mbv, NEST HQ, Walls Coming Down
Tracks: *standing on the patio of the lodge, his optics absent as he stares up at the sky over the frozen lake. Doesn't even notice the deer that's walking around on that ice* *Or Lucy Franklin chasing around the big white turkey that her husband and Patrick brought back the day before*
Denver: *In the front foyer, arguing with one of the other Majors, is trying to get back the box that arrived for her that morning, naoplzkthx*
black kitty: *pauses and looks at the two peoples, her ears perked and her eyes wide*
other Major: *RUUUUNS, Denver hot on his heels, and then the pair are outside, and poorly dressed for the weather*
Tracks: *doesn't notice them either*
Lucy: *stops short, as does the turkey* Whoa! What are you guys doing?
Denver: Trahin' t' get mah &*$#^*^#@$ stuff back!!! *She is MAD. She will take no prisoners*
Lucy: Major McHale? Why aren't you giving Major MacKenzie her things?
turkey: *wanders over and tries to eat Lucy's boot lace*
McHale: I was going to... Eventually...
Lucy: *folds her arms across her chest and frowns at him reprovingly*
turkey: *poops*
Denver: *Glaring daggers at McHale, who hunkers down so he looks even shorter than he already is*
McHale: *gives Denver the box*
Lucy: ^_^ Now that wasn't so hard, was it?
Sunshine: *from the roof* McHale, you boob, vhat are you doing?
Denver: *nods to Lucy in gratitude, heads back inside, and THEN she notices she was practically barefoot the entire time and now her bandages are soaked* ... *Sighs and goes to change her bandages AGAIN*
Raoul: *laying on the couch and frowning intently as he plays with his Gameboy. Looks up as he hears Denver, and then acks and jumps up* Major Mac, what'd you do?
Denver: ... T' who? *confused*
Raoul: *points to soggy footprints behind her on the carpet*
Denver: *looks* Oh... Went afta McHale f'r takin' mah box. *said box gets set on the floor while she goes to get more bandages*
Raoul: *torrent of fussing even as he grabs towels to try and fix the carpet. He'll be over trying to mother Denver too if she lets her guard down*
Denver: *moving to sit near her box with the bandages. Will work on getting the wet bandages off now*
Raoul: It's $#$@# ten below out there! *grabs one of his plaid car blankets and goes to wrap it around her shoulders*
Denver: McHale 'ad mah box. *stubborn*
Raoul: Is it worth gettin' @$@#$#@ pneumonia over? You tryin' to give Tracks a spark attack?
Denver: *frown* Beau sent mah yeahbooks 'n medals fr'm wh'n Ah w's in Hah School. Ah'd thought Pa'd tossed 'em all in th' fahr pit.
Raoul: *blink blink, frown even as he wraps another blanket around her* What was that McHale doin' with 'em?
Denver: Bein' a dummeh... 'E grabbed th' box 'n ran... Ah 'ad t' chase 'im 'round th' 'ole buildin' 'fore Ah c'ld get close 'nough t' corner th' #*&$^#....
Raoul: ...That don't make no sense. Unless he likes you're somethin'. But a Major in the army wouldn' do that to get a girl's attention.
Sunstreaker: *thunders past the open door with Sky's hairbrush*
Denver: *chuckles, is about to respond when her attention goes to the open door* ...
Raoul: It was just that yellow guy. *shrug*
Denver: *rolls eyes, reaches for her box, and opens it, before pulling out one of the medals and examining it, leaving a stack of yearbooks visible*
Raoul: *satisfied that she's stopped shivering. He leans against her as he takes out the top book and flips through it*
Yearbook: *is clearly from Denver's freshman year, and shows just how strange fashions were in the early to mid-1990s. Denver's in a few pictures scattered in the non-sports sections, though most of her pictures are in the Track and Cross Country sections, and they show a much younger-looking Denver... One with long hair*
Raoul: At least you didn' have a mullet. *pauses to look at one picture that holds a pretty blond debating team member, then snorts and turns the page* I wonder what Tracks will think 'a these.
