[closed] another arrival!

[cactusy]

Who: the Doctor, Root, Sameen Shaw
What: Shaw brings a girl home for dinner
When: early May
Where: the Doctor's Lakeside cabin

"It's up there," Shaw tells Root, jerking her chin at the snow-covered cabin that's just starting to become visible through the trees ahead. It's been a long walk, even with the overnight in the mines, and she's flagging. The only thing stopping her from wanting a rest is pure stubbornness... and the knowledge that moving at least keeps them a little warmer than they would be otherwise.

"Bear, hier," she calls out; it's been a bit since they've seen him, and while she trusts him to make good judgements, she doesn't want him roaming too far. That turns out not to be an issue: the dog comes rocketing out of the underbrush, a dead rabbit in his mouth.

"Huh." She raises an eyebrow at Root. "Guess we're bringing dinner."

Comments

[computation]

"Only polite if I'm going to be asking him for your hand in marriage," Root says as a joke, though it lands a bit flat with the way she's breathing hard from trip. It does feel like she's meeting Shaw's dad with all the fanfare, though she knows that backstory and can't imagine Shaw finding a new father figure for real.

Root sorely longs for a nice flat stretch of pavement, but at least Bear is having the time of his life showing them the dead rabbit, pushing it at them insistently.

"For me? You shouldn't have."

Maybe Bear has another one in him if she holds this one. She's already gross enough, why not? She takes the dead rabbit from Bear and pauses to unwind the threadbare scarf she'd scavenged from around her neck, making it into a quick sling for the corpse. This way she doesn't have to carry it around her neck and smell the innards and feces from uncleaned death stink.

[cactusy]

"The Doctor's younger than you are," Shaw protests at the father-figure implication, wrinkling her nose in a way that's every bit as serious as Root's comment (which is to say, not at all). This is actually not even remotely true, but she doesn't know all the intel about how he's an ageless alien. She bumps her shoulder lightly against Root's, waiting until she's secured the rabbit before starting to walk again.

"Can we hide it in the snow and cook it later? I'm beat."

[computation]

Younger than she is, but not younger than Shaw? So somewhere in there? Root files that away and saves further harassment about Shaw having a potential father-figure for later, when they aren't out in the freezing cold drooping from fatigue.

"I'll take care of it, honey-bun. I'll just field dress it out here so the blood and guts doesn't attract predators to your friend's house."

Root isn't all that experienced at preparing kills for cooking, but she's gotten a crash course in it over the last few days and she did come with her trusty knife. It wasn't that hard to figure out, considering she isn't squeamish at all. But it does result in a morbid pile of gore left behind that is very enticing to wolves, and the wind can carry the smell a mile off, probably.

[cactusy]

"What, you mean right now?"

Shaw is the 'buck up and deal with it' type; she is not at all the type to say I'm exhausted and we're almost there; I'd rather go hungry than stop and field-dress a dumb rabbit. But that is still her general vibe as she looks longingly at the cabin up ahead.

[computation]

"Yes, right now."

Root is not so much the deal with it type as she is the go nonstop until she passes out type. It's like there's no internal regulation, no moment where she naturally thinks she should hit pause and take a break. Her better sense will eventually prevail -- she knows how to take care of herself; she's practical if nothing else -- but until she hits that point, she has an inexhaustible well of energy.

"You go on ahead," she suggests, looking around for a spot off to the side to take care of it. She's not too comfortable being out here alone and preoccupied without Bear keeping watch when she only has hearing in one ear. "Me and Bear will be right behind you. You can get the fire started."

It's a rational division of labor, which she thinks Shaw is more likely to accept.

[cactusy]

Shaw grumbles wordlessly under her breath, but it's not an actual protest, which means that it's not a no. If the Doctor is in, he'll likely already have a fire going, and if he's not, then she's at the point where she can pretty much get one started in her sleep. And so, pushing aside the vague and paranoid worry that if she lets Root out of her sight she'll disappear into the ether, Shaw turns to head for the cabin solo.

When Root and Bear eventually get there, they'll find Shaw asleep on the couch under a mound of blankets, her shoes and parka by the door. The fireplace is lit, and no one else is home.

