Mar 19 07:32:54 105 PA
From Chronicles
The current game time is: Thu Mar 19 07:32:54 105 PA.
Coventry Place - Dr. Kelley's Rooms
Dr. Kelley's apartment is beautifully appointed in white limestone and marble with black slate countertops. A stainless steel kitchen sits to the right of the doorway, with flowering plants hanging with the pots. To the left, a fireplace burns brightly. Plants climb out of every nook and cranny of the apartment, including some hanging down from a portrait of an alien landscape over the fireplace. Immediately to the left of the entrance, a waist-high white pedastal sits alone, capped by a small, six-inch high white marble pyramid. A corridor leads away from the door and into the living quarters of the apartment. The living room is appointed with utilitarian, yet comfortable, couches - again, in white. The entire floor is done in a pure, thick white carpet that reaches from wall to wall, save for the area immediately in front of the door, a six-by-six area done in black slate. Plants abound in this room. Though stark and cold, it is at the same time very inviting. Looking back into the depths of the hallway, depending on whether the door is open or closed, one might catch a glimpse of a working office, with the words, "Emerald Engineering," displayed proudly in wood. A German Shepherd wags playfully at your feet, her tongue lolling to one side, eyes looking at you brightly. Her tag identifies her as, "Betsy." It cannot be missed, either, that sprigs of garlic and wolfbay are liberally scattered around the periphery of the apartment, along with a bucket of wooden stakes and a large crucifix on the counter. Next to the crucifix and bucket is a piece of scrap metal that looks oddly like a rabbit.
There is a slam of the front door, the noise echoing around the apartment. There is a sound of a bag being thrown across the spare room and hitting the wall, hard. There is the sound of the bathroom door being slammed. There is the sound of water running into a bath. Then there is the noise of someone jumping in the bath, and loud singing, in perfect tune. The song is angry, about a couple fighting. Then after a while, water drains away, and the door opens more gently.
Dr. Kelley leans back in his chair to peer around the corner to see what's happening, though he assumes that Aimee is home, and pissed at something. "Aimee?" he says quietly, then rises and taps on the bathroom door gently. "Aimee, is everything okay?" It's clearly not, but he doesn't know what else to ask.
The door opens slowly, revealing an Aimee in a towel that reaches just above her knees, folded around her body to leave her shoulders bare. Her hair is wet, curling tight curls to her scalp. "Did I disturb you?" She looks truly repentant, tilting her head to look up at him.
"Well... yes," he says honestly, "but I probably needed a break anyway, so don't feel bad about it," he offers with a warm, glowing smile. Surprisingly, he seems unfazed by the sight of an attractive woman in a skimpy towel. He bends down to one knee so that she doesn't have to crane her neck up to look at him, and asks politely, "So, what happened today? You seemed unusually.. well.. angry is probably the best word for it."
Shaking her head quickly, the water rolling gently down her neck, Aimee aims for a smile. "Just a stupid fight. Nothing that matters..." She hesitates, looking at him, studying him with careful green eyes. "I should..." She gestures slightly to her towel, lowering her eyes.
"Oh, oh! Yes, please by all means, go ahead and change. I'll go cook up some dinner. Is trout okay? Because it came in fresh today." He quickly stands again and gives the woman her space. "I apologize for lingering, I just thought that you might have more to say. Perhaps over dinner?" He hurries into the kitchen, repeating, "Stupid, stupid, perhaps over dinner, yes, stupid..." that trails off.
Aimee watches him leave, shaking her head, her cheeks flushing a little before she hurries to the spare bedroom, noises suggesting a certain amount of drying and clothing being put on. After a few moments, she emerges, drying her hair with the towel, wearing a large white man's shirt and a skirt that brushes the top of her knees. "You have a cross..." She comments softly, propping her hip against the doorframe, watching Kelley.