Denver: *looks up from tracing the details on the back of the medal with her fingers* Hmm? Oh... Th't w's almost fourteen years 'go... Ah w's 'lot younger, 'lot dumber... *sigh*
Raoul: So how old? *pauses to study another picture*
Denver: Ah turned fourteen at th' end'a mah freshman yeah... Beau w's born 'bout th't tahm... *has noticed the distinct lack of a certain Cybertronian who would normally be here*
Raoul: So... a year younger than me. *grins slightly and continues looking at the book*
*In one of the pictures, it's not clear whether the black-haired girl is Denver, but the way her hair comes down to a point in the middle of her back is very clear*
Denver: *Snerks when she sees that particular picture* 'N t' think... th't stahl w's popular f'r awhahl....
Raoul: *looking at the picture* *shrug* You seen what chicks wore in the eighties? That was pretty weird, man.
Denver: *Chuckles* Ah grew up 'n th' eighties, Raoul. Ah SAW all'a th't...
Raoul: 'N it was only worse when they shaved the sides'a their heads! *this from the boy with the scruffy little ponytail*
Denver: *Snerk, headshake, reaches for another medal, her expression softening a bit when she remembers the meet that this particular award came from*
Raoul: *quietly* Tracks paid for me to get a yearbook this year, from the distance school. It ain't gonna be the same as this, though, 'cause I never went to most the meetings.
Denver: *small frown, nods a bit* Shame, th't... *trails off when she sees her sophomore yearbook, hesitantly grabs it*
Raoul: Awww, I'd rather be workin' with Tracks than hangin' around with a bunch'a dumb kids that don't know nothin'.
Denver: *Quickly flips through the yearbook in her hands, before putting it aside*
Raoul: *looks at her* Somethin' wrong with that one?
Denver: *headshake, reaches for another medal, though now it's apparent that her hands are shaking a bit*
Raoul: *frowns with concern and sets aside the book he was looking at, catches her hands to try and make her look at him* Major Mac?
Denver: *quietly* J-Jes... Nevah thought 'e'd keep th't... *is doing her best to keep her expression neutral, and failing miserably*
Raoul: You mean your dad? *still the concern, which seems much too mature for a guy his age. Especially one with his irreverent personality*
Denver: *Small nod* *quietly* Ah'd fig'ered th't 'e'd git rid'a all th' stuff th't remahnded 'im'a Ma.... *the unsaid "including me" hanging in the air*
Raoul: *not sure what to say, settles for* At least he didn' get rid'a your ma.
Denver: *headshake* *mutter* Th' cancer did th't well 'nough.
Raoul: I... kinda think that's better than a chair leg. *frowns and looks down, then shrugs and fusses at her blanket again*
Denver: *lets him do so without complaint*
Raoul: *finishes and then hugs his legs and scowls at the window*
Denver: *sitting in silence for what seems like ages, before she finally speaks* *Quietly, and in a voice that sounds as though she's not feeling any emotion* Ma dahd th' summa afta mah sophmore yeah... Pa burehed 'imself in 'is job, 'n Beau 'n me... di'n' mattah t' 'im anehmore.
Raoul: *nods and leans against her, but doesn't say anything or look away from the window. Is keeping his walls strong*
Denver: *falls silent, though the slight shivering that happens might give Raoul a clue as to the state of mind the Major is in right now. She's trying to be strong, but the pain is still too fresh in her memory to have lessened, it seems*
Raoul: *quietly* Man... I wish Tracks was in a better mood. He's better at this kind'a stuff than me.
Denver: *taking a few shaky breaths in an attempt to calm down and appear as though nothing's bothering her*
Raoul: *gentle shoulder nudge, though he doesn't look at her* *Sympathy and support without disrespecting her by seeing the tears that don't fall*
Denver: *silent as she reaches for the remaining yearbooks. She flips one open to a certain page and offers the book to Raoul without a word*
*The page that the book is open to shows Denver, though this time, there's a little blond baby sleeping in a child carrier strapped to the young woman's back as she runs in what looks to be a cemetary. The caption beneath it reads "Cross Country Runners aren't trained, they're born."*
Raoul: *corners of his mouth twitch in a grin. He likes that*
Denver: *Quietly* Th' onleh tahm Ah di'n' take Beau wit' me durin' practices w's f'r Track... 'e stayed wit' our uncle 'n aunt on those days... *soft chuckle* 'E always fell asleep durin' Cross Country practice...
