Getting both of them out of the New Year's Party turns out to be easier than Claudia expects it to be. Walking out hand in hand with Sue, or better yet, being carried in her arms, are sadly both non-options. Their relationship is a secret after all. Ivy already has their eye on Sue after the stunt with Yuki, hooded and disinterested as it is. And neither of them wants to find out what might happen if their attention is drawn a little more fully to what exactly they do in their spare time together.
Office matters and their own private worries make up the rest of the reasons, forming a tangle of petty obstacles that, again, neither of them wants to find out about if they can help it. And so, in order to have each other to themselves from time to time, a certain circumspect approach is usually required.
Tonight's approach is a blunt one that only took Claudia an hour to put together. Both of them are attending an inter-service New Year's party meant to reinforce the links between other companies that keep theirs running, and give everyone an excuse to get drunk into the bargain. Claudia is there in the dress she keeps on-hand for specific missions, and Sue is in her loose-hair tied up in a ponytail, the usual greatcoat replaced by a black suit that looks amazing on her.
Maintaining distance is key for the early parts of the night. Claudia limits herself to the few glances she can sneak through the crowd, every morsel keeping her urge to be next to Sue, to hear her, to take her hand, in check for a little longer. A few times, their eyes meet across the room, and Sue's eyes flicker with what Claudia knows is the exact same feeling.
It's not until close to midnight that Claudia can make her move. Diplomacy done, and inter-departmental wheels greased, Claudia adjusts the course of her orbit. She moves through the crowd towards Sue, ducking and weaving as gracefully as she can between the guests, impatience lending a touch of haste to her approach.
Sue spots her drawing close. The earlier flash of longing gives way to anticipation. One of the guests who's managed to get a hold of her is talking, a smile on their face, clearly in the middle of a story, but Sue cuts them off and excuses herself.
Claudia's heart swells. The night had certainly been enjoyable enough so far. Good food, good drink, and even a few colleagues from other services she'd gotten to know and actually like.
But Sue is the prize, her reason for being here. And now, she has her.
And then she trips.
Claudia's heart lurches as she falls forward. Her glass tumbles from her hand, the world a blur, until the next moment it very painfully isn't. Cries of alarm ripple out around her. Claudia blinks and rolls her head around. That part of her doesn't hurt at least, but there's a pressure on her shoulders. She looks around, glad the world is limited to a wobble rather than a blur, and finds...
Sue's hands are the ones on her shoulders. The Sorcerer crouches next to her, barely flustered, but Claudia remembers how much distance there was left between them. Sue must have almost sprinted to catch her.
The cries of alarm have changed into murmurs of appreciation now. A few guests even clap, and Claudia isn't sure if she wants to kick them or join in. The spike of jealousy vanishes the very next moment when Sue opens her mouth to talk.
“Are you okay? That was a nasty fall you almost had.”
Claudia nearly, nearly forgets what she has to do next. She wants to thank Sue on reflex, to lean in and kiss her on the cheek. But they're in public, and there's a plan, so she's forced to do neither of those things.
Instead, she giggles as loud and as drunkenly as she can.
“Of course,” she says, slurring her words just like Vantalina always does when drunk. “I'm fine, just fine. Just a little...slip, or trip or something. I can still walk just fine, don't you worry, just get me up and I can...walk fine.”
All things considered, it's a bit of a forced performance, but the fact that she is a little drunk manages to lend it an air of authenticity. There are a few hushed remarks made by the onlookers, but nobody's really judging her. Others have already been carried out by their friends and colleagues in various states of inebriation. She's just another casualty of the night.
Which is exactly the point.
Sue's acting is a lot better than hers. She looks around at the nearby crowd, searching for would-be-friends of hers to assist, but no-one else is here.
“Do you have anyone here who can take you back to your room?” Sue asks.
“Pft,” Claudia snorts. “No. And why would I want to go back there? I'm fine, just get me up and I'll-.”
“You're not fine,” Sue declares. “You need to go somewhere and rest.” She looks around again. “Does anyone here know this woman's room number?”
No-one does, of course. Sue closes her eyes and sighs in resignation.
“Alright, fine,” Sue says under her breath. Claudia is about to interrupt again and keep playing her part, but Sue's ahead of her. In one fluid motion Sue stands up, tucking one hand under Claudia's arm and pulling her up too.
Once she's steady, Sue begins to walk her towards the nearest exit. “What's your room number?” Sue asks.
“F-four-oh-two,” Claudia mumbles, flustered both from the alcohol and the attention. She'd known it was coming, but the reality is more embarrassing than she'd expected. Everyone they pass turns to look at them, and it's all she can do to play her part and hobble along.
