Happy Don't Panic!-day

[Chuck Carmichael] It's the day after the big birthday/Halloween shindig, and as such Chuck's plan is pretty laid back - not that it isn't usually, but today, 'laid back' means quiet afternoon in, with food and presents and the diabetic-friendly snacks he'll hand out to the building's children instead of candy when they come knock on his door in the evening. His entry way is decorated in a very creepy - in an amusing way - manner; cotton batting cobwebs, giant spiders, tombstones and the like, as much as he could fit into it and still allow people in and out. What she can't see is the blacklights and LED show that will happen when trick or treat time comes, though she can see that some parts of the hallway are festive, indeed.

The rest of the apartment is as it usually is - there's a buffet of snacks, mostly diabetic friendly but a few of her favorites that he's gleaned by now, and an array of take-out menus for when they're hungry for real food, and so on. There's also a small pile of gifts, mostly small, in one corner of the couch.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly had her Halloween costume for the party, but it's actually Halloween now, and she can't go without a costume, nor can she wear the same costume twice. That wouldn't be very much fun at all, would it? After buzzing for entry and spending a certain amount of time eyeing the decorations with some approval, she knocks on the door of his condo for entry.

When Chuck opens the door, it's to Ada Wong of Resident Evil 4 fame. The holster at her thigh contains her sonic screwdriver, but otherwise, the costume's very good. "Trick-or-treat," she says with a bit of a grin.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Treat, definitely," Chuck says with a grin and slides arms around her to place a kiss on her forehead; yesterday, he'd gone with the video game character meme and dressed as his main WoW character, a firemage. Today, it's his own personal meme - a young Howard Aiken (40s style suit, old fashioned IBM name badge, hair style and all), complete with a (possibly working) Harvard Mark I. "Hey, you. Happy birthday."

After the kiss on the forehead, he steps back to let her in, through his decorated entryway to the rest of the condo. "Make yourself comfortable, grab a snack if you want. Something to drink? I have the usuals."

[Molly Quincannon] "Happy Halloween," she counters, rolling her eyes a little at the birthday mention but not really complaining. "Whoa, nice," is her comment about the entryway. "I think my place last night had too much sparkle. The concrete floor still looks like it's been paved with a Meyer-vamp's skin, all the twinkles when the light hits it. Yeesh; I love Isabel, but I don't know where her psychotic fixation with glitter comes from. So what're the kids getting in their bags this year?" This as she noses through the diabetic-friendly snacks and things.

Then she looks over the buffet, looking pleased. "Mini pizza bagels!" (One of her favourite nibbly-foods.) "Awesome! Thank you! Um ... Dew'd be great, thanks. Love the costume, by the way. How you can rock a forties suit so well, I have no clue. Just must be the gorgeousness of you."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Alrighty. There are a couple presents on the couch - nothing fancy, really." That's with a shrug as he gets the Dew - regular for her, diet for him - and quickly enough he's back around the counter half-wall into the living room. "I thought we'd game or watch horror movies or something, and stuff our faces. Kids are getting these packs of whole grain crackers with peanut butter or cheese. I can eat as much as I want of either if I have left overs. And I am pretty gorgeous, aren't I?"

The last is obviously teasing as he hands her her drink and looks her over. "Not that I'm anything close to you right now, lady. That dress is hot."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly chuckles at the snacks, shaking her head. "I get why, but ... you're going to be 'that house', y'know," she tells him. "Y'know, that one that the kids tell the next group to avoid because there are no good snacks. And yes, you are entirely gorgeous." He might be teasing; she, however, is not.

