Nolan Home for Wayward Refugees, 33 Apocalypse, Sunday Late Morning

[hotceltogoth]

Ronan blearily wandered downstairs and towards the kitchen, flicking the on-switch on the coffee pot before collapsing onto a stool at the counter. Give him a few moments, and there'll be breakfast cooking, though.

First, coffee. All the coffee. Remind Ronan to never go on errantry again, okay? No? Fine, just give him a few days to recover first.

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[icecoldfrost]

Emma hadn't been able to make it in yesterday for graduation due to the Portalocity price hike - fucking assholes - but she was here today, her battered old duffle from when she first arrived at Fandom over her shoulder as she trudged up Ronan's sidewalk.

Red-eye portals sucked.

Exhausted, she poked at his brain at the same time she rang the bell. "Dear God, darling, tell me you have coffee."

[hotceltogoth]

"And breakfast," he replied, smiling despite the fatigue. "Lots and lots of breakfast. How do you want your eggs?"

Other than, y'know, fattening.

[icecoldfrost]

"Scrambled, and if you make a dirty joke out of that I will kill you with my brain," Emma informed him cheerfully as she tossed her bag just inside the door and made her way to him. "Kiss kiss, darling. Did you miss me?"

[hotceltogoth]

Ronan laughed. "Always, love," he replied, grinning. He cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started scrambling them, tossing in some paprika and a little basil. "Whole wheat bagel, cinnamon raisin, or cheddar jalapeno?"

[... Making myself hungry, dammit.]

[icecoldfrost]

"With eggs? Cheddar jalapeno, of course," she answered, slinging an arm around his waist in a half-hug as to not get in the way of the cooking. "You look like utter shit. Long week?"

[hotceltogoth]

Aaha. Oh, Powers. "Errantry," Ronan explained. "I've been on twelve different planets in the last five days, and I am not as young as I used to be."

He set the spatula aside and turned into the hug, slinging an arm around Emma's shoulders. "It wasn't... bad, exactly. Friend of mine needed some help, and being wizards, it means that things just kinda spiraled out from there. No one died or anything, we were just busy."

[icecoldfrost]

"What does it say about us, darling, that 'no one died' is a required disclaimer when talking about a trip?" Emma mused. "Really? Twelve planets? Weren't there other wizards to split the work with?"

[hotceltogoth]

Ronan shook his head. "Not with the right skill-set," he explained. "Healing and combat wizardry? Most people who work with one never deal with the other beyond the basics. Besides, I've got contacts on all the planets in question; hell, I worked on ten of them, and the other two I partied on for... two or three weeks apiece? Dairine needed help, and I was in a position to give it, so..."

He shrugged. This was what he did, Emma. You might even understand it someday.

[icecoldfrost]

"This is why science will always be better than magic," Emma informed him loftily. "You wizards and witches are just messy; circumventing half the concepts of the universe, and then holding to strange and obscure by-laws for the rest of it."

"At least science makes sense."

[hotceltogoth]

Ronan snorted. "I'll have to walk you through one of my spells at some point," he retorted. "The rules may be a little different, but trust me, they're there.

"Although, admittedly, my kind of magic is different than a lot of people's."