2008-03-07: A Job and an Adventure


Kory_icon.gif Randall_icon.gif

Summary: Kory and Randall share a quiet moment away from the hubbub and discuss the past and future.

Date It Happened: March 7, 2008

A Job and an Adventure

The Chrises' Penthouse

The Chrises are away again, and Kory's dogsitting. Again. Ickle Ronniekins seems to be aware of Kory's antsy state. He's been following her — dare we say doggedly? — around the apartment, and has been lying at her feet anytime she stops to sit still.

Even though it's March, and nearly spring, it's early enough in the month that 'in like a lion' still applies, so she's curled up on the snuggly sofa in front of the fireplace, reading the second of Leah's werewolf books.

When the message came in, Randall was leafing through his copy of Activating Evolution - he picked it up some months ago, but shunted it onto the B pile because it didn't fit his mindset very well. Bringing it with him, he studies a few more pages until the elevator deposits him on the penthouse floor, whereupon he tucks it under one arm and heads over to knock on the door.

A blonde wearing nothing but a towel round her shoulders answers the door. "About time, I—" But he's already averted his eyes, muttering something under his breath as the red-faced debutante shuts the door. Oh, right, round one more corner and then the second one down.

Fortunately the ears of the dog are sharp, and by now he knows the footfall of Kory's person. A cold nose nuzzles the back of her knee and she startles, then glances down at him. "Hmm?" And there's the knock. Kory checks the peephole, then opens the door, smiling faintly. "Hi, there." She brushes an errant curl out of her eyes, and steps aside to let Randall in. The dog sniffs Randall carefully before going to lie back down by the sofa near where Kory set the book down.

"Hi," Randall answers back, reaching a hand down toward Ronnie for a moment. "I, uh, got the wrong one at first. The Chrises have some— interesting neighbors." In retrospect, he should have waited longer to regain his composure, but there's nothing for it now. "You're looking better every day… we owe Dr. Volleyball a few referrals."

"I'm feeling better, too, yeah," Kory agrees, nudging the door closed with a hip and then reaching a hand back to flip closed the four locks. Klik! Clack! Klatch! Clickety! "I'm not too crazy about sleeping like regular people after a lifetime of wishing I could, though. Go figure." She's already found the crook of Randall's elbow and insinuated herself into it. "I'm sure it'll wear off, though, before much longer."

Randall meets the gesture with a hand rested against her opposite shoulder, indulging himself (and her) more than he would in public. The book has been set down on an end table near the door. "I imagine. Has it affected your dreams much, catching them all in a block instead of in bits and pieces?"

Kory tilts her head to think about that for a moment. "I think not so much," she says after considering it. "Some nights one, some nights the other. I figure once I'm off all the scrips I should be back to my old self again altogether." There's an unspoken 'I hope' there, but she's trying to be optimistic. Things are looking better.

"Scrips? I thought those were church coupon books." It takes Randall an extra half-second to work out the abbreviation. "Oh, right. I just hope there aren't any other side effects… who knows how that drug would interact with an ability like yours? I went back to that one book hoping I might get some ideas there, but I think I'd need more than high school biology to pick up anything useful."

Kory shrugs. "Is that why you're reading that again?" Kory tilts her head at the book, and then gives Randall a brief, warm kiss. "You're so sweet!" The compliment is sincere; he thought of something she hadn't — she with all the books. "I guess I could call KeLyssa and ask her if she's ever gotten hold of that doctor Suresh. Maybe he knows how drugs and abilities interact." She flops easily onto the plush sofa.

Randall returns the kiss less briefly, then blinks. "I thought he died a couple years ago?" Wrong doctor, and his cab-driving stint was at the wrong time to have met the right one.

Kory shrugs, resting her chin on her knee. "Suresh isn't that common a name. Maybe they're relatives. KeLyssa never said, but it's worth a shot, at least, isn't it?" She shakes her head, though. "Enough of the rehashing my condition. How've things been with you?" He's the one who assembled the extraction team. He's the one who chased Leslie down five city blocks so the story goes.