The compliment gets a blush and she sits with her little plate of nibbly things, crossing her legs; the movement bares her right leg clear to the hip because of the slit in the dress, but it's obviously an unconscious gesture, not a deliberate thing. It shows off a lot of tattoo and legs that are getting fairly toned now. "Thanks. I don't rock it as hard as Ada did, but it'll do until I grow, like, three inches and at least another cup size - like that's going to happen, but eh. Anyway, video games and/or horror movies sounds awesome. Anything in particular as a preference, or are you leaving that stuff up to me?" Even as she speaks, she reaches for one of the parcels and shakes it by her ear, running her fingers over it. Apparently, she analyses her presents before she even considers opening them.

[Chuck Carmichael] She has choices - none are particularly large, but one is roughly laptop sized, one roughly the surface area of the top of a couch cushion, square, floppy and soft, and one rather small, roughly the size of a USB drive. They're numbered, the big, floppy square one first, the laptop-sized one second, and the smallest one last. The first, when opened, reveals a striped bath towel in various shades of blue.

"Eh, I don't care. If anyone asks or complains - and the parents usually thank me - I say I'm diabetic and that a far bigger portion of the population has similar problems than most people know. The only food problems I haven't covered are gluten issues, but even I can only go so far." He shrugs, grins. "Besides, if they leave me alone that means more time for gaming or movie watching."

[Molly Quincannon] The response gets a chuckle and a shrug. "Hey, it's your place; don't mean to tell you how you ought to treat the trick-or-treaters. I just know kids, is all. Probably because I don't know if I ever really grew up. And I have peanut-butter truffles. Courtesy Emily; she came by with a book on tea and a selection of teas and a really awesome mug and those cookies we had at the party and there are leftovers and she emailed me the recipe and everything. So all that to say, I have my sweets and probably won't be raiding the treat-snacks. Not," she adds, looking at the buffet, "like I'd need to anyway, with the spread of awesome that makes me feel quite honoured."

She rattles and investigates all three presents carefully before opening them in order. The bath towel, of course, gets a squeak of absolute glee and a hug and kiss for Chuck. (She's wearing perfume; something light and sort of ozone-ish that suits her quite well, as these things go.) "Awesome! Thank you! It shall live in my laptop bag and I will always know where my towel is! Eee!" she takes a moment to investigate the bath towel in minute detail before folding it neatly and, as promised, sliding it into her laptop bag. Then she goes for the second present on the list, saying, "Y'know, not that I'm complaining, but I'd have been squeakingly gleeful with just the towel. But I guess I am a fangirl. What do you prefer, by the way? Book, radio play or TV? Or the movie?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Book and radio play roughly equally, and then TV, which was alright. The movie, though, was an abomination. Not . . . you know." There's a wry grin, here. "Not that I have strong feelings on my sci-fi or anything."

The second, laptop sized present proves to be a metal laptop sleeve, purposely distressed and dremel-etched with 'don't panic' in capital letters on the front and the 'binding', with the other sides carefully done to look like pages. "I did that myself - hope you like it." He may not be terribly handy in the 'regular building' sort of way, but the boy has an eye for electronics and their trappings. He can make even the ugliest, nastiest computer gorgeous.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly chuckles at the bit about not having strong feelings on his sci-fi with a shake of her head. "Oh, of course not. No more than I do, of course. I actually liked the book a little better than the radio play. I know the radio play came first, but I read the book first and ... I just had my own idea of how they all sounded in my head, y'know? I didn't like having it all tied to actors." This with a 'to each his own' shrug.

There might have been more, but ... laptop sleeve, and after she investigates it quietly and painstakingly, she sets it aside with almost reverential care, and then...

Well. 'Searing' does not quite cover the kiss Chuck gets. It's gentle for something that meant, but it shows appreciation and more, and promises more still. When that kiss breaks, she looks at him from a distance of maybe two inches (she's put on contacts to go with the costume; unlike yesterday's amber-gold ones, these are a deep indigo that's nearly black) and murmurs, "I like it. Thank you."

