Willin'

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"No, no. Whjy don't jyou sstajy herre?"

T'yeellaa mentally paused, taking a mental inventory of how clean her domicile was. Satisfied that it would be fit for family guests, she redoubled.

"Take the bed. jI'll ssleep on the couch. Therre'ss no rreasson forr jyou to pajy forr lodgjing."

[Quarles P. Dage]

"Are you sure?"

Still standing out in the corridor, Quarles once more grabbed a hold of his suitcase, the strap-pack safely secured on his shoulders.

"I'm not here to be an imposition, and honestly it's my fault for not paying more attention to Quentin's schedules."

His free hand moved out from beneath hers to rest gently on her decorated shoulder, his smile turning gentle and thankful in the face of her generosity. It was an expression that held weight from his many years.

"I do appreciate the offer, though."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jYou'rre not jimpossjing, Arr Dage. jI'm verrjy glad to meet jyou. And at leasst forr the dajy, jI have the room."

T'yeellaa gave the old man's hand a squeeze.

"Pluss, jI'd love to hearr all ssorrtss of sstorrjiess about Ssamuss grrowjing up. Herre, let me get jyourr bagss and get jyou ssjituated beforre jI'm drragged to djinnerr. jI'll excusse mjysself earrljy, and we can go out forr ssome caf?"

[Quarles P. Dage]

Ushered in, he was conscious to keep his arms close to his sides and his steps careful as she graciously had hold of his suitcase.

"Caf sounds wonderful."

And it truly did; after so many layovers a person got tired of the same food and drink being offered. Of course, that person also needed a small bit of rest once reaching their destination, and Quarles was no different.

"If it's all the same to you though, I'll probably just nap while you're out." His eyes went to the sofa, his gaze one of intent and winded determination. "Long legs and small seats don't exactly make for a good combination.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa played ad-hoc host well, putting Quarles' things away in a tidy corner of the living room.

"Okajy, ljivjing rroom...bedrroom, the rrefrressherr jiss off to the sjide. The kjitchenette jiss on the farr end, but..."

She made a face.

"jYou mjight want to orrderr out jif jyou get hungrrjy. Let me gjive jyou mjy comm frrequencjy."

Drawing a flimsi from a holder on the desk, T'yeellaa scrawled out digits before passing them off to Mr. Dage.

"jI'm sso ssorrrjy jI can't sstajy jimmedjiateljy. Beljieve me, jI'd defjiniteljy rratherr not be gojing to thjiss djinnerr. jIss therre anjythjing jI can get forr jyou?"

[Quarles P. Dage]

Taking the flimsi, he smiled in thanks.

"Oh, I think I'll be fine. Nothing a little bit of rest won't cure."

Carefully the strap-pack was slid from his shoulders to be rested against his suitcase.

"Again... " he let his eyes travel across the interior of her quarters before once more returning to her. She looked unhappy about whatever dinner she had to attend, but there was also a degree of something else there that he couldn't quite figure out. Her clothing was immaculate, her hair expertly done, her entire posture was one of proper upbringing. It wasn't a bad look at all, and for a fleeting moment he had to wonder how his boy had managed to take her fancy - if what Gradoona had said was true.

His smile remained.

"... thank you very much for letting me stay, T'yeellaa."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jI'm glad to have jyou asss a guesst, Arr Dage."

With a grin, T'yeellaa kissed his hand, and made her exit as gracefully as she could on heels.

Once out of her quarters, T'yeellaa fished her comm stick out of her purse (the very fact that she was carrying a purse was an annoyance) and dialed the frequency at the top of her favorites.

"Gai'tou, jyou bussjy?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

There was a muffled stirring on the other end of the comm before a slightly sluggish voice answered.

"Mmm? Kitten?"

A pause, as a cough sounded, followed by a slight groan.

"Kitten it's... " another pause, then the voice slurred onward.

"... it's two in the morning here."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Oh."

She halted, ears going askew. Of course she knew that. Galactic Naval Standard.

"Rrjight. Ssorrrjy."

It could wait. Except it couldn't. Grimacing, she pushed onward.

"jI jusst rran jinto an jinterresstjing guesst on the sstatjion, and thought jyou sshould know."

[Q. Samus Dage]

There was another bit of rustling to be heard, before his voice returned with only a touch less mumbling. It was still easy to tell though, that the man on the other end was only partially aware of the words being spoken to him.

"That's nice. Did you order another fluffy box to celebrate?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Quentjin."

It was said firmly and pointedly, in a way she'd carefully developed to shake loose his infamous half-awake fugue states. For as much as was said about Cizerack being needy with their sleep, humans didn't suffer a deficit with much dignity either.

"jIt'ss jyourr fatherr."

[Q. Samus Dage]

The silence on the other side was deep, and one might think that the blonde had zoned back into the blissful state of slumber once more, had it not been for rustling, another groan, and the word that followed.

