heads up, love. We've got company tonight, in the form of that painfully adorable kidlet of Tara's. I've got Valentine in Medbay for tonight and tomorrow, so I'm taking care of her kid. I also just ordered gyros...they should be delivering one to your office here in about ten minutes." into her communit.
Greer> Clara's communit crackles to life and says "Hwuh?"... Riley... that...." in Riley's voice.
Greer> Clara says "*quiet laughter* Hwuh to you too, darling. And you're welcome. Riley?" There's a long, quiet pause. "Just wanted you to know I love you. Don't work too hard tonight." into her communit.
Greer> Clara's communit crackles to life and blares "And... love... much. And... kids." in Riley's voice.
Greer> Clara says "Kids are always kids, and this one is terribly adorable. We're having a slumber party. You're welcome of course, but I can guarantee that we won't keep you up all night giggling." into her communit.
Greer> Clara's communit crackles to life and blares "... could... sleep... y'all... me... to... slumber..." in Riley's voice.
Greer> Clara says "Oh? Love, you're more than welcome, don't worry about that. Good heavens, the child thinks you're fantastic. But I'll leave it up to you. Besides, you have fudge. This makes you a god, didn't you know that?" into her communit.
There is no mail in your mailbox.
Greer> Clara's communit crackles to life and announces "... me... have... value." in Riley's voice.
Greer> Clara says "True enough, sweetheart. And I know you sleep well on the couch in your office. But if you want to come home and crash, feel free too. Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads up as to our houseguest and to food headed your way. I love you, Greg." into her communit.
Greer> Clara's communit crackles to life and says "And I... too,..." in Riley's voice.
Greer> Clara says "Fun, check. Goodnight, darling. Aleron out." into her communit.
Greer> Clara sighs happily, setting the comm aside just in time to hear the knock on the door, and heads over to answer it and pay the delivery boy before heading into the kitchen, humming a quiet aria from some opera or another.
Greer> Greer pops out of the bathroom, tshirt-clad, as soon as she hears the door shut, and pads kitchenward, clutching her stuffed moose in both arms. "Food? I can smell it. Who's Greg?"
Greer> Clara is pulling plates from a cabinet as well as glasses. She glances over her shoulder with a fond smile. "Oh, you've a friend! Hello there little moose," she offers, then returns to settling the gyros on the plates. "Greg is Riley, actually. Riley Gregor Addison? I believe he hates the name except from me."
Greer> Greer holds up said moose. "This is Murray. He's my best friend. Tarrant introduced us." She blinks. "Oh! You call him by his middle name?" The girl pauses, padding over to watch the food preparation, and mumbles, "I think it's a very nice name."
Greer> "Hello, Murray," Clara greets brightly, reaching down to tap the moose on the nose cheerfully, then carrying both the plates over to the table, then returns to fill both glasses with iced tea. "And I do call him by his middle name occassionally. It's...like a pet name. What I call him when I really want him to know that I love him."
Greer> Murray waves his little arm, with a little help from Greer, of course, who trails along cheerfully. "Ohhhhhhhh. That's so ro-/man/-tic! Hmmm. Do you know what Mister Korval's middle name is?"
Greer> "Mr. Korval?" This throws Clara for a moment as she takes the iced tea glasses to the table and slides into a chair and waves at the other chair. "Pull up a seat and dig in, darling. Shan! Oh, Shan. YOu know, I don't know it off the top of my head. Danz? For some reason that seems like it, but I might be wrong. And I suppose it is romantic. Riley's a very romantic man." She pauses and winks with a grin. "That's a secret. Not many people know that."
Greer> Greer plops again, this time on the chair, and reaches eagerly for the food. "Very hungry," she mumbles around a blissful bite, and nods after she swallows. "His name is Shan? Shan Danz Korval. It's easy to say, anyway. He's nice. Mama likes him." She grins, wiping a trail of sauce from her chin. "I won't tell anybody. Cross my heart, salami on rye."
Greer> Clara snickers, scooting the basket of french fries in the middle of the table to be shared, then snags one to go right on into her own dinner. "I'm hungry too. And yes, his name is Shan. He is a very, very nice man. I'm very glad he works in Security. And thank you," she adds with a wink. "I'll have to show you some of the toys we have after dinner. Are you sleepy at all?"
Greer> Greer cocks her head curiously, reaching for a handful of fries. French fries- manna from heaven as far as kids are concerned. "How come you're glad... Toys?" Now -there- is a distraction. Glancing toward the door, though, Greer does blush a little, nodding sheepishly, and admits, "A little. I'm trying not to yawn."
