He sighs, looking down at Reve, "You wanna get it, or me?" 

Reve looks at her undershirt and then his lack-of-shirt and smiles. "I got it." 

She bounces doorwards and opens it with bit of a silly flourish.

Here is Robin! His arms are indeed full, as he is holding several small plates over one arm like a waiter, while in the other he is holding a larger plate in his hand while his arm keeps a number of cans tucked against his chest. 

"Hey! I hear you called for a bajillion tiny tacos and some root beer? Also, help?"

One of the cans is slipping out from under his arm - which makes the whole operation somewhat precarious. He's trying to keep it in place by holding it with his knee. This is even more precarious, frankly. 

That's? A lot of stuff??

Reve, after a moment's hesitation, will attempt to retrieve the precariously-pinned soda cans first so Robin can regain use of his arm.

Robin attempts to carefully loosen his arm once he notices what she's going for. She can catch most of them easily, but one slips just a little too quick and falls towards the ground-

And then it's falling almost half as slowly, and then it pitches unexpectedly, as if caught on something, into Reve's outstretched hand.

"Careful!" She giggles.

"Phew! Nice catch! No kidding, that was the root beer!" 

So relieved, he reshuffles his load a bit and steps into the room, heading for the coffee table and freedom. 

Caine is still lounging back on the couch. He makes no move to assist. 

"Hey! No thank you or anything?" 

"Thank you." 

"Don't make that face at me you bastard!" 

"You can't be mad at him! He's literally eepy," Reve says with a goofy grin.

She sets down the sodas and cracks one open, taking a massive swig. "Ooooh, cane sugar..."

"Yeah they got the good stuff." He rocks on his feet for a moment, then claps, "Right! I asked when they were bringing out more quiches and the eggplant tomato ones and spinach ones are vegan," he points to the bigger plate, featuring two of each, "So I just got those, cause he wouldn't want the other ones anyway since the eggplant is only in those." 

Indeed, Caine has already reached for one of the eggplant quiches. 

"Ooooh, thank you!"

Reve, despite prior comments about fullness, will inhale a spinach mini quiche in a decidedly unladylike fashion!

When she finishes, she does her best to drape herself across Caine in a way that doesn't stop him from eating or her from drinking soda. (She has a little drop of backlash of her own, now, if he's paying attention.)

He is, but he can guess where it came from even without speeding up, so he doesn't comment. 

Also his mouth is full of eggplant quiche, which would complicate any commenting substantially. 

"Right! I'll leave you two be. Call me if you need anything, don't do anything I wouldn't do!" 

And he swans his way out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. 

Reve's backlash finishes clearing before she finishes her soda, and... hmmm...

"I might mess around with my power a bit? Clear a bit more of your backlog?" 

-he swallows his latest bite, "Yeah, sure. Want more room? Can move the coffee table." He's not sure what she's going to do, but it doesn't hurt to offer. 

"No need," she says, slightly distractedly.

Her backlash jumps up, then starts to drop, then - remains steady, despite the guiding? 

She grins. 

He can't see what she could be affecting.

"What are you doing?" 

instead of answering, Reve tosses her empty soda can towards the trash can!

It's absolutely going to overshoo-

-no, apparently it's actually going to pitch downward (a faintly shimmering patch of air above the trash intersecting the bottom of the soda can) and then fly in. 

The shimmering patch remains.

"That!", she chirps.

"Nice." 

He leans forward to grab a drink of his own, and proceeds to neck it in one go. 

Then he offers the empty can to her? 

She can repeat the trick!

... she's off by a bit laterally, this time; her backlash ticks up a bit as she applies a rapid series of small corrections.

Then it dips back down as all the fields disappear at once, and levels out again as one appears in arm's reach of them both, becoming more and then less visible as she matches accumulation and drain like she's directing the flow of water. 

She sighs happily and leans into him.

"That's a neat trick." More the backlash-matching than the shot, though the shot was neat too.

He grabs one tiny tacos plate along with another pair of drinks before settling back in, popping one for himself and sticking the other between two pillows next to them, within her reach. The tacos, of course, go into his mouth.