Darcy arrives in the kitchen at dinner time just as promised, and with a plate of cookies fresh from the oven. If they don't demolish them (okay, let's be real, if she doesn't demolish them single-handedly), she'll have to bring some over to L's room. Her near-ruined dress is draped over her arm, along with a pair of tights that are beyond useless at this point. Judging from the smells that greet her upon entry, she can only assume she's arrived late. Or maybe she's on time and he's just gotten a head start.
"Oh, wow, that smells delicious." Even if it didn't by anyone else's standards, Darcy's just incredibly grateful for food. Of any sort. She's lost enough weight since he last saw her for it to be dramatic even under her bulky ugly sweater and that jumpsuit that's flattering on precisely no one. Her hair seems longer too, the ends uneven in places from what appears to be a bad cut judging by the bluntness of some of the shorter strands. "It's really good to see you, Sev." And when she says that, she means it. Sincerity adds a sort of intensity to her words.
Severus only has so many relaxing hobbies at all, to say nothing of relaxing hobbies he can do while trapped on an evil space ship. Cooking is something he can indulge in, and while it's occasionally frustrating given the restrictions on resources, it's still not as frustrating as everything else that's always going on.
Darcy-- is Darcy. Severus knows she thinks they're friends, and he knows that he is - at best - an awful friend. She looks different and he thinks he knows why, because Claire looked different; he feels like an asshole for having been so preoccupied he never asked anyone else if... Well, it's too late now.
He just nods, forgetting to notice the shortened name. Terrible evidence that he's used to someone using it. "Feeling all right?" .. She sounds sincere, he sounds blunt and restrained.
"I'll live." So, not totally, but she's not about to cry on his shoulder or anything. And not giving the socially acceptable/expected answer of I'm fine when she's definitely not is just because she respects him enough not to lie, not because she expects he's going to delve into it, or that she even wants to talk about it. "I mean, probably. Tomorrow's another day." Gallows humor for the win.
She sets the cookies down on a table, and shifts her clothes to an empty chair before moving over to lean her hip against the kitchen counter and prepare from some conversation with a partner she is ill-equipped to match. Sometimes she feels like she's beating her head against a brick wall, or that talking to her makes him want to knock himself into unconsciousness, but she's persevered this long. Why stop now? "What about you? What developments have I missed in your personal life?" The answer to that is probably nothing. Actually, it's probably just a scowl, but hey.
Say something a very small voice in his head tells him. But then that voice can't offer up any suggestions for what he should say, and like he did when he was trying to emotionally support Rogue after she nearly murdered him while under William's demon influence, he ... says nothing.
Severus is in the final stages of cooking, but not done yet. Still some poking around to do. He's not sure if Darcy's followup question is mocking or not-- it's hard to tell, sometimes, with her sense of humor, but he's not actually pegged her as someone actively malicious.
"Is that so surprising?" They're friends after all. A fact he's noticed, even if it's terribly one-sided. She frowns faintly and shrugs her shoulders. "I mean, you don't have to tell me, but I do care. So, you know. That ball's in your court." But if he doesn't, she'll take control of the conversation further, and that may not be preferable for him.
He considers asking if she'll feel better talking about something that's not her own issues, but (wisely) reconsiders on grounds of that sounding dickish.
So instead: "My best friend's toddler is here, except he's nineteen now. Lily's baby is here and he's twenty-odd, or something. Black remains terminally unable to exist without furiously wanking over his projected dislike of me-- but at least Edgeworth's gone."
And Darcy proves she's a horrible person by barking out a series of three short laughs before she manages to slap her hand over her mouth and stifle it. "Oh, is that all?" she asks after she's sure she isn't just going to start laughing again. But there's still a twinkle in her eye, so she's not completely over it. "I'm sorry, I am, really, but is it me or is everything more ridiculous than usual lately? Jesus."
That seems like a totally reasonable reaction tbh.
