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open | claire danvers the science gal!

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Claire is bound and determined to figure this place out. She's out in the park with a science kit. This is not your ordinary sceince kit either. It's advanced far beyond some kiddie game. But then, when you live with a maniac vampire inventor/scientist in a town that seems to build itself arund you, you end up with all the cool toys, plus a few that said afore mentioned vampire inventor/scientist/genius invented himself while here, and a few gadgets that Claire, a genius in her own right invented as well.

This is what has her out in the park with some strange looking goggles on and a contraption in her hands that is all limbs, joints and gears. She walks around the park like this, trying not to be noticed by anyone because these goggles make her look ridiculous. It appears maniacal vampires care nothing for fashion. She works a bit and jots things down in a notebook. Then works a bit more, taking samples of everything from grass to dirt to tree limbs and leaves, even some of the flowers that had caused so much havoc a few months back. She's taking bits and pieces of paint off of benches and any look inanimate object that will fit in her bag. Between her and Myrnin, surely they can figure something out.

[ for Myrnin ]

Late in the evening, when the sun is starting to fall, she arrives back at the apartment she shares with Myrnin. Her bags are full and the goggles are off. "Myrnin!" she calls out, always letting him know she's here first and foremost so that he can show himself and she can judge which Myrnin she's getting today. "The goggles worked just like you said they would." She could see all the particles and weave of everything around her, all of unnatural, all of it... not like it should be if this were any place normal, like Earth. They had both suspected this, but it was still a shock.

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Myrnin has been working on a machine that will analyze the data that Claire brings back. It will break things down to their core and tell him what those samples she brought back are made of. Are they real? Only a percentage real bolstered by telepathic 'magic'? That's his suspicion, but he knows that should be impossible. Unfortunately, there are a great many things here that are impossible. Myrnin is having to redefine impossible.

Because of the way he's been focusing so hard on his work, the Myrnin that Claire finds is entirely sane. Myrnin does well when he's got a project and this is definitely a project. It's new and exciting and for the first time in years Myrnin is learning something new. It's good for him and his crazy brain.

For a change, he's going to come up from the basement lab, an excited smile on his face. He might have forgotten to get dressed when he woke up and he's wearing a pair of boxer shorts with flamingos on them and a long silk robe. He's got his vampire bunny slippers on his feet. His hair is pulled up in a messy bun sort of thing on top of his head. Yes, Claire, this is your genius boyfriend.

Okay, is that robe from her closet or his? That's the true question here. She doesn't ask it out loud though, instead, side-eyeing him for just a brief moment before accepting that this is what he's wearing today. She's too used to his lack of style to be bothered by it for too long. Eve would have just come right out and told him everything that's wrong with what he's wearing. Claire doesn't mind it so much.

She is, however, glad to see that he seems lucid. Lucidity is the priority when it comes to her boyfriend, not fashion.

Setting her bags down on the couch, she walks over to Myrnin and touches the lapel of the silken robe he's wearing. "You forgot to get dressed in real clothes today, huh?" That happens with Myrnin, a lot more often than it happens with most anyone else.

It's quite a bit longer on her, but really he'd just picked it up off the foot of the bed that afternoon when he'd awoken. He'd quite literally bolted out of bed with a brilliant idea to make this machine work. He'd simply grabbed the first thing he could find and put it on before dashing down to the basement where he could start working. Okay. It's hers. He likes the way it smells like her when she's not here. He had grabbed it off the foot of the bed though, but there'd been a touch more thought in it.

it really is. It's not one of those things that are always guaranteed with Myrnin. However, Claire has been good for him, as has been, dare he say it, being away from the other vampires. There's a theory that he's working with on the side, journaling about it really in one of those soft leather bound notebooks, that vampires are better off alone when it comes to other vampires. If they get involved with humans, he theorizes that they might be less monster and more human, which is really part of Amelie's theory. She's just never tried to put it into practice to such an extreme as he's been forced to, which is simply to say that Myrnin is doing well here. Lucidity is something that happens more often than not, something he credits to Claire. Sure, he still gets lost sometimes; he'll emerge from some hidden corner of the bookstore uncertain as to where he is or what century it is. Those are the moments he finds Claire and wraps his arms around her, more found little boy than monster. Of course, there are those occasional afternoons where his frustration gets the better of him and he's angry, irrational and scary. Regular blood from Claire helps. It also helps that there's a good supply of blood in the fridge. Myrnin isn't sure where they get the blood here as no one is required to donate, but it keeps him from getting hungry and that generally helps with his sanity and his self control.

