2007-07-22: Everything Is Complicated


Cass_icon.gif Lachlan_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif


Peter comes to check in on how Cass and Lachlan's meeting with Mohinder went, only to discover that they've been wiped. He leaves without refreshing their memories. Cass proposes that Lachlan meet her parents, and Lachlan proposes something else. It involves something circular that fits on a finger. And it's made out of duct tape.

Date It Happened: July 22nd, 2007

Everything is Complicated

Lachlan's Apartment

It's morning. And really, Lachlan is not a morning person. But work's been good enough lately that he actually has to get up in the morning in order to make all the rounds and still be home in time to crash at a (relatively) decent hour. Even still, he's really, really, really not a morning person. So it's taken some serious willpower to drag himself out of bed and slump into the kitchen. Puppy chow is set out for his current charges, and a can of kitten food is dumped into the dish on the counter for George. Then, the Scotsman sets about making his own morning wake up call: coffee. Which he makes a damn fine batch of. Except when he accidentally burns his hand. The be-boxered man's yelp of shock and pain can be heard throughout the apartment.

Though no more of a morning person, Cass is a little more dignified with her waking up. Pulling on some jeans and a tank top, she's not quite out of the bedroom quite yet. She's not exactly fixing her bed hair, more like pushing it into place with her hands and combing it through with her fingers. Poking her head out of the doorway, she's already gathering up a bunch of books and papers to read over breakfast and coffee. "Lach? Are you okay?"

It's a good thing that they're both located in Brooklyn. When knocking on Cass' apartment turned up cold, Peter moved to the next one, getting in quite a walk. A morning person or not, he's awake and fully dressed and that's the important part. One would think he'd know better than to try to visit these two kids so early in the morning— but they haven't called to tell him how things went yet, and he hasn't caught Cass at the bookstore— due mostly to not working those days. While they worry over hand burning, there's a knock on the door. Company. But not— that kind.


That is the sound of suddenly fast-running water in the sink, which almost drowns out the snarling muttering curses that are cuming from Lachlan's half-awake mouth. There's a loud "MNEHR" in response to Cass' question — it might've been a "yes, dear, I'm fine, good morning". In some sort of foreign Angry Scotsman Is Not Awake language. The water is shut off soon afterward and Lachlan takes his dripping wet rag and starts heading back to the coffee machine, not noting the trail of water he leaves behind. When the knock comes at the door, he squints over at it, then turns to answer — but see, that bit of water that he dribbled everywhere has come back to bite him in the proverbial backside. His bare feet slip and down he goes. More swearing follows. Get the door, please, Cass?

Already halfway out of the bedroom door, Cass can both hear and after a few steps, see, the glory that is a klutzy and burned Scotsman. "Oh, geez, Lach! Are you okay?" First, she starts forward to make sure he hasn't broken anything. She, of all people, knows just how horrible that can be. Then, though, there's all the knocking and company. "I'll be right back. Lemme just get the door." Scrambling up, she takes off after the door. But, just like Cass, the hazardous area of water gets her too. Slipping and sliding, her feet give out underneath her and she topples to the ground. "Ow. Owowowow." Not exactly swearing, but the sound of Cass falling. She crawls for a second and then slowly pulls herself up. Holding a hand on her backside, she opens the door slowly. "Peter!" Surprise, you've walked into klutz central.

There's some sound of— events afoot within the apartment! Peter squints lightly at the door, but it doesn't sound dangerous. No cries of RAPE. No screams of pain. But some— impacting sounds. Not only did he bring himself with questions, but he finally remembered to bring his birthday present. Held in a bag, with tissue sticking out the top. When she opens the door, he's standing there holding it, eyebrow raised curiously and her hand rubbing her butt drawing his eyes. "Am— I interupting something?" It's good she's here too. "Sorry to stop by so early— uh— I know it's late, too." Take it. It's a present. "How'd everything go?"

MUTTERMUTTERMUMBLESNARLSNARL. By now, Lachlan's cursed everything from the floor to the ceiling and possibly their mothers too, and he's just about making the rounds again when he manages to use the counter to pull himself up again. Goddamn it. This is why he should not be conscious in the morning. After a few near-misses with slipping and sliding, he manages to get to his feet and carefully (and painfully) make his way out of the kitchen and into the living room. He squints at the door, also holding his backside. "Peter?" How'd every-what go? The Scot glances a Cass in a befuddled manner, then back to Peter, trying to figure out what the man could possibly mean.