"Lunacy seems to be relative," he drawls, because really tho. If her laughter bugs him, there's no outward sign. Severus picks up two plates of food of some kind (it's late, I don't cook, whatever it is is AWESOME don't ask me) and nods at the kitchen table, setting them down. "Izzy and Diablo were household appliances while Claire was gone." --is still sort of funny, except for the whole while Claire was gone part. Conveniently, Severus is looking at the plates he's setting down and not Darcy while he says it.
"I am actually sorry I missed that." Darcy follows Severus to the table and sits down where he's set her place. "Like, I'm kind of mortified, but also really curious about what that looked like." Because it probably looked adorable somehow. There's nothing that could possibly be horrifying about this remotely.
"Speaking of Claire," and while she knows she has no right to go here, she's doing it anyway, because she can. But only after she takes a bite of food, hums appreciatively, immediately shoves three more mouthfuls in (each meal is still looked at as though it could be the last time she'll have a chance to eat) and swallows those down. It's not like she's going to talk with her mouth full, okay? "You should maybe come by the fifth floor kitchen tonight. In the middle of the night. Especially if you can smell baked goods."
"Like a lamp and a teakettle." And it actually saved them from an incredible amount of suffering due to the radiation drama, while everyone else's animals were sick and dying. So take that, haters.
He sits, table manners a little more precise - aftermarket additions, these ones installed by the pureblood aristocrat who deemed him his protege. "Why, does she want to watch me get jumped?"
"Please. I will cut a bitch." And the way she brandishes her dinner knife when she says that is actually kind of convincing. She might actually physically fight someone in Severus' defense. She expects he can defend himself, however. Magic and all.
More seriously, she continues, cutting into her meal with perhaps a little more enthusiasm than is strictly necessary, "No. Because your girlfriend should be spending her sleepless nights with you, and not baking with me." Oh that? Yeah, she noticed.
Severus doesn't quite choke on his food, but it's clear he wasn't expecting that on the heels of being faintly amused at her shiv mime, there.
It's not the smoothest recovery in the world but at least it's a recovery as he finishes chewing and sets his fork down, fingertips against the metal still. "For her it's been months."
Darcy knows that, he knows she knows. It's not like they were married, hell, they were barely properly dating, and Severus feels like he'll be being invasive if he does more than he's doing now. "She's-- we're." He stops short, because it occurs to him that oh, hey, Darcy knows they are (they were?) dating.
"And suffering. Mostly alone, because I sure as hell am not what she wants, as much as I'm trying." She doesn't set her utensils down, but she does stab her fork into a piece of food and just hold it there. Like she might be imagining she's stabbing it into his leg for being a moron or something. "I know you have no idea what it was like? But the fact that she's spending time with me means she doesn't want to be alone. And that's not your call to make anyway, is it?" Darcy's brows hike up toward her hairline. Think critically about that, professor.
There are some holes in Darcy's logic. Like if it was Claire's call, she'd say something, and it's not as if they haven't seen each other at all, it's just been awkward and distant between them. Severus hasn't pressed her and Claire hasn't reached out, and if he doesn't know where he stands at least he's still standing.
"I don't think it's strange she'd want to spend time with you." They shared an experience, after all, even if they didn't know it at the time. Darcy's right, Severus has no idea what it was like, but they do. "...It's not as if I don't want to see her."
He feels a bit like he's digesting broken glass, getting that last part out. Severus doesn't want to push her or pressure her - in fact he's downright paranoid about doing so.
"So see her." Darcy finally lets go of her silverware to rest her elbow on the table, her lips pressed into an exasperated line. She's pretty sure she's seen Severus make the exact same face at her before. "We don't know what's going to happen in this place from day to day, let alone jump to jump. Don't set yourself up for regrets, Sev. You've got too many of those already." She can tell. The way he talks about Lily, and her son, among other topics.
Anyway-- He's torn, not sure if he should feel insulted by this prying or not. But it seems to mean well, instead of Darcy being nosy over her own personal curiosity. 'Regrets' gets a raised eyebrow, because Darcy doesn't know the half of it, and maybe she wouldn't be so flippant about it if she knew more about, well, the war, but that would require Severus actually talking about it.
So no.
