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Phoenix taken care of, Labs still a disaster, all cleaned up and--

Worried.

It was annoying.

"Clarice tried to come, but that b***h is in some bad shape. Her Clarice Place is all ******** up." That guy's words echoed in her mind, rolling around in them.

For the first time since the creepy dreams and fog, the redhead felt...

Something akin to normal, whatever that meant. She was a little subdued, perhaps, but. Less irritability, more easy smirks, the endless energy back in full force.

Kind of a pity, at the last thing. She was bouncing around like a pinball, hanging off of labtechs and various trainees and everyone that'd, for the love of god, entertain her. Anything to push away this worry that she felt.

Finally, everyone but Killzone (that was his name, it seemed, with his Enya room, well at least now Clerise had a name for the guy who b***h-slapped a phoenix of dead ghosts) had sort of begged her to.

You ******** off.

Well, the acrobat could take a ********' hint, sheesh. No need to be rude.

So she did, wandering off through each area with methodical precision, searching for a familiar blonde head.

Clerise's ears perked, doing a scan of the area--

She was surrounded by a tiny little mountain of work, work, and more work.

Wandering over to Clarice, she approached the other woman slowly and with plenty of noise.

Best not to startle wild animals, and if Clarice was feeling off, she had a feeling the woman could go one way (rage) or another (morose).

Plucking the note off of the assistant's forehead, Clerise gave her a skeptical look. "When was the last time you ate, miss lady?" She sounded almost amused, and leaned over to give the woman a bright eyed smirk. "Or slept in somewhere with like, a bed?"

Clerise looked at the woman in front of her, smiling in a bemused kind of way.

Two observations:

1. She was absolutely precious.
2. And derpy.

So, like a pug.



A half asleep, retarded kind of pug who likely hadn't seen a bed or a proper meal in far too long. One that shied away from her, at first, before changing her mind and leaning forward just a bit. The fact that Clarice was so weebly-woobly at all made the redhead feel kind of bad for waking her up.

But only kind of.

"Not me, sleeping beauty," Clerise replied with a laugh, waving the sticky note in the assistant's face, not holding it still long enough for it to be read.

In a single and fluid movement, the redhead sat crosslegged in front of her.

"No, I meant you. As in, have you slept in a bed recently, preferably for more than twenty minutes at a time. Or have you eaten anything at all in the last day or so." She waved a hand dismissively. "You know, those silly little things required for living."

Leaning forward, Clerised booped the other woman's nose, clearly oblivious or studiously deciding to ignore the darker thoughts that were lurking in her mind.

"Don't make me fix you an MRE and spoon feed it to you. Don't make me be the momma bird, Clarice. I'll do it, too, don't think I won't~"

Oh, the poor thing. Clarice pouting was something to be filed away for a later date, that much was for certain.

"No," she said sternly, narrowing her eyes at Clarice. "Forever is not a good word to use in this conversation, miss lady."

She grabbed for Clarice's hands, moving to pull her upwards. "You're coming with me, even if I have to carry you like a sack of sleepy potatoes." Her tone meant there was little argument to be had. "Whatever that mumbo jumbo s**t is can wait till your brain is actually functioning. You're just going to doodle the equivalent of dicks in the margins in this state."

"There's a good girl~" Clerise crooned, laughing as Clarice admitted to drawing dicks on what sounded like was a person. "Oh, but aren't they always?"

With a steady gait to accommodate for the woman at her side, Clerise steered them towards the canteen. She wrapped an arm around Clarice's waist, holding her steady and close. God forbid she trip and fall on her face, the poor thing. She only really planned on staying long enough to grab a few MREs (Spicy Penne Pasta, Chicken w/Dumplings, and, her favorite out of the sorry lot, Maple Sausage) and some bottled water.

"Do you want some of the sorry excuses they have for tea or coffee?" Clerise made a face. She liked coffee and needed caffeine, but a girl had standards.

The walk was easy, even if it earned them some strange looks. After all, Clarice was sulking something awful even as she let her subordinate lead her around. If she were to trip or stumble or attempt to veer away, Clerise would pull her back, warm and steady and there.

She had been busy, really, locked in her own mind. Self-pity and bitchy all over the place to everyone, too concerned with angst to really worry about anyone else.

It was a good thing that the gunk in her head had chosen to vanish, because now she had worrying to do. About People. Reine would need checking on, next, and Rep and his two bitches, then sweet little Sasha. Then, hopefully, a little time with Dakota.

All of these people were going to have to wait, though. Because Clerise had one exhausted, overworked young lady on her hands, and she planned to goad her into taking care of herself if it was the last thing she was going to do.

"Can't say I blame you much," Clerise replied as they entered the canteen, bustling as always, the buzz of conversation surrounding them. She didn't trust Clarice not to pass out at a table, so she dragged her along, shoving an MRE in each pocket. "Christ, I can't wait till we get real food again." Some hunters disagreed with her, but damn, pre-packed food was only so good. "You're eating at least two of these," Clerise said gravely. "Or at least like, one and a half or something. C'mon, let's find us a seat, yeah?"

Okay, universe.

She was trying really hard, here. To be logical and take care of things and be a good friend.

You hear that, universe?

A friend. A platonic one.

But how on earth was this playing fair?

How was it fair for Clerise to be escorting a pretty lady who was practically nuzzling her? A pretty lady who had, in fact, taken it upon herself to push Clerise not just to a wall, but against one.

"Well," she said, laughing, her head hitting the wall with a dull thud, her body soon following. They were in the canteen. This woman was going to be the death of her, seriously.

Clerise hooked her chin over Clarice's shoulder. "You are not even playing fair, miss lady." Her words were warm against Clarice's ear, her tone low.

She wrapped an arm around Clarice's neck and let herself indulge in the urge to comb fingers through blonde hair. Slow and meticulous, Clerise gently worked out the little tangles. With her other arm, Clerise made sure to keep a secure grip on the other woman's midsection-- god forbid Clarice pass out right there and fall over.

Even as she did all this, there was an impish glint in Clerise's red eyes as she played up each action to be more tender than the last. She might as well give people a little gossip fodder, right? Not like there was anything better to do down here.

It was too easy to focus on Clarice. The way she melted, utterly boneless, against the redhead was irresistibly charming in its own way. The way the blonde murmured words that were only half comprehensible, trailing off into what might as well have been a happy little purr. Or, well, the human equivalent of a purr.

The more that the trainee thought about, the more she realized how much time Clarice put into checking up on the well-being of others. Preparing juice boxes and fruits with smiles, offering the strained smile of someone working too hard for approval.

(But whose approval was she seeking?)

Clarice worked hard, all the time. She had been perpetually occupied with some important task at each base Clerise saw her at-- and now, when most of them were killing time-- Clarice still worked. Poring over books and writing and shapes in a corner, alone and--

Clerise was a little pissed, actually. That the other woman would let herself be worked into such a sorry state-- and that no one besides Killzone had noticed. Guiltily, she included herself in that group of bastards.

Warm fingers and hands running along her skin startled Clerise right out of that thought, and she couldn't contain a soft laugh. How could she? She was being clung to by a very sleepy miss lady, who just couldn't seem to keep her hands to herself.

Not that Clerise was really complaining. Pressing a kiss to Clarice's temple, the redhead lightly dragged her nails down the other woman's back, humming lightly. "This will be way more comfortable if we lay down, miss lady." She nuzzled her nose against Clarice's jaw. "Seriously. Just because you can sleep anywhere doesn't mean that I can."