"... what."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T’yeellaa could feel the barometer dip with that one word. Her tail stilled as she slowed the pace of her walk to a stop.

”jIss that a bad thjing? jI thought jyou would be happjy to hearr about jit.”

A niggling feeling of doubt began to creep inside her head. Samus wasn’t exactly guarded about his family, he just usually didn’t talk about them. Not the way she did with her own. Had she made some critical misjudgment?

[Q. Samus Dage]

"No, no it's not a bad thing," each word came out slowly as the voice on the other end maintained its' rumbled pitch.

"Just... not what I expected to hear."

He could still remember the last time the two had talked; it had been when he left Myomar, and the elder Dage had not been happy, to say the least.

"Last time we talked, we weren't exactly talking, if you get my drift."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Oh." T'yeellaa's ears drooped a bit, and she tried not to audibly suck her teeth over the comm. "That bad, huh?"

Having a row with parents was definitely something T'yeellaa understood. Mother was particularly good at provoking a tiff, and her fathers occasionally pulled their own weight. Still, the family had a lot of cohesion that she took for granted. Maybe she shouldn't take it so lightly.

"jI've got that sstupjid djinnerr rrjight now, but jI've got hjim put up jin mjy quarrterrss. Jusst tell me what jI sshould do, and jI'll handle jit untjil jyou get home, okajy?"

T'y picked at one of the bows tied along her midsection, teasing but not unraveling.

[Q. Samus Dage]

And that was the real question, wasn't it?

"Honestly Kitten, I have no idea. I guess just do what you normally do, except with clothes on?"

A sigh as the silence that followed was undoubtedly full of sleep-addled yet serious thought. He was mostly awake now, but there were still vestiges of slumber evident in a few words.

"Though, you two would get along famously over some food. Last I knew, that angry old codger ate his steaks while they were still braying."

A thought solidified.

"Bring him some of your leftovers."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Oil and water, these two. T'yeellaa raised an eyebrow at Samus's suggestion.

"jYou'rre kjiddjing."

But she knew he wasn't. She'd picked up his audible tells from experience.

"Well, jI can ssee about that. jI wass plannjing on gettjing out earrljy, mjight be tackjy jif jI took a plate to go. But jI can thjink of ssomethjing for hjim, forr surre."

She glanced ahead at the Tia'haako restaurant, making sure at the last minute that her fussily-coifed hair was still in place.

"Gotta go now, gai'tou. Ja irra. Ssee jyou ssoon."

[Quarles P. Dage]

* * *

Admittedly, his nap was a short one. He never really needed much sleep, anyway. years of working the land had bred in him a strange set of habits, and Quarles was never one to argue with his own internal clock. He'd fallen into a light slumber while sitting on the couch, a holo of some silly food show playing. It wasn't anything that'd held his attention, but it had certainly done a good job of making his eyelids heavy, and he'd allowed the inevitable to pull him into a state of sleep that was surprisingly restful and rejuvenating.

When he'd woken, he'd let out a long breath as the holo still droned on, and with a small stretch, rose to stand on bare feet. His small trek took him to the kitchenette, and ever-curius, he pulled the handle of the closest cupboard.

The first thing he saw was a box of cereal. Brightly colored, some fruity concoction. No doubt Quentin's. That boy had a strange affinity for brightly colored sugary foods.

The box beside it was of a chocolaty offering... Mandalorian Choco-Rockets?

A sigh, as he realized Quentin had still retained his childhood tastes with an iron grip.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The door parted, and T'yeellaa returned back to her quarters, purse in one hand, and a pair of stacked cartons in the other.

"Arr Dage?"

Her eyes didn't have to travel far. The elder Dage was cupboard-shopping in the kitchenette. She smiled, her ears rising slightly.

"jI brrought jyou ssome taa'u nintaai forr djinnerr. Arre jyou hungrrjy?"

T'yeellaa kicked off her heels, padding to the counter to place both her purse and the takeout on top. She ached to let her hair down and get out of her silks, but she'd make sure the old man was fully taken care of first.

[Quarles P. Dage]

T'yeellaa's voice was a welcome one, and peaking around the corner of the upper cabinet, Quarles gave a wide smile in greeting.

"Ah! Welcome back!"

He'd hold off on trying to pronounce whatever words she'd called the cartons, and instead chose to address the much more easy subject at hand.

"I hope your dinner was pleasing enough," he knew she'd mentioned not wanting to go, but forged ahead anyway. Sometimes that was the best thing. "... even though you weren't too terribly keen on being there."

His feet shifted backward, as he made room for her to join him in the kitchenette.

"But now you're back," his smile seemed to tick up even more in thanks, "... and like an angel from the gods of hunger you come bearing gifts."