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There was a sense of anticipation in the air that Alex doesn't like one damned bit. It feels too familiar to her, too similar to the way that the world felt after Coralee and Warren, after they'd learned about the Axis Mundae. It had been days since she'd seen Strand, it feels like and Alex missed him. After their fight when she'd gotten back from Turkey, things had been better. Or at least they'd seem better to Alex once he'd gotten his anger out of his system, once he'd used Coralee's name and the nature of his relationship with her as a blunt weapon that was swung whenever the two of them had become too close.
But the thing of it was that Alex hadn't done anything this time. There'd been no fights, nothing that had caused him to pick up his toys and stomp off home as he had so many times before. There was nothing wrong other than the fact that Richard was gone. Her calls were sent to voicemail, her texts and emails went unanswered and even calling Ruby wasn't helpful in the slightest. Not that it ever really was when Alex needed to deal with his broad punk wall of an assistant.
So, she just tried to continue on as normal, as if he was just taking a break outside the room. Throwing herself into her work is second nature for Alex, but Nic had decreed that the studio needed to be empty by ten in order for Alex to get some sleep. It never worked for her of course--Alex just took the work home and spread it on her coffee table. A fresh brewed cup of coffee from her french press had been made and Alex was still sitting on the floor with her back to her couch as she went over everything that she had with a pen in her hand and a heavily filled notebook at her side.
Granted, due to the fact that she was home, Alex was wearing comfortable pajamas: an old and well-loved pnws shirt that had been hers since she’d been an intern (complete with a hole on the collar) and a pair of old boxer shorts that had never belonged to anyone but her—they fit her too well for that. With the heavy makeup that Alex normally wore to hide the dark circle under her eyes, they’re prominent and so is the smattering of freckles across her face. Her hair is still damp from the shower, and tied up into a messy bun at the base of her neck. With Nic gone in Russia and all of her friends having been pushed away due to work, Alex wasn’t expecting company. She definitely wasn’t expecting Richard considering she always went to his father’s house or came to the studio. Oh, she knows he knows where she lives (Alex has pointed out her apartment building more than once) but him coming to her seems entirely laughable at this point.
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His hands struggle with his shirt before he stares at her bed and strips off his shirt. It's one smooth motion. Underneath he's wearing an undershirt and he shivers.
Curling up in her blankets with his pants still off he grimaces.]
...You said you had something I could wear.
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[Alex just says it with a little bit of a grin, because it was honestly something that she'd done before well... Everything was so bad. It was something that had just seemed fun at the time, and something that she'd done in preparation for his birthday this year. Leaving him there for a moment, Alex just goes to her closet and she moves onto her toes to reach the top shelf of it with a stretch of her arm. There's a brown paper bag there, and it comes easy to her when she gives it a tug.
It's more awkward however, to offer it to him. Because well, this was the sort of thing that she'd done before the two of them were anywhere close to confessing their feelings for one another. When Alex had done it, it had felt intimate, maybe a bit too much but she'd rationalized it then as it being something else. After all, the shirt was one of the new designs they'd chosen for the show, just a simple blue with the logo for PNWS over the breast, rather than the more large Tapes logo (though she had considered the fanart one, but she knows he would have hated having his own self on his shirt. Even if it was a stylized version of both of them) and that could be excused as just merch.
The second item in the bag really couldn't be explained or excused so easily. It had been something that Alex had stumbled on entirely by accident when she was shopping for her dad one day. In the men's pajama section at Target around Halloween, Alex had found a pair of very comfortable looking flannel pajama bottoms that were covered in printed versions of ghosts. It was an impulse purchase entirely, and one that she thought might make him laugh if she ever got the guts up to give them to him. She hadn't, and Alex doesn't know if she would have if he didn't need something to wear right now. But what she'd hoping is that he would still be amused by them nonetheless.]
Here. I got these for you for your birthday but...
[Three months, their professional relationship, whatever else could be placed as an excuse here would have been fine with her. Alex doesn't want to explain any further as she just sheepishly waits for him to take the bag with her cheeks flaming.]
