“I’ll head out of the tent, come and grab me when you’re done.”  Suiting deeds to words, Tim wanders back out of the tent. Surely there’s - aha.  One DRT lawnchair. Tim flops into the chair and patiently awaits his partner.

Sara arrives about five minutes later, hair up in a ponytail and her backup clothing of lounge pants and midriff-baring tanktop on. She spots him swiftly and makes her way over to climb into his lap and resume guiding. 

"If my hair smells of crabs do not tell me," she mutters into his neck. 

She’s scooped and squished against him.  Tim may not be incredibly experienced with interpersonal relationships, but.  Even he’s smart enough for this one.

He presses his nose against Sara’s scalp.  “Just shampoo.  How easy is taking care of that much hair?”

Yesss guiding snuggle.

"It's okay. It takes longer, but if you do it right it will not get many tangles. It takes me about ten minutes to wash and condition. Usually." 

“That’s not as bad as I’d been thinking.”  He readjusts her position to be a little easier on him.  “You ready to hit the temp silo, or are you too comfy here?”

"I could move. Maybe." Technically. 

He huffs a little laugh.  “I didn’t ask if you could move.  You carried me, I can take my turn.  As long as you don’t suddenly become allergic to guiding.  Just gotta get you into a taxi.”

"Hmmmm... eekoshi. Let's get out of crab range."

Then Tim will order a taxi and cuddle for a few more minutes while waiting for it.  Then he’ll carry his partner to the taxi.  He’s definitely cheating, this time.

That's fine, they're guiding through it. 

The temp silo is just outside Boston, in one of the suburbs that was built in the past decade. It just looks like another house, from a distance, aside from a taller fence to offer more privacy.

Up close, it's clearly better reinforced, and differently laid out, than the rest of the houses in this neighborhood. 

Inside, one notices that the walls are actually quite thick.  The furniture is sturdy and comfy and covered with easily-cleaned covers.  There are several bedrooms with rather large beds, a quite large hot tub on the  covered patio out back.  There's...technically a kitchen, but it's not really laid out for cooking, more for storing food.  It is stocked with a few staples, but it's really just the basics.

Timothy exits his autotaxi and makes a delivery of 1(one) Menhir.  She can go on a sofa.  And then he can go on the sofa as well, it has been a day.

He heaves a heavy sigh.  "Fucking crabs."

"Mhm." She isn't even using her endurance. She is happy to be squished. 

Tim is not using his power, either.  Tim is using his absolutely nothing.  His brain and body are mush.  He's sprawled out across the couch, his chest on Sara's legs and his head is laid on her stomach.  He's too tired and separately backlashed to even be self-conscious about it.

Maybe he's a little dozy, but he's also hungry...but dozy...

"I am ordering crab legs." 

She reaches around to grab her phone out of her pocket, and opens up a delivery app. 

"Do you want some?"

"That's too much effort for me, and I've already cracked my fair share of crab legs today.  Could you get me a crab roll, and if there's someplace around here that does protein shakes, a banana peanut butter one?"

"Mhm. We have a good part of Boston here." She tracks down some good options and puts in her order. "Just crab rolls? Here," she passes the phone to him to make more selections, if he wants. 

After some consideration, he opts for a seafood taster platter.  And crab rolls.  And a shake.  It's not like any particular delivery person is going to be bothered by making two stops, it's mostly drones these days.  "I didn't realize, but I'm actually pretty hungry.  I'll be starving in a few minutes, when my metabolism wakes up.  Here's your phone back."  Tim returns the phone, and returns to his previous state of flop.

She takes it and, after a moment of thought, adds a few more items to her order before sending it through. 

"...thirty to fifty minutes," she relays, letting the phone fall onto her chest as her head finds the couch cushion. 

"Hnnhhhhhh."  Tim has nowhere else to be and nothing better to do than half-doze on his partner.  He could try to scare something up in the kitchen, but honestly, that's just too much work right now.

Definitely too much work for Sara, when she'd have to escape the octopus on top of her too. 

They can just doze until the drone arrives. 

Then Tim will do his duty as a partner when he hears the whine of a drone's rotors through the open window.  When he returns, he starts sorting everything out.  "This is your crab legs, and here's my shake, and I've got my crab roll...Heh, not much of a sampler platter if it's all in little recyclable boxes.  And then I'm not sure what this is, but I didn't order it..."

"That's my bisque," she reaches for it. 

Tim visibly thinks for a moment about whether he wants to feed it to her.  Decides he's barely able to feed himself.  "Hang on a sec, lemme just..."  He grabs this ottoman thing, and sets their delicious assortment of  calories on it.  "Here, so you don't have to hold it on your chest and spill it all over yourself.  You've showered enough for the day."  He shoots her a very tired grin before starting in on his crab roll.  And maybe a few things from the platter-in-name-only.

She rolls over onto her belly on the couch, reaching to pull the footstool a little closer. Then she opens her bisque and starts metaphorically inhaling it with the provided bamboo spoon. 

"You're not using your endurance to eat hot soup, are you?"  Tim honestly isn't any better, he's absolutely ravenous.  The poor crab roll didn't stand a chance.  He does start to slow down about halfway through the platter-in-name-only.