Owner	Pose
Susan Richards	There was a /lot/ to be done, usually. The world, the universe, the galaxy...! Well, it had to be saved on a near daily basis, and a lot of those saves happened quietly, here in this lab. And for the most part, a lot of that was done by the great mind of one Reed Richards.     And Susan was a lab assistant - and by this point in time, she had enough knowledge in her mind to dwarf many other doctors in various fields.     But any good lab generates a lot of busywork. And Susan was on top of that busywork, right now even.     Laboratory notebooks filled with meticulously detailed notes were organized on her little desk, appropriately labeled and dated, and one of those was opened, her fingers scanning down those pages. The question of the moment had been: a particular quirk of energy had been detected in deep space, and it was yet of unknown type or origin.     Which meant that unless they wanted to travel light years out to examine it directly, they had to rely on the reports that were second hand of second hand. This government dealt with that government, which was heard by this Imperium, which our government figured out by who knows how...     So that top secret information fell here.     Sue was doing a literature review of sorts, looking through old data, while the government data? That was set aside for Reed to puruse. If he wasn't already.
Reed Richards	Examining government records wasn't nearly as frustrating as it may have sounded, as there were two types of government documents. There were ones produced by and for politicians, and there were ones produced by and for scientists. And science was universal. It was unaffected by language. It was pure. And Reed Richards found a certain amount of comfort in that. If he dropped a ball with an Earth-type gravity, no matter what planet, and baring any other forces affecting the results, he knew that it would fall at 9.807 meters per second squared. His lab had been decorated with some festivities for the Holidays. There was a tree in one area, garland, lights, which could all be easily turned off should the need arise for an experiment, and other festive touches. The traditional twelve days of Christmas only ended on the 5th of January. To that end, even Reed had gotten into the spirit. While he wore his Fantastic Four uniform, as he often did, instead of his white lab coat, today he had on... well, blue and white. Okay, so he was still Reed. Over top of his uniform, he had on a blue sweater, which was a near match for the blue of the Fantastic Four. The neck was white, as was the hem at his waist and wrists. In between, there were snowflakes, and other designs. It was a typical 'ugly Christmas sweater'. This one was for the Orville, a television series that Reed loved. It had the word, 'the Orville' across the chest, images of the ship, and the various branches of service of the Planetary Union. He was currently sat at his desk, a glass of orange juice on the side, as well as French toast, barely touched, bacon, also barely touched, sausage, though it seemed he had gobbled up most of the fruit that had been part of his breakfast. This wouldn't be that bad, except that his breakfast had been sitting there for hours, as it was now the late afternoon. Oh Reed.
Susan Richards	And as for Sue Richards? Well, she nearly always wore her unstable molecule suit underneath whatever else she was wearing. With the way her powers worked, if she had to go invisible at a drop of a hat - don't laugh, there's been many a 'normal' day where she has had to do just that - she wouldn't be a walking set of clothing. So when here in the lab, she tended to prefer wearing just that. Although in solidarity, she too wore a Christmas sweater - a green one, with a more fantasy motif on it. The uniform clung to her curves rather well, but she did wear a lab coat of her own over that, even as she finds the entry that she remembered. A waveform with similar patterns that they encountered many, many years ago. Reed probably had that information somewhere in his mind, but in Susan's mind? He's probably forgotten more than Tony Stark knows. With a post-it note, she writes 'similar energy in nearby quadrant?' with a Sharpie, setting it on the page. This book was picked up, and moved to set on the desk nearish Reed. She would likely clear the Christmas decorations out on January 5th, on the dot, but Sue was used to the workaholic nature of Reed, especially now. Which is why she had made a sandwich earlier in the day. So when she sets the lab binder down next to him, she picks up the plate of food, moving to the part of the lab where food was generally stored - away from everything, sterile still - able to be locked down if necessary. Literature and data review was low danger, though, so there was less worry about that. Pouring a fresh cup of coffee from the machine in there, she fetches the sandwich - havarti and sliced chicken on white with mustard and mayo - from the fridge, and places it on a fresh plate, moving back to Reed's desk while he pores over the materials. She announces herself again with a click of that plate on his desk, before she slides into his field of view, gently taking his hand and moving it to the coffee mug to transfer it to him. "Take thirty seconds to eat a sandwich?" she says. "Take it from me, your fantastic brain doesn't work as well when it doesn't have the calories to keep it fueled," she says, a knowing little smile on her lips.