After a little while, Cass realizes what she's doing in front of Peter and stops. Whups, that may not be polite. But landing on your butt stings! "No, sorry. Just…water on the kitchen floor can be hazardous to your health. Don't worry about it, we should be up anyway." She gestures to where Lachlan is pulling himself up by the counter and swearing. Taking the package from Peter, she blinks and is generally confused. "Late? Oh, Peter, you didn't have to get me anything." She's one of those people who really /do/ mean that just having her friends and family is enough. "What everything?" She's sure it's just something that's slipping her mind.

They really should be more careful. The bag is actually fairly substantial in size and weight, the bottom about the size of a shoebox with something square and solid there, as well as room for things to be piled in on top. And tissue paper. And the bag is blue and the tissue paper white. It's heavier than shoes, though, that's for sure. "No— I think you need what I got you," Peter says with a hint of a smile. "I actually bought it a week ago— but…" Stuff. Happened. Like a girl. And stupid things coming out of his mouth. Yeah. We'll leave it there. When she looks confused, the smile slips some, not too much. "The meeting with Mohinder?"

The meeting with the who and the what now? Lachlan glances at Cass with a frown that is at first confused, then displeased. Did she run off and visit with that Company freak again? Remember what happened last time? But … why would she go see him? Things have been quiet on that front, as far as he's seen.

While she can try to be careful, Cass seems to have a penchant for just slipping and running into things that other people would avoid. It's part of her charm. The weight of the gift causes her to raise her eyebrows and move for the couch, to give the bag better support. That and so she can open it with both hands. Waving Peter in, she trusts him enough to shut and lock the door after himself. "Oh?" Now she's intrigued. "Things happen, I know. We still have to do that meeting with Niki so you can try to listen to her other personalities. What ever happened to us meeting earlier in the week?" Already, she's pulling out the tissue paper to get at what's inside. "The meeting with Mohinder?" That makes her pause, tissue paper still in hand. "What meeting with Mohinder?"

Stepping inside the apartment, Peter makes sure to shut and lock the door again as he follows to the couch. That smile remains for a few moments. The bag is opened, tissue removed, and sitting at the top are a bunch of black items wrapped in plastic. Knee pads, elbow pads, protective gloves… and on the bottom of it all? A helmet. It'd meant to have been a joke, right? But Peter's not laughing. Or smiling anymore. For many reasons. Meeting with Niki— whatever happened to it— meeting with Mohinder. All of a sudden, he's a little pale. And it's not due to stress from overusing powers. They don't remember. They. Don't. Remember. …Of course they don't remember. "Son of a bitch," he suddenly curses. Don't trust Mohinder. He should have taken that advice.

Oh, so Cass didn't meet with Mohinder. So then Peter's maybe crazy. But then again, Peter's never shown himself to be crazy before (except the part where he painted that painting that isn't true). Now Lachlan is just plain confused. He squints at Peter, then at Cass, then at Cass' new gear — which he would find amusing were it not for the other bit of conversation. "Wha're ye on 'bout?" he grunts at Peter. He doesn't remember a meeting with Mohinder, and he's pretty damn sure he would.

This is a very serious moment. When Peter is telling them something important. However, it's hard to focus when she's looking at full out protective set of gear. Helmet and all. "P-Peter. Do you expect me to go skydiving? Or skateboarding?" She shakes out all the pieces and just looks at them, stunned. Then, she grins, because she gets the joke. "Very funny." Even if she may just use some of this stuff for her new bike. However, the grin fades very quickly, because Peter isn't smiling when she looks up at him to thank him. He looks serious and pale. "What's wrong?" Though not as pale, she certainly looks serious now.

It was funny. Really, really funny. And then Mohinder had to go and ruin it. Peter gives his head a shake, directing his eyes elsewhere. Neither of them remember. And if they forgot about Niki showing up last week, then they forgot about everything. If he tells them again, they'll do the same thing. What if they lose more next time? What if they don't let them go— oh god, did they get Niki too? They never mentioned the meeting or Lachlan's sister— and he'd called her again to set up the— The worst part is, he quickly realizes that they protected him. He has to lie. He can't do this to them again. His demenor changes pretty fast and he shrugs, "I must— have missunderstood. I was told he would be meeting with you about something, but I guess it never happened. Don't worry about it. I'm glad you like the present— yes it was intended to be funny." Smile and pretend nothing is wrong.