[Chuck Carmichael] She's kissed soundly in return and an arm remains around her as he hands her the last, smallest present, which even in its wrapping feels of him it's progressively secure or securely progressive or something. When she opens it, it is, indeed, a USB key. "That's my universal translator. Well . . . a really bare bones version, without all the add-ons and stuff I've made for mine. Kind of a babelfish, but it does a way better job than Altavista's, and you can tweak it to fit your style better."

It's not shy or self deprecating, the grin, but a subtle thing - to him, all this is nothing, or next to it. It's just three things, mostly silly.

"So, happy birthday."

[Molly Quincannon] Anything that feels so strongly of someone's resonance is something to be handled with all due respect and as close to reverence as it's possible to get without any religion being involved. When Chuck explains what it's about, this bit of code, she doesn't even look at him at first. She eyes the USB drive, smiling softly. "Thanks," she finally says - it's not the enthusiastic squee-glee that the laptop sleeve and towel, but it's somehow deeper. "I think it'll probably take some work to make it work with the screwdriver, but ... hey, I'm a clever cookie. I can manage."

Then she just snuggles up against him, still holding the USB drive instead of just putting it aside like the other things. "Well, this is probably one of my better birthdays, for all it's one of the quieter ones. I guess yesterday was all my excitement for the season, though." Then she frowns a little as a question occurs to her. "What're you going to do over the winter holidays? Y'know, the gift-giving winter festival stuff." Apparently she doesn't differentiate between Hannukah, Christmas, Yule or the half-dozen other winter festivals.

[Chuck Carmichael] "I usually go winter camping, maybe ice fishing, with my friend Steve for a weekend somewhere in there. I haven't really done much for it in ages . . . since undergrad, at least, maybe before."

This is what he does: uses the information he's found about his sister and brother-in-law's saving habits for his nephew and quietly deposits some into the account with no marker as to where it's come from - for college, for his first bike, for whatever comes up that he needs to spend for as he gets older. He also asks Steve to celebrate with his family so at least there's that, but he doesn't talk about it and it goes by largely unmarked in the Chuck-verse, other than as a time to avoid stores as much as possible, and at all cost. He stays home a lot, and drinks a bit more than usual, and lights the menorah in one of two shows of his somewhat (but not completely) lapsed faith that he follows each year (the other being the Passover seder, though he'd missed last year's).

"What do you do?"

[Molly Quincannon] She looks up at Chuck, a bit sheepish. "Well ... depends on where I am and who I'm with, really. The Mayhem taught me a lot about celebrating the holidays, because ... well, I didn't know. Christmas at home was ... um, perfunctory would be a good way to put it. But after the Mayhem broke up, I ... I was the party, I guess. The family for people who didn't have any. Which is about how it's going to be this year, I guess, what with Ellie being with me and so many of my friends being ... away from family, and everything." She looks up at the ceiling, considering. "I need to find a way of coalescing all the winter holidays into one and just ... having open house for anyone who wants. I just don't know how ... um, people of faith celebrate, I guess. I know ... trimmed trees, holly garlands, presents and feasting ... the pagan stuff, I guess. But I don't know from Hannukah very well, and I don't know any of the actual Christianity traditions, and ... am I the only person in the world who wants to turn a winter holiday open house into a research project?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Highly doubtful. I'm sure there are other intelligent, curious and motivated people out there in the world." That's with a grin and a tweak of her nose as he settles in next to her, where she's leaning on him. "Israel's more strictly observant than I, if I remember correctly; my mom converted when she married my dad, and we were pretty loose-y goose-y about the rules."

These little tidbits that come through are few and far between; he doesn't share much about his family to protect both sides - his sister and her family and his parents as well as those he might tell. Steve is a special exception as the only person who's known both sides of his life, but only one person in Chicago - with whom Chuck associates regularly - has met him. Only two have heard about him.