Raoul: *slight shrug* There's somethin' comfy 'bout ridin' with somebody.
Denver: *nod* 'N somethin' comfortin' 'bout runnin' f'r th' sake'a runnin'...
Raoul: *puts his chin on his knees* I get that from fixin' cars.
Denver: *small, sad smile* Ah crah'd th' day Ah 'ad t' sell th' 'Cuda...
Raoul: *looking at the floor* What year?
Denver: Seventy.
Raoul: *soft whistle* Colour?
Denver: Th't green color th't's darn near impossible t' fahnd anehwhere...
Raoul: 0_o ...You know the serial number?
Denver: *proud grin as she recites it from memory* Ah loved th't car.
Raoul: 'N I know where 'e is.
Denver: ...
Raoul: *turns and looks at her*
Denver: Seriously?
Raoul: I wore that #@$#@#@ number on my face for awhile. I ain't gonna forget it.
Denver: *Raised brow*
Raoul: We were fixin' 'im up a bit. 'N this one part was kinda hot.... *rubs the side of his face*
Denver: *sympathy wince* Ah 'ope th' gah Ah sold 'im t' treated 'im wit' th' respect 'e deserves.
Raoul: Dunno, lady. I only met 'im after this actor bought him outta a stunt car stable.
Denver: ... *pinches the bridge of her nose, almost looks like she's gone pale*
Raoul: He's okay now. 'N I know somebody who could get the guy to sell 'im, too.
Denver: *from behind her hand* Th't'll hafta wait f'r now...
Raoul: *curious look* 'Cause'a all this hidin' #@$#@?
Denver: Th't, 'n Ah got somethin' f'r Tracks... *gives Raoul a serious look* 'N no tellin' 'im 'bout it.
Raoul: ...Somethin' expensive? *wide eyes*
Denver: *nod* 'Ad t' call in 'lotta favors fr'm family up north 'n back 'ome t' fahnd it, 'n t' get th' painters t' match th' paint t' th one in th' picture Ah sent 'em...
Raoul: *understands and looks down* A car can't fly, Major Mac.
Denver: *small nod* *Quietly* Ah know... But... Ah'm 'opin th't things'll settle down soon 'nough th't 'e won't 'ave t' pretend t' be 'uman 'n c'n go back t' bein' 'is sweet self...
Raoul: *eyes jerk toward her quickly, surprised by anyone calling his guardian sweet. Then looks down again* They said the big shots went to some trial when they were gone those days. *snort* 'N then they came back with that big ugly chicken.
Denver: *Snort* Th't 'chicken' 's a turkey, Raoul... Th're's a farm neah 'ere...
Raoul: *blink* You mean like for Thanksgiving?
Denver: *nod* 'N th' two th't th' President pardons every yeah...
Raoul: ...Really? *shakes his head* I thought turkeys were brown.
turkey: *flies past the window on his way to the roof*
Raoul: 0_0
Denver: Th' wahld 'uns tend t' be... *attention goes to the window* ... *SNERK*
Raoul: *has to get up now and stick his head out the window, then twist around to look up*
Denver: *Gets up and comes to the window as well* 'N they c'n flah... *chuckles*
Raoul: No @#@$@!
Denver: Y'u sh'ld see 'em run... *amused*
Raoul: I seen this guy doin' that when Lt. Wesson chased him outta the lodge. *pauses and looks over toward the end of the lodge with the cafeteria and the deck* Ah #@$@#, I think Tracks is cryin' again. That guy....
Denver: *Frowns, concerned about Tracks, will move to head for the door. Yes, without shoes or a coat, AGAIN.*
Raoul: *pulls his head in, frowning, then notices Denver* Hey, where you goin'? *hurries after, leaving the window open*
Denver: T' talk t' Tracks... *setting the blanket on the bed*
Raoul: Not with no sleeves 'n shoes on! *darts past her and stands in the doorway, scowling*
Denver: *Frown, heads to get her shoes and overshirt*
Raoul: *yelps back where she left him by the door*
Denver: *Drops her shoes and overshirt, comes running*
Raoul: *doing the ferret in the pants dance*
Rewind: *pipping and trying to hide from Petra, who does NOT look amused*
Denver: *trying not to snicker as she points to the bathroom, suggesting without a word that Raoul head there*
Petra: *Sternly* Rewind! You know better! *Gets sassed via little pips*
Raoul: *hops into the room and barely shuts the door before he's whipping down his worn cargo pants to try and find the furry little culprit* Man, what the $#$#@?