He smiles broadly at her as she comes over to run her fingers along the robe. The smile fades to confusion. He'd forgotten that he hadn't gotten properly dressed. until she mentioned it. He doesn't feel cold and heat the way she does so clothes aren't required to keep him warm. "Oh. Yes. I had wanted to get straight to work on the machine. I should do that, shouldn't I?" He starts to pull away, to return to the closet to gather clothes.

Before he can pull away too far, she reaches out to take his hand. This is a very bold move, one that she would only do when he is absolutely lucid with her. As he is now, it doesn't feel as if there's any danger in doing so. And she's getting very good at telling when such a danger exists with Myrnin. She's almost proud of herself over such a simple thing. At the same time, she knows she shouldn't get too cocky about it. There could still come a time when he could turn on her on a dime and she would be too close to get out from his grasp.

"Hey. The sun is going down. What..." She hesitates, wondering just how ridiculous she's about to sound to him. She is an eighteen year old girl. He is not an eighteen year old anything and he hasn't been for a very, very long time. "What do you think about getting dressed up and going out?" Going out. That's like calling it a date but not really being immature enough to call it a date, right?

But of course she doesn't leave it at that. "I mean, we can stay in too, I was just thinking that we don't really go out together. It's almost like we're a secret and I don't want to be a secret." A pause. "Anymore." She wants to go out with Myrnin like a normal couple would... after sundown with a bottle of blood in her purse. Okay, less normal. But still.

Myrnin looks a little surprised, blinking at Claire when she takes his hand. He doesn't pull away any further though. In fact, he takes a step closer, tilting his head at her as he listens. She has gotten good at judging when he's more dangerous than usual. He won't let her get too cocky, won't let either of them relax too much simply because if she relaxes, she could end up dead and he can't think of anything more horrible right now.

She doesn't sound ridiculous, not at all, but she has managed to surprise him again. He starts to ask her why, but she continues, her words running over each other. He can hear her heart beating a little faster and it's not hard to tell how much she wants this even if he can't understand why. "Oh." Back home he knew that every time she met with him outside of work had to be secret because Shane got jealous, though Myrnin was never certain (until now) if there was something to be jealous of. After a moment he nods. "Then I suppose I shall need to put on something a little less..." He looks perplexed then continues. "I"ll take a quick shower and we'll go. Okay?"

It's sort of her own personal triumph to surprise someone like Myrnin, who has lived so long and seen so many things. One would think that after awhile, surprises come few and far between. Claire likes that she can surprise him. She likes that she can make him act a little more human and less ancient immortal being, and a genius on top of that, on occasion.

She looks just a little bit excited about his response, trying not to let all of her excitement out at once to look silly. "Okay, yeah. I need to take a shower too. I've been out in the heat all day."

And as she makes her way to her room, she already wonders if she has anything here that isn't jeans and tennis shoes. She worries about it all through her shower, all through blow drying her hair and even through adding a little bit of make up. And when she goes to the dreaded closet, she opens it and rifles through the options. As always, Itinere provides.

She's ready faster than Myrnin, even so. She'll be in the living room waiting on the couch in the dress she'd found and boots. The leggings almost remind her of Eve ad make her a little nostalgic while also helping her glean some of Eve's confidence just in reminder of her. It makes her think back to her time in the Glass House when Even liked playing dress up with her. It feels good.

He's lived about nine hundred and fifty years old. There's not a lot that he hasn't seen or done. However, Claire can still surprise him because he thinks he knows her, until she comes up with something like wanting to take him on an actual date. Part of it is that it's been so long since he was human, so long since he dated that he's forgotten what the protocol for such a thing is. Part of it is that he never expects her to feel the same way about him as he feels about her. She's reasonably aware of the sort of monster he is; he doesn't expect anyone to ever love him. He doesn't deserve it. She makes him human though; she makes him think that maybe he can deserve love some day.