Oh, well, okay then. Misunderstanding. That's fine. Lachlan still thinks Peter's a little weird, though. He grunts and goes back into the kitchen for some coffee, because he needs it. And maybe an ice pack. That's a hard floor. George has finished snarfing his food by now and bounds into the living room after an imaginary something.

While Lachlan just takes Peter at face value, Cass can tell that there's something about his shift in moods that has put her on high alert. This whole thing is just too weird. It's not like Peter to ask her something and then just drop it like that without explanation. "Who told you I was supposed to meet with Mohinder? I haven't talked to or seen him in months. For obvious reasons, I'm kind of trying to stay away from him." Even if she'd love to get a look at some of his research to give herself a little step up on the ladder of her own attempts. While Peter may have the best intentions, Cass isn't one to let things slip so easily that seems so incongruous. "No, I do love the present, Peter. It's thoughtful. And funny at the same time. Thank you. But, I'm still just so confused about this whole Mohinder thing. Who would tell you I was supposed to meet with him? I mean, that seems definitely like they were trying to lure you into a trap to get you back into Company custody." The more she thinks about it, the more she doesn't like the idea. It scares her a little.

Damn. Well, Peter's more than aware that the taller, stronger and less dressed man is the one he really needs to worry about anyway, but Cass sees through his attempt to change gears and lie pretty well. However, she does give him something to build off of, "Since I'm no longer dating an Agent, it wouldn't surprise me if they want me in custody again." At least when he was dating Elle, he had someone to keep an eye on him and take him out if need be, right? But— damnit. Hopefully Lachlan stays in the kitchen, because he lowers his voice a little. "But I don't think that— The meeting wasn't…" He can't tell the truth. But he fails to think of a convincing lie. Fails completely. "I can't tell you," he suddenly gives up, with a grimace. "Don't want anything more to happen to either of you."

For his part, Lachlan remains in the kitchen focusing on coffee. It's too early and there's not enough coffee for conversations beyond, "I love you, honey" and "Breakfast?" The only sign of his presence is a grunted, "Cass, where're the clean mugs?" He seems to have misplaced those. Somewhere.

It's true, the last thing Cass is thinking is the truth: that this is about what has already happened. Memory wiping is such a dangerous tool because of how well it works. And how, well, no one remembers what it was that was so important. Despite all this, she can't just take Peter's answers. He's her friend and not telling her for her safety isn't something she's willing to accept. Before she can really answer, though, Lachlan asks a question. "They're in the cupboard, Lach. Right side." How is it that she knows his apartment kitchen better than he does? Then, voice lowered, she adds, "You /can't/ tell me?" She's more than a little annoyed. "Peter, if they're threatening your safety, how in the /world/ can I not think about it? Things are going to happen to me. And to Lachlan and to you. That's just the way things go. But if you don't /talk/ to us to let us help you…how are we going to be able to help you?"

"It's not my safety I'm worried about," Peter grumbles, looking towards the kitchen. Please don't hear what he has to say. He feels guilty enough about this already. That's very visible on his face. Whatever happened here, he blames himself, and with good reason. "I told the two of you something I shouldn't have, and you paid the price for it— for all I know Niki did too. But the fact that they didn't break into my apartment— the fact that I still remember— it means you protected me. All of you did." The sheer fact that they meddled with memories of people he cares about makes him angry as well as guilty. But right now mostly guilty. He'll deal with the anger later. "This time… I'll protect you. I'll— do something about it myself."

The neighbors probably know Lachlan's apartment better than he does. There are three things he knows the location of without question: the bed, the bathroom, and the dog food. Everything else has a tendency to shift around. Clatterclatter clunk clutter. "They're no' in the bloody— oh there they are." Clatterclatter pourpour. Out comes the Scotsman with two mugs prepared as their respective receivers usually take them. One is handed to Cass. Then Lachlan takes a sip of his. Pauses. Stares at Cass' mug, then at his, then at Peter's empty hands. One can just see the gears working in his head: one mug, one mug, no mug. Finally, it seems to breech his sleep-addled thought processes and he looks at Peter. "Uh. Di'ye want some?"

