Much to Claire’s enjoyment, he seemed pleased that she’d accepted his suggestion. Or at least the back of his head did; Mohinder was engrossed in the cords and buttons for a few more moments before sitting down to join her. A close, nicer restaurant, or homier, further away ones…she debated, head tilted, biting her lower lip. Well, since he suggested it, if she was honest she really would prefer the nicer restaurant. For a second, the further away restaurant and longer drive almost won, but it wasn’t as though she was about to spend the next two weeks–at least–in his company. There would be ample time for discussion whenever they wanted it.
Mentally running through her wardrobe, she knew just the thing to wear. Not exactly formal, but it wasn’t jeans and a sweater, and the colors complimented her very well. Then again, pink always did. “No, I think that first one would be just fine, if you don’t mind. I brought some nicer clothes just in case,” she said. She’d packed for a variety of occasions, unsure of what they’d be doing in the free time they had. If there was much free time at all. .She knew most of their activities would be actual lab work. Samples, tests, serum creation and so forth. It was a daunting task, and she hadn’t forgotten it. His mention of discussing it brought her back to reality, though she didn’t miss that break in his voice or how he fixated on the carpet. Claire wondered fleetingly if he knew how obvious he was. It was almost flattering, in a way.
As she stood, resisting the urge to pat his hand, she smiled. “I’ll be back out here after I change.” Without further ado, Claire retreated to the guest room and hauled the larger suitcase up onto the bed, opening it with a click of the locks to reveal the small wardrobe she’d brought along with her. Moving aside a few outfits, she pulled out a pale mauve blouse–it was a peasant style shirt, and she shed her other top to bring the new one down over her head before shimmying out of her jeans. They were replaced with plain black pants, complimented by black ankle boots. Little silver studs gave them just a hint of an edge. Checking her reflection in a mirror on the back of the door, she was satisfied and wandered back toward the living room. She’d wondered what Mohinder would choose to wear and what he would look like a little cleaned up. It certainly couldn’t do a face like his any harm.
This is going to be an interesting visit, she thought for the hundredth as she reached the end of the hall. Perhaps after a night of rest, knowing that there was a chance she could be normal, knowing that she had a man dedicated to making that happen, would help settle her mood and help her maintain a professional demeanor. If that were possible. Claire was a hedonist at heart, after all, and didn’t act against her own desires for too long.