Rewind: *Pipping happily, will not be caught so easily!*
Raoul: *manages to clonk his head on the toilet in his pursuit of her. Uses words*
Denver: Raoul? 'Re y'u alrahght? *holding Petra back*
Raoul: *sound of more chasing and then an oomph as he falls in the tub* Oh @#$@#.
Denver: *lets go of Petra, comes to the bathroom door* Raoul? D' y'u need 'elp? *yes, that is worry you hear in her voice, Raoul*
Rewind: *peeks over the edge of the tub, pips at Raoul*
Raoul: *stuck on back with head down and butt and legs sticking out. Manages to get his pants done up again* Uh... Yeah, I need help.
Denver: *Acks as Rewind scampers past her feet, does a bit of a dance to avoid stepping on the furry little menace*
Petra: *Faceplants as she tries to grab the slick little creature*
Raoul: *kicks a little and cusses under his breath*
Denver: *quick glance to make sure the little brat that is Rewind isn't coming back this way, before she's entering the bathroom and moving to help Raoul out of the tub*
Raoul: *embarrassed, but other than the cussing he's showing surprising good nature about it* Man... I got owned.
Denver: *Chuckles* So did Miss Morimoto...
Petra: *Grumble* I can hear you, you know.
Raoul: *rubs his head and gives a slight, sheepish grin* *not sure what to do otherwise*
Denver: *amused, moves to guide Raoul back out to the main room. Will help Petra up off the floor and stinkeye Rewind, who is that little shape peeking out from the other side of the beds*
Raoul: I ain't broken, you know. *but he follows obediently enough. He likes Denver*
Denver: Ah know... But it's gonna take all'a us t' capture th't furreh li'l brat.
Rewind: *Doing her little war dance, happy ferret is happy!*
Raoul: Just a minute. *goes to his little portable fridge and pulls out a bottle of cod liver oil pills. Pops one of these and then hunkers down and holds it near floor level*
Rewind: *little ferret nose working as she catches the scent* *curious pips as she scurries over to see where the treat is*
Raoul: *speaks softly to her in Spanish. Offers her the popped gelatin bubble*
Rewind: *little whiskers twitch, and she scoots close enough to nab the gelatin bubble*
Raoul: *other hand shoots out, snake fast, and closes gently around her middle*
Rewind: *Squeak, wiggles, is distracted by the scent of the cod liver oil, wiggle, squirm!*
Petra: *holding her hands out to take the ferret* She's supposed to be getting a bath right now... Alice is still trying to get the new ferret to eat on his own...
Raoul: *holding Rewind close and giving her the pill as he stands* Hey, baths ain't that bad. You get more friends if you have 'em. *then looks at Petra* You tried givin' her a cornstarch or bakin' soda bath?
Petra: She just licks the cornstarch off, and I'm not sure if baking soda's safe for ferrets to ingest....
Rewind: *oooo, treaaaat! LOVES YOU RAOUL!!!*
Raoul: No, you give her a tub of the stuff, 'n let her bath. *reaches over and grabs the other pill he left on the counter by the bottle, pops it and gives it too to Rewind* You think you could do that, furry?
Rewind: *Happy little ferret, can has goodie!!!!*
Raoul: Hey, I'm talkin' ta you, lady.
Denver: *Chuckling* Ah think she's more concerned wit' th' cod liver oil...
Petra: *small frown, considering* The tub would be more than enough room for her to romp around and roll in the cornstarch or baking soda.... *small nod to herself, glances to the window, goes to close it*
Raoul: *looks, remembers Tracks and shoots Denver a worried frown*
turkey: *flies down past the window*
Denver: *acks when the turkey flies past the window, then she's rushing to go grab her boots and overshirt from where she dropped them earlier*
Raoul: Wait, wait. *can't put the ferret down. Can't protect Tracks!*
Petra: *comes over and deftly scoops Rewind up before she has a chance to realize it* I'll see if I can find enough cornstarch or baking soda...
Raoul: We got a whole $#@#@ commercial kitchen, lady. There's gotta be somethin' there.