A casual observer might not notice anything, but someone who knows Dr. Kelley well might observe that he's not treating Aimee as such a child as he does with most humans. The why is anyone's guess. Because she's seen the seedy underbelly of the world? Because he respects her more because of her desire to improve herself? It's really anyone's guess. "A cross? Do you mean the crucifix? Well, let us just say that my people are at perpetual war with vampires, so I like to stay safe. Are you.. feeling a little safer than when you came home?" The pungent scent of seared trout is beginning to fill the condominium.
Aimee nods slowly, giving him a warm smile. "Yes... just I don't understand someone..." She too isn't treating Kelley with the heat and teasing she normally shows to men, a softer side showing. "Can I borrow it, not for long, just an hour maybe?" She glances to one side, her cheeks flushing lightly. "I know it sounds odd, but sometimes, you know... confession being good for the soul..."
Kelley smiles and says, "Yes, you're welcome to borrow it. Though if you want something a bit smaller, I can give you the one around my neck." He loops it over his head and offers it to Aimee. "Please, take your pick. Though, if you're going vampire hunting.. would you perhaps like me to accompany you?" He doesn't seem to press the issue, asking, "So if confession is good for the soul.. do you have anything that you want to share?" He looks moderately embarassed at the prospect, but it seems like a genuine offer.
Aimee reaches out, taking it carefully, reverently. "I don't plan to hunt any..." She gives him a warm smile, that melts her eyes, relaxing her face. "Kelley, you don't want to hear all of it, and ..." She hesitates, dropping her eyes, her lashes brushing her cheeks for a moment, "I don't want you to think of me from the things neither." Her cheeks colour slightly, the blushing unusual for her.
"Aimee, I actually know very little about you except that you're.. well, quite beautiful.. and very personable. I like you very much as a friend. Everyone has bumps along the road of life - I know that I certainly have. So unless you're going to tell me that you're a cold-blooded serial killer, my opinion of you won't change for the less." He hesitates for a moment, looks at the floor and then back to the young woman, "In fact, if I know what you've gone through to get to where you are, well, I might even respect you more. But please understand, if you don't want to tell me something, I won't be hurt by it." He pulls his sleeves down over his wrists, and says, "Everyone has their secrets, too."
Aimee 's gaze tracks the movements, her forehead wrinkling between soft green eyes. "Thank you." She hesitates, biting her lower lip, her fingers stroking the Crucifix gently. "Not exactly a killer, just a hooker." She shrugs lightly, her eyes dropping to the cross in her hands. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours..." The soft offer is there, the struggle to trust showing in her face clearly for a second only.
Kelley hesitates for a good long second, but examines the young woman's face for deception and finds none. "Okay, I will share my secret with you, if you share your secret with me. You have my word, and my word is my pact." He smiles at Aimee and says, "Once I've promised something, I'll either fulfill it, or die trying. So.. what is this secret that you need to tell me? That requires a crucifix?" his voice turns up slightly in question at the last sentence.
Aimee shakes her head slowly, fingering it, "I wanted to confess my sins, wipe the slate clean you know. Take out the whoring, the lying and all of that dirt... somehow make it clean enough to start..." She offers him an embarrassed smile, her cheeks pink, her eyes dropping down, avoiding his gaze. "I know it sounds stupid but if I don't, and it goes wrong..." There is a real reluctance to say this bit, "It'd be God punishing me for all the sinning."
Kelley quirks his head to one side, waiting for the more that seems to want to come out, but after a brief moment, says simply, "Aimee, I personally don't believe in a vengeful god. I don't believe in a god, singular, but that's neither hear nor there. At any rate, my personal opinion in your case would be: why would a vengeful god put anyone on Earth at all, if he just planned to make them suffer? No, I think that there is a kind god, one who doesn't look at your mistakes and get angry at what you've done, but perhaps sees them as its own failures to provide you with the life you wanted." He pauses again, then mutters, "But I'm no philosopher, so that all may sound very stupid, I admit.