"Anyway, there are ways to get the information you want. I remember my mom used to have an Advent calendar when she was a kid, and my dad kept that up for her. And once in awhile she'd ask us to go to midnight mass." All of this to say, while he has a certain set of beliefs, he's not very strict about following them en masse.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly nods; there are a lot of lines that her curiosity could take at this point, but for the time being, she sticks with, "I'll have to ask Israel sometime. Probably Solomon, too. I mean, he'd probably know the Christian end better than most I know. I just don't want it to be ... y'know, tacky. Or like I'm trying too hard to be pee-cee. I just want people to have a place they can come and ... y'know, celebrate the holiday season. Whatever anyone believes, I guess I just think it's important to get some warm fuzzies in the darkest part of the year. And I don't want to leave anyone out." She frowns thoughtfully - again - and then shakes her head. "Yeah, there's going to have to be research about Hannukah. I mean, I don't tend to get Christmas simply because that can't possibly be when Christ was actually born because shepherds wouldn't have been out with their flocks unless it was lambing season, which is spring, and they took the whole thing to usurp Saturnalia anyway, and..." She blushes and shuts up. "Um. Never mind."

After a pause to sip her Dew and nibble a pizza bagel, she asks, "How're you doing, anyway? I ... guess there's some cabal-and-friend-related ... stuff. Nico. Owen. Stuff." She's not asking how or what (it may or may not be killing her to keep her silence that way); her concern is for Chuck at the minute.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Yeah, I'm on watcher duty while Em's away, which is okay since I've been visiting Nico a couple times a week and Owen's usually there anyway. I swear, people don't half get in trouble around here," he adds with a teasing muss of her hair; Owen and Nico are hardly the only ones who do so, even if it's been awhile since Molly did. "It's . . . complicated. There's been research and all sorts of stuff, but mostly it's just being there, you know?"

He shrugs under her, and while he's everyone's best friend, he rarely expects - or asks - anyone to play that role for him. He also seems to have a remarkable facility for simply rolling with the punches. It's not that he internalizes, because he doesn't most things; he analyzes and then moves on. It's handy, in some ways, having such a strictly math-and-logic oriented mind, even if it does make him seem cool and calculating sometimes.

So few would name him Slytherin.

"Anyway, I'm alright. It's tough seeing Nico in such bad shape - I mean, he's been a bro almost since the time we met," and yes, he uses 'bro' with appropriate irony, "and I for sure count him in my top five. But he'll be alright physically if he follows doctors ordersm and the rest will come."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly nods, but for all the nod and the sheepish smile at the teasing muss of her hair and the rest, her focus is on him and how he's coping. A hand moves to his neck and massages gently, more for comfort and sensation than because he's particularly tense (though if tension is found, it is worked away; she has strong, dextrous fingers, does Molly, a side effect of all that time spent typing and building tech, calloused in new places from gripping a quarterstaff and, more recently, something else [a firearm, though she hasn't mentioned that as yet]). "Yeah, I know, but ... y'know, just so you remember I'm here. If you need talking or hugs or video games or whatever. I worry that sometimes you might forget. You need down-time and pampering too. Regardless of circumstances."

Then, with another thoughtful frown, she asks, "How do you unwind, anyway?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Rowing, usually. It clears everything else out - I'm far from a natural athlete, so I have to focus on breathing and timing and everything. It's the first way I learned to meditate, doing so while working out. Sometimes gaming, if it's a particularly in the zone kind of game. And if neither of those work, I put on some Rush, grab some snacks and appropriate drinks and code until I can't any more, then fall into exhausted sleep."

All of which is relatively healthy as these things go; he doesn't binge drink, doesn't reach for drugs, doesn't deny or internalize or any such thing. He just processes and progresses as much as he possibly can. And when he can't? He puts it out of mind, other than at very specific times of year.

Like Hannukah, Passover and birthdays.

"But I'm not really . . . I don't know. Getting wound up never seemed to have much purpose, so I generally don't. I find a way over, around or through, and pursue it."