Silly would be all right. He might not understand it, but he wouldn't judge her for it. Humans are odd anyway and silly is something that Myrnin participates in on a daily basis, even if he doesn't necessarily see it that way.

Once in his own room, Myrnin has to struggle to remember what it is he should be doing. He ducks out first in a trench coat and wide brimmed hat to buy flowers because he thinks that's one of the things that he's supposed to do then showers and shaves. He leaves his hair down and curly around his shoulders then puts on a pair of jeans and a black henley shirt. He puts on a pair of normal, black loafers, grabs the flowers and walks into the living room to find Claire sitting there. He pulls up short upon seeing her. Something stirs in him, something human made of desire, but also made of a more innocent sort of want. He wants this human in his life, for however long she lives and he's not sure how to feel about that.

"For you," he says as he approaches the couch where she's sitting. "Though, I'm afraid I should have brought something more dramatic to suit how striking you look."

When she notices movement out of the corner of her eye and turns to see Myrnin standing there, she has to stare for just a minute. Myrnin does play at silly every single day whether it's intentional or not. But then sometimes like now he is very much... ordinary. No, that isn't the right word. There is nothing ordinary about how Myrnin looks right now. Their normal is different from everyone else's normal. So normal isn't quite right either.

He looks hot, and she feels that same flip-flop of her insides as she stands up to take the flowers. How did he get flowers so quickly? Because he's Myrnin. That's how. She doesn't even really feel compelled to ask aloud. "Thanks." She says, dipping her head to look down at some undefinable space between the two of them.

"You look... really good too." Understatement of the year. Way to go, Claire.

She stops off in the kitchen, glad for something to do, fills a vase with water and sets the flowers in them. The vase gets put on the table so she can see it every day. Then she grabs her bag, a bottle of blood to slip into her bag, and she's ready. "So I thought we could go somewhere kind of cheesy. Like walk up to a drive in burger joint. Then Ice cream and the park?" She asks. Because his opinion is important to her.

Myrnin has to focus to get things 'ordinary'. It takes the sort of concentration he usually gives a science project and he has to care enough about what he's wearing to achieve anything approaching normal. He does like outlandish clothing and always has, but at one point he cared enough to at least match. Now he's far too busy, his brain whirring with far too much (and a little insane) to care about what he wears most days. Tonight is different. Tonight he cares because Claire cares, because she wants something special in a normal sort of way.

He went and got the flowers before he ever got into the shower. Of course, he can also move with inhuman speed. That helps. In any case, it matters little. He'd wanted to start the evening out right and flowers seemed to be the appropriate solution, as did dressing in something that could be deemed appropriate by anyone on the street. His brow furrows when Claire looks down. He's suddenly curious if he's done something wrong.

"Thank you," he murmurs as he follows her to the kitchen, hovering in the doorway while he waits for her to get the flowers in a vase. He keeps his hands in his pockets, watching her carefully for cues and signs of how this should go. He nods a little at her suggestion.

"I think that would be a lovely idea. Perhaps there will be benches or something we can sit on to eat at the drive in?"

The flowers neatly put away, she hesitates only briefly wondering exactly how this should go. She knows how it should go. But the difference is that it's Myrnin. There is nothing ordinary or normal about Myrnin. There is no rule book where he's concerned. And that sort of leaves her at a loss for what she should do.

Because he seems to be of a good state of mind, she walks over to him, leans up on the tips of her toes and kisses him on the cheek. "Okay. Let's go."

She grabs her bag and out they go through the apartment building to the outside. By this point the sun is completely down so it's safe for her to step out with her boyfriend. (Myrnin is her boyfriend. That fact sometimes still shocks her.) They start down the sidewalk together, store fronts lit up, streetlights glittering, flowers in large pots on the side and hanging from the eaves of the buildings.

On a whim, and before she can talk herself out of it, she reaches for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. She looks sideways to him. "Is this okay?"

She's one ahead of Myrnin in that respect. He really is just trying to follow her lead. Sorry, Claire. He feels a little lost, very earnest and entirely at her mercy for the moment. Maybe as the date progresses, he'll figure things out.