Denver: *making her way back to the door, stops to fix her boots*
Raoul: *glances at Denver* That ain't a coat. You can't go out in that!
Denver: *Scowls, has her boots halfway laced up, will finish lacing boots, then go find a coat in her room*
Raoul: *runs to go warn Tracks, only Greg pounces him, and he never makes it out there*
Denver: *Eventually makes it outside, after arguing with Sora that she does NOT need a hat, and losing that argument, then arguing with Destiny about gloves, and having to go back in and grab THOSE...*
Tracks: *still standing on the deck with his optics on the sky. He's not really crying, but he certainly doesn't look happy*
Denver: *Grumbling about mother hens and how she's a grown woman for goodness sake*
Tracks: *blinks and then blinks again as though coming back from a distance, turns to look at her quizzically*
Denver: *almost impossible to determine that it's her, aside from the grumbling, as Sora insisted on plunking the most un-Marine-like hat - yes, it's pink with kitty ears - ever on her head, and the coat she grabbed is almost too big for her*
Tracks: *yet another blink, and then he's chuckling softly and reaching to push the brim of the hat up slightly with one finger* Where did you get that?
Denver: 'Un 'f Rachel's girls. *not happy about the kitty ears*
Tracks: *amused, though it's as if loss is still lurking in the back of his optics* Obviously not Sarah, since I hear she and her rabbit hat can't be parted.
Denver: 'Un'a th' Asian-lookin' 'uns... *frown, no, she still can't tell the two apart*
Tracks: *pause* Sharpshot. *optics turning toward the sky again*
Denver: Ah still dunno 'ow y'u c'n tell 'em apart... *sighs and moves to lean against Tracks slightly*
Tracks: *absently* Sharpshot's a little more serious. Desinex is the one crawling around on the floor after that black cat.
Denver: Th' li'l furball... *soft chuckle, looks out over the lake, her own eyes going distant as she thinks of the reminder that her younger brother sent her*
Tracks: *absently puts an arm around her* I think Steeljaw's rather firmly adopted her.
Denver: *slight nod, leans against him more*
Tracks: *small sigh*
Denver: *absently, as though she's talking to herself* Ah 'ope th' stuff th't's goin' down hurries th' slag up...
Tracks: *also absently* What stuff's that, darling?
Denver: Th' stuff th't means y'u gotta pretend t' be 'uman... Th' sooner th't's done 'n over wit' th' sooner y'u c'n go back t' bein' th' Cobra wh'n y'u ain't on break...
Tracks: *softly sucks air in through his intakes, then turns his head to look at her again, and this time she'll see exactly how he feels. The longing is there; the loss. It's not just his beautiful alt mode he's missing, it's the freedom of the sky and the wind over his wings. Wings he hasn't got right now. He's also touched and a bit confused by her words.*
Denver: *reaching to gently squeeze Tracks' hand, wordlessly offering him support. It's apparent in her eyes that she regrets suggesting that he take on a human alt-mode, and that she means that she hopes for more than just him being able to resume the Cobra alt mode. She sincerely hopes that he'll be able to return to the way he was before*
Tracks: *gently pulls her close and puts his arms around her, trying to show with his careful embrace the gratefulness and forgiveness that he can't put into words*
Denver: *rests her head on Tracks' shoulder, closing her eyes and doing her best to keep her emotions from getting the better of her*
Tracks: *gently rubbing her back through her borrowed coat. He's never been involved with a femme, but he's seen his friends. And right now this just feels like the right thing to be doing.* *intakes hitch slightly*
Denver: *quiet, aside from a soft sound that could be mistaken for an animal in the distance calling for its friends. The small shivers that accompany the sound aren't as easy to miss, however*
Tracks: *isn't quite as self centered as many people think, especially after his years of living with Raoul. The hand that was rubbing Denver's back goes up to gently cup the back of her head as he turns his face slightly toward hers and starts to purr softly and comfortingly* *he'd love to offer her comforting words, too. But... he lost all those words himself long ago*
Denver: *trying to duck her head a bit, taking a few shaky breaths as she does. Years of not crying are working against her, it seems*
Tracks: *kisses her on the kitty hat, then rocks a little on the balls of his feet as his purring continues*
Denver: *takes a very shaky breath and hides her face against Tracks*
Tracks: *small click, and then Denver will feel his shoulder shaking slightly as he hides his optics against the arm of the hand on her head*
Denver: *shivers, and not from the cold. Tracks, your shoulder's going to be a bit wet now*
Tracks: *and your hat is going to be oily, Denver. But other than the shaking only the occasional tiny click escapes him as he holds onto her and continues the supportive purring*
Denver: *eventually, the shaking and shivers slow, and the only sounds she makes are the sound of her breathing and the sound of her heart beating*
Tracks: *is quiet by then, his optics shuttered as he marvels inwardly at the peace that holding her brings to him*
Denver: *very slight movement* ... *muffled* Tracks?
