Steaks, Bruises and Kisses

[Chuck Carmichael] Post-hacking (and drinking way too much diet Mountain Dew, and eating quite a few to many mint Oreos), after Riley goes for her booty call, Chuck stays to hang out for a bit. He's still . . . lacking, somehow, but he can tell Molly's stressed and so after everything's shut down, after he's checked his glucose levels, he finds his way to the red love seat and pats the seat next to him. "I'll rub your neck and shoulders, if you want," he offers lightly, easily.

[Molly Quincannon] Riley, entirely triumphant, has gone off for booty call. This leaves Molly and Chuck to sort out whatever it is that they are going to sort out. For Molly, it's all about backing up data, closing her various programmes and generally moving from "High-Powered Hack Machine" to "Bog Standard Box".

Chuck's offer comes between the end of the power-down process and the diagnostic she wants to run on ForceFeed - some of that went way more wrong than she liked. That's likely the only reason she hears it; she does get so focused on a task. She looks at him through the gap between two monitors and says, "I thought you were the stiff and sore one. Shouldn't I be doing that to you? Or would that be bad for bruises." No accusation - just sad and worried and, behind it, stress. "And you know I can't drag you to my car if you go into sugar-shock, right?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "They're mostly just colorful, now." It's with a shrug, easy-going - he always is. That, and even-tempered. There's very little that actually gets a rise from Chuck. "And stiff and sore will go away with another hot shower, I bet. You're all tense, though."

More frantic than usual, maybe, or something - and he doesn't know if it's because of the hacking that went down, because of the do overs that happened leading up to it, or what. Sure, he's a mind reader, but he's not that good, and he hasn't been given (or asked for) permission. The bit about sugar shock just gets a rueful shrug, and a nod to the cookies that he's closed back up, and the healthy snacks she still has out and about. "I'll be alright. There's plenty of fruit, vegetables and protein around to help even me out."

[Molly Quincannon] "Okay," is the comment about the sugar shock and evening out. "You know you can help yourself to anything in the little fridges, right? I was actually thinking of trying my hand at steaks, before Riley wandered. I have one of those little charcoal grills, and I don't figure I can really screw up a steak too badly. If protein is a thing, anyhow."

Then there's the bit about the tension, and she sighs. "Well, yeah, I am a bit tense. If you're fond of understatement. I'll get over it. I think. There's just ... stuff. I talked to Israel. About that whole 'potentially being tailed' thing. It ... could be bad. Like, bad bad." Another sigh. "I'll find out as best I can, but it's not going to be easy."

[Chuck Carmichael] "I've got faith in you," he says. "If it's there to find, you'll find it. You always do, right?" This is said in part to make her feel better and in part because, from what he knows, she does; Molly always gets her man, or woman, or whatever. She has a better success ratio than he does, from what he can tell, and goodness knows he's been working at it since . . . well, since he was a kid, minus time when he wasn't allowed an internet connection. Given what he knows, he has no reason to doubt that she'll come out with flying colors.

Maybe a few burns here and there, or similar, but she'll win in the end.

"Steaks sound awesome. Anything I can do to help?"

[Molly Quincannon] That gets a chuckle and she moves over to the loveseat. Diagnostics on her ForceFeed app can wait. "Thanks. That helps. It'd be easier if I could do it by computer, to be honest. They've all got that Arcane see-me-not garbage that gives me such a headache, though, so actual usable intel is thin on the ground in that respect. Israel's got some names, which will tell me more when she passes those dossiers over. Thing is, I don't know which side is watching me anyway. So I'm going to have to be more ... direct." Which means, of course, that she's planning direct confrontation. Alone, from the sounds of it - she is being rather cagier than normal. She's planning a direct confrontation, and Molly the Overconfident is nervous about it.

She changes the subject to the steaks, though. "Um ... dunno. Tell me how you like yours? I don't think lighting the barbeque will be hard, but I've never done it before, so you might want to walk me through that too. Otherwise I might just resort to HeatAmp and that never goes well." She extends a leg for emphasis, remembering what happened last time she used it.

