Gideon Fischer ⚕️ Alex Karev (pediatrician) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2020-03-25 08:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, * jeanne, * terri, c: embry fischer, c: gideon fischer |
WHO: Gideon Fischer & Embry Marshall
WHEN: January 1, 2016
WHERE: His Loft
SUMMARY: Gideon asks Embry to move in with him.
WARNINGS: None!
BINGO: Discuss The Future
Gideon had been in Dunhaven since September, and though he hadn't moved there for the greatest reasons, he was happier now with that choice than he'd have expected to be. He'd settled in well at the hospital- and, after not working since January, it was good to get back into a rhythm of something normal. He had a steady amount of work, but it wasn't so overwhelming or demanding as CHOP had been. His friendship with Embry Marshall, though unexpected, had been another bright spot in his life since coming to Dunhaven. She worked at the hospital with him, and though they didn't often interact on the job, they spent quite a lot of time together outside the hospital. It had started with an occasional beer shared after a long day, and now was something more akin to TV marathons on days off and sometimes-accidental, sometimes-not platonic sleepovers. So when she'd suggested having a New Year's Eve party at his place, Gideon hadn't hesitated. They'd invited colleagues from the hospital, and some others had been in and out throughout the evening. It had been a successful time, all things considered. There had been abundant alcohol, music, dancing, and he'd even deigned to allow helium balloons that floated up into the loft's high ceilings. Now after midnight, the guests had all left. Well, all but one, technically. Gideon was picking up some errant bottles, but Embry was still hanging around, too. "Are you staying over, Em?" -- Since early November, Embry had been spending many of her days and nights away from home, instead curled up on Gideon’s couch. At some point, she’d even left an emergency sleepover kit at his place, but it was more just a place to keep her spare toothbrush and other toiletries for when she’d had a few beers or was simply tired and ended up sleeping on his sofa with what was now sort of her blanket. She had suggested the New Year’s Eve party because she was one of the few people Gideon actually did hang out with outside of work, and it gave an opportunity for him to get to know some more people outside of just passing them in the halls at work. It had been a success, as far as she could tell. People had a good time, filtering in and out, drinking and dancing. There had been an abundance of people pairing off to kiss at midnight, but that had been a while ago now. Most people had left within an hour of the ball drop, but she was still there with Gideon. Her heels had been kicked off some time ago, and the dress she’d worn clung to her hips as she scraped a plate someone had left on the bookcase into an awaiting plastic bag. She gave a small hum of indecision, knowing that she could stay, but she...well, Embry hadn’t actually been home in...what was it? Three days? She needed clean clothes, and she was almost out of toothpaste. Despite it being New Years Eve, she hadn’t had an inordinate amount to drink, and felt plenty sober enough to drive should she want to. Mostly she...hadn’t wanted to make a fool out of herself and do something she shouldn’t like end up making out in the corner of his loft with someone from anesthesiology. She gave a small, reluctant sounding sigh, “I should probably go home. I need clean clothes.” -- He'd extended that initial invitation for her to stay over on a night when they'd both had far too much to drink in a short amount of time, and their emotions along with that drink would have made driving home a regrettable decision. And though the times she'd been staying over lately had been sober more often than not, Gideon had no complaints about his erstwhile houseguest. And yet, when she said she was going home tonight (or this morning, as it might have been), there was… a pang of disappointment. "Yeah, of course," he agreed with her with his first breath, but the second gave an alternative, "though I'm pretty sure you still have a pair of sweatpants here. I washed them." -- “Did you?” she asked curiously, trying to think on when she’d left her sweatpants out. She had no doubt that he’d done just as he said, but she hadn’t meant to put off her laundry on him, even if it was a relatively small piece in the whole. “I mean, if you’ve got a shirt I can borrow, I guess we could kick back with a nightcap? I think we’ve got most of the mess cleaned up anyway, and what we didn’t get now I can help with in the morning,” she