[Molly Quincannon] That last gets a confused blink. "Well ... sure getting wound up has purpose. It's ... like ... fuel. At least for me. I ... I never even tried meditating; concentrating just comes naturally for me, but ... I dunno, I didn't think that getting wound up as something a person could stop so much as ... channel. So ... yeah, getting wound up is awesome. Denotes passion, at least for me. Hits like a double-dose of espresso, and gives purpose. Well, I mean, that's if you can direct it and if it doesn't turn into Muppet-flail at the slightest provocation, which I get happens with some people. I mean ... how do you keep from getting wound up? And ... why? I mean ... stuff happens and it requires some kind of emotional response ... right?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Stuff happens and requires things be done about it. People require some kind of emotional response as a general rule, but stuff? It doesn't know the difference. I guess over, around or through kind of is my way of channeling. It gets a thing done, usually, and if it's not the thing people expect - because like you, most people expect an emotional response to stuff - all the better."

He shrugs and watches her - this is something on which they are very clearly different. They may well be polar opposites, in fact.

"I just don't see any need to . . . I don't know. All the physical markers are so exhausting; better to just move and get something done, I think."

[Molly Quincannon] "But ... how you feel and what you do are two different things," is the response, and she still looks so puzzled. "The physical markers of wound-up are exhausting, sure, but part of that exhaustion, surely, is understanding the ... urgency, y'know? I guess that's what I don't get - what's the difference, for you, between a thing that needs to be dealt with urgently and something that just needs to be dealt with? I ... guess that's where your 'there's always time to double- and triple-check every detail' thing comes from," she goes on, half-answering her own question. "Because ... you don't have an emotional reaction. It's so strange to me." It's not judgemental; in fact, there's a bit of a smile when she speaks. "I mean, you don't have the same relationship with Time that I do, and yet ... I'm the one who really seems to think it matters - time passing, I mean. What difference a day, an hour, a second can make. Or maybe it's not strange; I can't bend time yet but I understand it. Or at least, the illusion of it. I dunno. The entire universe can change in a second. Or be born in one."

Then she chuckles. "But we've had this one. I try to understand, is all. It's like ... you're cool and collected, and I'm frantic energy, and we play both ends to the middle. Funny how it works, I guess. Maybe I'm just never not going to get it. Too thick-headed, or something. But I admire it, even if I don't get it."

[Chuck Carmichael] "To you . . . emotions get things done. To me, emotions inhibit the doing. I can't . . . I can worry about Nico and still do what I need to because there's something to get through, you know? But the reaction is to him, not to the situation. My mind . . . I don't remember things as well as you do, and I don't calculate as quickly, but I process at speeds that a lot of people can't manage. If I let the emotional stuff come in - because it's a trained response, not a purely instinctive one - the processor overloads."

He smiles, shrugs.

"But yeah, we've had this one. I think I get yours better than you get mine, as a general rule, though I was never, ever as frantic energy as you."

[Molly Quincannon] "Well, so few people can work it the way I can." She grins, all teasing, and bops his nose lightly with the tip of her index finger. "I am a creature of passion, of fire and flicker-flash, and if I can still get the job done with all that flying around, I guess it'll do. It'll have to, really - it's what I've got. Well, that and a rapidly growing set of skills," she adds with a grin. "And apparently wardrobe. And set of responsibilities. Ever have one of those moments," and the thoughtful frown is back, "where you turn around and look at your life and realise that there's all this stuff you're not necessarily prepared for and mostly you're like, 'bring it, world!' but sometimes you want to turn around and ask an adult for help?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Oh, yes. More often than you might think, and then I go drop a couple hundred on video games or a new console or something completely irresponsible and nonsensical. So . . . games or movie for while we take care of trick or treaters? We don't get a ton, being in a building full of old people ho refuse to get out of the Green, but we get a few."

And so the evening goes, with occasional breaks in whatever they decide to do to answer the door to the building's few children and grandchildren. It's not a bad afternoon and evening, all told, but one that's rather cozy and comfortable for a pair of people so full of frantic and progress.