Aimee wrinkles her nose, glancing around the kitchen and sliding herself onto a counter, her hands resting on the edge, the cross hanging from one of them. Her face is thoughtful, her eyes resting on him. "When I was growing up, we had this priest. He used to scream fire and brimstone from the pulpit, telling us if we so much as thought of kissing a boy before marriage, we're burn forever." There is a wryness in her soft voice, an acknowledgement that it probably isn't so, "Things stick with you, and given I've done most of the things you can do with a human body, and some things you oughtn't..."
Reaching out to very delicately touch her cheek, Kelly says quietly, "Aimee, all that you have done, all of the 'sins' that you have commited " - he makes air-quotes - "I don't believe that's what you wanted for yourself. The.. well, the whoring.. and the lying, they haven't defined who you are as a person. They might have defined your life for a while, but they can't have defined your soul. And when I look at you, I see someone with a very intelligent, kind, caring soul. You just had some bigger bumps in your life than the rest of us." He with draws his hand and goes back to the fish, keeping his body turned towards her so that he can listen.
Aimee stills at the touch, her eyes widening slightly. She listens to his words, her cheeks flushing and her eyes drop, lashes lowering over her eyes. "Still, confession wipes it all, right... " The wry humour deflects the compliments, aims to lighten the topic slightly, move it away from her. "Sometimes we make our own bumps. I could have stayed at home, been a good girl, got married to some good Catholic boy...had lots of good Catholic babies..."
"Well, if you follow your heart, follow your soul, you'll eventually wind up where you were going. At least, that's my philosophy, anyway." He smiles at the young woman, feeling her need to deflect the conversation. As he turns the heat down on the fish to a low simmer, he turns to face her completely and crosses his arms over his chest. "So is it time for my secret?"
Aimee hesitates, her eyes searching his face, reflecting almost wariness at his offer. "Only if you want to tell it. You don't strike me as the type to tell things ...No pillow talk." She colours up, the comment slipping out and her eyes slip away from him, fingers tightening on the cross. "If you want to tell me ..."
Kelley grins widely and says, "Well, I'm not certain about the pillow talk - it's been a long time - but I promised one secret for another secret, so it's my turn." He pulls his long sleeves, which, incidentally, someone might notice that he always wears up to his elbows and lays his arms flat on the counter where Aimee is leaning, palms up. On one side is a tattoo of a flaming sword, the other wrist sports the image of a heart with a stake through it. "Have you ever heard of these before, Aimee?"
Aimee 's eyes drop to his wrists, widening slightly. Hesitantly, she puts out a finger to touch the tattoos but she withdraws her hand, caution making her a little wiser. "Never like that... what do they mean? The stake, that's a way of killing a vampire, least until someone pulls it out again." She looks up, her eyes seeking confirmation in his face, curiousity in the green eyes.
Kelley nods his head slightly. "It's more for turning the undead than it is for killing vampires, but you're on the right track. These two tattoos are called 'the Marks of Heiritage.' You see, my secret that I have kept from humans for so many years - four-hundred and eighty-three, to be exact - is that I am what you call a True Atlantean. I was born on Atlantis before the Splugorth invaded and decimated my homeland." He sighs. "There are but a handful of us still roaming the Megaverse, so the chance of running into another one of my kind - especially a mate - is, for all practical purposes, zero. Thus, I walk Earth with a lonely, heavy heart, trying to make up for what my kind did to humans, for we believe that it was our failure to stop the Splugorth that allowed the Apocalypse to happen. A sad, lonely heart, indeed." A glance at him would certainly show that he is, in fact, quite sad and lonely.
Aimee 's eyes are almost twin circles of green by the time he has finished speaking and she opens her mouth, only to shut it again. The cross jingles against the wood of the counter as she moves her fingers, drawing it up into her hand. After a moment, she finds her voice, soft, husky, "You win... makes my problem look silly..." There isn't any sign that she disbelieves him at all, in fact the opposite. "Splugorth?" She questions softly, as she slides from the counter, her expression uncertain but reaching out a hand, the one without the cross, to touch his arm lightly, a sympathetic touch, a questioning one, testing the waters of physical boundaries between them.