The elevator being empty is an overwhelming relief. Claudia almost punches the 'close door' button until it kicks in to avoid anyone getting in and delaying the moment.
When the doors close, Claudia leans against the wall and lets out a sigh of relief.
“Well, that was more stressful than I thought it was going to be.”
Sue gives her a sidelong look. “Did you really have to trip and fall in front of me?”
“Probably not, no,” Claudia concedes. “But it was the best excuse I could think of for you to take me to my room without anyone getting suspicious. Besides, it didn't hurt. You caught me before I hit the flo-.”
Pain jolts up her leg mid-sentence and Claudia gasps in surprise. Sue closes in, concern flashing in her eyes, and Claudia flashes her a grin.
“It's fine,” she says, trying not to grit her teeth. “Fine. Just...think I sprained it a bit.”
It makes her want to laugh how the pretend-fall has turned out to be a real one. The way Sue's gaze changes from 'genuine concern' to 'I told you so and am worried now' curtails that feeling though.
“Sue, I'm fine,” she says. When that doesn't work she leans away from the wall and drapes her arm over Sue's shoulder, leaning in for a quick kiss before gazing into the purple-pink eyes of her protector. “I'd tell you if I wasn't, really. Now, shall we head to my room?”
The flush in Sue's cheeks stirs the urge to tease her more, but the elevator ding interrupts them again. Claudia rolls her eyes and leans against Sue again. Everything is always getting in the way of their time alone together, and she's gotten disappointingly used to it. Tonight is no different.
For now.
With everyone downstairs for the party, there's nobody to accost them in the hallways, so Claudia leans a little more fully against Sue than necessary. A curious glance is the only response Sue gives, before her bearing changes from 'professional' to 'intimate', and her hold on Claudia softens into something more familiar.
They open the door to the room quickly anyway, and close it behind them just as fast. Claudia lets out a breath she didn't realise she was holding in, and lets her head rest completely against Sue's shoulder.
Her girlfriend's smell is different than usual. It's not the hard-earned, hard-worn odour of sweat and blood with a hint of tea that usually hangs around her; the aroma of a sorcerer and a guardian who never rests, but has a hint of more beneath the surface. It's an unusually clean smell tonight. Nothing else, and nothing more, than just the natural existence of Sue.
The moment of bliss is interrupted by Sue moving. Claudia tilts her head up to look at her girlfriend and finds a familiar evaluating look in her eye that suggests a plan.
“What?” Claudia asks. “Are you wondering about the fastest way to get me out of this dress?”
Sue, disappointingly, doesn't rise to the bait-slash-offer.
“No,” she says bluntly. “You need to rest. That injury won't heal on its own.”
Claudia snorts in amusement. “Sue, it's just a sprain, I'll be fine. Help me over to the bed and I can easily avoid putting any weight on it. And then,” Claudia places a hand over Sue's stomach, “we can celebrate the New Year with just the two of us, alone. How does that sound~?”
Claudia is not afraid to admit when her plans, such as they are, have gone wrong.
When she first came up with the plan for them to be alone for tonight, there was a second half of it that she deliberately kept to herself. It involved taking a bath, enlisting Sue to help undress and wash her for it, and then eventually was meant to evolve into both of them tangled up together in the water furiously making out and doing...other things to each other.
Confined to the room's main bed, her dress forcibly exchanged for the pyjamas she'd brought to let her stay overnight, and her sprained-foot held up in the air by pillows and with an ice-bag tied in place, Claudia is forced to admit that her second-half of the plan has absolutely failed to happen.
Claudia slumps her head back against the wall and grumbles to herself. It's not that she's feeling particularly devastated about how things have turned out. Having Sue fuss over her and take charge is a welcome turn of events. She just wishes it had happened literally any other time than right now.
At least Sue hasn't changed out of her evening-wear. Claudia makes do with the sight of that for now. Her girlfriend moves about the room, gathering up the hotel snacks and making her a cup of tea with the kettle that came with the room.
It's a pleasingly domestic kind of moment. If Claudia closes her eyes and shoves her thoughts to one side, she can almost imagine they're a couple that's spending New Year's eve together, recovering after a fall downstairs and retreating to fawn over each other. No one to worry about. Just her, and Sue.
“Here, Claudia, drink this.”
The all-too-brief daydream is interrupted by the hot cup of tea Sue's holding out to her. Claudia accepts it graciously and blows on it to cool it down.
“Thank you, Sue.”
