fandomtownies | The Perk; Late Tuesday Morning.

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The Perk; Late Tuesday Morning.

Adah was discovering that she might be picking up an enjoyment of walking outside in colder, rain-threatened weather. True, she always did have a habit of just disappearing, limping out the world at her own pace like nothing else existed, but this could potentially be decremental to her health. It fascinated her, though, this weather, especially the fact that she couldn't remember if she knew whether like this. Certainly nothing like it in Africa, but what about Before? Either way, she certainly wasn't used to weather like this, so her path eventually diverted out of the preserve that morning and into the warmth of the coffee shop, where she found herself a mug of tea almost too large for her to handle in her one hand, curling up in an armchair, and contemplating the complication of balancing both it and a book in her lap.

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After stopping by at the hotel, River headed towards the Perk, as she was getting hungry. The moment she entered the place, she sensed a familiar presence there, and smiled, debating whether to use her ability to silently sneak up on people or not, although with Adah, just watching tented to give her away.

Luckily for River in this case, the Tea-Book Conundrum was proving enough to defeat Adah's usual perception and alertness at the moment. She'd managed to get it to a point where the book could rest easily on her lap while she held the tea, but then turning the page became an issue. And she could only read a page forwards, then backwards, then up and down one way, down and up, various different ways to read a page, indeed, but only so many before she'd have to risk balancing the cup somewhere on the arm of the chair or that table she could just reach, turn a page, repeat. Tedious. Annoying. Several choice curse words in annoyance of people who probably took for granted the convenience of having two working hands. Perhaps this wasn't one of her best ideas, but, if she had put together a routine by the time afternoon rolled around, she could consider herself victorious.

Sensing Adah's frustration too clearly, River's face turned worried for a second, wondering if this was really a good time to interrupt. On the other hand, she thought, her company was usually not something Adah found tedious or annoying. She bought a coffee and an apple cake, and quietly approached Adah.

"Want company?" she asked, leaning against the armchair next to Adah's.

No, she wanted another god damned hand, but, with a light sighed, Adah lifted her eyes from the litany of words marching through her head trying to rearrange themselves in new ways, blinked to clear her vision of the new focus of concentration, and smiled a little at River. Because, frustrations aside and now no longer having to worry about the book at all anymore, company would be very welcome. Especially River's, as she sipped at her tea, as long as River wouldn't be upset with her, and the reasons why she'd had the book open to research on dormant animals and the insatiable appetites they developed upon breaking their hibernations, consuming everything they're able.

There was no reason that River could see why Adah would make her upset, quite the opposite. She smiled, a happy smile, and nearly blushed at her own feelings. Placing the cup and plate on the table she slipped down into the armchair, kicking off her boots and curling her legs beneath her. "Sleep for too long and you have to compensate. True for many appetites." She reached out and picked up her coffee, taking a long sip, eyes on Adah.

Adah had to blink a little in surprise at River's response, although that smile on River's face made her feel like perhaps she shouldn't have been. There the conflict of thoughts began as, blushing herself, Adah lowered her head to sip her tea. It would be impossible not to wonder if River just responded that way because Adah had been thinking in terms abstract enough to shield the fact that she wasn't referring so much about them, but the fact that there had been them but there had also been the Eel, although Adah wished she didn't wonder if River made that connection because now the events between her self and a mad aloof eel were far from abstract relations. On the other hand, perhaps they hadn't been abstract at all to beginning with, in which case River knew, didn't care, and would still smile at Adah like that despite everything, although Adah was smart enough to bank that one under wishful thinking in the end of things.

The thoughts of eels at the back of Adah's mind were always a potential source of stabs of pain, and the clearer they became the more they hurt. And while River had been aware of things happening between Adah and said eel, what had been foremost in her mind had been what had happened between Adah and herself, which she found a lot more important. Of course, she might be biased.

"Was thinking more of you and me than you and him," she confessed, as Adah was someone who sought balance and so she should try and be honest. Adah had little chance not to be with her, after all.

Almost all of Adah's face besides her eyes, wide and pale and peeking over the rim, remained behind her mug as she looked at River, reading expressions because she couldn't read minds, lip bitten. More of. Everything in words; words in everything. Adah was feeling just about as close to feeling guilt over something that she'd ever allow herself to be. So she did know, but she still put them first. With positioning, tea, book, chairs...Adah wouldn't physically be able to, but she thought about it, soft grateful smile, that she'd like to lean over and kiss River, soft, light, grateful.

Putting her cup down on the table, River leaned forward. If Adah wanted to kiss her she could make that easier my moving closer, because she couldn't imagine turning down the possibility of kissing Adah. While thoughts of eels and things done with eels still hurt, the kissing was the best way to numb that pain. Half of her mind thought that she with kisses and dancing could distract Adah enough from certain water creatures with perfect palindrome names, because really, what else could he have to offer? The other half, on the other hand, assumed that a reasonably normal boy with nice arms was everything Adah could ask for, especially compared to a crazy, psychic half-finished secret weapon.

A small smile and, with a longer than she would have preferred moment to find a god way to balance her own cup somewhere nearby, Adah was able to meet River's shifting and give her that quick, thankful kiss. She intended on cheek, but wound up on lips, and then fell back into her angles in the chair before the strain of reaching could catch up.

A quick kiss on the lips, and then River leaned forward to snag another one in return, before pulling back, sinking down into her own chair. Sh reached out a bare leg, the tip of her toe nudging Adah's knee. "Still unbalanced, though," she said quietly, tilting her head, watching Adah.