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...Ruby will be thrilled. She once came to my house to deliver files and claimed that I needed a new pair of pajama. She said mine were "old man pajamas".
[That had been an interesting early morning. Ruby had been nonplussed. Heedless of anyone else in the room, he tugged off his undershirt revealing well taken care of pectorals, abs, and muscles. He keeps fit - pulling on the shirt.
The pants make him pause before he looks at her.]
I'm sorry. I should...
I should change in the bathroom. That was very rude of me.
[He rises, moving toward the rest room.]
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[Alex isn't surprised by how well he keeps himself fit--she does know him after all, and she'd seen him when he was wearing flannel shirts over Yale T-shirts. It's not as if she's blind. Besides, when has Alex ever looked at him without some sort of unwavering intensity? Even when her expression is concern or care or anger, that intensity, the learning the bits of his face and cataloging it (along with his sighs, and the way that his voice shifts depending on his mood or when he's being intentionally evasive on something. The way that he clears his throat following an outright lie to her like the trappings of Richie Strand being an honest kid never left.) is still always present.
Besides, the man can wear the hell out of a suit. Everyone knows that.
And Alex herself would have offered to change while he was changing, but she'd been in pajamas for hours. On another night she might have changed into something that was less 'no one is going to see me in this so fuck it I do what I want' and something more 'this is very sexy for the first time someone sees me naked' but that's not where they are right now. And that's definitely okay with her. Alex has never had a problem taking things slowly, even if they'd been taking tiny steps for three years.
But she doesn't want him to be alone in the bathroom again, not the way that he'd came out of there. Alex doesn't want to say that to him either, so staying close to him seems like the best course of action.]
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[He looks amused, sliding off his pants. His boxers are dark blue and the pants fit over his front. After a few adjustments - his whole plan proved that he's endowed - he straightens and smiles sleepily.]
What do you think? these pants look great right?
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[Alex looks just as amused as he does, but she does keep her eyes locked with his own while he's removing his pants, just because. It's only when he asks does she actually lower them. The brown sparkles with amusement and she very obviously checks him (and the pajamas that she'd given him) out, but it's more for effect than anything else.
She's tired too. Alex is always tired these days.]
I think that the person who gave them to you has excellent taste in silly pajama bottoms. And you wear them very well.
[But then she goes to her made bed and tugs the decorative pillows off and leaves them on the chair next to it before she asks softly, because this is always awkward:]
Do you have a side of the bed that you prefer to sleep on? Because I think we both definitely could use some sleep right now and I want you to be comfortable.
[It doesn't matter what side he says, to Alex sleep isn't something that happens no matter how she sleeps, but it might be easier for him.]
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[He stares, touching the mattress softly. He presses down at it before looking at her and tentatively moving to the right side.]
I should warn you I snore a little.
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Well, I don't sleep and when I do apparently I chant the names of demons so.
[She belatedly wonders if he'd listened to the show at all over the past few months, and if he'd heard her say that. Heard Nic say that actually. Alex still doesn't know if she had been the one who was chanting the name of the demon. But she didn't want to fight Nic anymore so Alex had just accepted it as being herself.
Taking her glasses off and just setting them on the nightstand there, Alex shifts forward to face him, laying on her side.]
Do you want the lights on or off, Richard?
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There's nothing to be afraid of in the dark.
[Especially now. It's all light, it's all clearer in the dark now but Alex mentioning demons...It's like a punch to the gut and he gently squeezes her wrist.]
I'll hold you if you're concerned. I wouldn't...I'd like that.
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And then she slips closer to him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face into his chest for a moment. It's a cuddle of course, and the familiar scent of his cologne is still on his skin underneath the smell of the new cotton. Alex wants to hold him, and she wants to be held in return and that's all that there is too it.
Well, maybe not all there is to it, because she lifts her face and presses a little kiss to the corner of his lip before she just whispers:]
Good night, Richard.
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Pushes himself out of his mind. To roam around the building. Just to experience it. When the morning comes there is someone in his arms, which is like an anchor, locking him back into place. Into his body. She is home in more ways then one.]