[The Admiral had let himself in. Kara hadn't been there yet, so he had the opportunity to take in the improvements she had made in her living space. The change was impressive, to say the least. Everything she had chosen appeared to be of quality, and Al was glad to see her decorating sense wasn't just stamped right from a magazine. The space had character. And a comfortable, relaxing atmosphere.]
[Eventually, after plating and wrapping their take-out dinner, tidying a few small objects, and worrying about what could be taking Thrace so long, he sits down with a whiskey on the rocks and waits.]
[A little later than she'd planned, Kara pushed through the door, carrying a single grocery bag. She gave the Admiral a bright grin upon entering.] Honey, I'm home. [She winked and knocked the door closed with her hip, throwing the deadbolt by rote but leaving the rest.]
[Where Kara had been expecting to find her boss already at her apartment, she was at least a little surprised to see him nursing a drink. She figured she must have really gotten to him that morning, and she silently hoped he hadn't gotten any further calls complaining of her rash (the necessary) actions. Still, she hoped what she'd picked up on her way home would curry her at least a little favor. She crossed the room and held the bag out to him - inside were a collection of pints of ice cream in every flavor that looked halfway appetizing to Kara.] Truce?
[Raises an eyebrow, eying her in that suspicious manner he likes to toss around.] The last time a woman offered me a truce, I ended up dodging a blender and my favorite coffee mug. [But, of course, he's just commenting. He isn't holding a grudge.]
Sure, kid, truce. [Standing, he takes the ice cream from her and heads to the kitchen to investigate the flavors. Somewhere in there was a quiet and satisfied "mmm, butter pecan," comment/observation.]
[Kara follows after him, carelessly toeing off her shoes and stripping out of her jacket as she goes, dropping keys and IDs and receipts and credit cards onto tables and counter tops along the way.] Been waiting long?
[She retrieves the whiskey from its dedicated cupboard and pours herself a little taste, eying up the kitchen for the food she's sure is there somewhere.]
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[Eventually, after plating and wrapping their take-out dinner, tidying a few small objects, and worrying about what could be taking Thrace so long, he sits down with a whiskey on the rocks and waits.]
Reply
[Where Kara had been expecting to find her boss already at her apartment, she was at least a little surprised to see him nursing a drink. She figured she must have really gotten to him that morning, and she silently hoped he hadn't gotten any further calls complaining of her rash (the necessary) actions. Still, she hoped what she'd picked up on her way home would curry her at least a little favor. She crossed the room and held the bag out to him - inside were a collection of pints of ice cream in every flavor that looked halfway appetizing to Kara.] Truce?
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Sure, kid, truce. [Standing, he takes the ice cream from her and heads to the kitchen to investigate the flavors. Somewhere in there was a quiet and satisfied "mmm, butter pecan," comment/observation.]
Reply
[She retrieves the whiskey from its dedicated cupboard and pours herself a little taste, eying up the kitchen for the food she's sure is there somewhere.]
Reply
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