[Chuck Carmichael] Once she's sitting, Chuck adjusts so he can rub her neck and shoulders - gentle but firm - with hands calloused from years of rowing and guitar playing. It's not the best massage she could get, certainly, but it feels nice to have hands on skin. He's quiet for a long moment, then it's the first bit that gets answered first - it's the more dangerous bit, after all. "Don't go into it alone," is what he says when he finally speaks, and it's quiet in deference to proximity, but intense none the less. "I know you're awesome and you think you can do anything. And you can do a lot. But sometimes everyone needs backup, you know?"

He doesn't necessarily expect her to take the advice, but he gives it anyway. Better to have it out there and said than not, whatever ends up happening. Then, though, there's the lighter subject at hand.

"Yeah, I can show you how to light a grill. It's mostly about airflow, and making sure the coals are just right. And I like my steak medium rare."

[Molly Quincannon] Anyoen familiar with guitars and the playing thereof know the feeling of strings tuned too tight, on the verge of snapping. That about covers what Molly's neck and shoulder muscles feel like right now - like someone's twisted the pegs on her tendons until they're about yay close to snapping. "I don't want to risk anybody else," she murmurs. "I'd go psychotic if I pulled anyone else into my mess. You've got to know what that's like, Mr All-Over Bruises. Awesome I am, but I'm not entirely immune to guilt." Suddenly, she might not be talking about this confrontation thing anymore, but she goes back to it fairly quickly, dodging a sensitive sort of topic. "Anyway, it's not what they'd do that worries me."

Then, the meat preference, and "...Right. Hopefully I can figure out medium-rare. Hopefully you won't mind too much if I can't. Mmm." This as Chuck finds a particularly nasty knot in her shoulder muscles - it's as much pain-wince as relief-noise, that 'mmm', as the knot starts loosening.

[Chuck Carmichael] Chuck can carry on two (and more) threads of conversation easily, and gently work on that knot at the same time . . . and so he does, as confusing as it can get for some people. "Not all over, mostly torso. And it wasn't my mess - just a mess I happened to land in with Riley, Em and some deaf kid. As for guilt . . . I don't think anyone's immune to it, not really, but there's not much point in it, is there? Things happen, we learn from them as best as we can, and then we move on and hope to not repeat the same mistakes. So, if it's not what they'd do that worries you, what is it?"

That, easy. Then, to the less important bit of conversation, "Medium rare's four to six minutes on a side, depending on head of coals and thickness of steak, or so I've read and been told. I can never quite manage it, though - it's either raw or burnt when I try."

[Molly Quincannon] "Well, I've got perfect timing," Molly says, addressing the last first. "Benefit of the Trad, I guess - it's like having a clock in my head. Maybe I'll manage; never know. So you'll have to let me know when you're hungry so --mmm!" Because yes, nice as massage can be, sometimes it hurts as it helps.

Then the rest. "It's not about -- that. It's just ... I dump my stupid burny legs on you and it didn't occur to me that you might be somehow bad with that level of ick and you handled it and never complained and yet you can't come to me with--" (quick hiss of pain) "--bruises. I just wish I'd been there. During ... after ... whatever."

Then, quietly, "It's how I'd react to what they'd do. Or say. I'm a curious ning-nong sometimes, and this might be Nephandi." Three guesses as to why that's bad.

[Chuck Carmichael] [do we keep rubbing when it's causing pain? Temp WP]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Chuck Carmichael] Fingers have lightened their touch, but Chuck still works the knot - it gives focus on something in addition to conversation, so it's kind of nice, though he sympathy-winces every time she hisses or grunts. "I can stop, if you want." But he doesn't, unless she asks him to. "And yeah, I'll tell you when I'm hungry. The thing last night . . . it was late, and I was mostly fine. Riley and Em said go home, so I did," he finishes with a shrug, and that's before the rest - which gives him pause. He's got a healthy curiosity, sure, but he's never been so curious about something that he couldn't control the impulse to look into it. At least not since he was a kid, when almost everyone has that curiosity.