Tracks: Hmmmm? Can you breathe?
Denver: *muffled* Mah cheek's stuck t' y'u....
Tracks: *optics open and widen* Oh no....
Denver: *not only muffled, is sounding a bit mortified herself* Ah knew it w's cold... Jes' di'n' know it was this cold...
Tracks: Just hold still. *intakes deeply, and then starts his systems running at a higher rate, which soon has his shell warming up*
Denver: *once the frozen tears that have her stuck to Tracks have melted, she's carefully moving back slightly, blushing* Sorreh 'bout th't....
Tracks: Wait. Don't run away. *takes her chin in his hand and turns her face so that he can see her cheek, his expression a frown of concern*
Denver: Ah ain't runnin' 'way... *cheek is slightly red in response to the cold and then being warmed up. Though to be fair, her other cheek looks a bit red as well.*
Tracks: You had better see Dr. House. There could be some damage that I don't know enough to look for. *tips up the collar of the coat to gently dab away any remaining moisture if he can*
Denver: *Small frown, sighs quietly * We'd both bettah get back insahd... 'Fore Raoul starts t' realleh worreh 'bout us.... *And she's just now starting to notice that it's COLD out here....*
Tracks: *arm going around her shoulders as he nods and moves to gently guide her around the side of the building and inside. Flinches and hisses a bit as the lake ice booms*
Denver: *Jumps, reaching for her gun out of habit yet again*
Tracks: It's only the ice, darling. Which shows just how cold it is. *brings her in and shuts the door behind them*
Denver: *Once back inside, it's apparent that she's a lot colder than she let on, though she's trying her darndest to hide it*
Tracks: *frowns, and then once more has his arm around her as he tries to steer her toward the med ward*
Denver: *starting to shiver* Ah'm f-fahn... *not putting up a fight like she would normally, however*
Tracks: *firmly* You most certainly aren't fine. *down the halls, down the halls. Nearly gets run over by a racing Seamus and gives him a stink eye before moving on*
Seamus: *boggles slightly before apologizing and scooting off to talk to someone*
Denver: *shivering more, and trying not to*
Tracks: Be careful. Don't bite yourself. *finally makes it to the med ward and guides her inside, only to stop and frown when he sees Russell at the desk instead of Dr. House.* Red Alert? What are you doing here?
Russell: Finishing up a few reports and holding down the fort while Dr. House helps corral the turkey.
Tracks: But... what if one of the humans is injured? *frown deepens, and his arm tightens slightly around Denver's shoulders*
Russell: *gives Tracks a Look, was going to point out that he IS a doctor by training, retort dies before even forming. Then he's getting up and scanning Denver*
Tracks: *testily, as his concern mounts* Do you know what you're doing?
Russell: *calmly and pointedly* I know more than enough to treat Major MacKenzie's hypothermia, Tracks.
Denver: *leans against Tracks, watching Russell with a slight scowl on her face even as she continues to shiver*
Tracks: *looks at her quizzically, his concern very clear. Does she want Russell to take care of her?*
Russell: I think the cafeteria is serving chili... That should be enough to help raise her core temperature.
Denver: *makes a slight face at the idea of cafeteria chili*
Tracks: *about to protest and suggest a nice cup of coffee*
Russell: Melissa made the chili today.
