Time to April 24th

[captainryan]

River’s reading on the sunseat in Ryan’s flat today, not unusual. The werewolf steps up silently behind her, also not unusual. She’s reading the same book as she was yesterday, slightly unusual, and staring at the exact same page. He can tell by the picture.

Very unusual.

“What’s so interesting about that plant?”

Comments

[hell_in_highheels]

River does not start, as she's grown used to him appearing behind her completely unannounced. Usually, when he ask a question of her reading, he'd best be prepared for a mini-lecture on whatever subject has taken her fancy.

Today, however, it takes a moment for the words to penetrate the fog of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, love, what did you say?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Also very unusual.

"The plant," he prompts. "You've been staring at it for two days straight." He bumps her once, encouraging her to budge over so he can sit, too.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Have I?" She obliges him, shifting over, nudging a stack of books to make room for them both. "I didn't realise. Two days?"

She leans against him, running a fingertip over the illustration. Something in the curve of the flower petal had reminded her of the wolf's ear, and she had paused to reflect.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Yes. I realize I've been distracting you, but I do notice when a picture doesn't change."

He puts an arm around her, looking at the picture more closely.

"Is everything all right?"

[hell_in_highheels]

"Yes, I suppose." Her head rests against his shoulder, and she sighs, tracing the line again. "Do you see it? This here. Reminds me of... Please don't be cross with me, but it reminds me of your ear."

The arc she's following is not the line of a human ear.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He is not convinced that everything is all right, but he'll let the subject be changed for now.

"I can see that," he says, sounding vaguely lost. Why would be be cross?

"Why not look at actual pictures?" He knows she has a few, though he has no idea where she got them from. Probably the Library.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Because I was trying not to think about it."

She chews on her lower lip, and there's a scent of frustration.

"Of course, trying to not to think about something is hopeless."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He frowns. He's fairly certain he needs a little clarification here.

"Think about what?" Him? His ears? The research? The note she left him?

[hell_in_highheels]

She tries to find the words, and a little smile twitches across her lips. Talking about it doesn't do much for not thinking about it either. But she needs to talk about it, she knows now.

"Meeting you in the woods. Wanting to meet you like that again. Knowing how angry you got the last time, understandably. Knowing I'll never have that chance again unless... Unless I change the circumstances."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Some people can do an awfully lot of talking without thinking a thing.

Richard and River are not those people.

Quite the opposite, in fact, as Richard stays silent.

"I just want you to be aware of what you're getting into."

[hell_in_highheels]

River leans into him, turning her head to rest her forehead against his jaw. She could talk about the research until she's blue in the face. And she knows, after having met the Wolf, the research is not sufficient.

He must know that, too.

"I'm not afraid of that. What I need to know is whether you... I mean... It's not a whim, Richard."

For either of us.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"I know that. I'd flat out refuse you if I thought it was." Again he falls silent, rubbing his stubbled chin across her forehead a bit.

"You can't change your mind after it's done, unless you know something I don't. And if you don't like it-"

He doesn't know how to finish that.

[hell_in_highheels]

"I don't expect it to be easy. But if I have you there..."

She closes the book, setting it aside so she can curl against his side, holding him tight for a long moment.

"I have something I want to show you. But it's in the Library."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He's only one man. Nor is he certain he's the best person to model a new existence as a werewolf after.

But, "Of course I'll be there." How many times has he told her he's not going anywhere?

"All right. Now?"

[hell_in_highheels]

It's still nice to hear. He can smell the effect his reassurance has on her, washing away a bit of the tension. Perhaps, if he gives it a moment's consideration, he might recognise his own fears reflected in her.

She nods, and a bit reluctantly begins to extract herself from his embrace. "Let me get my shoes. I think you'll like it. At least, I hope you will."

He'll notice she keeps one hand on him.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

And he on her, if it doesn't get in the way.

"Is this more research?" he asks, shadowing her.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Of a sort," she answers, slipping her flats on. "It's a -- bit of science and a bit of extrapolation."

"You saw the three dimensional models I worked up from the photographs, of the Scottish pack? It's akin to that."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Ah, more holograms.

"All right. I won't mind having a look at that." He won't. They're only photos.

[hell_in_highheels]

She waits while he locks the flat and slips her hand through his arm as they descend to the bar.

"You read my notes, then."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Yes," he admits.

"I want to see your research," he adds firmly as they cross to the wall where he knows the Door is.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Anything you want. I'd appreciate your input, really."

She opens the Door and leads him through into the wood and marble appointed hallway. Her office door is just a few steps away, and things are pretty much the same as the last time he saw it.

The library table is still covered with books, but her desk is cleared, only a few schematics rolled up by the terminal. The sea outside her window is not placid but neither is it raging. A stiff breeze is blowing up white caps, and a bank of dark clouds huddle on the distant horizon.

He may not even notice that, as the wall where they departed for the Cloud Forest is now covered in a mosaic of pale blue windows, the visual representation of layers and layers of her research. There's a few images obvious on the top layer, one a double helix structure he might recognise as a DNA strand. One window is churning away at a series of calculations, numbers scrolling passed. Next to it, there is a 2D image of a form he might recognise.

Wolf transformation, female, red as opposed to the usual grey or black colouration.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Most of it is data that's beyond him. Deitmar may understand it, but Ryan's just a soldier. He watches the windows impassively, a frown blossoming when he sees the wolf. It's fur matches her hair and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what it's supposed to be.

She's standing alert, ears pricked forward, mouth shut. It's not at all representative of any time he's seen them, teeth bared and claws splayed, red with blood. Does River find those records? Does she see those pictures?

"Artist's rendition," he nearly sneers, fists clenched.

[hell_in_highheels]

She sees his body language change and her grip on his arm tightens.

"No, actually," she says carefully. "That's a simulation. It's based on my own genetic material, evolved. Do you want to see it in three dimensions? It's programmed to follow my postures, so I can take it through a range of motions."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He hides his teeth as he turns to glare at her.

"Every time I've come up against one of them, every time, they've tried to tear me to pieces." Even the one in his own god damned head (http://captainryan.livejournal.com/4330.html).

"Will you have it do that too?"

[hell_in_highheels]

"No, love." River looks at him for a long moment, trying to understand why he would think such a thing.

Then again, his experience is different from hers.

She draws him away from the wall, and the images, taking his hand and leading him over to the window seat. The sky outside has gone dark but the sea is calm, almost glassy now.

"Sit with me," she asks, gently.