He can't help but smile a bit at that kiss to the cheek. He likes when she does things like that: acts like he's not a monster. She's one of the few (even among the vampires) who do that. Maybe it's part of the reason he's fallen in love with her.

He follows her, grabbing the door for her and making certain that he's walking on the side of the sidewalk nearest the street. It's old fashioned courtesy, but it's also practical. Should a car jump the curb or something on the street happen, Myrnin is practically indestructible. Claire, much more fragile. He takes in their surroundings as they walk, but he doesn't ever lose sight of her. Really, he'd probably stare at her because she's far more interesting than their surroundings, but he's somewhat aware of the fact that normal people don't intently stare at their objects of affection.

He looks at her surprised when she grabs his hand but nods quickly, lacing their fingers together and squeezing her hand a bit, careful not to hold too tightly. "This is quite lovely, in fact," he tells her. "I can feel your pulse jumping in your wrist against mine. It's intoxicating."

Okay, so maybe not normal.

Things like holding hands or kissing your boyfriend on the cheek are usually so natural a thing between normal couples. But between Claire and Myrnin they're layered and complicated and nuanced. Nothing is so easy between the two of them. Claire has to make sure Myrnin can handle it, that she isn't putting her life in danger by doing something, that he isn't lost in the past and thinking her someone she isn't.

It isn't so normal between them, not when compared with everyone else. But maybe Claire is trying to understand and navigate what can and will be normal for them. They're creating their own normal.

When he says that he can feel her pulse, said pulse might spike a bit. Because while it's anything but a normal thing, Claire kind of likes the way he says it, the way he describes it. Intoxicating. "It's a pretty sturdy heart. You could imagine it's beating for your heart too. I think it can handle it."

Sometimes Myrnin wishes that things could be easier for them, for Claire. He wishes he could be a normal, ridiculous, human boy. However, he's not and she's not entirely a normal, human, teenage girl either. It's the only reason that they actually work as a couple.

Myrnin simply tries to go with the flow, take his cue from Claire and let her set the pace for things because there's so much about their relationship that she can't control, like which version of him she's going to have to deal with on a daily basis.

It does and that makes him grin as well, a predatory sort of smile. The predator fades a little to be replaced by something sweet. "Maybe just for tonight," he tells her. "If you think you can handle it."

There's something hopeful and young in his voice then, the way he sounds when he believes he's a monster.

It's such a different tone for him to take that Claire has to look sideways to him. She has to see the look on his face and know that everything is okay. She squeezes his hand a little tighter in hers to help ground him. He is not a monster. He's Myrnin. He's her boyfriend. Myrnin is her boyfriend.

"I'm pretty sure I can handle you and me both." She says, trying to keep her tone light. "I mean I've been doing it for years. Literally." Granted, that hadn't been in a boyfriend and girlfriend capacity. This is new in a way, and yet also somehow still the same as it's been since she's known him.

To be with Myrnin you have to gauge him. and yes, sometimes even manage him. Amelie had put her with Myrnin not just because she's start, but because she thought Claire could do both gage and manage him.

"I think you think I can handle it too." She adds, smiling at him. Myrnin wouldn't be here with her if he didn't think she could handle it.

He appreciates the way she squeezes his hand. Claire is the only one who reliably treats him like a human. There's a lot to be said for that old saying about treating someone the way you wish them to act.

He can't help but smile at that. "I suppose you have, haven't you? It doesn't seem possible, that I have known you that long and yet, you have grown into a beautiful young, capable woman." Their relationship status has changed, but in so many ways things are precisely the same between them. They're not that couple that have to constantly be touching. It's unlikely Myrnin could handle that sort of constant stimuli anyway.

Plenty of smart people haven't been able to manage or gauge him. Claire has survived because she is a genius (Myrnin wouldn't expect anything less) but because she knows how to deal with him; she knows which warning signs to watch for and how to calm him before they erupt into something full-blown.

He brings their hands up to kiss the pulse at her inner wrist. "Today is a good day." Both for him and for them. He watches her for a moment before looking around them. "Ice cream. I believe you mentioned ice cream. Which flavor do you prefer?"

