Room 332, Saturday Evening

[swipedthatfoot]

Claire had never in her life been so grateful to have laundry to put away as she was on Saturday. She even neatly stacked her shirts instead of just shoving them in a drawer, that's how grateful she was

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[not_a_mused]

Cal wondered if anyone was nearly as grateful as he was. He had, after all, miraculously been able to dance a delicate line of having a few flimsy shirts and pants left even yesterday when things were disappearing right off people. Clearly, with his luck, that meant that things were building up to a disaster for tonight.

But, clearly, shockingly, the crisis seemed averted. Cal was still on his toes, though, and grateful for the fact that dressing layers was business as usual for him, anyway.

And he had the DVDs carefully held so that no one could read the titles if they passed him in the hallway. Hum hum.

He went to knock on Claire's door.

[swipedthatfoot]

Claire bounced up and went to answer it, grinning. "Hey!" she greeted, opening the door wider. "Look, I'm dressed like a normal human being."

[not_a_mused]

"Well, that's debatable," Cal said, without really thinking; he knew it was just one of those things he said without thinking because he knew he actually liked how Claire dressed a lot. So he made sure to grin so she could tell it was just a joke. "All my clothes are back, too."

[swipedthatfoot]

Claire was alarmed for a second until she noticed that grin, and glanced down at her long-sleeved teal t-shirt and burgundy cords. "Heh, shut up, I look good," she told him with a grin. "You look good too."

You know. Just in case he wondered.