Kelley begins to pull away from Aimee's touch, but allows it to linger, as it feel's nice to have a sympathetic tough on his arm. He nods again. "The Splugorth. Vile, wretched creatures from a twisted dimension where alien intelligences such as them do gods only know what. They control minions with their minds. They're ugly on the inside - and on the outside," he finishes, trying for an attempt at humor.
Aimee is encouraged by the man not pulling entirely away, her fingers squeezing lightly before she leans against the counter. "Never seen one... perhaps I dated one though." She returns his attempt at humour with a weak one of her own. "What do they do to the humans? Why is it your fault?"
Kelley lets out a belly laugh at Aimee's joke, pulling his hands back into his sleeves by instinct, rather than thought. But, after turning off the frying fish, he leans one elbow on the counter and cups his chin in his hand. "What do they do to humans? They enslave them. The do awful things to them called bio-wizardry, which changes them on a genetic level - one might even say that it changes their souls. It twists them into horrible creatures of death, pain, and destruction." He speaks now with more confidence in his voice, seeing that Aimee has taken his news with interest, not horror. "As for why it's our fault, well, it is our belief that Atlantis was the first world conquered by the Splugorth, before they returned it to Earth. And it's also our belief that Atlantis either caused, or was a major cause, of the Apocalypse, at the very least, causing floods that killed billions. And so," he sighs," those of us who survived the onslaught wander the Megaverse, help those in need, trying to make up for our failures, for it would be nigh impossible for us to reclaim Atlantis." His eyes bore into Aimee's green emeralds before dropping once more to the counter.
Aimee hesitates before she puts out a hand to touch his hand on his chin gently, her face softening. "Kelley, it isn't your fault. It sounds more like you were the first victims of them things. How could you cause floods? That doesn't make a piece of sense." Her green emeralds are soft, almost liquid, holding sympathy and warmth. "You spent your life trying to make up for something that isn't your fault at all?" The question is soft, and she offers a small smile.
"Well, I guess it depends on how you see it," Kelley offers with a sad smile. "If we could have been able to stop them at Atlantis, maybe none of this would have happened." He stands up to put a little space between them before he says the next part. "But then, if it had never happened, I would have never met you, which would have been a sad thing, indeed." He glances away, embarrassed at allowing his emotions to show like that.
Aimee 's cheeks turn a little pink and she doesn't close the space, her hands clasping together to fiddle gently with the cross. "I would say the same but a bit of whoring doesn't compare to going through the end of a world and ...all." She offers a small, wry smile, dropping her eyes to her hands, turning the cross over and over, her thumb brushing against the figure there. "Guess saviours still exist."
Kelley grins broadly and says, "I like to imagine, at least, that the White Knight in Shining Armor isn't too much of a fantasy. Now then," he says more comfortably, gesturing toward the cross while he puts the fish onto two plates, "are you going to tell me what you need with a crucifix, or are you going to make me guess?" For a surprising moment, there's actually laughter in his eyes.
Surprise shows on her face for a moment before she giggles, blushing, her eyes dropping to it. "I lost mine, I wanted to pray with it..." She confesses softly, a glimpse of the good Catholic schoolgirl in her eyes before she blinks and it is gone. "Perhaps you just need a horse..." She teases softly, "Betsy doesn't count."
Kelley laughs again and reaches out to briefly squeeze the girl's hands in one of his own large hands. "I'm hardly a savior, Aimee. I just try to do the best that I can." He smiles and says, "However, I do appreciate the thought. And if you need something to pray with, then please, by all means, keep the crucifix. It's yours. It holds no special place in my heart. The big one, now that is a family heirloom, but the little one, I bought from a street vendor in Dregstown." He holds up a sudden hand. "Not to say that it's worthless, mind you, I'm not saying that at all - just that it's not special to me, so feel free to keep it as your own." He blushes a little at what he feels is his own faux pas.
Aimee smiles, turning her hand up to return the squeeze, for a moment her eyes on his face. She appears to almost hold her breath for a second before she ducks her head, pulling her hand away and turning the cross over in between her fingers. "Money isn't the value sometimes..." Her soft comment is almost directed at the crucifix itself. "And I think, saviour, like beauty, gets to be in the eye of the beholder, ce n'est pas?"