offered, a small smile on her lips, “But I definitely have to go home tomorrow because I swear I have more than two shirts and two pairs of pants.” -- He hadn't thought it particularly unusual to find a pair of sweatpants left behind. She'd slept in them, changed into her scrubs, and simply forgotten. Gideon wasn't offended. He did laugh, though, when Embry asked if he had a shirt she could borrow. He was a bit taller than her, yes, and a bit broader, but at least in the case of sleepwear, those differences wouldn't mean much at all. "Yeah, Em, I think I can find a shirt for you to wear." "You didn't have to stay and clean at all, so if you're trying to win for favorite person in Dunhaven, congrats, it's yours." Gideon wrinkled his nose at her with a grin. "Nightcap before or after pajamas?" -- She knew that his shirt would be big on her, but her night clothes tended to range from swimming on her to being form fitting, and most of the time here she wore looser styles anyway. Embry wasn’t afraid or ashamed of her body, but...well, it had been clear since he’d arrived that Gideon just wanted to be friends with her, and she didn’t want him to think she was disrespecting that. “I was the one that suggested you have a party in the first place, so I’m pretty sure I had some responsibility to help clean up,” she pointed out with a grin, “But I really don’t mind, and I will accept the title of favorite person in Dunhaven.” She tossed another few things into her garbage bag, “Definitely after pajamas. I want to be nice and cozy. This dress was meant for mingling, not relaxing.” -- "I didn't have to say yes," Gideon countered, playfully. Taking the garbage bag from Embry, Gideon tied it off and set it by the door to be carried out in the morning. "C'mon. It's all upstairs." The sweatpants in question were retrieved from a bottom drawer of his bureau, and Gideon found a shirt- with the CHOP logo on it- and handed these both over to Embry. There was a half bathroom on the main floor that the rest of the party's guests had used that night, but Gideon just nodded toward the door that led to the master bath. "You can change there. I don't mind." -- “No, but it’s my duty as your couch crasher,” she waved it off with a grin, but knew she wouldn’t have left him here to clean on his own unless she’d literally had no other option. Her shoes were already off, which made the climb up the stairs easier - steadier - than it might have been otherwise. She didn’t wear heels all the time, though when she did, she was usually pretty adept at it. She had some really cute heels that got neglected far too often. She followed Gideon up those steps, and took the pajamas gratefully. “I won’t be long,” she promised, smiling a little at the logo of their old workplace. She had taken a few minutes there at the sink after she peeled off that dress to wash her face. Satisfied that she’d removed her make-up, Embry slipped into her own sweatpants and pulled that shirt on over her head - at least two sizes too large on her, and men’s cut to boot. She pulled a hair tie from her wrist and gathered her hair up into a loose, messy bun. A few moments later, Embry emerged with that sequined red dress hanging from her hand and struck something of a pose, “Better. I am in prime relaxation mode now.” -- Gideon had taken the opportunity to change as well, having assumed that Embry might take a few extra minutes in the bathroom, so it was fairly unlikely that she'd accidentally walk back out on him in a compromising position. His own party clothes had made their way to the laundry basket, and Gideon now wore a pair of sweatpants of his own and a t-shirt from Boston University. "You certainly are," Gideon grinned at the pose Embry struck there, like something out of a movie scene. "You're ridiculous, too," he added, tossing her a hooded sweatshirt. "In case you get cold." It matched his t-shirt. -- She snagged the hoodie when he tossed it to her, pulling it close to her chest, though she didn’t immediately pull it on, “I am certain I will end up wearing it at some point tonight. I’m pretty sure my fuzzy socks are still in that bag downstairs,” she smirked a little, “How’s that for ridiculous?” Embry took the lead going downstairs, retreating back to the couch where they usually sat together, “What are we night-capping with tonight? Scotch? Bourbon? I think there’s part of a bottle of wine and some Irish cream.” -- "I won't call those ridiculous, if only because I'm jealous they don't make them in my size," Gideon offered, as he followed Embry back down the stairs. "I think we're still close enough to the holiday season to be able to mix bourbon and Irish cream and call it