"More reason not to go on your own, I think," is his eventual assessment.

[Molly Quincannon] "No, s'fine," she says. "It's the right kind of ow, y'know? I don't think they knew jack all about ergonomics in the Lafette's day." No, of course she's not blaming the stress; an only vaguely blaming the chairs. "Ohhhhh it's going to have to be hot shower. This is when having a bathtub would be awesome. And I'd have come over there, if you'd called, y'know. Dunno what I could have done besides be there and be comforting, but ... well, anyway. I guess that's more for me than for you so I'll shut up."

She mulls over the rest. "Well, there are problems with that. Firstly, it's going to take a certain amount of magic just to track them down. Extending it to two people just taxes my reserves. And ... well, who would I take? Those I trust, I care about and don't want to put in danger. Those I don't - and there are a few - why would I want them at my back? But I have to know or the being watched is going to drive me bugnuts."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Well, obviously you don't trust the ones you do well enough to trust they can take care of themselves, and you're a go it solo kind of girl. Which isn't a bad thing, necessarily, it's just a different way of working - and I can't say I blame you for not wanting to risk someone else. It's hard, I know - there are things I do for that exact reason. But in this case, in the end, it's not just risking yourself either way you do it. Because if you do find out they're Nephandi and succumb to that sort of curiosity, someone's going to have to hunt you down, anyway."

This is all very matter of fact, to the point. He's not exaggerating - and that's without touching the bit about extending her tracking magics and what have you, which . . .

"There are lots of us who can track and scry. You're hardly the only one - identifying markers are all a lot of us need."

[Molly Quincannon] "Eh, this is less 'identifying markers' than 'right time, right place, right circumstance'," she explains first, because it's so much easier to start talking about working than it is to start talking about the rest. "They've been really good about not leaving any particular markers - just tiny clues that they're there, more or less after the fact. I'm just going to monkey with circumstance a bit so I'm more or less tripping over them at an opportune moment, and then I'll have a little talk with them. So less tracking than serendipity."

Then the rest, and there's a sigh; it's more or less resigned. "In a way, you're a little bit wrong. I've called in backup before. Man-eating garbage, in fact - I didn't barge in alone on that one, because there was only one of me and two places I needed to be. I trusted Alex and James and Nat to look after themselves, and they did, and they were invaluable. I'd call them, or you, or any number of other people in to stand with me in a heartbeat most of the time. This ... isn't 'most of the time'. Even Technocracy'd be better than Nephandi. I don't know much about them, but what little I know is that they take your Avatar and corrupt it all to hell. That never goes away. You die and it doesn't go away; if your Avatar comes back at all, it comes back corrupt. Putting myself in the situation where they'd get me? I don't likeit. Putting someone else in that position..."

Another sigh. "You're right. I'm stupid. But it's not a trust thing. It's a protection thing. Do you get that? If it came to it, I'd want you there. You'd be the one I'd listen to, whereas I know a few others who'd probably have to knock me unconscious to get me to see reason about not prodding things I'm curious about. But ... I don't want to put you into that. Certainly not with you all bruised. And I want this done before too much more watching gets done. D'you get it?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "I can't do the timing thing. But I can make my own luck, in a rudimentary way," comes first, and then, "It's not always your choice. I mean, in this, you're endangering everyone if something happens. If you have backup, sure, there's the chance of that going bad too, but there's more chance - in theory, anyway - of everyone getting out okay. Teamwork is a time-honored way of doing things for a reason."

But that's enough of that, he decides; if worse comes to worst, there are ways of following whether she wants it or not. And this? It would be one of those things that could, potentially, set him off. It's not yet, but it's there in tone, in posture as he shifts behind her, still working on that knot, and moving on to others when it's worked out.

"Anyway. It'll work out, I'm sure, however you end up doing it. You're pretty much an all around superstar." There's a grin there, and teasing, that she can hear even if she'd have to turn around to see it.

[Molly Quincannon] The knots are slowly going, and Molly elects to more or less change the subject, or at least divert it a bit. "Not at all, or not to that degree? The timing thing, I mean," she clarifies. "That's one I could teach you easy. Trad speciality and all. And also ... thanks. You've given me a lot to think about."