[computation]

Root doesn't take it for granted that Shaw is willing to let her handle things and go on ahead and rest with a thinly veiled excuse for productivity. She knows this is a privilege, and she feels warmed by it, smiling to herself as she guts the rabbit and pulls out the entrails and drains the blood. Her knife is a little awkward but gaining confidence as she skins the corpse, Bear panting heavily in satisfaction nearby as he keeps watch. Practice makes perfect, and she's had some practice already and is going to get plenty more.

She stands, leaving the refuse behind, and carries the skinned rabbit tied to a stick to avoid making a mess as she hikes her way up toward the cabin. There's no trace of self-consciousness as she pushes the door open, letting Bear in first, who quickly goes up to the sleeping Shaw and snuffles at her face to check on her.

Root plans to cook the rabbit over the fireplace and then wake Shaw to share in the food, so she takes a moment to place the carcass in position to roast before she starts peeling off her layers and her snowy boots, shaking them outside and making herself at home.

[cactusy]

When they come in, Shaw makes no move to get up - but a hand unearths itself from the blankets, rubbing at Bear's ears. She shifts closer to the back of the couch, giving him room to jump up with her, but good guard dog that he is, he needs to survey the rest of the cabin first. Excuse him, girlies. He'll be back when his duty is done.

[computation]

Root leaves some damp clothes stretched out over a corner of the dining table and the backs of the chairs, her boots by the door, and walks over to where Shaw is cuddled up dozing in her socked feet. The wool socks are warm but wearing thin at the soles, so she's wearing two pairs, different colors peaking through the holes.

She kneels down in front of the couch and smiles faintly at her huddled form.

"You have been tired lately, haven't you? Good thing I'm here." She doesn't want to think about how hard Shaw would be pushing herself alone, without reliable backup to handle things sometimes.

[cactusy]

Shaw grumbles sourly, her words muffled by the blankets, but they sound something like I could still kick your ass if I had to. She does not kick Root's ass, or even get up, but the hand that had been petting Bear feels around until it lands on Root's wrist.

[thedreamer]

No matter the many thoughts others might have running through their heads, the Doctor's mind is generally filled with at least twice that many, all colliding together in a frenetic pace that suits him just fine. It can mean, though, that he misses the little details when he's floating off in the bigger things. But even for him, it would be hard to miss what's been left behind outside of the blood and guts of an evidently small creature. So he has company. Excellent!

As he often does, no matter where he is, the Doctor comes into the cabin like a whirlwind. There's nothing cautious or gentle in his entrance; no, no, only the grand stuff for him! He, of course, is reasonably sure who will be on the other side of the door — but he doesn't mind a good surprise, either.

"Hello! I haven't missed anything, have I?"

What are pleasantries, really, jump right in!

"Oh good, good, extra special hello to you — I'm the Doctor!" he smiles at Root, offering his hand as he pulls it out of a warm glove. This is all very normal for him, like they were expected. He'll bid Bear a warm hello in a moment, too.

[computation]

Root is a bit of a chaotic whirlwind herself, and though she's a little disappointed to have her tender moment with Shaw interrupted, she doesn't show it as she pulls her hand back and stands up to face the door. She's ready to shake hands when the Doctor is; the first sound of an approach cued her to detach, prepared for a threat if necessary.

But instead she's shaking hands with a somewhat coy smile of her own, more sincere than she typically offers at first meeting. An oddball, but not her type, and someone Shaw likes -- and trusts enough to fall asleep on his couch. She's already predisposed to like this person.

"I'm Root. Shaw told me we could crash your place, and I thought it was polite to prepare dinner."

It amuses her to play along like this is a normal encounter, all very basic Earth manners; she's meeting Shaw's friend and she'd come along with a housewarming gift. Not like they're in a frozen mythical dimension that doesn't obey the laws of death or reality, and she propped a skinned rabbit over a fireplace as her offering. How very medieval.

[cactusy]

"We just got in, and I'm exhuasted," grumps Shaw, though she does sit up, irritably smoothing out her mussed-up hair. "This is Root; that's Bear."

She points at them each in turn, as Bear trots into the room to investigate the newcomer. He takes his cues from his people, so rather than greeting the Doctor like a potential threat, the shepherd approaches with his ears up and his tail wagging as Shaw continues her bare-bones introductions.

"They're teammates from home."

The exact nature of her connection to Root isn't a secret, but Shaw usually defaults to the easiest, most straight-forward explanation in any given scenario. And they are her teammates, Root and the dog both.