festive, right?" Gideon stopped in the kitchen to mix said drinks, adding a few ice cubes and even topping each one off with a dash of nutmeg. "Here we are," as he handed Embry her glass, still holding his own and collapsing onto the sofa next to her with a comfortable, satisfied oof. -- "I hope you know it's now become my sole mission to find you manly, sizable fuzzy socks," she informed him with a grin. It would still be cold enough yet that she might have some luck. She agreed that they were, indeed, close enough to the holidays to have festive drinks. She had settled into the couch, and after a few moments of consideration, his hoodie had been pulled on which left them matching one another rather well. Now with a drink in hand and him beside her on the couch, she had reached over to give their glasses a little clink of a toast, "Cheers. To a good year, and excellent friends." -- "I mean, I think there are probably worse things to dedicate your life's work to, really," Gideon offered, solemnly. "I wish you good fortune on your endeavors." He clinked his glass to hers, offering an echoed cheers before he took a sip. "Best friend," Gideon added, after a moment's consideration. "You, I mean. Which is probably obvious, all things considered." And maybe that particular title didn't matter, per se. Maybe that was only a phrase that preteen girls used. But it… somehow still felt important to say. -- "I think you'll find I'm quite resourceful," she assured him with a small smirk, already planning on places she could go to search out those elusive socks. He had never called her his best friend before, and Embry didn't think she'd done so to his face, but she'd certainly thought it…maybe said it to other people. "Best friend," Embry agreed with a small smile, taking a sip of her drink, "You're mine, too, you know." That didn't displace Dahlia as her best friend - you could have more than one - but…Dahlia wasn't here at present. -- "I have no doubt." When she agreed with his sentiment, Gideon just smiled around another sip of his drink, settling back into the sofa a bit more. They were right next to one another, shoulders touching, but that… wasn't unusual, really. "Well thank goodness. This would have been real awkward otherwise." -- She just laughed a little, nudging him gently with her shoulder, "No awkwardness. There never has been, with us." Which was probably miraculous, given the fact that he knew her more intimately than likely anyone, despite only one hook up two and a half years prior. Embry sipped a little more on her drink, looking over to him, "It was a really good party. Everyone seemed like they had a good time." -- He shifted slightly with the nudge, but ended up right where he'd started, and just took another drink. "There hasn't," Gideon agreed, with a fond smile. He remembered that hook up, of course, but he wasn't about to bring it up in normal conversation. It hadn't meant anything. "I credit the hostess for that," he added, "since you invited 90% of the guests. But it was, yeah. We'll do it again next year for sure." -- "I mean," she began, taking another sip of her drink, "Thank you for letting me throw parties at your very spacious loft." She had sort of been the hostess. Even though Gideon had played host well, plenty of people had asked her about things about where the bathroom was or what drink offerings were at the makeshift bar. She'd replenished snacks and had all the answers, technically. "We'll have more time to plan for next year, too," she offered, as they had pulled together this party rather quickly, all told. -- "Hopefully next year I can contribute at least a quarter of the guest list, too. Maybe that'll be my resolution." It was after midnight, so they were allowed to determine such things for the new year, right? With another slow sip, Gideon looked up at the large windows and the tall ceilings- the latter of which still housed festive balloons. "It's basically your place, too, you know. I mean, you're here just as much as I am." -- "It's a good resolution. You've only been in town a few months, so I think it's very doable to get another 15% in the year," Embry agreed with a grin, given that he'd attributed 10% of the guests for his own invitation quota this year. When he said it was basically her place too, she looked over at him, her head leaned back against the cushions, "I guess I am, but it's not technically my address. I'm just like…the bum best friend that sleeps on your couch and brings over take out to help offset." She did not, after all, have a key or get her mail here…it wasn't the address on her license. -- He'd met that gaze, but just shrugged off her would-be protests. "You could just as