Then she chuckles. "Not an all-around superstar, I don't think. My Spirit nous is for shit, I can't deal with Prime, and ... well, at least I've got the fundamentals of Mind, though I'm going to have to tweak them to fit my own paradigm a bit better. I'm good with what I'm good with. The rest, I fake." He can hear the grin as she adds, "But I fake it well, I admit."

That's when she nudges his hands away a bit and shifts backwards, gently wrapping his arms around her and giving a brief snuggle. "So what happened at this club, anyway? How'd you get all bruised? It wasn't drunk assholes, was it?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Can't do the time thing at all. Or rather, I can read a watch or clock quite nicely, and guess with reasonable accuracy, and when I'm outside, I can follow the sun or moon with reasonable accuracy, but that's about it. Time-the-Sphere isn't in my bag of tricks. Prime and Spirit are, though, if you want the tutorials. Might be someone around with a paradigm better suited to your own, though, so no hard feelings if you don't." His arms wrap around her easily, and he kisses the top of her head - he's not so inhibited now as he generally is, and hands roam briefly (but decently - not groping, he, but exploring) before settling into a comfortable position for both of them.

Then there's the question about the club, and he shrugs and settles back. "There's a spirit there that seems to . . . I don't know, encourage people's basest and darkest impulses. I've never seen Riley so pissed off, or Emily so sure she can take on the world. Anyway, I got hit by a couple other pissed off people. It was too early for real drunk asshattery, though."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly shakes her head. "No, your paradigm is actually the easiest jumping-off point I've got for first principles. I just sort of reverse-engineer it some. So I'd be grateful for your help, and I'm happy to give you some Time tutorials. It's not entirely your paradigm, to be fair, but it is something you could work with as a starting point, I think. It's no end of useful, Time. Most of the intel I've pulled out of ... well, for example, Riley's slagged laptop; that was a Time-scry. That and a photographic memory. As to anyone else ... well, Nathan offered to teach me Prime, but I honestly doubt Nathan and I would mesh well, magically speaking."

The thing about the club gets a wince. "Damn all. What is up with the Umbra lately? Apparently a trio of malevolent spirit-things went joyriding in the bodies of some teen and tween girls last week, and the grief-mongers, and now this ... damn, glad I wasn't actually at the club at the time." The idea of Molly's basest, darkest impulses taking control ... the mind boggles. She shakes it off with a grin and a comment of, "Didn't know you liked clubbing, though. Huh. Good to learn."

[Chuck Carmichael] "I like to people watch, and the best martinis are in clubs. And depending on the music of the night, clubbing isn't so bad." That's with a bit of a smirk - he'd done alright with the more choreographed swing dancing specifically because there were certain steps, patterns. Just getting out on a dance floor and moving with the music intimidates him . . . so he doesn't do it. There are too many other ways to progress to bother over-much with dancing. "Last night was awful, though. I swear, people were getting it on right there in the middle of the dance floor. And fighting. And . . ." It's not difficult to imagine how squicked he must have been, this guy with his aversion to such things. If it weren't, there's the shudder that runs through him before he settles again, and leans in to kiss Molly's neck before the rest.

"There was a Marauder, awhile before you came into town - awhile before I did too, for that matter. He left a lot of Shallowings, and they move. I don't know if they had anything to do with the thing at the club or not, but that explains some of the weirdness, anyway."

[Molly Quincannon] "Well, a honking great demon charging through the local Gauntlet can't have helped," Molly points out. "I missed that one too, but it seems I arrived in just enough time to do the clean-up. And see," she adds, shifting a bit so that she's sitting perpendicular to him, legs carefully draped over one of his, to give him a gentle sideways hug, "this is why I wish I'd been there. Sometimes hugging is required. And I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm glad Riley and Emily were with you, though."

Making sure more of her weight is on the back of the sofa than Chuck (mindful of bruises, of course), she keeps an arm around his waist and asks, "Why Best Buy, by the way?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "No, the demon didn't help," he says, and he'd helped with some of the clean-up there, but it was before he'd met her - he doesn't expect her to have known.