"Well you /should/ be, Peter. You're just like Lachlan. You're going to run into a situation and get yourself killed! And then where are we going to be." Because, just like Peter, Cass would rather put herself in danger than her friends or her family. "Wh-/what/?" She /knows/ that if Lachlan were to find out about this he would go on a rampage and get himself killed. So, she does the smart thing and tries to keep it under wraps. Keeping her voice low, she adds, "What did you tell us? If it's something that important, we need to know." However, as soon as she hears the Scot coming back to the living room, she just doesn't say anything else, instead she studies Peter. "Thanks, honey." Taking the mug with both hands, she just sips at it and smiles at Lachlan. "You should definitely get Peter some coffee. It's early and he looks tired." And she's not going to let him say no to it. They need at least a few more moments so she can say some more.

"I won't do anything that'll get me killed," Peter says, looking down towards the floor. Killed permenantly? That might be the most he can honestly promise. He'll do his best to wait it out— he knows they'll let her out eventually… And this might be something he needs to let happen— at least until he knows more. Only he can't ask for more, can he? With the return of Lachlan, he just shakes his head in response, not even noticing his lack of coffee until they both comment on it. "No— I'm not staying too long. Thank you for offering." Not staying long, huh? Is this his way of bailing on not telling Cass and Lachlan something they need to know and don't remember anymore? Yes, yes it is. "I did need to tell you about Niki— we decided to handle the telepathy thing on our own, at least for the moment. It's safer for everyone in case she loses control."

One says do, the other says don't. Lachlan just sort of hovers in coffee limbo, not sure if he should go get Peter some coffee like Cass says, or if he shouldn't worry about it like Peter says. In the end, after some blank staring and uncertainty, he decides on something else: "'M gonna make some breakfast." Shuffleshuffle, off he goes into the kitchen again — or he would, except there's a squall of pain and surprise and Lachlan jumps a mile. "BLOODY DAMN CAT." George goes skittering into the kitchen followed not long after by a remorseful and grumbling Scotsman.

"Yeah, you say that because you think you can't get killed permanently." Cass sighs and watches Peter over her mug of coffee. "We'll be right there, Lach." Frowning, she keeps watching him. "I don't need to be protected, Peter. Neither does Lach." Obviously. The Scot is the tank of their group. "I mean, I know it seems like it since we just got our memories wiped and we keep getting into trouble…but just don't do something where you get yourself hurt. Or kidnapped. Work with us. It's cliche, but we're stronger together." Sigh. "I can't believe I just said that." Then, of course, there's the screeching and Lachlan's cry. "George? Lach? You all okay?"

"Everyone needs to be protected," Peter says, shaking his head a little, before he reaches up and touches her arm. They protected him. He should have been smart enough to protect them. And now… he's not sure what he'll do. But he has to do something. Maybe it's time he called Mohinder up. Too bad he doesn't have the man's number. They're stronger together. "Sometimes it's better to deal with things alone, though," he says, before he let's go of her arm and adds, "I'm glad you liked your present." It was a joke, but she might still need them sometime. That poor cat. "Enjoy your breakfast! Bye Lachlan." And with this he's going to make an attempt to get to the door, unlock, and possibly even leave!

With a little coaxing and some impromptu telepathy (he's getting better at it!), George is coaxed out from behind the refrigerator and plopped down onto Lachlan's bare shoulder. "S'bloody fine," he responds to Cass in a grumble. See, the kitten is even purring already. Coffee is consumed more before there's the clatter of pans and such as Lachlan prepares to make … eggs. Mighty eggs. And maybe toast. "See ye, Peter."

"So, that means you do, too." Cass is only following the logic that Peter himself set forth. While she can't exactly argue with Peter, because she plans on going to have a conversation with her father - this time much less than friendly - soon by herself. At least over the phone if not in person. However, that doesn't mean she she has to like the sentiment. Gently, she puts her own hand over Peter's for his attempt at being comforting. But, she doesn't attempt to stop or grab him when he moves to go. "Thank you, Peter." For the gifts, and for trying to protect her, even if she doesn't want it. She stays with her coffee and presents on her lap until the door is closed and then carefully puts them on the couch (keeping her coffee) to go join Lachlan in the kitchen. While they may be manly mighty eggs, maybe they need a womanly touch. Or maybe the Scotsman just needs a kiss.