easily not be a bum, if you wanted." Realizing, after the fact, that that phrase might imply that he wanted her to not crash on his couch or bring over food at random, Gideon added, "There's an extra bedroom upstairs. All it's got is boxes in it now." -- At first, she wondered if the implication there was that he didn't want her to keep crashing there - despite having given her the opportunity to do so tonight when she'd planned to go home - or if she should be doing something more to…compensate for the amount of time she spent here. Embry bit the inside of her cheek, but was surprised when he continued, pointing out that bedroom upstairs that she knew about, but never asked what was inside. She turned just a little more towards him, shoulder shifting back a bit, but her knee touched his thigh instead. She paused a moment before asking, "How drunk are you right now? So I know how seriously I should consider this as an offer." -- Gideon didn't withdraw when Embry shifted, and instead just gave half a shrug before lifting his glass to his lips again. "Maybe a little," he admitted. "But I've been thinking about it for a while now." As if to prove this particular point, he added, "There's a key for you in the drawer of the coffee table. It's on the keychain with the E." -- Although Embry was tempted to dive for the coffee table to check for said key, she did not immediately move, choosing instead to just believe that he was telling the truth, "Yeah? I mean…I can't say that it hasn't crossed my mind that it would be more convenient. And it would stop mom and dad from asking me when I'm going to be home with those looks. But…" She trailed off a moment, biting her lip a little before she asked, "So what would my half be? Monetarily." -- Though the question about money was perhaps to be expected, Gideon just pulled a face and shook his head. "I don't actually need your help with the mortgage, Em. Just pay for your share of the food and maybe buy me some beer on occasion and I'll call it even." -- She wrinkled her nose at the notion that she would only pay for her own food and his occasional beer in repayment for actually living here full time. Embry shook her head just a little, "I think you know my conscience won't totally allow that. I'll pay utilities. All of them. Including the internet and cable service." -- "Em…" He didn't quite whine her name, though there was an unflattering tone to it. "Let's split the utilities." Gideon knew that he was more well off than Embry, though he didn't really focus on that particular detail very often. They tended to split things already, when they went out together. It seemed relatively even, to him. "Sixty-forty?" -- He did make more money than her, and she knew it even though they didn't really talk about it. He offered to split the utilities, and she made what she was certain was a sour face, "You're paying the mortgage, Gideon. I'm pretty sure I can afford to pay the utilities." -- Well, he might have had more fight in him, but it all disappeared when Embry made that face. "Fine, fine," Gideon exhaled, dramatically, but held his glass over to Embry to seal the agreement with a toast. "Deal." -- "And I'm buying your beer," she said with a smirk, just a moment before she clinked her glass against his to seal the deal. She took a quick sip before he could protest, "I'm so good at negotiating." Embry settled into the couch cushions, proud of herself for getting at least that much as her responsibility. Her pride really would allow no less than that. -- Gideon hadn't meant to injure Embry's pride. He just… thought they'd make something good out of this, and didn't see the harm in trying. It was a big empty space, those nights she wasn't here. "You're a shark. I should have known." -- Embry smirked a little at his accusation, but admitted more seriously, "I don't want something for nothing, Gideon. If we're sharing a household, even if it's in your name, I want to contribute to it. I know there's more meaningful ways to contribute than money, and I'm all for that, but I don't want to be a burden on anyone. Where I am now, I pay my parents to help offset the cost of me living there while I've been saving up for my own place, but I'm not hurting for money. I don't have school debt right now between scholarships, grants, and working my ass off to pay what little I did owe." Taking a thoughtful drink from her glass, she shrugged, "I just want to pull a little of the weight on my own. I shouldered just about everything in Philly, so this…this is very manageable. And honestly, a much better living situation." -- She had a point, of course, and Gideon nodded along with her reasoning. "You know your finances