"And you've grown into a saner, more well-dressed (occasionally) man." She tosses back. "Plus the flowers were a nice touch."

Claire is definitely not all flowery prose and hearts and ridiculousness. But she is still just an eighteen year old girl. Sometimes she wants to feel like a girl. Sometimes she wants to feel her stomach flip-flop and her heart skip a beat. Sometimes she wants to cuddle on the couch and feel like she means something to someone in that way. Sometimes she wants to be kissed and kissed and kissed.

Most of the time she just wants to learn from Myrnin. She might be a genius compared to 99.999 percent of the population. But Myrnin is that and more with tons of knowledge and history under his belt. He's in love with Claire's mind? She might be a little bit in love with his too. That he's so very handsome is an added bonus.

He kisses the inside of her wrist and she knows exactly the kind of pulse he would feel and hear there. She has to marvel at his restraint. And how far they've come. Because there was a time when she would have flinched with his lips that close to her veins. Now it just makes her body come alive in an entirely different way.

"Vanilla." She answers him. "I like vanilla. I know it's boring but I still love it. My mom used to make it homemade all Summer long."

"You're an excellent influence upon me," he tells her, and it's obviously true.

In Myrnin's experience (which isn't a lot), all girls like to, occasionally, have some romance in their lives. He may not be very good at it, but he's willing to try for her sake. He's particularly alright with the cuddling and the kissing bit. He's learned to appreciate that in a way that he never had before.

Myrnin is a genius compared to most people living and dead. It's why Amelie couldn't, wouldn't let him die of the plague. He wants someone to teach; he's wanted someone to teach for centuries. At first it had been Ada, but after that there was a string of men and women that didn't make the cut. Claire is one of the few. He feels the same way about the way Claire looks. That she's a pretty little thing is a bonus. It would hardly matter if she weren't. Of course, he might not be so physically attracted to her if she weren't and he is so enjoying the physical side of their relationship. It's relatively new to him.

On his good days, he has excellent control. On his bad days, he trusts Claire to know when to get out and how far to push him. He's not hungry right now and that helps a great deal. He likes the way she comes alive beneath his lips. He'd only had a vague idea of what it would be like to have Claire love him. It hadn't compared to reality.

"Vanilla is an excellent flavor. Don't let anyone tell you differently. I like bubblegum." He considers Claire's words. "You would have liked ice cream a few centuries ago when it first came to England. Very creamy, heavy. Vanilla was the only flavor at first."

"It sounds good. We should try to make some ourselves sometime, how you remember it made back then." It might seem silly, but Claire thinks it could be fun to research how it was made and try to replicate all of that. Cooking is a kind of science, after all, by definition.

She then wrinkles her nose. "I'm not really sure how to add the bubblegum flavor."

They find a drive in that does indeed have some picnic tables sitting outside. She steps up to the outside order station and looks over the menu displayed. Nothing about this is glamorous or upscale, but Claire loves it. She loves the low-key aspect of it. She loves that Myrnin is willing to do this with her.

"I think I'm gonna have a chili dog and chili cheese fries." She tells him. "And a cherry coke."

He ponders that a moment. "I'm sure I could recall. It might be a bit trial and error." But he knows that Claire is okay with that. It is, a bit, like science. "Maybe we'll try an ice cream freezer. Or! One of those balls you throw around."

"By adding bubblegum, of course." He says it in the same tone that someone might say duh.

Myrnin doesn't really fit into glamorous or upscale. He always feels like it's a test and he's certain he's going to fail so this suits him completely. He pursues the menu while she's doing the same.

"I believe I'll have onion rings, a chili cheese dog as well and some of those jalapeno poppers and root beer." He doesn't have to eat; he often doesn't, but he enjoys eating. Food still tastes good. He presses the button and orders for the both of them, looking to Claire when he's done as if he's just done something very good and he wants her approval.

he kind of does.

"Okay but... does it freeze? Does bubblegum freeze?" Obviously she just skims right over the way he explains making bubblegum like he's a thirteen year old girl. Although if she gets over the science of it and her curiosity of it long enough she'll find it hilarious.