Adah gave a soft, forlorn sort of half smile. The story of her life. Efil reh fo yrots eht, really, unbalance, but she wasn't sure she agreed with River there. A night with her, a night with him, very balanced indeed but she didn't exactly want this turning into a game of tallies and matching.

"I know about him, he doesn't know about me," River clarified. "A difference." She wasn't sure she liked the kind of balance Adah was thinking about, although she hadn't found it problematic with Jack. Still, she wondered, if she said no, got angry, would the river be abandoned for the eel? Was patience still the best solution?

Adah's eyes shifted a little. River certainly did have her there, and the vague excuse that it simply hadn't come up didn't seem very supportive, while the urge to offer it was a sign of guilt, which she wasn't about to allow.

"All I ask," River persisted. "Not much." She reached out and picked up a piece of apple cake, putting it in her mouth. Once again, she stretched out her foot to rest it against Adah's leg.

Adah's eyes shifted again, this time to the toes on her knee, and they dragged, slowly, up, following the the line of River's leg until it disappeared. She gave a sigh, realizing that she'd barely even spent time with River since, if at all, and her gaze continued traveling up her body until finally settling on River face, and her lip tucked in under her teeth. No, she thought. Not much at all, all things considered.

"A meaning to that?" River asked, head tilted. "Didn't want to chase after you." She pulled her foot away, suddenly not sure if it was wanted.

Adah's expression flashed with confusion, head tilting at River, not sure she understood, especially as she frowned toward where the foot disappeared, thinking the retraction had to be what River wanted. She understood if that was the case, of course, but understanding didn't stop it from making her feel sore about it.

"Not what I wanted," River said quietly, slowly returning the foot to where it had been. She looked down at her hands, shoulders drawn up a little. "Missed you. Wanted to ask to see you again. Not sure what you wanted. Wanted to give you time." She spoke quietly and quickly, trying to let the words escape before her mind decided to stop them.

Adah's shoulder melted a little at hearing that come out of River, the quickness that not only made her brain jump a bit in thinking it needed to pay more attention but also exuded a sort of nervousness that was hard for Adah to comprehend. Why would River ever doubt that Adah wouldn't want to see her, spend time with her, be with her, when she never so much as even thought otherwise? Her head tilted with a linger gaze toward River, contemplating letting her thoughts ramble on along those pathways further before deciding, that, no, a shift. Something more abstract, which she handled better anway. Adah smiled lightly at River, tentatively, before telling her in her thoughts that she'd fed their skeleton the other day. She'd admit that she didn't do the proper research to find out what he would have eaten in life, so she didn't know if an acorn was even appropriate, but he was dead, so it didn't really matter.

That immediately brought a smile to River's face, both the lack of comprehension and the feeding of the vole skeleton. In Adah's mind it was theirs, although it had been a gift, signifying perhaps a shared understanding in the importance of bone structures of dead animals. "See no problem with acorns," River replied. "Yesterday I hung its sibling from the ceiling lamp to let it fly. Cast shadows on the wall to keep me company." She paused. "Acorn is the name of my spaceship. The squirrels built it for me."

Adah's eyebrows lifted slight at the all too vivid image of a skeleton dangling from a ceiling fan and realizing all more eerily that it sounded like something her and her sisters (the younger and twin: Rachel would look at them like they were all insane and then, out of fear of being excluded, joined in) would do. And, of course, get stuck with the Verse but gigglingly feeling like it was entirely worth the moment of youthful indiscretion. And then River reminded her of the space ship's name and her smile increased a little. Then the acorn, even if against its diet while alive, was certainly the right choice. The grin increased even more as Adah thought to warn Rive,r thinking of Jim's thought that too much discussion of dead vole skeletons, like some children's ghost story, could lead to terrible things, so they might want to be careful.

"What terrible things?" River leaned forward her cup of coffee between her hands. "Ghosts? I've seen cities of the dead. Vampires? I've made them turn to dust." She let out an excited giggle. "Can show you the Acorn sometime. Can take her flying now, watch Earth from outside, see the stars..." she broke off. "Flying like a vole skeleton, rotating slowly."

Unknown terrible things (things terrible, unknown), which made them all the more frightening, allowing the mind (and hopefully the subconscious) to fill in the blanks where words failed to effectively terrify. Adah shrugged, as they'd have to wait and see and keep an eye on any woe that might befall the tall, floppy haired Jim. As for the subject of flying, well...Adah tilted her head toward River with an apologetic sort of smile, before it disappeared as she sipped her tea. New, most likely unappreciated associations with the stars aside, River was well aware that Adah had enough trouble with the solid ground, much less air and space, but it did make her think about passing notes with Luke yesterday, his own discussion of flight with her and why so many of her associations were such flight-minded people.

Of course, to River Adah was already flying, and the step between thoughts and spaceships wasn't a big one. But she wasn't going to pursue the subject if it made Adah uncomfortable, even if those new associations with starts did cause another of those stabs of pain. That wasn't fair, that stars shouldn't belong to Adah and River too. Still, better to leave that subject for now.

"Anakin, Luke's father taught me flying and repaired my spaceship for me. Although my first teacher was Wash, on Serenity. Bribed him with plastic dinosaurs." Here she was, stuck on spaceships again. She took a long sip of coffee, then added: "Did I ever tell you about reavers?"

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