better than I do," he offered, finally. "If you say you can afford it, I trust you." Granted, she hadn't actually seen any of the hard-and-fast numbers yet, but that would likely come in the next day or so. "It'll be good. Not that your parents aren't, too, but... No one looking over your shoulder, here." -- She didn't imagine that paying just the utilities would be more strain than what she was accommodating now. No, she didn't know those numbers, but it would give him a break from paying it all outright. Plus, she wasn't having to pay rent in addition to it, "I've got it. Promise." It was true that it was sometimes difficult to live her life as a young adult living with her parents. She could have friends over, but she more often ended up elsewhere, as evidenced by her frequent nights spent at Gideon's…though she supposed it was hers now, too, "I don't even think they're going to be surprised. I don't mind living with them, but obviously I've spent a lot more time here than there recently." -- "It's not like you're going far," he offered. "A move across town is very manageable, and hopefully they won't get too lonely in their suddenly empty nest." "Just," and there was a playful grin on his features as he spoke, maybe to deflect anything like awkwardness, "leave a sock on the doorknob if you've got someone over for sexy times, yeah?" -- "They'll survive it. They might even celebrate it. They had an empty nest before I moved back home," Embry shrugged a little, already thinking about how long it might take her to pack between work and other obligations. Embry gave something of a snort into her drink, but grinned at him, "An unlikely occurrence, but noted. General text of courtesy if we're having anyone over, sex-related or otherwise? So, you know, I'm not sitting on the couch in pj's, stuffing my face with snack cakes when you bring someone in?" -- Though he was admittedly a little curious as to why Embry called it an unlikely occurrence, Gideon knew better than to ask why. It was absolutely not his business. "I think that's a perfectly reasonable idea," he nodded, "though now it may or may not be my resolution to catch you snack cake-handed. But I promise I won't try to do it if I've got one of my thoroughly nonexistent girlfriends in tow." -- She raised a brow at his comment of "thoroughly nonexistent girlfriends" though maybe he just wasn't ready to date yet after the move and everything that had preceded it. Embry had her own reasons for not dating and most of them began and ended with The Disappointment of Peter Southwell. The rest were the seemingly unreachable standards that Gideon himself had set. "Trust me. It is not an elusive sight. There's a bag of donettes and a pack of ho-hos in my car right now because it's not warm enough out to melt them," Embry admitted, though they were there for errant snacking purposes or comfort after a rough day at work, "I know we'll figure out things as we go, but those seem like some solid ground rules." -- "I look forward to the loft being your place to stash snack foods, instead of your car," Gideon added with a simple smile. "My pantry is your pantry, Em. Powdered donettes are my favorite, for the record." -- "I know I could have brought them in anyway, but mostly I didn't want any party-goers to find them," she admitted with a small grin, "The powdered ones are definitely superior to the rest. I mean, I like the chocolate ones, too, but…if you want some mildly chilled powdered donettes, I can run out to my car. I'll share." -- He couldn't help but laugh at that little admission, because, well, because he'd have hidden the good foods, too, before anyone else came over. "It's definitely tempting," Gideon admitted, with a playfully wistful sigh, "but it's just so far away, and we're already so comfortable here. Maybe for breakfast." -- "Breakfast I can handle," Embry agreed, smiling a little as she relaxed just a bit more on the couch, "We have a very comfortable couch. Very good for napping." She had to admit it was going to be nice to sleep more in an actual bed, though, "It might take me a few weeks to get everything actually packed up and settled, but I'll start on it tomorrow." -- He liked that we, however innocent it might have been. Gideon just grinned. "I'm glad you approve." The offer was open, of course, and he didn't expect that she'd be fully migrated over. "I'll help however I can, Em. Just say the word." -- "I wouldn't be sleeping on the couch nearly as often as I do if it wasn't to my liking," she promised. There was no substitute for good sleep, and Embry needed to be well rested with the job she did, especially. She grinned at his offer of help and nodded, "I'll let you