As far as Peter's concerned… they already protected him. So now it's his turn. He does give her a hint of a lopsided smile, before he closes the door behind him. They'll need to lock it. Now— now what is he going to do? Guilt and anger mix for dominance, but guilt wins out. Besides this, he hurt someone else he cares about a great deal recently— how will he ever make it up to all of them?

Maybe a bit of both. By now, Lachlan's cracked a few eggs into a bowl and mixed them up with a fork, because scrambled eggs are not too complicated for a non-morning-person brain. Now he stands before the stove with a spatula, staring down at a skillet that has been graced with some butter. The way he's squinting down at it and holding his spatula, he might very well be sending threatening thoughts at it. You heat up, skillet, and you heat up now. Maybe this is why he's stopped communication with George, who is still on his bare shoulders. There are already plenty of little red scratch marks where the cat's nearly lost his balance and had to hold on to stay aloft.

From behind, Cass wraps her arms around the Scot. She's careful to make sure that poor George doesn't tip and fall off again. No need to add to the scratch marks. Instead, she just puts her face right next to George and kisses the scratches. That makes them better, right? "You know, I talked to my father about us going up to Hartsdale to see my family the other night. I don't think it's really a good idea, what with what he does and what you can do. But…I don't know. I'd like him to get to know you. As you. I think maybe he'd understand more about why I can't respect what he does if he could just /see/."

With the power of Lachlan's burning gaze and the heat from the stovetop, the skillet has reached full heating capacity. So in go the mixed eggs and, while those are frying, he curls his free arm around both of the ones wrapped around his waist. "Dunna think yer dad likes me," he remarks as he swirls slowly-cooking eggs around with the spatula. And of course the dislike is totally one-sided, right? Right. Absolutely. Pause. "Wait, s'this like one o' those 'meet the parents' things?"

Unbeknownst to Cass, Lachlan must have amassed powerful skillet rays to go along with his ability to speak to animals. "He just doesn't know you." Which is exactly what he said to her. "He just worries too much. And I'm sure you could win over my mom. Just bring her flowers and she'll love you forever." She can't really see Lachlan being the 'bring your parents flowers' kind of man, but she can coach him. There's a pause. "Yeah. Sort of. I mean, you're a big part of my life now. And they're, obviously, a huge part of my life, too. I want the three people I love to all sit down and formally meet. And hopefully get along some day."

Flowers? Lachlan doesn't even give Cass flowers. Well … except for the couple of roses when they were dating (read: when he was in the doghouse a lot). Still. Doctor Aldric seemed more like the type that wants Cass to marry one of those rich, good-looking, successful, suit-wearing guys (like Nathan). He probably will never be impressed with or like Lachlan. But … Cass wants them to meet, and he'll at least make an effort. And he's sorta a sucker for that L-word. "A'righ' then." Pause. "… uh." Pause. "… d'ye want me ta get ye a ring 'r somethin'?"

Whatever Lachlan is thinking, he's right. Dr. Aldric always tried to set Cass up with fine upstanding young boring doctors who never had any time for her and who though she looked very good on their arm. Not for her. "Really?" She wasn't actually expecting Lachlan to agree to this so quickly. It was something she was going to keep suggesting for days intermittently until he finally just gave in. The same on her father's end. Because despite what Mohinder might have done, she can't believe her father would ever be a part of it. He possibly doesn't even know what happened. "I mean, it doesn't have to be /tomorrow/ or anything. But, you know. Someday." When she can talk her father into it. "A ring? What would you be getting me a ring for?" Sometimes, despite her intelligence, Cass can be a little dense. Possibly because the very idea of Lachlan proposing or anything of the like is so very far removed from the realm of what she thinks is possible.

"Righ', righ'. Someday." See, the beauty of his agreeing is that Lachlan can't be blamed if (when) Cass' father utterly refuses to do this thing. That way he isn't the bad guy. Yes. The Scotsman is more clever than some would realize (when it comes to saving his own skin). And when Cass doesn't get the bit about the ring, he suddenly feels a bit lost at sea. Isn't that what girls like and stuff? With the rings and the … that one word and the … thing? Crap. What did he just say? Crapcrapcrap. "Oh, uh. It's. Y'know, fer the … it … uh. The. Uh." Oh look, scrambled eggs!