With help from Ian. And from Peter's vision of the future, as relayed by Kory some weeks earlier. "Doing pretty well, I guess. It's nice to not have to actively worry all day long, but going back to the daily grind… somehow, I've been feeling even more numb to it than before. I don't know what else to do, though, I'm not an expert in anything you'd expect to see want ads for."

Numb? That's not a good word. "You mean you've discovered you're secretly an adrenaline junkie?" Kory asks, brow and mouth quirking almost in opposite directions. She's not sure if that worries or amuses her more. "And you don't have to be an expert in anything. Most jobs, even the ones in the want ads, will train you if you've got interest in the subject matter…" she reaches up to urge Randall to join her on the couch with a tug at his fingers.

Randall belatedly sits down, stretching his legs out. "No, not a junkie. No throwing on a mask and beating up muggers. As for jobs, mmm, I'll have to set some time aside to work out what I am interested in. It hasn't been much of a determining factor up to this point."

"Well, that's encouraging," Kory agrees, breathing out slowly. "Though there are reasonable jobs that you could do that would allow you to get that sort of excitement again." Yeah, there are. All dangerous. "You could join the fire department. Be a bodyguard." More lightly, but no less tensely, "…a postal worker?"

Randall smirks. "Mall cop. Concert security, cockblocking groupies." What's the right term for that when the groupies are girls? "No rush, anyway— places in need of evening shift workers don't look to be running out any time soon." Which doesn't mean he wants those jobs, just that they pay decently for the trouble.

"Concert security," Kory repeats, nodding. Any crazed female fans would be screaming after Jamie Cullen or the Jonas Brothers or whoever else is flavor of the week. "And okay, my sleep schedule doesn't make your schedule a problem, but is it what you want to do? What you enjoy doing?"

"I enjoy doing this." Randall gestures around with one arm. "Seeing different places, different people— trying to figure out what's happening on a larger scale. Not sure what that would suggest…" Where's a good guidance counselor when you really need one, huh.

"I think we'd have to win the lottery for you to make a comfortable living curling up on a sofa with me and thinking deep thoughts about life, the universe and everything," Kory teases affectionately. "…but you give yourself too little credit, you know." She tilts over a little to rest her face against his chest, where she can hear his heart.

Randall grins, leaning closer. "Maybe. I think maybe I should look for some more unusual things to try out— if the right thing were usual enough, I would've run across it by now, or at least something close to it… I thought maybe I was on to something with the portrait gig, but half the avant-garde ideas I come up with, Picasso and Pollock and Escher already covered years ago."

"That wasn't what I meant," Kory clarifies, kissing Randall's chest over his heart through his shirt. "I meant maybe you're meant to do something brave. Even though you told me once you didn't have it in you."

That catches Randall off guard. Both of those things do, actually. "Why? I mean— I did that because I had to." Losing Kory wasn't an option. "Something like that could happen again, but I'm pretty sure I don't have the right mindset to go looking for it. I know some people do."

Kory looks up at Randall. "No, you didn't have to," she says, very seriously, very quietly. "You could've gone to the police. And pressed the issue once the others confirmed how weird Leslie had been acting." KeLyssa could've confirmed there was no way Kory was just not that into him. Lee could have confirmed that Kory doesn't do the vanishing-without-a-word thing. Not to mention the Chrises and her other dog walk clients and the group she hangs out with on club weekends. "But you were a leader. You got to the bottom of it on your own and saw it through."

Randall hadn't even considered that angle of pressure. But now that he does… "No," he says, shaking his head. "That wouldn't have worked— they wouldn't have gotten to you in time. I was damn lucky to know someone who could." Turning sideways, he studies Kory, trying to see what she sees. "I'll take credit for jumping on an opportunity, at least, but what does that mean?" There is a job description that fits this pattern, but Gallifrey isn't hiring locally, either.

And too bad! He'd be adorable in the scarf and the tennies and with a little sprig of celery on his lapel. Kory meets his eyes. "Even so, Randall," she tells him. "It's not just any Tom, Dick or Harry who'd have seen the opportunity, let alone jumping on it. I don't know what it means, but we'll figure it out. One way or another."

Randall still doesn't quite see it, but he does see something else that catches his attention. "But enough about me," he murmurs, leaning forward. And then, for a while, he offers no more words.

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