His partner is sitting on the kitchen counter, working her way through a big mixing bowl of fruit salad - strawberries, orange slices, grapes, canteloupe and honeydew. She hops down when he arrives, and then swallows and nods in response to his question.

"Mhm! Do you mind if I bring my salad?" Also, would he like some? She offers the bowl in his direction. There's an extra fork, should he choose to wield it. 

"Oh, sure."  You know what, a little bit of canteloupe sounds pretty good right now.  He'll swipe a bite of that, with a fond smile for his partner.  "Thank you."  Then a few orange slices.

... okay, maybe he should stop before he just winds up eating his partner's entire midafternoon snack.

It's a big bowl, she won't miss a few bites here and there! 

"Lead on?" She tucks her bowl against her body and offers him a hand. 

Well, he'll take it!  He hasn't really racked up any backlash, but it's the guiding is nice.  "Of course."  'Leading' her is more of a formality than anything, the office is only a few rooms over.  But it feels right, somehow.  Tim makes a gesture at the cozy faux?-leather office chair - like many things in the house, it looks a little distressed, but is very functional.  And a chair's function is to be comfy.

Sara will make herself comfy in it, sitting crisscross applesauce with the bowl in the basket. The metal is a little chilly against her bare legs, but it'll warm up. 

"Ready and waiting, captain," she salutes him with a strawberry'd fork. 

Well.  That strawberry does look - no, focus.  You can eat afterwards.  "So, uh.  I've never done this with another person?  I think out loud, sometimes.  I can't promise anything I'm about to say is going to make sense, right away.  I do have a list of things I wanted to think about, but if there's anything you want to bring up, just do it.  OK?"

Well.  He'll poach a strawberry.  They look pretty fresh.

They're fresh and freshly chopped! They're late autumn strawberries, though, so not quite as delicious as they are earlier in the year. 

"Eekoshi. Feel free to take thinking fruits if you need them," she is grinning a little. 

He grins back.  It's nice to see her not covering her smile.  "Well, my thoughtful partner brought me a fork, it'd be silly to waste it."

He taps on the board, and brings up the notes he's been making, minus a few that he's chosen to delete for one reason or another.

Develop beam power
Cut down artillery piece?  Not practical?  check.
Sensing - better detection?
guiding(grow up)
Shirt - confirm when breathing better.
Stress test vs giant crab?  How???  Feed it car??  Animal testing???  No.
My girl vs. my partner??
Pain relief - default?  Allergies, though?  Preferences?
Backlash consent hell???  What the fuck?  Tradeoffs survival vs. consent.
Uisa - talk?  Explain time limits, decide further.  REALLY did not want to move her, femur in bad position.
Bone specialist, medic?  Spend a day in bone injury ward.  Is there a bone injury ward???  Pay people with broken arms to come to the healing silo, practice on them.  Messed up, but better than alternative?  Probably?
Standard medical advice: don't fuck them up, let specialist handle.  But I'm better than a specialist???  Work on prioritization system.
Fast-acting local anesthetic.  Currently only have general, consider changing that?

"Well.  I cheated a little bit, I started on the first two already.  It turns out, I absolutely could fire a mortar from the hip, if I didn't mind carrying forty pounds' worth of reloads.  So, that one's out unless we get a really interesting dungeon.  So I doubt I'll be able to get a Beam rating just because I can shoot weapons a normal person couldn't.  Although Bill wants to get me re-rated after the Confluence, so.  Maybe."

As he speaks, he starts to load up the bar.  He's going to be thinking for a while, so he starts off kind of light.  Well, light when you account for the fact that he's a professional warrior and former serious grappling competitor and an esper.

Sara would have her chin in her hands if there wasn't a bowl in her lap. As is, she keeps eating as she examines the board. 

No comments yet- she'll wait until he goes down the list before adding any input, unless something really stands out to her. 

