Routine Maintenance [IC]

[Gizmo]

Trevor proved to be about as aware of his wardrobe as Erin, only thinking to toss his grease stained t-shirt in the garage's hamper when he saw her remove her coveralls, retrieving a pale blue button down top from a hanger in the tall cabinet nearby. Slipping his arms through the sleeves, the young man sauntered toward to the back of the garage where a doorway led into the rest of the mansion, long, thin fingers doing up the shirt as he walked. "Closest kitchen is this way," he explained as they stepped inside.

[Electra]

It wasn't like Erin purposely watched Trevor while he was changing shirts or anything, but it was hard not to at least notice when he stripped off his shirt practically right in front of her. And it was also impossible not to note the fact that the workouts were continuing to look really good on him, if she were going to be shallow enough to pay attention to that... Erin gave up and watched Trevor put on his shirt, then followed him into the house. "Closest kitchen?" she asked curiously. "How many kitchens do you have?" She slipped her hand into his as they walked, deciding to take his word for it that Travis would be making himself scarce.

[Gizmo]

"Most of them are really only kitchenettes," Trevor explained a little defensively, giving Erin's hand a small squeeze as she placed it in his. The hallway from the garage took them through the back of the main foyer to one the manor's larger rooms, prominently featuring an ornate fireplace with a small stack of roughly hewn wood already piled on the stone tiles nearby. Trevor led them first to another adjoining room, however, revealing a well stocked kitchen in the same classic styling as the rest of the home.

[Electra]

"Oh, well then," Erin deadpanned, craning her head to get a good look at the house as they walked through it. Not just for tactical reasons, though that was a big part of it. It was a very impressive house! She had a hard time imagining growing up in a house like this, which seemed a little more like a museum to her, but then she'd grown up in a cookie-cutter suburb where none of the houses were older than her parents.

The kitchen was a little different, brighter and warmer, as though it had seen the touch of a different hand in its design. It wasn't stocked very well though. Their search turned up a box of cocoa mix, but only a forlorn half-gone quart of milk that was past its sell-by date in the fridge. Further searching turned up a can of evaporated milk to serve as a substitute, and soon the cocoa was heating on the stove. Erin leaned against the counter and looked around. "So, lot of take-out for you guys?"

[Gizmo]

"Aheh," Trevor chuckled ruefully, rubbing the back of his shaggy black hair as he looked around the kitchen himself. "Not really, we're just, uh... not always great at remembering to get groceries. Or eat." He checked on the stove before offering Erin a weak smile. "Terrible secret: was raised by a single, elderly scientist. I have habits, Erin. Habits that could be categorized as bad." He shook his head with exaggerated sorrow. "Someone may have to try to fix me."

[Electra]

That got a snicker from Erin as she rummaged through the drawers for a stirring spoon. "Is it weird that hearing that kind of makes me feel better?" she asked rhetorically. Oddly enough, the utensils and silverware in the drawers were nearly organized, though they had the look of stuff that had been bought decades ago. A chemist and an engineer, she supposed, would be the type to respect tools even if they didn't know how to use them. "I mean, I've got all kinds of messed up weird issues, it's nice that you at least have bad habits."

She found a wooden spoon and a hot pad with a pattern of geese on it in a cupboard and began to stir the milk, studying the directions on the cocoa. "Who set up the kitchen?" she asked Trevor. "I mean, it obviously wasn't you or your grandpa, right?"

[Gizmo]

"Don't be silly. When you do it, they're endearing quirks," Trevor replied diplomatically, taking up Erin's spot leaning against the counter as she moved to see to the simmering milk. At her off-handed question, his small smile dimmed to his customary stoic expression. "Oh. No," the young man confirmed hesitantly. "That would have been Margery. She... basically ran the estate for a long time."

[Electra]

Erin looked up at the change in tone and caught Trevor's expression. "Oh," she said, curious at the sudden change, then steered wide to avoid the topic. She was the last person to push someone else on history they didn't want to talk about. "Must've been a long time ago, some of this stuff is really vintage. Still works fine, though." She dumped a couple of packets of cocoa powder into the milk, stirred. "How chocolatey do you like it?"

[Gizmo]

Trevor offered a small snort of amusement that sounded less forced than grateful. "From before I was born. House has been intact for a couple decades, now." Considering the statement, the young man paused before elaborating, "It's built on top of a secret hero base. Things happen." He knew that the mansion had been heavily repaired once after a fire and completely rebuilt at least once. "Very? I... think?" he answered her inquiry with a slightly furrowed brow. "Seem to have wandered out of my beverage comfort zone."

