Noventa - A Star Wars Story

It was a funny thing. Yara's hands were cold, but her leg certain wasn't, the feel of it against him very pleasant indeed. He shifted, just a little, allowing her to lean more comfortably against him. Especially if she wanted to lean more.

He chuckled softly. "Yeah. That sounds about right. I've been Coreward a time or two. The looks I got just for wearing my gunbelt..." He shook his head, grinning.

A sigh, then. Not unpleasant, but thoughtful. Cal took another sip of his caf. "Yeah. It's been a heck of a week. Imperials, Force-users, Quinn's a Jedi... seems I can't hardly remember what normal is." He met her sidelong look directly, smiling, his brown eyes alive. "But if this is the new normal, I think I like it." He gave her leg a little nudge with his.

"Mmm." It's a little hard to say whether this is an actual answer to Cal's questions or just a sound of appreciation. "Apparently so." Yara tucks her feet up onto the bed, in the process shifting her weight toward Cal so her bare leg rests against his. Cal's tailored (and scorched) shirt is a bit more voluminous on Yara, making a sort of tunic that covers her arms beyond the wrist and falls somewhat short of halfway to her knees. "You know you aren't in the Core any longer when bounty hunters appear at medical clinics demanding to carry off patients... not very competent ones, fortunately, from the sound of it."

She shakes her head, scrunching one hand through her hair while the other balances the caf mug on her knee. "If it weren't for everything else, I expect I'd be quite shocked about that. But as it is, it really seems quite minor. Perspective." Tilting her head, she looks sidelong toward him with a wry smile.

"Mmmm." Smiling, Cal shifted the mug to one hand. He let his hand stroke playfully up and down the length of her back. "Next time, I'll be sure to call ahead."

He, too, adjusted himself, moving to sit next to her. He wore boxers, but his undershirt was... somewhere. His torso was showing a few signs of softening with age, and a small number of scars, all a healthy pink or white, but he was still in pretty good shape; a decade ago, he must have been whip-thin.

He smiled as he took another sip of caf, his arm brushing against hers. "Oh? That's good. Seems like it'd be a bad sign if I give you a present, and it's wrecked a few days later." He looked at her, eyebrows going up. "It get all sorted out? Temra and Raine are good folk. I'm guessin' they handled whatever it was?"

"No, this is fine, thank you." Yara hands over one mug, then sits on the edge of the bed with a slightly smug smile, holding the second mug in both hands. "Perfectly fine. Although I don't have a plant up here for you to look at. Not enough forewarning to bring it upstairs."

She takes a sip from her mug, eyes merry behind its rim. "There was a bit of a fracas in the clinic yesterday, actually, but not to fear, the flowers came through unscathed."

Yara getting up didn't quite wake Cal, but he began to stir as she shut the door behind her. He shifted, rolling over in the unfamiliar bed. This was strange. His semi-conscious mind was trying to tell him that he was at the medical clinic. So why was he in a comfortable bed, instead of floating in goo?

When the door opened again, Cal sat up, blinking, the sheet gathering about his waist. His own hair, shorter and blond, was somewhat disarrayed. Enlightenment pushed out the sleep in his brown eyes at the sight of Yara holding two mugs of caf, and his lips curled up into a smile.

"Well well, that's a sight to wake up to." He said, grinning, matching her playfulness. His eyes took a moment to trace up and down her figure before returning to the mugs; indeed, there were a number of fine sights. "I take mine black, but if that's what you want, I'll do it. Just find me a nerf." He nodded firmly. "That's somethin' you never forget how to do."

He sat up straighter, reaching out for the mug. "Thanks." He said, taking a long sip with a sigh. "Mmm. Not bad. Think this may be one of the better times I've spent the night in the clinic." He took another sip as he gave her a sidelong look, his brown eyes glinting with hummor.

Yara muffles a yawn with her hand as she pads barefoot into the kitchen area of the flat above the clinic. Obedient to its programmed timer, the caf maker yields up two mugs of relatively fresh liquid. She picks up both, but then has to set one down again on the counter to shove a tangle of wavy hair back behind her ear. Then she arches an eyebrow and inspects her arm--or rather, the sleeve of the over-large shirt she's thrown on--more closely. Yes, that's a scorch mark. Another one for the recycler unit. At least she hadn't had to cut this one off?

She shuffles down the hall and bumps the latch control pad with her elbow, stepping back into her room as the door slides shut again behind her. "Nobody made it out shopping yesterday, so we'll have to take it black. Unless you've got a nerf around you're prepared to milk." Her lips curl into a teasing smile.