Kelley looks blankly at the woman for a time, as if you could look into his eyes and see machinery cranking away. Then, "Oh, French! That's one of the few languages I've yet to learn. Basically my knowledge is limited to 'faux pas, oi, and adieu.' So you've got me, there!" He says the last with a big grin, turning to gather the fish and put a plate in front of Aimee, complete with fork and knife. The looks straight at the floor before asking, very quietly, "While we're being honest with one another, Aimee, may I ask you a very personal question?"
Aimee giggles, at his comment about the french, her eyes lighting up. The plate gains him an appreciative look from green eyes, and his question dims the amusement in her eyes, a small amount of wary caution showing briefly, a flash of dark in the green. "Yes, of course..." She murmurs, lifting the crucifix to her neck, letting it hang around her neck. Her gaze lowers to the food as she takes her knife and fork.
"I hesitate to ask, because it is such a personal question, but because I do care about you and our friendship, I feel that I must ask." He pushes his fish around on his plate for a little while before saying, "Last night when I closed your door, your back was to me, and, well, I couldn't help seeing what looked like, I'm not sure.. Lashes? Scratches? I would like to know who did that to you, because they deserve to pay for their crime. But," he says quickly, "I understand the very private nature of this question, so please feel free to tell me to mind my own business."
Aimee colours up, her eyes dropping to her plate. For a moment her fish gets the same treatment as his, her fork moving it around slowly. "Um, no, I don't mind answering. "It kinda wasn't someone doing it, not like you mean. It was... I mean, sometimes things get a bit rough and the person you.. well, not you, because you don't do that type of thing but.. are with gets a bit carried away." The stumbling explanation matches the colour flaring in her cheeks, "Scratches."
"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I would never have brought it up if I had known. I'm so sorry," he says with vehemence. He reaches out to delicately tilt her chin up to him, then releases it, not wanting to seem to linger too long. "Well, you and I, now, we can make sure that you never have to do that again. Come on," he says cheerfully, taking his plate and giving her a playful push, "let's go see what's on the vids."
Aimee lets him tilt her chin, her eyes searching his face, cheeks burning. "Don't be, I don't mind, not if you don't think less..." She follows his lead, taking her plate and rising from the table slowly. The touch seems to cause a new blush and she touches a finger absently to the crucifix as she moves to the living area. "What were you working on?" She asks softly, as she curls herself onto the rug in front of the fire, abandoning the fork and using her fingers to pick pieces of fish up, eating it slowly, pleasure from the taste in her face.
Kelley ruffles Betsy's fur as she comes over an tries to steal his fish. He laughs at the dog, a friend since she was a pup. He flips on the vids, and weird whistling music comes through. "Oh, the X-files! I love these documentaries!" he exclaims. "But to get to your question, Aimee, I was actually working on some final paperwork for Emerald Engineering. I will still remain sole owner, and will be the last word on how the company is run, but I'm handing over the day-to-day operations to my second. Because of the recent rash of robots attacking the outlying towns, I've taken a position with NewTech, where I'll be senior scientist studying the bots as pieces come in. It should be fascinating work, and it pays more than half-again as much as running EE. So.. that's what I was doing. Now," he says with an air of finality, "I don't think that you ever told me why you came in slamming doors and throwing luggage."
Aimee listrens to his comments, lowering her eyes to her plate, and sneaking a piece to Betsy. "I had a bit of a run in with Desmond." The words are soft, a reluctant admission. "Nothing more serious." She tries to shift the conversation away, her cheeks gaining a slight edge of pink along the high bones there. "I'd heard a bit about the robots, not much, not really...someone said they are pretending to be dinosaurs?"