[Electra]

Erin grinned at him. "You don't need to go very far for that. If it doesn't start with a C and end with "offee," I know it's not your drink of choice. But you'll like this. Cocoa and hot cider were the first things I ever learned to make on a stove. I even learned how to froth milk just for cocoa. Cause it was Seattle, you know, but I wasn't old enough for real coffee." Her smile faded a little, grew more wistful, but didn't go away. She dumped in another packet of cocoa for good measure. "I don't guess you have any marshmallows."

(Missing Post)

As soon as Erin mentioned Seattle, Trevor rose from his position against the counter and stepped in behind her, gently wrapping his arms around her waist while being careful not so interfere with her work at the stove top. Leaning over her shoulder and past her auburn hair, he kissed her lightly just below her ear before walking over to browse through the cupboards. Pulling out a cardboard box, he observed the grinning mascot printed upon it. "Have cereal that's mostly marshmallows," he offered, holding it up for Erin to see. "Shaped like bats. Does cereal go bad?"

[Gizmo]

Trevor straightened from his propped position as soon as Erin mentioned Seattle, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, careful not to get in the way of her hands as she saw to the stove. Leaning forward and around her hair, he kissed her neck just below her left ear before moving to look through the kitchen's cupboards. "We have... cereal that is mostly marshmallows," he offered pulling out a box and examining the grinning mascot on the front. "Does that go bad? Little chocolate bats are pretty funny."

[Electra]

She chuckled, though the sound was a little breathless after the quick embrace. Having something else to think about did help drive off the melancholy, she had to admit. "No cereal," she told him firmly, making a face. "Those aren't even real marshmallows. They're like... fruit-flavored styrofoam peanut bites. And there'll be a date on the top or bottom that says when it's best before. After that, it's probably stale anyway, unless it hasn't been opened. If it's a sealed bag, a lot of times it'll be fine for ages after the code date. But it's still not good for cocoa." She ladled a bit of cocoa into a mug and tasted it, then nodded with satisfaction and divided out the rest. "Doesn't need marshmallows anyway. It's good."

[Gizmo]

"But they specifically say cocoa. They're not- hmn." Turning the box over to read the bottom, he winced slightly and replaced it back on the shelf. "Never mind. Trust your judgment on this one." Retrieving one of the mugs Erin had prepared, he offered her his free arm before heading back into the adjacent room. An ornate side table stood between the pair of large large, heavily cushioned chairs, each just large enough to place accommodating two people on the cozy side of comfortable. Setting his mug down, Trevor set about starting the fire, opening the metal grate with the squeak of aged ironwork.

[Electra]

With wood this dry and a raised grate, Erin could've laid and started a fire in under a minute, even without matches. She'd had a lot of experience under more adverse conditions. This was Trevor's house, though, and most guys liked messing around with fireplaces and grills and things like that. She tucked herself into one side of one of the big comfy chairs to watch, sipping her cocoa and enjoying the quiet old-house noises as the mansion settled around them.

[Gizmo]

Though certainly not the wilderness type, Trevor was more than capable of getting a happily flickering fire going with the proper resources. Putting enough wood into the fireplace so that he wouldn't have to get up to tend to it any time soon, he closed the grate and stood up. For a moment it looked like he was moving to sit in the unoccupied chair, but instead he pulled down the heavy, folded blanket lying over its back and carried it over to the seat Erin had already taken. Fitting himself into the remaining space, the dark haired youth tucked the afghan in over their laps before reclaiming his steaming mug.

[Electra]

Erin scooted over so they could both sit snuggled together in the chair, cradling her mug in both hands and watching the fire. "Yeah," she said contentedly, sipping her cocoa. "This is about perfect, I think." The setting was ideal, the scenario picturesque, and she would've been utterly comfortable except that being so close to Trevor in these circumstances was making her feel intensely uncomfortable in a way that was more exciting than unpleasant. Every inch of her skin that touched his felt more alive than the rest of her body, and she could feel her heart beginning to quicken the way it did when she was revving up for a fight. She took another sip of her cocoa and leaned back in the chair, trying to project nonchalance.

