trans_9 | Pudding. [Closed]

Even if it made Miku suffer heart palpitations, Steve always found the comfort of his house's usual clutter very relaxing. Even if it was just a sensorium projection, and even if he could warp it clean with a mere thought, it was kind of nice to see the laundry sitting half-folded on the couch, or his dad's coat having fallen off the coatrack, or the stack of dishes in the sink that Steve had at some point neglected to do, probably in favor of video games or riding his motorcycle around the block.

He was trying to tidy up a bit here and there, though, if only for Miku's sake. And if only because she had promised to make him pudding to make him feel better after another of his weekly shots. He still looked a bit pale and looking too closely at his arm would show sickly greenish veins near his elbow, but he had so far kept it covered with the sleeve of his flannel shirt.

"Sugar... sugar... here it is," he said, reaching up on a high shelf and pulling down a bag of sugar to hand down to Miku. That was his other job while she was cooking-- fetching stuff off the high shelves.

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Miku leaned into Steve, and patted Shadow's back affectionately, "Maybe just a little." She was quiet for a few minutes, "I'm glad that Dr. McNinja is back, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," he replied. "He was always one of the doctors I liked best... and he really saved our butts back there when that stupid Nightmare King was still around." McNinja was a good guy. Even if Steve had a sinking suspicious that "McNinja" could not possibly be a real name.

Miku touched her throat, and wrinkled her nose at the memory. "Yes, he did. I don't think we ever really thanked him for that, did we?" She distinctly remembered being to fearful to breathe at the time. And when things had finally cooled down, and the day was saved, nothing and nothing. Things went on as usual for the meatship. Still, Miku couldn't allow the past ungratefulness to go unfixed.

"I did for both of us," Steve reassured her, leaning his head against her shoulder. "Still... even if I didn't, I know he knows we were grateful."

McNinja was even more pleased to hear that Steve and Miku were still together. He didn't want to say that part, though, because Miku would clearly be embarrassed about it.

"You did? Oh good!" Still, she'd have to send him a bento, or something good and healthy that wasn't Stacy's grey goop. Miku played with Steve's hair as she thought.

"Don't let us fall asleep, Steve; I don't want to accidentally ruin the pudding because we were too comfortable to get up." Miku laughed a little bit and patted Shadow's side. "Have you given any thought to who you might be voting for for the council?"

He shrugged his shoulders, reaching down to pat Shadow as well. The dog was splayed out in a truly dramatic fashion, clearly enjoying all the love she was soaking up.

"Would it be bad if I said I don't really care?" he muttered. "All those guys are basically the same to me. I don't know any of them."

"A little obtuse of you, maybe, but not bad. I don't really know anyone this go around either." Miku stretched her legs out, and wiggled her toes in her pink stockings. "I guess I'll just read what they have to say and make a good decision based on that. It's important to make your voice known, Steve."

Steve grumbled under his breath.

"I don't need my voice known. Nobody listens to it anyway." Ah, voting apathy.

"I listen. And I bet other people would too." Miku sighed at him and patted Shadow, so that she could get up to check on the pudding. "You just have to say what you want to be heard."

"Nobody wants to hear what I have to say, though," he pointed out, and beginning to feel like a huge cynical jerk, decided he didn't really want to elaborate on that. He always tried to put on a more sunshiney outlook for Miku, even if he didn't believe any of it at all anymore. No matter how much he'd like to.

"I don't know. I don't need anyone to hear my opinions anyway. I'm just a face in the crowd and I kind of like it that way."

"Oh," Miku replied, moving towards the kitchen. "I see." It was probably the least expressive phrase in Miku's lexicon. She decided that she didn't like it, but at least understood wanting to be part of the mob and not stand out.

She'd never liked standing out much, either. But Steve wasn't here, and he was smart and could even be funny when he was relaxed enough. It just seemed a shame that he preferred anonymity. Miku watched the pudding, to make sure it wouldn't boil over, and started up on the remaining dishes in the sink.

He knew when she was soft-spoken like that, it was her accepting something quietly that she didn't like. Steve was of the theory that Miku would never argue with him about anything that she didn't have to, so her resigned acceptance of things was her way of avoiding putting him on the spot.

"If you're anonymous, then you have more peace, you know?" he said. "You're not getting called on all the time to do things. We can do whatever we like because we're not in the spotlight."

And if he was a face in the crowd, nobody would target him or try to use him. That alone was worth it to Steve.

"But then you also have to accept something you don't agree with, too," said the Master Deflector and Most Passive of the Passives. "So if something is 'stupid' or you 'dislike' it, you have to go along with it anyway, because you didn't say anything." There it was, that's what had bothered her.

"At least if you say something, then they know, don't they?"

"Yeah... I guess," Steve muttered. "But that doesn't mean they'll listen anyway."

He grabbed a dish towel to start helping her dry the rest of them, not really wanting to point out that there was a dishwasher right below her. Or that they could just blink the dishes out of existence in here. "I guess you're right," he sighed. "I don't know."

Oh, she'd seen the dishwasher -- and then promptly ignored it. Rei had once bought a dishwasher, too, thinking to make Miku's clean up time easier.

Miku briefly recalled the, 'thank you, but no thank you' conversation afterward. She was silent for a moment, and then leaned her head on his shoulder. The pudding was done and so she borrowed the end of Steve's dishtowel for a moment, and started the work of pulling them out of the hot water carefully.

"I don't think it's a question of who is right or wrong, though. I think..." Miku trailed off and let the sensoriums speed-chill the pudding so she could carefully loosen it from sides and put it on the little serving plates. "Maybe it's just a matter of saying your opinion? I'm not sure what I'm saying now." She sighed and smiled at him.

Pudding. [Closed]

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