"It's her call." ... Which isn't a No I'm not going to do anything, it's just also not a dedication of intent. Which, honestly, Darcy shouldn't be expecting.
"It is her call. But she's less likely to ask you to be there. Not because she doesn't want to, but that's just how she is. You've gotta know that by now." Like, seriously? He has to, right? Please? "If I'm completely wrong - which I'm not - she'll more than readily tell you to fuck off, and then you can yell at me for setting you up for failure. Which is not going to happen." If she's being kind of a snot about this, it's only because she's really intense and not sure how to convey that without being more than a little bit obnoxious. Tact has never been one of Darcy's strong suits. More gently, she requests, "Please tell me you'll see her."
Severus has had these thoughts, and more. But what the hell is he supposed to do? It's been months for Claire, alone and hunted, and what does she finally return to? Not home, not her family or anyone familiar, just abandoned dogs and him, who she's only known intimately for about as long as she was lost in the bloody hallways. What a stellar consolation prize.
With that settled, Darcy resumes her quest to eat dinner in record time. "But if you don't," this said around a mouthful of food, because fuck it, "I'm going to track you down and I'm going to..." It's unsurprising that her default go-to threat would be kick your ass, but sometimes she has just enough presence of mind to abort and adjust her course. And that hesitation is neatly covered up by chewing and swallowing her food. "I'm not sure how, but I will find a way to embarrass you. Publicly. Don't make me scheme up how to embarrass you because you know I'm like one-hundred-and-ten percent capable of that."
Wan, slightly sad but only in a distant, bitter way. It looks unnerving, because Severus doesn't smile very much to begin with, making even his genuine smiles (which this really isn't) mildly off-putting.
"There's nothing you can do to me that someone else on this ship hasn't already done tenfold, over and over again."
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I do dinner on level 010.
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[ WHAT A COINCIDENCE, SO DOES DARCY. ]
Then I'll bring dessert.
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"Oh, wow, that smells delicious." Even if it didn't by anyone else's standards, Darcy's just incredibly grateful for food. Of any sort. She's lost enough weight since he last saw her for it to be dramatic even under her bulky ugly sweater and that jumpsuit that's flattering on precisely no one. Her hair seems longer too, the ends uneven in places from what appears to be a bad cut judging by the bluntness of some of the shorter strands. "It's really good to see you, Sev." And when she says that, she means it. Sincerity adds a sort of intensity to her words.
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Darcy-- is Darcy. Severus knows she thinks they're friends, and he knows that he is - at best - an awful friend. She looks different and he thinks he knows why, because Claire looked different; he feels like an asshole for having been so preoccupied he never asked anyone else if... Well, it's too late now.
He just nods, forgetting to notice the shortened name. Terrible evidence that he's used to someone using it. "Feeling all right?" .. She sounds sincere, he sounds blunt and restrained.
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She sets the cookies down on a table, and shifts her clothes to an empty chair before moving over to lean her hip against the kitchen counter and prepare from some conversation with a partner she is ill-equipped to match. Sometimes she feels like she's beating her head against a brick wall, or that talking to her makes him want to knock himself into unconsciousness, but she's persevered this long. Why stop now? "What about you? What developments have I missed in your personal life?" The answer to that is probably nothing. Actually, it's probably just a scowl, but hey.
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Severus is in the final stages of cooking, but not done yet. Still some poking around to do. He's not sure if Darcy's followup question is mocking or not-- it's hard to tell, sometimes, with her sense of humor, but he's not actually pegged her as someone actively malicious.
"..Do you really want to know?" his tone is wry.
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So instead: "My best friend's toddler is here, except he's nineteen now. Lily's baby is here and he's twenty-odd, or something. Black remains terminally unable to exist without furiously wanking over his projected dislike of me-- but at least Edgeworth's gone."
All recited perfectly deadpan.
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Who's the bad friend now, Severus?