"For the sensing thing, I...so, when I was doing the healing silo thing, back home?  I wasn't really interacting much.  Like, I sat there and gave out my buff and most of my input was 'is this injury a good fit for my power?'  But after the guy with the heart attack, I kind of...realized that I'm underusing the checkup function of my power?  I bet if I'd had a drawing of the heart, I could have pointed to exactly where the problem is for cheap.  Well, cheap on backlash.  If Uisa ever forgives me, that'd be something I could ask her to teach me."  He makes a bit of a face - they hadn't...exactly...parted on bad terms, but Tim's not sure if they'll ever be friends, either.

"I think Uisa cares more about your healing power than any mistakes you might have made," Sara points out between bites. "She seems too reasonable to blacklist you forever or something like that." 

"Well, yeah.  But...mrrrggghhhh."  He does a few more reps, a look of concentration on his face as his eyes stare blankly into nothing.  "I...would have liked to be more than a regeneration dispenser to the world's best healer."  He racks the bar and rubs a bicep absentmindedly.

"Well, even if she won't teach you, that sensing is something you can learn with some books and some time examining people. It might be slower, but you could still learn."

(Omnom grapes.)

"Ye - ".  He cuts himself off, then signs at her instead.  Practice sign.  Affirmative.  Write computer.  Then he suits actions to words and writes on the touchscreen a memo to sign up for anatomy classes.  "Uh, did you catch that okay?"

She snorts, signs a yes, and adds, "Wii. Our hands are a little full for sign just now, though," she points out. His are either busy writing or full of weights, while she's still eating. "But we should practice whenever we can." 

"Oh.  Right."  Well, since he's up anyway he'll grab another strawberry slice. those were good.  "Then the next one is -"

guiding(grow up)

FUCK.  "Uh.  Okay!  So...we've been...kind of busy to talk about it.  But we should."

"Um. Yes." She stabs her fork into a canteloupe and leaves it there. "We should talk about- well. What exactly we are comfortable with, and in what circumstances. Kissing? Full nudity? How far is too far to be comfortable, outside of emergencies." 

"Um." Tim swipes her fork and canteloupe bite and not as a delaying tactic, it just looked like a good piece.  "Well.  I mean, if it's an emergency.  It should be.  Fine.  But."  He goes back to the weightlifting bench, and puts his hands on the bar.  Caresses it with his fingers.  "So, uh.  I'm trying not to, uh.  Get into a relationship.  I mean, we're - partners, right?  And friends?  But my first - partnership."  Frivolous use of his power reveals that he is not about to die of awkwardness.  "It, uh.  Was fast?  I don't want to - just dive into anything?"  Even though we're sleeping together, holding hands, cuddling, and you just used her fork without thinking twice about it.  Without thinking about it at all.

Excuse him, that was her chunk of canteloupe! She steals his fork and eats a bit of honeydew in retaliation.

"Wii... I don't want to, either. Kissing can just be, mm. It doesn't have to mean anything? But maybe it would, even if we didn't mean it to?" 

"Right.  I mean, this is my fault, really, you're - sleek, and you're thoughtful, and you're passionate, and you're really brave.  I saw how you were in the one with the crabs, and you do this to yourself over and over again, on purpose.  And that cup of tea.  I'm not - Errghggh."  He starts to bench-press.  Slowly, with a focus on perfect form.

She ducks her head, "Mhm. I feel silly talking about this after I, um. Blew up at you, but. You're very admirable, too, you know." 

"Oh, I mean - thank you?  Um.  When did you blow up at me, though?"  He racks the bar and looks at her from the bench, puzzlement knitting his brows together.

"When- we first talked about this? That first weekend I spent with you." She stops, considering that. "I can't believe that was just two weeks ago." 

"Oh.  I mean, that wasn't really a blowup.  You were fine, honestly."  Heh.  'Blowup'.

She shouted at him though? She squints up and over at him.

"...if you say so. Still." 

After going through puberty in the Delgado residence, Tim probably has a higher threshold for what qualifies as a blowup.  Also, his previous partner tipped the scale even more.  "Anyway.  We're both okay.  But, um.  As to the, er. topic.  I'm not - opposed to relationships.  In general.  I just - wanted to deliberately choose one.  And prove it by not dating for a while.  So."