"It's the easiest way to get pre-release video games, and to check what the every day sort thinks is possible as far as tech goes. Also, because it's easy and I don't hate the job. When I was a kid," here, another smirk, "really little, before my parents split up, I used to play around in my dad's office, or lab, or whatever. He isn't Awakened, but man, he was ahead of his time in both building and programming." Ah, the family and history he doesn't reference often, if at all, but it's brief. "I wanted to be a spy. Mostly in cyber-crimes and -terrorism and the like, but then that show Chuck came out, and it's an awesome premise. I'm gonna build something like that intersect-thing some day . . . and I experiment with it a lot. But in the meantime, Best Buy's a good job to have."

[Molly Quincannon] "It just strikes me as funny, I guess," she says, resting her head on his shoulder a bit. "I mean, you with your 4.0 and your brain the size of a planet, and you're working Geek Squad. I guess I see why, in part--" She knows a bit, now; she knows enough, anyway, to realise that he wants to be off-radar "--but compare it to me. I could not do that job. It'd drive me nuts. And I'm not as smart as you. So it intrigues me, is all. But if you're happy, cool."

Then, a deeper question: "What makes you happy? In general, I mean."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Oh, it's pretty mind-numbing a lot of the time - we stand around and make cracks about fellow employees, or customers, or whatever. But it has it's ups as well as its downs." A part of it's because of staying off-radar, yes - the Technocracy aren't exactly likely to look for OodClu in the ranks of some midwestern Best Buy - but a part of it is because he doesn't have a drive to be something big. He wants to improve his knowledge and all that, yeah, and he does - but generally, he's fine with not being front and center. He's good support staff, basically.

Then, there's the deeper question of what makes him happy in general, and he has to think about it for a minute or two. "Playing video games, alone or with friends. Building a kick ass new rig. Programming. Water fights. Adam Sandler movies - well, most of them. Sitting around, doing nothing. I'm a pretty simple guy, really. What about you?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly thinks about that, then shrugs. "Good friends; hanging out with them or just knowing I have them. Figuring out a tricky code." (Her face had, it might have been noticed, comprehensively lit up when she had cracked the password lock on Orcus' source files, freeing all that information for the taking; in that moment, she was likely near to beautiful, and it was certainly the most cheerful she'd been all day.) "Seeing some lying, double-dealing scuzzbucket get taken down for his or her dirty deeds and knowing that I was responsible. Gummy bears. DDR. You."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Aww, me?" This is teasing, a little, as his arm squeezes around her in a half-hug. "Glad I can help. It's been awhile, I think, since I was cause of anyone's happiness." This gets stretching, adjusting position, and tugging until she's nearly in his lap - very much less inhibited, it seems, and at the moment not bothering to try to curb impulses. He's just doing, more or less what and when he feels like it.

"I'd start keeping gummy bears at my place for you, but then I'd be tempted to eat them, and that would be bad. I did look at DDR the other day and consider bringing it home for some practice, though." He hadn't, but he'd considered it. Which is more than he usually does with that particular game - he tends to reserve the 'pretending to' games for Guitar Hero and Rock Band. "So you're pretty through the roof right about now, hmm?"

[Molly Quincannon] Teasing or not, Molly's deadly serious - calm, and not pushing, but serious. "Well, likewise. Would I keep diet drinks and fresh fruit and veggie nibbles around for just myself? I made sandwiches for you. I haven't done that since I was twelve." Then, a blush. "I ... did also pick up one more thing. It requires some TLC to make it usable, in my not-so-humble opinion, which is why it's in the workshop but ... well, I broke down and brought a Wii. So you don't have to lug yours over here every time you want a Mario fix. I'm still thinking about the three-sixty."

Then she looks at him again. "You thought about DDR, really? I'm touched. It's impossible to play that game and not look like a dork, just so you know. I've never managed and I've been playing it for years. So don't worry about that part of it. Also know that you don't have to play it if you don't want to. I think you're awesome even if you don't get my bizarre fascination with dance sims. Vive la difference, as the French say."