Neither of the two men would be the 'bad guys' in this situation. Cass isn't even sure this is the best idea she's ever had. But, she /does/ want her father and her boyfriend - the two important men in her life - to get along. Or, at least, have the proper first introduction. "Maybe next month? Or something?" That's a safe date, right? However, the sudden change in Lachlan's demeanor is hard /not/ to catch. And, of course, a little late to the race, Cass' brain horse crosses the finish line. For a moment she's stunned. But, then, she tightens her grip around his waist. "Did you just propose to me?"

Stabstabstab scraaaaaaape. There are cooked eggbits, and Lachlan is very interested in them. They're so … yellow. And hot. And cooked. And … and egg bits. Also, they're yellow. Very interesting, them eggbits. They're easy to read. Because they just sit there and wait to be eaten. Oh, also, they're starting to get a little brown. He's so absorbed in examining these subject-avoiding eggs that he almost misses that fact. Using a little more force than is necessary, he suddenly snaps the burner off and moves to rest his palms and his weight against the stove — which is hot. "Aw, f— !" He pulls his hands away before any damage can be done, shaking them as though to ward off any major burns before he returns to That Conversation He's Been Avoiding. "Uh." Yep, that's the one. "If … uh. Ye. S' … I mean, if ye … I mean, it's. Uh." Frown. "Mebbe?" See, the scary thing about this is that there's the potential for a no.

Well, she can't yank an answer out of Lachlan. Instead, she just waits it out. Holding on to him, she rests her head against his back and waits for the eggs to stop being less interesting. It will not be said that she bullied a proposal out of Lachlan, should that be what this is. The moment that Lachlan burns herself, she's quickly there to try and grab his hands an inspect for any long term damage. "Here, put them under water." Just in case. Burns can just keep burning under the skin if they're not taken care of quickly. Turning on the cold tap, she attempts to pull his hands underneath them to make sure they're taken care of. "And…that depends. Are you asking me because that's what /you/ want? Or is it because you think it's what /I/ want?"

"S'fine," Lachlan half-whines a protest, but he doesn't physically resist his hands getting doused with cold water. There he stand with his hands under the tap, frowning in concentration and confusion. Why's she gotta ask those hard questions? It's not like he put any major thought into this. It just kinda … came out. "… dunno," he finally creatively replies. And then a pause before he glances at her briefly, questioningly. "D'ye wanna?"

In her head, Cass is counting how long it's been that his hands have been under the tap. There's a certain window that she needs to keep them under there for. It's not his hands that she's paying attention to, though. Even this close, her head is tilted to so that she can look straight at Lachlan's face. "That wasn't an answer to my question, Lach. How can I say yes or no when I don't know if this is something you /actually/ want to do or if it's something you /think/ I want and are just asking me to try and make me happy. Marriage is a /big/ commitment and I don't want to agree to if you're not sure about it."

But. Making Cass happy is what he wants to do. And all this is just thinking too much. Which Cass does a lot. Because Lachlan sure as hell doesn't think this much about anything (obviously). Now that she's trying to get him to, it's like starting up an old rusty machine: slow and painful and creaky, but it still works and generates things. Sometimes. It's not as though he hasn't already basically made the commitment. Just … that word is scary. Or it was. Before the commitment stuff. And does Cass want it? Because he doesn't want to ask if she doesn't because the word no is scary too. And really, he's just thinking too much. Damn it, Cass. "Well I bloody well asked, dinna I?" he huffs out finally with a deep, broody frown. Why's it got to be so complicated? Really.

That is sort of the way Cass works. Thinking things through and sometimes too much. Could she be Cass if she was anything else? The huff and the frown actually make Cass smile. Because that's more of the Lachlan that she knows. By this time she's forgotten how long his hands have been under the cold water. Surely by now they're out of danger of burning further. But, that's not what she's thinking about right now. Closing the short distance between them, she angles in for a kiss. Then, softly, "Ask me again. Properly."