"I don't even know what it would look like, if I dated someone. I- I know other people like me date? I don't know if I want to." 

“Oh.  Yeah, I’m not - exactly surprised.  I did some reading, after that first weekend.  Didn’t want to step on the same rake twice, you know?”

She directs a small smile his way, though he probably can't see it at this angle. 

"That's good of you. I wouldn't want to charge right into one, either way. If... If anything like that could happen between us, I think it should wait." 

"Okay.  So, kissing, not unless it gets.  Pretty bad.  I uh, I think we can agree to do a.  Common sense decision on if something counts as pretty bad?"

"...if I am actually fighting you to climb things, that is bad enough for kissing to be reasonable, I think. Just until I stop fighting." 

"Okay.  Or, I uh, I don't want to - push you.  But if we're in a dungeon and your backlash is getting - really scary?  Definitely not outside of the dungeon, though."

She considers, and nods, "Yes, that's reasonable too. But, ask, then? I should be able to nod, or sign." She signs an affirmative, and a yes. 

"Sure, yeah, I don't want to just - force you.  Just, planning for emergencies."  Like many hard conversations with Sara, this started out feeling incredibly scary but then actually turned out to not be that bad?  Hm.  Normally he'd write that down to think about later, but given that they're already here and he's dedicated this time to thinking ANYWAY...  "You know, every time we - talk about this kind of thing?  I feel like it's going to be really hard and it turns out to be only a little difficult."  Sara gets a little smile from her partner.

"Oh. Really?" She supposes none of the hard conversations have been all that fraught. "I guess... Well, nothing you have asked about or done has been so unreasonable, I think? Sometimes I worry you don't take enough care of yourself. But other than that..." 

Well.  He'll get up from the bar and put that on the List.  "What d'you mean by not taking care of myself?"

"I'm not sure how much is just... My own worry. But it seems sometimes that you value your own health and safety and sanity too little. I think you push yourself a little too hard to be long-term viable. Lack of proper rest, mostly." 

She sets her bowl on the arm of the chair.

"Though, we are taking something of a break now. So maybe it's not so bad." 

"I'm - really glad I have my power, and it's stupid to be a little - resentful of what I got.  I'm so, so happy to have it, and I've done so much good with it, and I'll keep doing good with it until I die."

As he talks, he's doodling a bit on the board.  Partial transcription of what he's saying, with little squiggles connecting concepts.

"But...it would be really easy for me to resent the healing portion of my power.  I sit in a room and I try not to fall asleep, and eventually people walk out feeling better.  And it's worth it, right?  I see people walk out, I'm great for stupid nerve disorders that won't heal naturally.  But I'm not - natively good at sitting quietly in a room all day.  To be honest, I probably could have paid off my loans faster if I'd had more discipline.  And not, uh, proven...personally incompatible with.  My previous partner."  A sensation of shame fills his gut.  He tries to ignore it.

"But I don't - I can't be who I am and not try to use my power as best I can.  Sometimes it's for dungeons, where you need to protect the victims or the espers.  I think if I hadn't, uh.  Screwed up with that girl with the legs, I probably would have gone to another dungeon.  But even I'm not stupid enough to know my head's just not there right now, and if I try to do a dungeon when I'm not ready, I'm risking lives."

Hmm. 

"Is it the lying down that is the big problem? Do you need to be lying down the whole time? Or, is it feeling like you're not doing much? Maybe you could do online classes during? The anatomy classes, for example.

"Also, I wish you wouldn't call yourself stupid. I guess that could be said to be part of not taking care of yourself." 

Ah, shit.  I forgot.  He writes "stupid" on the board, then circles it and draws two lines through it in red.  "Sorry.  It's not - I'm just a physical kind of guy.  You uh, might've noticed already."  He gestures towards the weightlifting cage and grins a little.  "I don't deal well with sitting down and waiting.  Studying helps, classes help, but it's not moving.  The video games are - sort of a placebo?  They're close enough to trick my brain if I'm not paying too much attention."  He pauses for a second, then decides to choose trust.  "So, when I was in school - have you ever heard the phrase 'football IQ'?"