know if I need assistance lugging my stuff around." Embry knew it would probably take a few weeks before she was fully integrated over to the loft, but she was now suddenly excited about this change, "You know, my resolution was going to be to get out to my own place, and I think this mostly counts since I won't be with my parents. So I've met my resolution in record time." -- "I definitely hired movers when I got the place," he admitted, "so it's probably only fair that I pay my dues and help lug around at least some of the heavy stuff." Glancing over with a little half grin, Gideon added, "Well, you're welcome." -- "Don't worry. I won't overload any of the boxes, but I do have some books to add to these shelves. I can also contribute a small hoard of mismatched dishes to the kitchen, which is desperately needed because there needs to be more than two coffee cups in the cabinet," she offered, though those were boxes still in her parents basement that hadn't likely been opened since she moved back from Philly. Embry wondered if it was cheating, and if she should come up with a new resolution, but it was a pretty great one to come true so quickly. -- The large built-in bookshelves were a favorite feature of his- though they were, to Embry's point, not nearly as full as they should have been. Still, he couldn't help the playful protest, "I don't see why, since there's never more than two people here drinking coffee." -- She rolled her eyes, smirking a little at him, "You're such a man. OK, maybe it's economical to only have one cup each and wash it after every use, but where is the fun in that? Spice up your life, Gideon. Get a coffee cup that changes colors that you only use on the weekend because it's fun. Or a travel mug that's got The Lion King on it so when you carry it into work, the kids get a big kick out of it. Sometimes it's the little things." -- "I'm sorry?" Gideon laughed through the question, his shoulders shaking with the amusement. "I didn't realize that was a byproduct of my Y chromosome. But I'll tell you what," he gestured over to Embry with his mostly-empty glass, "you buy 'em, I'll use' em." -- “I have plenty of coffee cups, but I’ll make sure to get a few travel mugs just for you,” she assured him, a small grin on her lips, “It’s definitely the Y. I’ve never met another woman that when you open her cupboards, there aren't at least four to six cups of any varying size or shape. That seems to be exclusively a guy thing. You’re not alone in it, but I promise you...having more than two coffee cups will be very nice.” -- "I have a feeling that coffee cups are the first of many Y-based deficiencies you'll be amending, in the coming months." Gideon downed the rest of his drink, and- with a playful groan- leaned forward so he could put the empty glass safely out of the way. -- "Living with a woman again is going to be life changing for you," she promised sagely, though she had no real frame of reference on if he'd ever had a female roommate or if the last women he'd lived with had been Clementine and Margot. "Just don't mess with my shampoo bars in the bathroom and we'll be fine. Promise," she could handle everything else and knew Gideon to be a considerate guy. She spent enough time here to know some of his habits already. She finished off her own drink and likewise stretched to place it on the table, but as she did so, she snagged the drawer on the table and secured the key inside which was, indeed, on an E keychain. She grinned as she sat up more properly, "Nice pick on the keychain." -- "I have no doubt." The last time Gideon had lived with anyone- minus the few months he'd moved back home to be with his parents during his mother's illness- had been in Boston, for undergrad. He'd lived with a woman he dated at the time, but it had never been meant to last. "I don't even know what a shampoo bar is," though he could, obviously, make an educated guess, "so I'm sure they'll be safe." Gideon did smile, at least, when Embry found the keychain. "I'm glad you like it. One of the nurse's kids was making them. Real pressed flowers and everything." -- "It will be in a little aluminum tin," she advised him with a small smile, though she knew he was smart enough to put together the clues to figure out what she was talking about. Embry used a lot of disposable items in her day to day at work for sanitary reasons, but she liked to cut back on her own personal plastic waste where possible. The blue and gold was beautiful, those florals delicate and bright, "Well, that makes it even better, then. It was good timing." -- Gideon raised his hand as if he still had a glass in it, and gestured to toast her once more. "To good timing." |