Greer> Clara chuckles, sipping at her tea before going back to work on downing her sandwich. "We have all -sorts- of toys. Now, over on that shelf, you see parts of a toy all spread out? I'd say you could play with anything in here but that. That's a toy Riley is putting together, and it's fragile. And goodness, darling, you don't have to hide that from me. Would you like to sleep after dinner? Riley won't be home tonight, and the bed is huge since he's as big as an Edreeni. I figured we could both fit on it."
Greer> Greer's eyes flicker toward the shelf, and she nods an acknowledgement. "I won't touch it," she promises solemnly. "What's it going to be?" Reluctantly, she nods. "Watching the surgery took a lot of energy. I was concentrating hard. I bet you're even tireder."
Greer> "It's going to be a toy train," Clara explains with a smile, settling aside her plate and sipping at her tea while she waits for you to finish as well. "With a working engine and everything. I'll see if he'll show it to you when it's all done. Come now, then. Finish up, and we'll both hit the hay. I'm terribly sleepy too."
Greer> Greer's eyes widen. "A toy train?" she breathes in between quick bites. "Oh, that'd be neat!" She glances toward the shelf again. "He'll be working on it a long time unless he takes it to his office." The girl nods and wastes no time downing the food, finally briskly dusting crumbs from her hands.
Greer> Clara climbs to her feet to start taking over dishes to the kitchen and transfer them to the washer. "He'll likely be working on it a while, yes," she agrees thoughtfully. "Actually we work on it together when we can. It's a lot of fun."
Greer> Greer grins. No wonder it's not finished yet. "That sort of makes sense," she nods thoughtfully, watching you. "The det... dex... nimbleness you use in surgery can be used on the little tiny parts."
Greer> >>OOC: Greer says "That 'no wonder', of course, meaning sort of a 'I'd take my time on it too, in those conditions!'" ;)
Greer> Clara finally starts the washer and settles a dishtowel neatly over a rack, nodding amiably. Yes, this is a seriously neat apartment. With two soldiers living hear, the place is conspicuously clean. "It does indeed, and when we start assembling it, I'll definitely have to help with some of the smaller parts, although he's very dextrous himself, certainly. Now...what say we snag stuffed animals and go climb in bed and get warm?"
Greer> Greer stands up, waggling her fingers. "He's got giant fingers though. You'd be better at that part." You can imagine what her mother's reaction would be to the dextrous comment. "You got stuffed animals?" She's thoroughly delighted. "Whatta ya say, Murray? Wanna make some new friends?" She looks up with a sleepy grin. "Murray says that sounds like a good idea."
Greer> Clara grins and starts to snap off lights, all but the single one just above the bed, and starts to tug down stuffed penguins from the shelf above the bed along with a pair of stuffed bunnies. "I do indeed, we both do. And Murray will like them, I think. Come on now implet, climb on in, don't mind the neon green sheets. THey're fun."
Greer> Greer giggles, clambering up into the bed, and snuggles down happily beneath the covers. "They're pretty. The sheets, I mean. Is that why you made the quilt those colors? So it'd go with any color?" Murray gets walked along the quilt to peer at the penguins and bunnies, and Greer giggles again. Yes, she giggles a lot. "He likes 'em."
Greer> Clara clambers into the bed afterwards, as it really is a huge piece of furniture. It would have to be to fit two rather tall adults, one of which is generally RIley. "Actually we've had the sheets a long time. I just like them because they're fun." She reaches over to pat Murray, then snaps off the light and settles down with a pleased sigh. "There now...comfy?"
Greer> Greer nods, tucking Murray into the crook of her arm. Already her eyes are threatening to shut. "You need..." SHe yawns. "You need a rocking chair."
Greer> Clara's eyes reopen in the dark at this as she yawns as well, turning onto her stomach and heaving a pleased sigh of someone vastly glad to be in bed at the end of a long day. "I need a rocking chair? What for?"
Greer> Greer's response comes as a mumble as sleep overcomes her. "For bedtime stories and rocking cute little girls to sleep..."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Greer> Clara sighs softly and reaches out to smooth the girl's hair back then tucks her hand comfortably back under a pillow. "If I had a little girl," she murmurs, almost inaudibly, then a hint louder, "Goodnight, Greer. Sleep well, dear."
Greer> Greer mumbles something unintelligible, but her lips curve in a contented smile.