"You are quite fidgety. But, I don't think I've heard of that, no?" 

He makes a little face at her.  "It's - so, there are people who are good at academics, and there are people who are good at sports, like football.  Or these days, at running dungeons.  I don't have a head for math or science, I'm not putting myself down?  I just - there are people who have a talent for it, and I don't.  So.  Football IQ."  He pauses for a second and realizes he's been rambling.  "Does that even make sense?"

"It kind of does. That doesn't make you stupid, though. And, when you say it, it does sound like you're putting yourself down. 'Even I'm not stupid enough'? If nothing else, it's the wrong word. Stubborn, maybe," she smiles a little. "You're very stubborn about some things." 

"Well.  Can't argue about being stubborn.  But yeah, it kind of - I'm probably not explaining this well. There's regular IQ and then there's football IQ, and you get passed if you've got football IQ and you're on the team.  And I'm in a job where my football IQ, my physical sense and my coordination actually matter and the fact that I only passed Algebra 2 because I was on the wrestling team doesn't?  You don't need a PHD to do dungeons, I think half of dungeoneers drop out of high school and they're not wrong to do it."

"If you cared about passing algebra properly I'm sure you could, even if it would be difficult. Besides, not being good at math doesn't make you stupid, I think." She shrugs. "Anyway, taking care of yourself by not continuing to do dungeons when you need some rest doesn't have much to do with, um, academia? That is... common sense? Maybe. Or maybe it is even football smarts. You can't play if you break yourself." 

A deep well of mixed irritation and sham rises up inside of him.  He had tried, damn it.  It's fine, there's no need to argue about it.  Water under the bridge and he's never going to have to deal with that ever again.  And he doesn't think she gets it, not really.  But he doesn't need to dump his neuroses on her, she's not hi-.  Wait.  She asked for this.  She literally wanted to watch his brain churn.

He takes a deep breath.  Lets it out.

"The implication is that if you have bad grades but you're good on the field, you're stupid but good at sports, and they'll pass you so you don't get kicked off the team.  So, football IQ.  And I'm not - I'm not actually stupid.  But there's things I'm just garbage at, and now that I'm an esper I don't have to anymore."

"...okay. Good. You don't have to. You can be bad at things without being stupid," she nods, "That's what- I just wanted to make sure you knew that. Some people don't know that, you know? A lot of the kids I grew up around thought that way." 

"Yeah, no, I'm not stupid stupid.  I'm just not going to get into premed unless I cheat outrageously with my power."  Hm.  Does Sara need a hug?  She's going to get one, after Tim sets her bowl on the desk.

She doesn't mind a hug! She will take a hug. 

"...Are you stealing my fruit salad?" 

"I was saving it.  Didn't want to knock it over."  It's a little bit awkward hugging someone sitting in an office chair, but it lets him press her cheek to his stomach.  And pet her hair, which is nice.  "Anyway, I'm - sorry.  I think you mentioned you didn't like it when I put myself down, and I did it again.  I'll get better about that."

She nods into his belly, "That's all I want, really. No one gets to be mean to my friends, even my friends." 

Oh man.  Well.  Now he feels like a shithead.  "Okay."  He sounds a little subdued.

She squeezes him around the waist. 

He pets her hair, thinking.  Just another thing to practice.  "Ready for the next one?  Or do I have to turn you around so I can see the board without making you let go?"

He can have another squeeze first, but she lets go of him.

"No, you can go on. Can I have my fruit back?" 

"Hmmm.  Most of it."  He pops an orange slice in his mouth, then a strawberry slice.  Then he puts the bowl in her lap, and holds a canteloupe chunk to her lips.

Monch! 

"Next up..."

Stress test vs giant crab?  How???  Feed it car??  Animal testing???  No.

"Well.  We kind of killed it already.  So next up is..."

My girl vs. my partner??