"No, the dinosaurs and the robots are - at least, as far as I know - two different things. The robots seem to be coming from some other dimension where someone can create rifts without magic. Which, yeah, I know, sounds weird, but as far as I can tell, it's true. I've consulted with the best magicians Kingsdale has to offer, the best psychics, and.. well, that *and* part is that we're still stumped. As for the dinosaurs, I honestly don't know much about them. Kaomas has told me that they're some kind of dinosaur-demon hybrid, but.. that's third-hand information for me, so.. I just have to say that I really don't know." He laughs lightly and says, "Not an envious place for a scientist to be in."
Aimee listens to him, admiration in her face and eyes, the dog getting more of the fish than the girl as she absently feeds pieces every time it nudges her. "A demon hydrid?" She asks softly, her fingers feeding another piece of fish to the happy dog. "I know a little about demons, not much but a piece here and there. Stuff you hear, you know." She is dismissive of it, casually petting the dog and popping a piece of fish in her mouth, her eyes on his face.
"Really?" Kelley says with questioning eyes. "Well, have you heard anything about these dinosaurs? Because anything that we know about them brings us one step closer to stopping them." Then, "Where you used to.. ah.. work.. was close to Dregstown, wasn't it? Have you heard anything about the strange goings-on there? I've only heard that something is happening there, no further details."
Aimee shakes her head slowly, her cheeks flushing and dropping to her plate. "It is near Dregtown and we heard a piece about some folks getting themselves scared in the junkyard but folks always are, its haunted..." She pops the last piece of fish in her mouth, returning the soulful look of the dog with an apologetic one of her own.
"The junkard is haunted?" Kelley looks incredulous. "With what?" He finishes up his plate and realizes that he forgot to get a drink for either himself, or Aimee. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I've been a terrible host," he says, offering to take her plate. "Can I get you something to drink? Same menu as before, I'm afraid."
Aimee hands her plate over with a smile, "I don't know, never been there. It's just what the locals tell me." She moves her hands to the dog's fur, gently stroking her. "Milk would be nice." She comments softly, slanting him a shy look before returning her attention to the dog.
Kelley hurries the kitchen and fetches a mocha coffee and a glass of milk. "So when do you want to start in the lab, Aimee? Because we're ready for you just as soon as you want to start. However, also, you can take as much time as you need to move into the condominium and get comfortable. Betsy has certainly taken to you quickly," Kelley says with a smile.
Aimee takes the glass, giving the dog a look of affection. "She is lovely, I like dogs..." The comment is soft, and she looks up at him, curling fingers around the glass. "Honestly? I can start tomorrow if I may? Move in where?" Her excitement shows in her eyes, almost childish in her happiness. The glass gets abandoned and she rises to her feet, graceful as a cat, and reaches to offer him a hug, almost a celebration.
Kelley bends down and returns the friendly hug. "Well, move into the spare room, of course. You'll have your own bathroom, so you don't have to worry about embarrassing accidentals," he says, with a slight rosing of his cheeks. "I hope that you found the bed to be comfortable enough, because I really can't change that, though I do have a couple of other pillows for you to try. If you close your door at night, it'll keep Betsy out - I'm sure that you've seen that she's a bit of a smuggler when it comes to people's affection." He ponders for a second, and says, "Oh, and you may have to put up with my nighttime vids. I like to catch the news." He smiles widely.
Aimee hugs again, giggling, her face alight with excitement. "You are very sweet, so sweet." She presses a kiss against the corner of his mouth before dropping to hug the dog again, ruffling its fur. "I don't mind her coming in, she is nice to sleep with...and the bed is lovely, and I don't mind what you do in the night!" She stops babbling then, looking up at him with her cheeks blushing deeply. "That came out a bit..."
Kelley squeezes her around the shoulders, and says, "That's okay, I knew what you meant." He straightens up and looks around for her luggage, not knowing that it had already landed in her room. "May I ask you one more personal question, Aimee?"
Aimee gives him a warm smile, her cheeks still pink, the dog's scruff being ruffled slowly. "Of course..." She bends her knee, cuddling it, her cheek rested against it as she watches him.
