(no subject)

[mitochondriaaya]

Aya shifted her head on the desk just far enough so she could see the clock. Eleven is what the numbers told her. Five hours after she was suppose to be home. After she was suppose to be home and...and...entertaining? That was a good word for it. Even her mind was shying away from the reality of dating Dilan.

And here she was standing him up.

Of course, he had a key to her place, always had but...she was suppose to be home. It didn't matter that she knew, logically, that he could make himself comfortable regardless just...gah.

Gah.

Gah.

She was going to put a dent in her desk with all the head thumping she did. "Just...call him Brea." she muttered at herself, ignoring the pointed looks the deputies were shooting her through the open door. "Call him and explain." and hope he didn't...high tail it? Give up? Come to his senses?

Fuck.

This? Was going to hurt. Somehow, some way..it was just going to. She knew it, because her dating luck trumped his and...and...

...and she needed to call him.

She didn't bother looking at the keypad, just dialed his cell by heart and laid the receiver next to her ear on the desk. "Ummm, so, that Dalton/Harris feud escalated this evening..." she began the moment she heard his end click on. Best to spit it out right?

Comments

[sliceitwithwind]

"Would I do that?" He'd totally do that.

Dilan set the table, grabbing things with the ease of long familiarity with the kitchen set-up. A lifetime of familiarity with the kitchen set-up, really.

"Do you want me to grab drinks? I'm thinking water for me, tonight." he wants his head on straight.

[mitochondriaaya]

"Yes, you'd do that." She knew him! "Shamelessly and with a great deal of grinning around the first mouthful." And she'd giggle, as he always looked adorable when he did so.

"And yes. I have limeade in the fridge, so half that, half water for me?" Since she tended to leave concentrate in the jug fro when Dilan visited and water other glasses accordingly? The sugar was already on the table, and she could dance around him to get napkins and such...

[sliceitwithwind]

Not the A-word! Not the A-word!

"Limeade for you, water for me. Got your evil white stuff already?" Sugar, he means. He headed for the sink to fill one glass with water, and the other half-way, before adding limeade to her glass and setting them on the table.

[mitochondriaaya]

Totally the A-word! Just quietly! In her head!

"Yes, on the table, in the 'Dilan won't touch this' container!" She laughed and tweaked the end of one of his dreads as she passed. "I'm sorry you don't like it, isolate me some fructose for my table sugar and you won't have to wrinkle your nose at me!"

[sliceitwithwind]

"Ahh, good." At her comment he got a thoughtful look, "...I could do that. I wonder why nobody has thought of it before?" and then wandered out of the room to find a pad of paper and a pen.

He'd come back to this reality when she served! Really!

...She didn't think dating him would change him, right? Right.

[mitochondriaaya]

She probably would have freaked if it changed him that much! "Sorry, I should have grumbled sooner!" Yes, she was dishing things onto plates, and setting the serving bowls out for more...salad dressing, silverware...

"Dilllllllan! Dinner! Plus, I'm totally going to figure out how to make proper cookies with the fructose if you get it to me!"

[sliceitwithwind]

Dilan wandered back with a pen behind one ear, another one jabbed into his topknot, and a third between his teeth...all in addition to the one he was scribbling notes with. He settled into his chair absently and stuck the pen between his teeth next to the other one in his topknot and finished a line before looking up and smiling at her,

"It'll probably take a few months to really get it banged out. I've got the idea, though, so...we'll see."

He had no idea how many pens he had stuck in various places. He tended to get distracted by something being the "wrong" colour and having to find the "right" pen and...things happened?

[mitochondriaaya]

"Well, that gives me time to decide which cookies I want to subject you to first." And she'd probably take months of fiddling herself to make sure textures came out okay before she served them to the boys! "Hold still, you're sprouting office supplies. And if I don't catch them in the early stages they'll root and multiply!"

So, time to pluck four pens from him! The one he'd kept using got set to the side nearby in case he needed to write more notes later. The others were tossed into a draw.

[sliceitwithwind]

"Lemon bars." WHAT IT IS A LEGITIMATE DESIRE. They always sound so good, and taste so bad! He stilled at the comment on office supplies and dipped his head so she could reach everything easily, "Mmmph, sorry. I'll put them all back after dinner."

[mitochondriaaya]

"Lemon bars then," she grinned, cupping his cheek gently once she had the pens removed. "There, you're pen free. And don't worry, writing tools migrate, it's part of their normal existence. I still have one by the phone and that's all that matters!" That said she tweaked his nose.

"Now eat, before I fret."