Why do I even bother thinking.  Mom, I want a refund on this brain, it's clearly defective.  "Um.  At one point, I uh.  I introduced you as my girl instead of my partner?  And it felt...kind of off?"

She giggles quietly, nodding, "I think that is a little, um, suggestive? In English introducing someone like that is for girlfriends, isn't it? There's that old song..." 

She hums a line of My Girl, by The Temptations. 

"Y-yeah.  Uh."  say something.  "Sorry.  You're not - I mean, you're your own person.  You don't - belong to me?  I mean, you're my partner, but that's not."  Pause.  Breathe.  "You're an esper, and you solo-sensored Arrakis to death, and mapped out the whole damn dungeon.  You shouldn't - I mean, you deserve a better introduction than that."

Tim is actually a little lucky that his immigrant upbringing doesn't lead him to recognize the song!

"I don't really mind except it will make people think things that aren't true, yes? I am your partner, you're allowed to be proud of me just like I'm allowed to be proud of you. At least, that's my guess of what you meant by it?" 

She is waving a forkful of strawberry around as she thinks this through aloud. 

"Yeah.  I mean, I am proud of you.  I heard they're upgrading it to S-rank, I don't know if you heard.  I - " wait shit don't self-deprecate.  "Uh.  Hang on, let me...Lemme think."

He reaches up to the top of the weightlifting cage, and sloowwwwlllyyyy grinds out a pull-up.  Another.  And while he goes through the motions, he talks.  "So.  You're great, and not just because you're an esper, right?  And you're wi-uh, you're partnered with me.  And I'm - it reflects well on me, that of all the people you could be hanging out with, it's me."  He drops down and shakes out his arms.  "Does that make sense?"

"Sure," she's blushing a little, a condition she hides behind a big chunk of honeydew. 

“So I want to tell everyone. ‘Hey!  That’s my partner!’  So I guess that kind of makes sense.”

It makes sense that she’s blushing, he gets that way about compliments too, sometimes.  Politest thing to do is ignore it.

"Mhm. So don't worry about it, I think? Just say my partner," she shrugs, forking a grape into her mouth. 

"Sure.  Okay."  Well, the next item has got to be less embarrassing, right?

Pain relief - default?  Allergies, though?  Preferences?

... well.  Less embarrassing, yes.  Less painful, probably not.

"I think I'm going to need to talk to Bill about this and get an expert consensus, but with allergies, I don't know how I feel about it being the default if it's not actually life-saving.  My power wouldn't help much with an allergic reaction, and it could be catastrophic in a dungeon."

"That's true. That might be something to ask Uisa about, again. She must have something worked out for that, since she treats so many espers. Or maybe Airmed, if Uisa isn't willing? She isn't the only esper medic in the world." Just the best. 

He sighs.  "Yeah."  Let's just...not.  "Next up..."

Backlash consent hell???  What the fuck?  Tradeoffs survival vs. consent.
Uisa - talk?  Explain time limits, decide further.  REALLY did not want to move her, femur in bad position.

"Yeah.  I think, let's just.  Move on for now.  They're not actionable right now, I can work on them later."

Bone specialist, medic?  Spend a day in bone injury ward.  Is there a bone injury ward???  Pay people with broken arms to come to the healing silo, practice on them.  Messed up, but better than alternative?  Probably?

"I don't really know that a bone specialist is the way to go here.  Like, what are the odds that I'll wind up with an outrageous break again?  And the odds...Ugh."

"Mhm, not a bone specialist, maybe, just a DRT general medic? Someone to check you, so you don't have to worry about making bad calls when backlashed." 

"One of the Dwarves is, but I don't always bring them into dungeons.  And that's where I'd be making most of my judgment calls.  The whole reason I rushed the job with...her...is because I was afraid that one of the breaks was going to come loose and nick her femoral artery.  Especially if she did something with her superstrength.  And it's time-sensitive, right?  So the longer I take to apply the power, the longer it takes to heal.  I don't get it, it should have been a twenty minute job.  I think she must've been reinjured during transport, the teleportation, maybe."  Or you missed something, you buffoon.  "I...I mean, I could have missed something.  And even medical training doesn't - uuugghhhh."

