Survey Says

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Where: Rylie's Townhouse

When: September 22, 2012; Morning

What: An impromptu road trip and weekend in LA is in order.

At least it's Saturday. Which means when Rylie's alarm doesn't go off at six because she didn't set it due to… distractions, it isn't the end of the world. So when she would normally be awake and showered and dressed and ready, she's still asleep, draped over a pillow, blonde hair going every which way.

Sunlight slips in between curtains, nature's alarm clock held mostly back. But it's trying so very hard. Rylie hasn't noticed it yet, but beams of light hit the bed, the discarded clothes, the side tables.

It also falls across Zan, who's stretched out beside her with one arm pushed beneath her pillow and the other tucked around his own head. He does a fair job of ignoring the insistence of light peeking in through the drapes, but eventually some muzzy form of awareness starts to creep in and interrupt the comfortable warmth and closeness.

With sleepy but still careful movements, he turns toward her and sidles closer. His arms enfold around Rylie with a gentle squeeze, and he nuzzles the back of her neck.

A bit of a groan is her response, but it's followed by her shifting closer to him as well. Rylie peeks an eye open, just one, and closes it again as she resettles against the pillows. "Morning," she says in a mutter, although there's a smile that slowly spreads over her face.

When she manages to open her eyes again, she glances toward the window, and then to the clock on the table next to the bed. "You want breakfast?"

"Morning," is Zan's murmured response, with a smile against her neck and arms tightening a little around her. He lets out a small sigh and continues to ignore, for the moment, that morning has come.

One eye cracks open when she moves a little, following her glance to the window and the clock though he himself doesn't move. "Maybe," he answers, allowing his eye to close again. "Eventually. What are we making?"

"Um, I hadn't gotten that far," Rylie says with a quiet laugh. "My breakfast is usually a granola bar and some burnt toast. And if that doesn't totally sway you toward food, I have some eggs I can turn into rubber, too."

She reaches a hand over to touch his cheek, her smile turning crooked. "You okay over there?" She probably means more than just a polite inquiry.

"Mental note, add breakfast to the meals I make," Zan teases with a grin. He allows his eyes to open a little, making him appear almost squinting. "I'll make breakfast. Eventually." Because he doesn't quite feel like getting up yet.

His eyes open a bit more at her question, and his grin eases into a smile that might still have some trace of nervousness to it. "Yeah," he answers, turning his head to kiss her wrist. "I think so… You?"

"You know, my take out restaurants have started to wonder what's happened to me," Rylie notes, teasing. But she leans in to press a kiss to his lips when he turns the question back around on her. "Yeah. No need to be nervous, right?"

Nervous or not, Rylie seems to have a hard time just laying around, and she's the first to slip out of bed, grabbing a robe to slide into. She's hardly in this robe, because lounging about isn't a pastime of hers. There also isn't one for him, which is just another example of home court advantage.

Zan rolls onto his back when she gets up, and takes a minute to scrub his face with his hands. With feigned resignation he climbs out next, kicking sheets aside to free his feet so his clothing can be found. At least that nervousness doesn't seem to follow him as he shuffles about and drags on yesterday's pants.

"You decided how you want your eggs," he asks as he grabs his shirt as well. He goes to the door, but doesn't open it yet, instead he turns and looks at her, a smile yet tugging at his expression.

"Cooked!" Rylie is helpful.

She stands in front of her closet, eyeing her clothes a bit before she picks something out. It might be a little bit. But when he doesn't slip out, she looks over her shoulder at him, her smile crooked and playfully suspicious. "What?"

"Cooked," Zan echoes with a smirk. Yes, very helpful. He shakes his head, and watches her for a moment longer. Draping his shirt over his shoulder he steps toward her to catch her in a kiss.

"Nothing," he answers, when he breaks away. This time when he goes to the door, he goes through and closes it behind him before getting into the breakfast-making rhythm.

That kiss is returned, and met with a surprised smile as she turns back to her clothes. Just a little one, but it's there. She's usually smoother than that in her mornings after.

It takes a while before she makes her way down stairs. There's a quick shower and everything. But she makes it! Dressed more relaxed than usual, since it is a weekend, and more girly than usual, too. That probably wasn't on purpose.

Eggs are cooking, and toast is already made. Zan's even worked the coffee maker and set plates and forks out. At some point he's donned his shirt, though it's still yesterday's selection. He's busy keeping the eggs from overcooking when she comes down, carefully turning them to get just the right amount of doneness to them.

But he does take a moment to glance her way when she first appears. "Hey," he says quietly, tipping his head toward the waiting brew and mugs.

Coming to get coffee first, Rylie settles next to him once it's in hand, pulling herself up onto the counter. "Hey," she says, returning his greeting with a smile. "So that wasn't so bad, huh?" she asks just as she moves to take a sip. It might be a little tongue in cheek, but more likely, she's just trying to get a reaction out of him.

"It was alright," Zan answers, trying to sound all casual about. Trying to sound casual, there might be a thread of that shyness coming through again. All the same he turns the stove off and lifts the pan with the eggs to set it on a cooler burner. Then he turns toward her, hands resting against the counter to either side of her hips, smile still on his lips.

"Alright," Rylie repeats, mockingly offended. She lets out a little huff, but when he comes over to her, she smirks down at him. "I say we go somewhere today. Wanna head out to the desert? Or something. We could go to LA for the night, even. Whatever. Anything!"

"It was great," Zan amends with a quiet chuckle. His brows tick upward, trying to look innocent in response to her smirk. Before answering, he leans forward enough to give her a quick kiss. "LA sounds good," he says after, tilting his head back to look up at her again. "Or wherever you feel like going."

"That's better," Rylie says with a deeper smirk. And when he comes in for a kiss, she makes it a bit longer before letting him lean back again. "You ever been? To LA? We could even hit a beach. It'd be a nice change in the weather," she says with a chuckle.

She slides down from the counter to stand in front of him. "Think we could sneak into your place without getting spotted by the folks? For packing?"

Zan slides his hands around her waist when she slips from the counter. "A couple of times," he answers, tipping his head to touch his forehead to hers. "Once for one of my dad's things. The other was a school trip."

He turns his head a little, letting it dip lower to press a kiss to her jawline. "I think it can be managed," he says, with some playful deviousness to his tone. "Basement has a separate entrance from the house." He sneaks in another kiss before nodding her toward the eggs, of course without letting her go just yet. "You eat, and I'll grab a shower before we head over." It isn't really a question, but his tone lilts so it nearly sounds like one.

"Well, this'll be better than those trips," Rylie says with a grin, wrapping her arms around him, too. She grins wider at the kisses, and it takes a little nudging before she actually breaks away for the food. "Alright, you go get ready. I'll eat and then we're off."

Nothing like an impromptu road trip.

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