Claire's lips twist a bit when Myrnin orders for the both of them. It's actually kind of cool, she thinks, that vampires eat, and that Myrnin will eat with her. So that small twisted smile is definitely approval.

She tales his hand again and they go over to a picnic bench. She sits down on one side and lets him decide if he wants to sit beside her or across from her. "Will you let me steal one of your onion rings and jalapeno poppers when they come?"

"I supposed in chewed form it would, but in bubblegum ball form, not at the temperatures ice cream gets to," Myrnin answers. He knows this, of course. Yes. He likes bubblegum like a thirteen year old girl.

Really, it's a personal preference. Eating is an incredibly social activity and if vampires are going to interact with people they have to be able to engage in social activities. And anyway, Myrnin likes the way food tastes. It is like science. He sees that approval and he might be patting himself a little on the back for making Claire smile a bit.

He follows her, choosing to sit next to her. He can't help but grin at her question. "Of course. You can steal more than one, but you don't have to steal. I'll give them to you."

Of course he already knows the answer to this question. Of course he does. Claire should have known. But as it is, she has to smile with her chin her hand as she looks over to him where he's sat beside her. His random knowledge amuses her. It's one of the things she likes so much about him.

"It's so altruistic of you." She teases him, leaning over to lightly bump his shoulder with hers.

For a few moments she's silent, just enjoying sitting there next to him and with him. Her guard is down and she doesn't even realize it. That's the problem with doing normal things, you relax into it. "Do you miss Morganville?"

His mind is a labyrinth of archaic, brilliant and sometimes trivial information. He likes the way she looks at him that way, likes the way that Claire realizes he's brilliant and appreciates it.

"It's one of my lesser known qualities," he teases in return. In actuality, the opposite is true: Myrnin is selfish and he always has been. The closest he comes to being selfless is with Claire. He loves her and because of that he'd hadn't pushed for more back in Morganville. Because of that, he can put her first sometimes.

Relaxing is good, especially when it's safe for her to relax and it is safe for her to relax right now. Myrnin watches her, enjoying the way that she's so very natural and normal right now. He takes a sharp breath at her question, he holds it for a moment then exhales before answering. "Sometimes. Morganville was familiar. It was...safe in some ways. I knew that Amelie and Oliver would stop me if I---got lost. However, I have a great deal more freedom here." He smiles at her. "I have you. I believe I prefer that to safety and familiarity." He tilts his head at her. "Do you miss Morganville?"

"I'll put it in the list." She offers without missing a beat. She's implying that she has a list of all of Myrnin's qualities. She doesn't really, except for the pros and cons lists she makes in her head sometimes. She loves him too. But she knows fully well how dangerous it could be for her to be with him as she is, as she wants to be.

But right now does feel safe. She reaches out to tentatively rest her hand over his again. She wants this to be a real date. She wants them to be together.

She smirks internally when he says Morganville was safe. She knows that it was only really safe for the vampires in a lot of ways. But she gets what he's saying. Myrnin did have people to keep him in check. Now he just has her. And as he finishes, she feels her heart skip a beat in her chest. He prefers to have just her.

"Sometimes I miss the Glass House and... my friends there." Including Shane even if he got all weird with her. Shane is just an angry person, rightfully so given what the Vampires had done to his family. "But I think I like us here more than all of that too." They do have some kind of freedom here that they didn't have before.

His eyebrows shoot up, catching that implication. He's afraid to ask though. What if that list is very small? He certainly can count his redeeming qualities on one hand. He's aware of how dangerous it is as well. He also knows that he should keep Claire at a distance. He's not going to though. He's not that good a person.

He wants the same thing, even if he knows that he shouldn't. He turns his hand and laces his fingers with hers.

He does prefer to have just her, even if it's not as safe for her, for him, for anyone here. This is a freedom that he hasn't had in decades. Myrnin gets to have a life here, not simply work for Amelie. He can make his own choices without running them through someone first, and he loves Claire. He's not sure that would ever have happened back in Morganville with Shane there, with other choices.

If he had breath to hold, he would hold it when she says she misses her friends. He presses his lips together when she says she prefers this place, this life with him. He'd been prepared to ask her if she would have ever loved him back home then she'd said that and he decides it doesn't matter. He puts a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss.

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