But he just …

… women are silly. But Lachlan reallyreallyreallyreally likes this one, so that's okay. She can be a silly woman. Since his hands are no longer in danger of burning off or anything, he removes them from under the tap so that he can wrap his arms around Cass. Nevermind that his hands are wet and cold. That's not important. He doesn't move too far away after the kiss, and despite the overall seriousness of the situation, he can't help but try to fight back a grin. Every time he opens his mouth to speak, it keeps coming back, and he has to fight it down again. This is so silly. But that's okay. He finally manages to keep a straight enough face to touch his forehead to hers and murmur, "Will ye marry me?"

No! He didn't! He kind of sort of tried to ask her. Which is not the same as actually asking her properly. She's not even the one to mind the wet cold hands being wrapped around her or the fact that their eggs are probably burning to a crisp on the stove. It's okay that Lachlan is grinning because, well, Cass is, too. Or, trying hard not to grin too wide. "Yes," she says equally as soft. Because even if they're grinning and this came out of nowhere, it's a tender moment.

hee. Well, now it's pretty much impossible for Lachlan not to grin like a big goofy idiot, even though this was sort of spur-of-the-moment and not planned. Kinda like when he first asked her out. And when she told him she loved him. Everything is a little hazy and Lachlan feels really really warm.

… of course, that might just be the eggs burning to a crisp on the stove. Tender moment's gone. "Bloody— !" Lachlan pulls himself away to shut off the stove and bring the blackened eggs over to the sink to douse them under the still-running cold tap. They hiss and send up a foul-smelling cloud of smoke, but at least he's prevented a fire! And with that small crisis out of the way, another one crops up. "Aw hell." The Scot reaches out to grab Cass' hand and tug her toward the living room. "C'mere, c'mere." He forgot something.

Keeping her head pressed against Lachlan's, Cass smiles and stays just like that for a few moments. That is, before the vicious cloud of smoke erupted. Trying to avert disaster and the fire alarm, Cass springs into action and tries to fan with her hands. And then, turning on the over the oven fan with a loud rustle to try and help dissipate it. Oh no, never a dull moment in the Cass and Lachlan relationship. As she's so busy with the trying to make sure the fire department doesn't get called in on their proposal, it's quite easy for her hand to be grabbed by Lachlan. "What?" Now she's curious, but also still preoccupied by the fact that she doesn't want the whole building to burn down.

Who cares about the building burning down? This is far more important. Lachlan is on a mission. He starts digging through the living room and finally comes up with a piece of paper and a roll of clear tape. It's not long before he's torn off a thin strip of paper and returned to Cass. He takes her hand and wraps the paper around her ring finger before slipping it off again, taping it together, and putting it back on — the wrong hand. (Well he doesn't know, it's not like he proposes to girls every day.) "There. S'just 'til I can get ye a real one," he states with pride.

It's very sweet. Paper and tape. However, not very sturdy. Letting Lachlan slip the ring onto the wrong hand (she's not going to say anything about that just yet), she leans forward and gives him a soft kiss. "I won't need a real one. But, maybe we should make a ring out of something that's less rippable. Or soluble in water." Thinking this through, she pauses for a moment and then grins. "I've got it." This time /she's/ the one pulling Lachlan around the apartment until she comes up with what she was looking for - duct tape. "Sturdy, won't fall apart or come off. Duct tape keeps everything together." It's like a metaphor for their relationship. Holding out the roll, she grins. "Here, make me a ring out of this?" So this one's from him, too.

Well, that saves money. And if she ever loses it, they can always make another one. It's practical! Now Lachlan just has to figure out the mechanics behind a duct tape ring. So first he rolls up a strip, sizes it, resizes it, then seals it up with another small strip that /almost/ looks like a stone set. So it does look resemble an engagement ring — it's just kinda ugly. This one replaces the paper ring on the (wrong) hand and Lachlan grins wider. "Jesus, baby, tha's the ugliest thing I've ever seen," he snickers. It will probably be a temporary solution in spite of what Cass says about not needing a real one.

Though she can't exactly lie about how pretty it is - well, she could, but that would belie the point - Cass doesn't seem to mind how it looks. Just that it's there. "Wait wait." Pulling off the duct tape, she holds out the proper hand. "This one." Because if they're doing this, they're going to do it the right way. "And I don't care how ugly it is." She really doesn't. It's what it stands for that means something to her. And, being a girl, even if she said she didn't want another ring, she'd be just as excited to get proper one from Lachlan.