[sliceitwithwind]

"Yes'm, food." Food? Food is good. "You're such a good cook, Aya." and it means he can share cooking duties, rather than cook everything like he does at home with Braig. He ignored the nose-tweak (mostly, he stuck his tongue out) and dug in.

[mitochondriaaya]

"Dilan, sweetie, we chopped up anything remotely salad like and then I marinated some things for you. That's hardly cooking!" She giggled and started in on her own, cooked, chicken. "Besides, you'd drive yourself crazy if you had to two people in the family you had to cook for!"

[sliceitwithwind]

"Would not." Dilan argued, gently, "I love cooking for the two of you. It makes me feel good, right. It's how the world is supposed to be. It's good that you cook, too, and that you share it...but never doubt that I love cooking for the two of you."

[mitochondriaaya]

She waved a forkful of 'salad' at him in amusement. "I meant more logistically than anything else. You'd either come here and cook up a storm, enough to freeze for a week or a month and worry yourself to death about 'what if she got hungry and ate more' or something...or there'd be so much driving back and forth between here and your place that you'd barely manage sleep, even when you do sleep. Throw in a month of experiments coming to a head or something and..."

[sliceitwithwind]

"Bah, I'd just make you move in with us. Or us with you." It seemed like the best response to him, at least! "Or I could make triple servings instead of double servings when I do my monthly cooking and deliver. Easy, see?"

[mitochondriaaya]

"Hmmm, I've been holding the town in trust for you guys but you stay, stubbornly, away." Shame on them! Shaaaame. "And I won't move away from here. I know people here, and they know me." Because, really, they had a house in town, yes, but they mainly lived at the labs or the town near the labs!

The monthly cooking bit though..."We always manage to blow your estimates on food consumption, one way or another." One of them got sick or hurt, or had company, etc etc, and there went the food!

[sliceitwithwind]

Dilan engaged in some meditative chewing, "Maybe we could move the labs closer." HE WOULD DO IT. HE WOULD TOTALLY DO IT.

[mitochondriaaya]

THAT WAS A SCARY THOUGHT! A bit anyway. She kind of, generally, had the mental image of Dilan, and a dragooned Braig, using some really heavy duty Gravity magic aaaand...

Floating labs.

SHE KNEW THEY COULD DO IT!

"Ansem might be a little upset if you did that," She pointed out mildly. "And it would alter the tone of things here as the lab personal all moved in, then people that follow them..." Chaos. Utter chaos.

"It's moot though because I can feed myself just fine dear."

[sliceitwithwind]

"...I guess. But since I'm dating you now, I really need to find a way to balance things better." he takes a deep breath and shakes his head, "I'll figure something out."

[mitochondriaaya]

"Huh. We should have started dating sooner." She'd been missing them? A lot? "I can adjust too dear.I'm on call, naturally, but I am happy to drive up when I can."

[sliceitwithwind]

"I know." He said softly, shaking his head, "Maybe we can move the labs one town over, and live here. A forty-five minute commute wouldn't be too bad."

[mitochondriaaya]

"I don't know. Anywhere you move the labs is going to end up suddenly big. Here we can keep idiotic reporters out, and we freeze out snoopers, easy, but there? You can't restrict access. Not since Ansem is your boss, technically, you're nationally covered, often." And 'one town over' was just the same as 'in the backyard' really.

It was a puzzle, wasn't it?

And now she was chewing meditatively!

[sliceitwithwind]

"Not that big." he said with a shrug, "I mean, the labs are seriously restricted access." She's a cop and she's usually not allowed too far in, "And remember, the press doesn't like me or Braig." not with the number of cameras that they've destroyed (or, in one memorable incident, used as a proctological tool. Braig has a temper on him). Or Dilan's jewellery. Or Braig's scarring. Or Ienzo's personality.

...Actually only Even, Al, and freakin' Xenahort are allowed anywhere near the press, and they have different labs.

[mitochondriaaya]

"Yes, but you and Braig, though not media darlings, are still important." She shrugged, knowing she wasn't getting her worries across properly. "The polite reporters that find their way here end up talking to Edna, or Charles at one of the cafe's, just hearing how brilliant, rambunctious, and generally good kids you were. The impolite ones here to try to dredge things up about you both get to meet Danny, or Me, or if we're feeling nasty, Pierce." It just wasn't something they talked about.

"It's easier in the winter." Strangers stuck out better when tourist season was over.

[sliceitwithwind]

Dilan looked uncomfortable, "Then I guess we'll just...have to keep living far away. I don't want to make things harder on you."

He hated being important. He just wanted to be Dilan, a scientist. He hated the rest of it.

He really, really hated the rest of it.