Tracks: *pauses with surprise*
Denver: ... *small grin*
Tracks: *sees her expression and will now move to guide her out of the med ward*
Russell: *pings Tracks' comm as he moves back to the desk* //While you're at it, see if you can convince her to remove her coat. Coming inside will have no doubt driven the cold air into it... And if you have a way of heating up a blanket for her, do so.//
Tracks: *glances at him and gives a small nod, and then begins to unbutton the coat as he leads Denver away*
Denver: *going to put up a bit of a fuss about that*
Russell: *chuckles softly and focuses on his work again*
Tracks: *gently, as he pauses in his attempted coat unfastening* Darling, the warmth of the lodge will have driven all the cold inside with you. Let me let it out, and then I can warm you up a little.
Denver: *A bit sullenly* Lemme do it... *yes, she's fumbling a bit, but she's determined to at least attempt to get her coat unbuttoned on her own*
Tracks: Alright. *takes his hand away, then walks beside her, his head tipped forward slightly so that he can see her face*
Denver: *eventually succeeds in getting her coat unbuttoned, will lean against Tracks now, looking a bit miserable. It's pretty clear that she's not too thrilled with the cold.*
Tracks: *carefully tugs it off, then starts warming up again* *gently* We'll soon have you all better.
Denver: *Murmur* Jes' 's long 's y'u don' overheat in t' process...*leaning against Tracks as much as she can while still walking*
Tracks: Oh don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing. *winces a little at the cheerful supper riot happening in the cafeteria, but leads her inside and over to a table near the kitchen*
TC: *scores a ten point hit with a buttered bun on Samuel's face* >:\
Samuel: *Cusses and retaliates with a spoonful of green beans from the condiment catapult he and Seamus built earlier*
Tracks: *starts at the impact of beans on his shoulder, and then turns and gives Samuel a Look*
Samuel: *Acks and ducks under the table*
Denver: *Scowls a bit*
Tracks: *sniffs and goes to get her chili, and a cup of black coffee*
Denver: *is sitting at the table when he returns, and trying not to let her attention wander too much*
Tracks: *hands her the coffee, and several packets of unrefined sugar, then sets the bowl of chili down in front of her before sitting down himself and moving his chair closer as he warms up again*
Denver: *quietly thanks Tracks as she adds sugar to the coffee before having a sip of it*
Tracks: *very quietly* Do you want me to put my arm around you? I can still feel the cold coming off you.
Denver: *Small nod, attempts to scoot closer to Tracks*
Tracks: *moves his own chair till it's touching hers, then puts his arm around her shoulders and continues his steady radiation of warmth*
Sky: *pauses with her hand over her mate's face and her other hand halfway over to putting a spoonful of mushed green beans into Ember's mouth, then elbows Seamus as he snickers*
Denver: *quiet, contented sigh, works on finishing her coffee. Will start on her chili shortly*
Sky: *from behind them* He's helping her because she's cold, you glitch.
Tracks: *firmly oblivious to all commentary, though he does look around for Raoul. Relaxes when he sees his ward sitting at a table near the back with the non-baby sparklets, Naomi House, Autumn, and Bert*
Denver: *eating her bowl of chili without a word, making a point to ignore the commentary that she can hear*
Tracks: *sighs as he turns back. Quietly* Raoul is fitting in better than I would have imagined.
Raoul: *laughing so hard at Sarah's perfectly told joke that milk comes out his nose*
Denver: *manages a small smile* 'M glad....
Tracks: So am I. *tips his head a little to see her face* You look pale....
Denver: Jes' a bit tahrd, 's all...
Tracks: *gently rubs her far shoulder* You aren't so cold anymore. We should get you to bed after you've finished eating.
Denver: *small nod, working on that again*
Tracks: *purring very softly in unconscious encouragement, though he's not aware he's doing so*
Samuel: *pauses with his head under the table, then bashes it as he sits up with the ketchup bottle in hand. Stares at Tracks' back as he listens to that purr*
Firebreak: *relieves him of the ketchup bottle and then decorates things with it*
Sky: *grumbles and kicks Samuel's butt without getting up from her chair, then starts cleaning up her daughter*
Denver: *Soon finishes her chili, oblivious to the chaos going on at Sky's table*
Tracks: Do you want anything else? They have raisin pie.
Denver: *headshake* Jes' wanna go lay down f'r a bit...