Well damn, who thought an impromptu proposal was going to be so complex? Paper, duct tape, right hand, left hand — eesh! But Lachlan's not really flustered. In fact, he's still grinning. He hasn't actually stopped since they left the kitchen. So once the Very Ugly Ring is switched to the proper hand, he pulls Cass in again and kisses her briefly. "Think we got it," he utters with yet another grin. "Ever'one's gonna flip when they hear." But that's half the fun, really. "I love ye, Cassie."

Everything with Lachlan and Cass is a little complex. Just enough to keep everyone on their toes. It's just how it works for them. While once in awhile she's had her serious concentration face on, it's very quickly broken by grins and a glowing smile like now. "Think you're right." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she raises herself up to her tiptoes. "They just might. Just wait till Elena comes back from Spain and finds out. I can just see her. She's going to just stare at us and go, 'WHAT?'. And then get really excited about it." Imagining what her friends are going to say makes her almost giggle. While she's still smiling, she sounds very serious when she says, "I love you too, Lachlan."

Another kiss, which lasts a little longer than the previous. Then there's another. And then a third before Lachlan sighs and mutters. "Gotta get ta werk." But … then he kisses Cass again. And then again. Because he doesn't particularly want to go to work, and this is a perfectly valid excuse not to. 'Sorry I can't come train your dog today, I'm kissing my girlfriend a lot. Fiance. Loverperson. A lot. With the kisses.'

Even if Cass has to go to work as well, she's just as reluctant to let go. This is an important moment and as soon as it's done, they'll never get it back. So, she wants to hold onto it and savor it for as long as she can keep it for. "Mmm." Keeping her arms firmly locked around his neck, she smiles, her eyes still closed from kissing. "Me too." But, that doesn't mean she wants to start the leaving process now. Maybe if they just stand here like this, no one will notice if neither of them go to work.

No one will notice! Because Lachlan says so. And if they do, they can just suck on something. After several more kisses, the Scotsman pauses, then adds, "Could prob'ly stay fer … an hour 'r so." Y'know, just in case Cass had the time. It's not like his clients are in dire doggy emergencies or anything.

"You're a bad influence." Not that Cass seems to mind at all. "I think I could spare the time." After all, there's other people opening the store and, well, she's the /owner/. They can take orders from her! Or, well, the store could just not open until a little later. No harm no foul. "Oh, but Mister Deatley, what about poor FooFoo? He won't listen to anyone but you!" Now she's teasing. "How can you abandon her for one whole hour?"

Lachlan likes being a bad influence. He's real good at it. And two can play that teasing game. Grinning, the Scotsman turns with his arms still around Cass and starts slowly backing toward the bedroom. "Oh but Miss Aldric~" he falsettos mockingly, "I canna find tha' book 'bout Robert Burns an' 'is poetry from the fifteenth planet in the Gobbledeegook galaxy!~ Wha' were ye doin' tha' was so much more important than m'book?~" And in his much more normal voice he adds, "Wha're we gonna do fer a whole bloody hour?" Said in a rather knowing fashion.

Oh, is he at that. Before she met Lachlan and company, she was a good law abiding citizen who did her taxes and never thought she'd be doing anything like running a clinic or talking about flying and teleporting and believing them to be real. And now look at her. Slowly she walks (still on her tiptoes!) toward the bedroom, still wrapped in Lachlan's arms. It's a little awkward, but he's got the support covered and it's easier to keep kissing him this way. Once they reach the bedroom door, she fumbles around for the doorknob. "Oh, I'm sure I can think of a few—-EEP!" And, well, being Cass, she trips over herself and falls forward against Lachlan.

FWUMP. It's a good thing Lachlan's got a door behind him and is so sure on his feet. Otherwise this might have ended messily. As it is, he just tightens his hold on Cass so she doesn't go falling into a heap on the floor, then snrrrrrrks and starts laughing. "Jesus. C'mere." And he moves to pick her up, because this way she can't trip over herself. It would really suck to have a broken nose or something to ruin the fun, and they've both done enough slipping and falling for the day.

Whup! And up she's swept in Lachlan's arms where she can't trip over herself and break anything. Because, of course, if it's possible to do, Cass can. Instead, she just takes the height opportunity to thoroughly kiss him. This is worth being late to work for.

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