(Untitled)

[g2modsquad]

There was dust here, layers of dirt coating the unused furniture, but some time ago, the dust melted away. The couches began to look new again. The kitchen cupboards replenished themselves and the plothole in the closet began spinning once more

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[ramblingbrat]

The puppy Tori got years ago is now a sizable dog, healthy and active, and she runs through the living room minutes before Tori arrives, exploring for a moment before curling up near the couch, happy enough to rest her head on her paws and relax for the moment.

She is followed, eventually, by her owner, who's shaking her head a little at being found here again, but content enough, for the moment, to flop down beside her dog, ruffling her behind the ears, and stretching out on the carpet to watch the ceiling and relax in turn.

[pendergastmon]

Ryan walks into the room as well, narrowing his eyes at the slightly off-kilter lamp, HE IS GOING TO KILL IT WITH FIRE!! raising an eyebrow upon seeing Tori. It's not the normal way people usually greet their significant others, but - eh, normal is overrated and non-existent when it comes to Ryan Pendergast.

"This place brings back memories," he says flatly, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.

[ramblingbrat]

She, of course, has a more conventional reaction, grinning broadly and sitting up upon seeing him. "I can see that," she replies wryly. "You're only using four words."

[pendergastmon]

He'll at least go over and sit down next to her, WOW, SUCH PROGRESS.

But then-- "Five."

Tori's most likely experienced in reading Ryan's reactions by now, and this one isn't even close to recalcitrant or moody. It's more amused; challenging, perhaps.

[ramblingbrat]

She wrinkles her nose at him, though she will scoot a bit closer, not looking quite as disgruntled as she'd like to make herself. "Well, we're getting there. I'll just have to keep counting."

[pendergastmon]

"It's useless as a gauge of my mood. If you asked me a yes or no question, my one-word answer would hardly be indicative of a bad mood." He says it all in the clipped, efficient tones of a lawyer, then gives her an expectant - almost smug - look. "Did you get that?"

[ramblingbrat]

"About thirty," she replies after a beat to gather her calculations (she, of course, started counting as soon as he spoken, and her actual estimate was closer to forty, but she figures that with Ryan, rounding down is always good). "I'm extremely impressed."

[pendergastmon]

"3 percent error," Ryan replies, without any particular emotion attached. "I'm also impressed."

And then - with a switch in conversation topic far back to the beginning, a hint of a faint smile, and a surprise twist that is all part of Ryan's Tactics of Confusion. "They weren't all bad, though."

[ramblingbrat]

"What, the memories?" (What? She's most certainly used to this by now.) "I should damn well hope so -- if you didn't remember them fondly after this long -- " She's smiling faintly, though, as she usually does during conversations like this.

[pendergastmon]

"No, the pancakes that I had for breakfast," he says, wryly. Sorry, Tori: you kind of gave him a loophole.

[ramblingbrat]

She rolls her eyes at that, leaning back against her elbows to give him a distinctly unimpressed look. "If all you can say about pancakes is that they're not all bad, dear, you're definitely eating the wrong pancakes."