[Gizmo]

Even if Trevor hadn't come to know Erin's mannerisms so well, her attempt at casualness likely wouldn't have fooled him, if only because her reaction matched the quickening of his own pulse. He'd been getting better at reconciling the hotly emotional and coldly pragmatic parts of his thought process lately, but at the moment the latter seemed to have gone mysteriously silent. Buying himself a little time, he took a long pull from his mug, rolling the warm, velvety liquid around his mouth before swallowing. He didn't realize he'd slid his free hand over Erin's knee until he was turning to look at her. "Was going to apologize for lack of couch," he told her quietly, thickness in his throat exaggerating his stilted, fragmented sentence structure, "but m'not really sorry."

[Electra]

"It's a... it's a very nice chair," Erin managed, turning her head and angling her body to look at him. "Really comfortable, and big, and, yeah." Almost of its own volition, her free hand crept upward to cup his cheek, her fingertips brushing the edges of his dark and tousled hair. "Kinda thought you did it on purpose, though. It seems like a place this big would have a least one room with a fireplace and sofa." She grinned, though her eyes were a little wider than usual, her face a little more flushed.

[Gizmo]

Trevor's mouth dropped slightly ajar as he reached backward without looking to place his mug back on the sidetable, gaze fixed on Erin's eyes. His cheeks darkened, feeling warm against her fingers, the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "Lots of rooms," he agreed with some difficulty, sliding his newly free hand around her back and moving closer in the seat. "Lots of... of... forget where I was going with that..."

[Electra]

Erin reached past him to set her mug down as well, a movement that coincidentally brought them much closer together, chest to chest and all but nose to nose. "No idea," she murmured back, tossing caution to the wind for the moment with an option to haul it back in later. Closing that last breath of space between them, she kissed him, very lightly at first, with her eyes drifting closed as the kiss grew deeper. He tasted like chocolate, she noted distantly. It was nice.

[Gizmo]

Whether the heat of Erin's lips was lingering from the hot chocolate or generated from within, Trevor leaned into the kiss with the sincerity of a frozen man stepping in from the cold. As his toes clenched reflexively, a faint trail of smokey black mist spilled out from the bottom of the afghan, rolling outward along the hardwood floor like dry ice fog. After several long moments, he broke away just far enough to speak, though close enough that he could still feel her breath on his face. "Should... probably talk..." he managed, though he didn't sound particularly convinced himself.

[Electra]

Erin nodded. "We really should," she agreed wholeheartedly. It was a great idea, an extremely sensible idea. She still had so many reservations. But if they really talked, everything would stop, and who knew if it would get going again? So she kissed him again instead, and let things remain unspoken for now. It was just kissing, just cuddling and making out, everybody did that. That much at least was totally safe, and she really, really wanted to keep doing it.

[Gizmo]

If Trevor had any particularly compelling argument for continued discussion if evidently deserted him as he kissed Erin back, a low sound rumbling in the back of his throat while he shifted his position in the seat slightly to place himself in the corner of the chair's high back and curving sides, pulling Erin with him as the hand on her waist moved slowly up to her back. Tightening fingers bunched together the fabric of her sweatshirt as he attempted halfheartedly to call upon his usually characteristic ability to plan beyond the immediate moment.

[Electra]

Erin followed him over, her hair making a tangled curtain to frame her face as she leaned down and kissed him. In a way, the small and distant part of Erin still capable of rational thought was relieved that she could do this at all. Whenever she'd thought about kissing and making out and, you know, more, she'd always wondered a little bit if she'd be able to turn off the fighting reflexes that made her guard her throat and her back, the part that reacted badly to things and people getting too close. So far that didn't seem to be a problem at all, though it was true she was still dressed all the way down to her tennis shoes. She didn't mind the feeling of Trevor getting very close one little bit.

The errant rumination was enough, however, to remind her of a bigger worry, less easily dismissed. Even if her reflexes weren't telling her to fight, one wrong move at the wrong time, with her strength, could wind up really hurting Trevor. Her imagination could conjure up all sorts of scenarios, some more unlikely than others. Despite the fun she was having, opening the door to that one worry brought all the others crowding in, one on top of each other. She eased back, her face flushed and her breath coming quick, and returned to her own half of the chair. "Talking," she said again, her voice a little shaky.

[Gizmo]

Trevor took a quiet, shuddering breath that was equal part inhaling and clearing his throat. "Talking," he agreed thickly, retrieving both mugs of hot chocolate and taking a long sip from his, not entirely trusting himself with both hands free. The beverage helped with his suddenly dry mouth and bought him a few moments to collect his thoughts. "I, ah... I..." he began haltingly before squeezing his eyes shut in frustration and working his jaw back and forth. "Maybe you should start?"