There's speculation in her face, though her conversation is fairly light - speculation and a little bit of worry.

[Chuck Carmichael] There's worry, and Chuck leans in to kiss (it away) her, to reassure her everything's alright. It deepens fairly quickly, and he doesn't have much thought of pulling away - whether or not he could is questionable, at the moment. Again, hands roam just a little - even low on will, though, he's a good guy. There's nothing untoward about any of it. Eventually, though, one of them is bound to pull away. When that happens? There are two things.

"Oh, I know I don't have to, but it'll be there for you to play, if you want. And you didn't have to get a Wii, either, but I appreciate that you did. Why are you looking at me funny?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly enjoys the kiss, and probably part of the reason that Chuck might have a bit of difficulty moving away is that when his hands roam a little, so do hers. No more and no less than his, but still. Then she answers his question, looking at him (funny) with that same expression of caring concern. "I'm worried about you because you're tired and you're bruised and you had a rough day yesterday and coming in today and hacking probably didn't help. So I'm wondering if, if I took the loveseat or the beanbags tonight, you'd be cool with crashing on the futon here tonight. I'd stick you with the beanbags," she adds with a grin, "but you're too tall for those. The futon will at least work for your leg length, and I compact a lot easier. That means that you can linger over dinner, or something. Assuming you've got everything you need for the morning. Or I could pick stuff up. I just..." She sighs and goes on. "I just want to take care of you, a bit. All comforting-like. Cook dinner, let you sleep in, whatever. You look like you could use it, is all."

[Chuck Carmichael] Oh, in that case, he doesn't move far away - just enough to talk - and likely, his hands don't stay completely innocent for long. There are breasts there, after all, and other interesting things to feel, to explore. "I could do that, if you want. And you don't have to stay on the love seat or a beanbag."

Though, of course, "I was fine at home last night, you know. And Riley lives right next door." But it's a token resistance, really, offered just because it seems like he should. He's more interested in kissing. And dinner eventually, probably, but right now kissing. And touching. Those seem like good things to do right now - they're alone, and they had a good hack, and she's in his lap, and . . . well. He's a good guy, a take-it-slow guy, but he's still a guy. A human guy, and not a saint.

[Molly Quincannon] "That," she adds, punctuating her words with kisses, "is entirely ... up ... to you. This ... is your pace ... okay?"

And there is kissing, and touching, but she does not forget to wind things down at least enough to ensure that Chuck gets fed - steak (which she manages to get medium rare) and potato chips and a tossed salad. It's the first proper meal she's ever cooked, and it's not bad, and she's obviously pleased and proud of what she's done. There's also closeness while she cooks, while he shows her how to light up her little barbeque, and they eat snuggled with whatever strikes Chuck's fancy from her comprehensive media deck. There's also probably kissing and the like, but that's how such things go.

When it comes time to tuck a tired pair of geeks into bed, Molly does snuggle with Chuck on the futon if Chuck is still okay with that, though she doesn't make any overt moves in any sexual direction. She lets him take the lead and, while she's obviously not going to rebuff advances, she is happy enough to curl up with him in the little white camisole top and matching Apple-printed boxer shorts (as in the old rainbow-striped-apple Macintosh logo, not any simple green fruit here) that are her summer sleepwear. However it goes, it's comfortable. And in the morning, there will be coffee. Lots of it. Very strong.

[Chuck Carmichael] There are, quite frankly, overt moves in a sexual direction - as stated, Chuck is not a saint and it's will almost as much as idealism that make him (or allows him to) wait. How far they get . . . well, it depends on how far Molly wants to go, because he's certainly not going to force her. No mean no, and more so when the person who's initiating it doesn't have the will to say anything else.

But yes, eventually there are tired geeks, and sleep, and a pleasant night full of (hopefully) sweet dreams - Chuck in his boxers next to Molly in her summer sleepwear. And in the morning there's coffee, and some sort of diabetic friendly breakfast before they go about their days.