Tracks: Alright. *moves his chair back, and then stands and carefully pulls hers out*
Denver: *carefully getting out of her chair, has to brace herself against the table slightly*
Tracks: *offers her his arm, his brow plates drawn together in his frown of concern*
Denver: *trying her hardest to hide how tired she's feeling all of a sudden, holds onto Tracks' arm*
Tracks: *feels her shaking and thins his lips, then lifts her gently and carries her out of the room*
Denver: *does manage a tired-sounding protest, but settles against Tracks nonetheless*
Tracks: Shhhh. Just let me take care of you. If Raoul saw you now.... *frowns at the thought even as he bears her through the halls toward their pair of rooms*
Denver: *quiet sigh of agreement, is too tired to protest much anyways*
Tracks: *sidesteps to let Patrick and the furiously squeaking Soli pass, kissing Denver on the forehead as he goes*
Denver: *oblivious to the squeaking, snuggles against Tracks a bit more*
Patrick: *trying yet again to sooth Soli's ire, raised brow when he sees how Tracks is holding Denver, concern clear on his face*
Tracks: *still purring softly* We're nearly there, darling. And you're having my blankets as well as yours.
Denver: *soft murmur of protest*
Tracks: It's not like I need them.... *pause and turn slightly to look behind them* Oh. Optimus. I didn't see you.
Patrick: *Small nod as he carefully shifts Soli* *concerned* Is Major MacKenzie alright?
Tracks: She will be. We just got distracted and forgot how cold it is outside for a few moments.
Patrick: *small frown* Have you taken her to see Dr. House?
Tracks: Dr. House is out chasing that turkey around. But Red Alert told us what she needs.
Patrick: *Nod, soft chuckle at the idea of Dr. House chasing the turkey around* Well, Red Alert would know...
Tracks: So it seems. *gently rubs Denver's arm with the hand of the arm that's behind her back* But I'd better get Denver to her bed so she can get some rest.
Patrick: *nods and moves to head off down the hall, clicking quietly to Soli in the hopes that this will help sooth the ire of the little femme*
Soli: *expressing herself to the fullest!*
Tracks: *winces at the thin squeaking as he turns and continues on his way to the otherwise empty hall where he, Raoul, and Denver are staying*
Denver: *all but asleep at this point, shivering even more now that she's not trying to fight it*
Tracks: *lays her on her bed and goes to take her boots off*
Denver: *soft murmur, tries to curl up a bit*
Tracks: *gets the boots off, and then removes her jacket just in case there's any cold left hiding inside it. This done, he grabs his blankets and wraps them around her before tucking her under her own covers and plumping her pillow*
Denver: *trying to burrow down where it's warmer*
Tracks: *frowning. Coms Russell* //I've got her wrapped in a blanket and a flannel sheet, and covered with another blanket and flannel sheet, and she's still shivering.//
Russell: //Dr. House just returned. I'll be there shortly.//
Tracks: //Please hurry.// *sits on the side of the bed and puts his warm hand against Denver's face*
Denver: *moving enough to curl around Tracks as she finally settles into a deeper sleep*
Russell: *knocks on the door*
Tracks: Who's there? *distracted by sleeping Denver*
Russell: Who do you think, Tracks?
Tracks: I actually wasn't. Come in. But be quiet about it.
Russell: *enters the room and quietly closes the door behind him. As he approaches the bed, he scans the woman occupying it*
Tracks: *hand and optics still on Denver's face* *softly* She's settled down now.
Russell: *nods* *Quietly* Her core temperature's stabilizing. She should be alright, but still keep an optic on her nonetheless.
Tracks: *moves his hand from her face to her shoulder* You don't need to tell me that.
Russell: *small shrug* Force of habit... If she shows signs of frostbite, bring her to the med ward. *moving to head for the door now*
Tracks: *speaks again, but probably doesn't say what Russell would have expected from all the vorns on Cybertron that he knew the red-faced warrior* Thank you, Red Alert.
Russell: *pauses, nods* *will go and contemplate this later* I'll stop by to check on her tomorrow morning, if that's acceptable.
Tracks: Go ahead. *hand gently rubbing Denver's back through the blankets in a comforting way*
Russell: *soft chuckle, heads out the door, closing it behind him. Then, he's heading for the cafeteria in hopes of a bowl of chili*
Denver: *Continues to sleep peacefully*
((Co-written with random_xtras))