He's been doing a lot of arm work for a while.  He gets on the floor and starts doing crunches, talking whenever his back touches the floor.

"So.  The first rule of first response is that you don't become another victim.  But the second is that you leave whatever's wrong to the specialists, right?  But - " he gestures towards the board.  "I'm better than a specialist.  If you're hurt near me, you will recover.  And it's just pain, it doesn't - I mean, it matters, but what matters more - saving yourself months healing, or a lot of pain for twenty minutes?  You saw her legs, if she hadn't gotten a medical esper around, she might not have walked again.  She might not have lived.  And having a medic around wasn't enough.  You'd need an orthopedic surgeon, and that's just for her legs.  What about the next person, with a neck wound?  Or finger problems?"

She nods, slowly. 

"I see what you mean. I think- if you did make a mistake, you need to find out how to avoid it in the future. But maybe you didn't. Or maybe you made a mistake the way medics sometimes do, where they make the wrong call but the right call was hard to see." 

"Yeah.  And like, in a dungeon nobody would have looked twice at me.  Patient with fucked up legs, got them to the point where the legs weren't going to fall off or kill them, transported them to safety.  But I forgot I had the world's best healer just a phone call away.  I - it wasn't panic mode, I didn't panic, exactly.  But it definitely wasn't me sitting down, looking at all of my options, and picking the best one."

Nodnod. 

"Maybe you just need someone who is explicitly supposed to look at your decisions and call you out? Someone who really knows how your healing works, so they don't just go, 'oh that's just esper things'."

"Well, if you catch me acting like an id-shit."  No self-deprecation around Sara.  "Um.  I mean.  If you see me doing something unwise, please tell me.  I guess I need to ask Bill to get a DRT consultant or something to AAR my dungeons for a while."  Carol used to, but I don't know if Sara'd be willing.  "Maybe Airmed would be able to consult, if it's something medical.  I didn't get to talk to her much, but she seemed nice."  And she didn't accidentally torture any patients!  Great qualifications.

Nodnod! "I can do that when I'm with you. Though we did think we'll be taking a lot of separate dungeons this confluence." 

"Yeah.  And you're always welcome, whenever I'm - trying to figure out what I'm thinking, on a verbal level."  He's not thrilled about running dungeons separate from his partner, but.  He starts putting action items on the board, thinking.  "Last one is the local anesthetic thing.  I could bring lidocaine or something like it, and just supersoaked injuries with it.  I think the problem is that if I touch it, I go numb.  And that could be a problem in a dungeon.  So I don't think I want to do that, but maybe Bill will come up with something."

He finishes scribbling, then plops himself on the desk next to Sara.  He helps himself to a couple of grapes.  "Anything you think I should be thinking about?"

"I think you lost that 'talk to Uisa about what she does about backlashes' point, but that isn't something you can do anything about just now, anyway." She shrugs, offering him a piece of canteloupe. 

Aww, she picked him a good one!  Ahhh.  Chompf.  “Yeah, that’s a later problem.  I - I’m not trying to dodge responsibility?  But I almost want to write this whole stupid thing off as just bad luck.  What were the odds that I’d run into an undisclosed psych backlashed esper with life-threatening injuries, anyway?”

"Not inconsiderable, I think," she points out (along with her fork). "During a confluence, you might work with many different espers. You will probably run into more before this is over." 

Well.  He’s not thrilled to hear that.  He swipes a strawberry slice and eats it grumpily.

Poor Tim. She offers him another off her fork in apology. 

Resentful nomf.  Is it weird that he likes the secondhand guiding from this thinking about it makes it weird, Tim.  He sighs.  "You're right, it's just - nobody knew what her backlash was, and I didn't even realize she was backlashed 'till I touched her, and even after that, I had no idea that it had anything to do with needing pain control."  It's not fair.

"I do need to figure out what you do in this kind of Consent Hell situation.  It wasn't - unprecedented or anything.  Just.  My number happened to come up."