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"Lunacy seems to be relative," he drawls, because really tho. If her laughter bugs him, there's no outward sign. Severus picks up two plates of food of some kind (it's late, I don't cook, whatever it is is AWESOME don't ask me) and nods at the kitchen table, setting them down. "Izzy and Diablo were household appliances while Claire was gone." --is still sort of funny, except for the whole while Claire was gone part. Conveniently, Severus is looking at the plates he's setting down and not Darcy while he says it.
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"Speaking of Claire," and while she knows she has no right to go here, she's doing it anyway, because she can. But only after she takes a bite of food, hums appreciatively, immediately shoves three more mouthfuls in (each meal is still looked at as though it could be the last time she'll have a chance to eat) and swallows those down. It's not like she's going to talk with her mouth full, okay? "You should maybe come by the fifth floor kitchen tonight. In the middle of the night. Especially if you can smell baked goods."
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He sits, table manners a little more precise - aftermarket additions, these ones installed by the pureblood aristocrat who deemed him his protege. "Why, does she want to watch me get jumped?"
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More seriously, she continues, cutting into her meal with perhaps a little more enthusiasm than is strictly necessary, "No. Because your girlfriend should be spending her sleepless nights with you, and not baking with me." Oh that? Yeah, she noticed.
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It's not the smoothest recovery in the world but at least it's a recovery as he finishes chewing and sets his fork down, fingertips against the metal still. "For her it's been months."
Darcy knows that, he knows she knows. It's not like they were married, hell, they were barely properly dating, and Severus feels like he'll be being invasive if he does more than he's doing now. "She's-- we're." He stops short, because it occurs to him that oh, hey, Darcy knows they are (they were?) dating.
Okay.
"Claire's a private person."
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"I don't think it's strange she'd want to spend time with you." They shared an experience, after all, even if they didn't know it at the time. Darcy's right, Severus has no idea what it was like, but they do. "...It's not as if I don't want to see her."
He feels a bit like he's digesting broken glass, getting that last part out. Severus doesn't want to push her or pressure her - in fact he's downright paranoid about doing so.
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Anyway-- He's torn, not sure if he should feel insulted by this prying or not. But it seems to mean well, instead of Darcy being nosy over her own personal curiosity. 'Regrets' gets a raised eyebrow, because Darcy doesn't know the half of it, and maybe she wouldn't be so flippant about it if she knew more about, well, the war, but that would require Severus actually talking about it.
So no.
"It's her call." ... Which isn't a No I'm not going to do anything, it's just also not a dedication of intent. Which, honestly, Darcy shouldn't be expecting.
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"It is her call. But she's less likely to ask you to be there. Not because she doesn't want to, but that's just how she is. You've gotta know that by now." Like, seriously? He has to, right? Please? "If I'm completely wrong - which I'm not - she'll more than readily tell you to fuck off, and then you can yell at me for setting you up for failure. Which is not going to happen." If she's being kind of a snot about this, it's only because she's really intense and not sure how to convey that without being more than a little bit obnoxious. Tact has never been one of Darcy's strong suits. More gently, she requests, "Please tell me you'll see her."
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Darcy pls.
Severus has had these thoughts, and more. But what the hell is he supposed to do? It's been months for Claire, alone and hunted, and what does she finally return to? Not home, not her family or anyone familiar, just abandoned dogs and him, who she's only known intimately for about as long as she was lost in the bloody hallways. What a stellar consolation prize.
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With that settled, Darcy resumes her quest to eat dinner in record time. "But if you don't," this said around a mouthful of food, because fuck it, "I'm going to track you down and I'm going to..." It's unsurprising that her default go-to threat would be kick your ass, but sometimes she has just enough presence of mind to abort and adjust her course. And that hesitation is neatly covered up by chewing and swallowing her food. "I'm not sure how, but I will find a way to embarrass you. Publicly. Don't make me scheme up how to embarrass you because you know I'm like one-hundred-and-ten percent capable of that."
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It's probably not the reaction she wanted.
Wan, slightly sad but only in a distant, bitter way. It looks unnerving, because Severus doesn't smile very much to begin with, making even his genuine smiles (which this really isn't) mildly off-putting.
"There's nothing you can do to me that someone else on this ship hasn't already done tenfold, over and over again."
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