Her girlfriend sits on the edge of the bed and flicks a glance at her propped-up foot.
“How does it feel? Any lingering pain, or uncomfortable-ness?”
“I'm perfect, Sue,” Claudia says warmly. “Barring the sprain I mean. You've taken better care of me than most people would have.”
It might just be her imagination, but Claudia could swear Sue's cheeks turn a bit brighter at that.
“First aid like this is nothing,” she says. “The important thing is you feeling better in the morning.”
“Well...” Claudia trails off as she sips her tea. “There is something that feels like it's missing.”
Sue jumps to attention immediately. Claudia tries not to chuckle at how professional and upright her girlfriend is and pats the empty space next to her.
“I'd really feel a lot better if you'd join me here.”
Sue takes a deep breath. “Of course,” she replies. “I should have realised.”
Claudia lets the enigmatic comment be and watches Sue circle around the bed. The Sinner hesitates on the other side, as if not sure that what she's doing is right. Claudia reaches out to her, cup of tea ensconced in her other hand, and puts on her best puppy-dog eyes.
“Sue, I'm sick and injured. And I really think I'd heal a lot quicker if I had a beautiful, gallant woman like you lying next to me in my bed.” Claudia tilts her head up pitifully. “Please?”
Sue clears her throat and it's immediately clear that she's cracked. The bed creaks as the she lowers herself onto it. Claudia waits for her to finish and leans over, resting her head on Sue's shoulder again, far more comfortably than before, and goes back to her tea.
“My hero,” she coos.
“I'm not a...” Sue trails off again. Yielding to her fate, Sue leans her head against Claudia's and tries to relax into the bedding.
Claudia knows she's asking a lot of Sue right now. Affectionate and loving as her girlfriend is, she's never been comfortable with displays like this, even when they're alone. Nothing feels stilted, but there's an unease, an awkwardness, below everything past a certain level. Claudia can guess as to why that is, but Sue hasn't felt comfortable elaborating, and so she's never asked. Prying and reckless and nosy as she is, Claudia understands some boundaries are for other people to cross, not her.
“It'll be New Years soon,” Claudia says, wanting to break the atmosphere a little.
“Will it?” Sue lifts her wrist and glances at her watch. “Hm. Five minutes to go.” Sue glances at her wrist this time. “How did you know?”
Claudia shrugs. “Lucky guess. I figured it was close to it but not quite. If it was, the whole building would hear the countdown they're going to do downstairs.”
“I see,” Sue says. “I should thank you, actually. For getting me out of the party. Big social events like that are...daunting, for me. All those people you don't know, asking you for things or chasing after you. How do you manage to cope?”
“Practice, mostly, and a few tricks to deflect the worst of the crowd,” Claudia says. “You should be proud, actually. You handled yourself quite well down there. And,” Claudia's voice turns teasing, “I noticed you were a hit with quite a few people. Should I be getting worried someone's going to try and steal you away from me?”
“No,” Sue says, an unexpected hard edge to her voice. “They may have been pleasant on the outside, but I could never see myself ending up with one of them.” Sue turns her head, her voice softening, and kisses Claudia's brow. “And besides, I've already got you. Nobody else even comes close.”
Now it's Claudia's turn to blush. She distracts herself by drinking more tea, which lasts until she finishes the last dregs from the bottom. She places it on the night-stand next to the bed and relaxes, the warm feeling of Sue next to her blending together with the alcohol and how much food she'd eaten to form a heady sense of tiredness.
“Do you want another cup?” Sue asks.
“Mmm, no thanks,” Claudia mumbles. “I'm good. And I don't want you to move right now. I'd fall right over, and I want to stay like this for a while longer.”
“Okay,” Sue whispers with such affection that Claudia's heart almost skips a beat. She nuzzles against Sue's shoulder some more in reply, wanting to convey her feelings without breaking the silence.
The moment is a little ruined when loud explosions come from outside. Claudia startles, her tired mind immediately assuming it's some sort of attack, or the ducks again, but Sue's gentle hold keeps her from rolling out of bed and hobbling towards the door.
“It's nothing,” Sue says. “Just the fireworks outside. The New Year's here.”
“Oh,” Claudia says dumbly. She resumes her position next to her girlfriend, the brief adrenaline dump into her system burning off rapidly, the fireworks beating out an uneven temper outside whilst next to her, Sue's heart follows a calm, constant beat.
Her plan has gone astray, and the evening isn't what she wanted it to be. But what she has is still good. And what she has is Sue.
“Happy New Year, Sue.”
“Happy New Year, Claudia.”