tampered | Log; Ongoing

When; RIGHT NOW hi → August 27, 2008
Rating; Can't be more than PG
Characters; Regulus (

facesdeath) & ~~Cheerleader~~ Claire (

adamantined)
Summary; Cupcakes! No, really.
Log;

If anything, cupcake-making is a good way to avoid working. Number one, it is, in itself, like working. There's work involved. One must work in order to accomplish one's goal. Even if that goal happens to be something that Claire really needs to stop making before she begins to get some sort of reputation. But it's not her fault. Number two, it's a good way to avoid doing anything substantial - at least in Regulus's case, since she's never going to let him touch the oven - other than sitting around and licking the bowl. He needs to eat more anyway. Depending on who you talk to, that might be substantial, but Claire isn't saying anything.

In fact, all she's doing is hanging out in the living room until Regulus knocks on the door. And then she's going to answer it. And then she's going to say hello. She goes over this in her head like some sort of idiotic preschooler learning the alphabet, trying to catch Mr Muggles so she can shut him in a bedroom but all the while making sure to listen for a knock or two.

She's happy Peter's working and Zach is somewhere or other so no one has to see her acting like a spaz.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Claire siiiiiits up and looks over, leaning forward, very offended. Her arms are crossed, very serious. "You're using my blankets in my house. This is unacceptable."

So now it's going to be a tug of war.

He just looks at her with one eye, an eyebrow arched. "Really."

He'll go with this tug of war. Until he just lets go without warning. Not enough to send her flying back or anything, of course - he's not that mean. Maybe.

"Really." There's a challenge in there, and Claire gives the blanket a tug enough that when Regulus lets up, she can basically roll back, with the blanket, and consider herself a winner.

Which she does.

"That was too easy," she says, and then she gives him another look. "That was also really stupid."

He let her win, really.

"It was just fine until you stole the blanket from me." He might be sulking, but his face is turned away so that she can't see anyway.

He slides down a little in the cushions - look, Claire. He is a bundle of sad.

"Oh, stop it," she says, jabbing lightly him in the leg with her heel. Fortunately she doesn't have shoes on, just socks, and the angle she's look at him from is a little ridiculous and making her make an equally ridiculous face so you can't really fault her, can you Regulus? "You are so not sad."

"No." He grabs her foot for a moment but then lets it go - he can't look at her without laughing so he turns his head away pointedly.

"I am so."

He hazards a glance at her, now.

He might be grinning a little.

It's just as well that he lets go, because she's fully prepared to kick if the opportunity presents itself and becomes necessary. For what it's worth, Claire sits up, pushing her hair out of her face, and says, "If you could see how not-sad you look right now, you would think twice about saying that. If you wanna see sad, I'll show you sad."

She has a plethora of puppy faces, after all.

"I've seen enough sad, thank you." He waves a hand in front of her face, still grinning a little. "You don't need to show me more sad."

He runs his fingers through his own hair as an afterthought, flopping out a little again to poke her with a toe. "Happy is better."

Claire shoves his hand away and then bends down to stop Mr. Muggles from getting into a pair of her shoes. His nose is already in them, and she doesn't want to have to chase around a dog carrying twice its body weight in tennis shoe. It has absolutely nothing to do with serving as a distraction.

She does look back over her shoulder, though, to say, "I like happy."

He watches her a moment, though for the most part he just settles in again. He's feeling better, by the way. You know, not-sick from too many cupcakes.

"Me too." It's soft, but earnest enough.

She's feeling better as well and beginning to believe that it wasn't so much poison cupcakes as it was just eating too much. With that in mind, Claire leans back on the couch, letting the dog have his time to sniff here and there around where she's sitting. "Good," she says, and although she's been being silly for the better part of an hour or more, it's obvious she means that.

It wasn't his fault then, so there. He curls up a little, thoughtful - slipping back into being somewhat serious easily enough. He's still smiling though, as he speaks. "It's one of the reasons I like it here."

"There's a lot of reasons why I like it here," she agrees, drawing her knees up. "I mean, minus the curses and stuff like that, you'd never get to meet half of these people if you were still stuck at home. I mean that you, you know, generally. Not just you specifically, but I guess that could count as you at the same time and - "

There's a face made.

"Babbling again."

He laughs a little, shaking his head. "Just a bit. I know what you mean, though." He does well enough, that no one can really claim to have been able to meet everyone they did here - but even more so for him and others like him in particular.

It's just a bit of an off subject. He eyes Mr. Muggles, who seems to have now taken interest in his foot. "Hmmm."

"Sorry if he's bothering you," she blurts out, kind of at a loss. Isn't that what you're supposed to say whenever your dog starts annoying boys? Claire doesn't know. Her experience is more or less limited thanks to her dad and other factors that she's not delving into.

But mostly her dad.

"He's not, I don't mind dogs at all." Almost to prove a point he leans down to pet Mr. Muggles, then scritches him behind the ears. "He's a very good dog."

He leans back after a moment and then, as an afterthought; "I still need to get my hands on a puffskein."

"I think he's my mom's dog," Claire says, almost absentmindedly. "I think I told you this story before, but I really think he's my mom's dog. Like... literally the one that lived with us in Odessa. He didn't even need to get used to the name or anything. It's weird."

It is weird. Sometimes she thinks about it and it kind of breaks her brain. "Aren't those like... Didn't you say they were really sweet looking?"

"That is weird, but it's also convenient." Mr. Muggles gets another scritch as he says this, peering down at the little dog before returning his attention to Claire.

"Er, yes. They're basically balls of fluff."

Claire is used to this dog's act, and so she's more than prepared to set him down on the floor and watch him scamper off. She's hoping that he'll just go lay down.

"I thought a big macho guy like you wouldn't want anything to do with that."

He watches Mr. Muggles wander off, then sprawls a little. "Well. Er."

"I had an owl, back home. I just wanted to show you."

"Oh." Claire goes a little red and then pulls her knees up again, the blanket over them, more or less hiding behind it. "I'd like that. I mean... if there's even any here, but I bet there are."

He grins a little, sheepishly as he turns his head away - smiling slightly, though. "I'm glad. I'll try to find one soon."

He's pleased, and the tips of his ears are a little red. Shh.

Log; Ongoing

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