"Are you and Mr. Desmond.. an item? Should I expect to see him over here?" Kelley asks quietly, glancing away from the small woman. "Because I'm really not set up to entertain more than one person, not for very long, at least."
Aimee goes still before she shakes her head, possibly more firmly than the question needs. "No, we aren't. Not even friends, nor talking even today." She turns her face to the dog, almost talking to Betsy instead, "He won't be over, I don't think it would be a good idea."
"Well, I'm very happy to hear that," Kelley says. "He doesn't seem to be 'your type' - not that I really know what 'your type' is. So that was really probably a stupid statement. Sorry about that," he offers. Then, shall I help you move in? There's a dresser in your room, as I'm sure you saw, and over here -" Kelley opens up a closet "- is where I keep the towels. Oh, and here," he allows three pillows to fall out and onto the small woman with a grin, "are the pillows to try."
Aimee giggles, catching the pillows and hugging them to herself. "I'm moved in, really. I didn't leave much behind, mostly fits in the suitcase..." She tries to brush over the type thing, but hesitates, "I don't know, he messes with the inside of my head." The comment is blunt but softened by the flush in her cheeks. She rises to her feet, arms around the pillows, watching him over them.
"Excellent! Oh, and the kitchen is open to you all day, take whatever you please. I imagine that we'll be coming and going at slightly different times," Kelley says, "so the key code is 1134711. Come in and out whenever you want, though I'd ask that you leave dirty boots here by the door," he gestures toward the obvious area on the floor. "I love white, but it's terrible to clean," he offers with a smile. "The only rule that I would ask is that you not have any guests over unless I am here. I don't normally trust my home to complete strangers." He offers a friendly wink.
Aimee nods as he talks, ducking her head, her arms around the pillows. "I will... I won't..." Her eyes are teasing, the green warmth twinkling. "Um, I'll do some of the housework, I can do stuff like that. I kinda cook too." She offers, tilting her head to look at him.
"Really? That would be marvelous!" Kelley exclaims. "I can barely cook at all, as I'm sure that you noticed with the trout - I saw you feeding most of it to Betsy," he says with a mock glare. "If you want to do housework, I'm certainly not going to put down the offer. The fresher's in the closet below the sheets." Kelley looks Aimee up and down then breaks out into laughter and bends down to give her a bear hug. "I think things will work out just fine around here, Aimee. Just fine."
Aimee returns the hug, dropping the pillows, her face breaking into a broad grin. "Fish was fine, she just looked so sad..." She teases, not moving her arms from his neck as she looks up at him. "What should I wear tomorrow? Most of my stuff... well, its not exactly.. respectable."
Kelley ponders for a moment, the thought having not occurred to him that she might not have the proper attire. "Huh. Well, here. I don't want this to be too much like that ancient movie that I saw, but why don't you take this -" he fishes two 100-credit notes out of his wallet sitting near the door "- and just go out tomorrow and buy yourself some work clothes. Just some basic jeans, boots, and probably some T-shirts. You can start the day after tomorrow, how does that sound?"
Aimee hesitates before taking the notes, tucking them into her pocket. "I'll pay you back." That is a firm promise, pride lifting her chin slightly. as she steps back, taking the pillows. "I can do that..." She smiles, over the top of the pillows in her arms, resting her chin on them. "Guess I better go to bed..." The words are spoken in the soft, husky tones.
Kelley reaches out and ruffles Aimee's hair, gives her exposed wrist a quick, friendly squeeze, and says, "Yes, we should probably *both* go to bed - he says, not realizing that it could be taken as a double entendre - the time is getting late. I'll see you in the morning, unless I need to leave before you're awake. I'll try not to make too much noise. So, otherwise.. I'll see you sometime tomorrow, hopefully with new work clothes, and at the very least, we can sit down and have dinner together." He starts down the hall toward his room and says, "Just please remember to lock the door."
Aimee nods slowly, watching him go. She moves slowly, locking the door with a click, and heading to her room, leaving the door ajar for Betsy. If he listened, there is a soft murmur, as if someone was actually praying.