Reed Richards	The sound of the binder being set on his desk was noted. Reed could smell Susan's perfume, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, and any other scents that she might have applied since she woke up. Her presence was noted. It was always noted. He just didn't always show a visible reaction to it, but as with all things, for every action, there was an equal and opposite reaction. He could even smell the sharpie's ink, dried enough to close the book, but not enough that the scent had dissipated beyond what a human could sense from a short distance. He noted the plate of food being relocated. He was rather observant. The problem was that most of what he observed as noted and immediately discarded in favor of whatever held the greatest part of his attention, whatever piqued his interest, or whatever he was trying to remain focused on, despite more interesting alternatives. By the time she had returned, he was busily looking through the binder she had given him, nodding his head up in down, agreeing with notes she had made through sharpie, highlights, dog ears, or anything else that he could find. When she came into his direct field of field, rather than the sides, his eyes immediately grazed her, admiring those curves, and relieved that there were no obvious signs of distress. He smiled at the feel of her delicate fingers against his own. He took the cup of coffee, shifting the weight to his own hand. "Thank you, Susan." She looked after him so well. "Oh, I suppose I can spare more than thirty seconds to spend with you, perhaps even forty-five," he said in jest. "It is New Year's Day, and it would be a bit premature to ignore my resolution at this stage."
Susan Richards	Sue did have a kinda 'standard' scent. Her shampoo - fancy and floral, and she typically applied a little perfume. A rose-heavy scent that was subtle more than anything else. And yes, Reed's attention could be focused, and Sue held a mighty power to focus that attention when she felt it most necessary... usually for Reed's own health. "Fourty five?" she says, one of her brows quirking upwards. "Reed - Christmas was a few days ago. It's a New Year, after all," she says. She was deliberately not talking about the anomaly right now. Because the instant he began thinking about that again, all bets were off. And she had these moments to get him to focus on eating, and make sure he was alright, mentally. And to be fair, it was good for her too, these little micro-breaks where the science could be set aside for humanity. She releases the coffee, but her fingers light upon the back of his hand. She was wearing her ring at the moment, although the precious nature of that particular piece of jewelry meant that she often squirreled it away here, before rushing off to any sort of danger. But right now, there was no danger. As previously mentioned... that often could change at the drop of a hat. "What is your resolution? I know what mine was," she says. There wasn't a chair on that side of the desk, but there was the desk. So she slides onto the corner that was bereft of binder or other notes, the attention of her brilliantly blue eyes on Reed's own. "Although I might hazard a guess that it is 'eat a little healthier'?" she says. "I've seen what happens when you are left to cook for yourself," she lightly teases in return.
Reed Richards	Reed had once written a paper on why 'less is more', scientifically speaking, back when he was first dating Sue Storm. She held a great sway over him, from then, and it had never diminished. She just wielded it like a scalpel, which in turn, kind of proved his thesis to be correct. "I give two minutes, for you and your gallant crew?" Now he was quoting Star Trek III: The Search for Spock? This must be a New Year. The anomaly was still ever present in his mind, but it was currently in the back, rather than the front. That position was now occupied by his lovely wife. "I set a small resolution, in the hopes that it would prove easier to fulfil, though a small change can and often does result in profound results. I resolved to spend more time with my family." And though there was no secondary chair, Sue was most welcome to slide onto the corner of his desk. He looked up into her brilliant blue eyes, with his own, somewhat muted, brown ones. "Perhaps I should have made a second one. To eat all meals at the dinner table, barring exceptional circumstances, which will be at your discretion?" He knew himself too well. If he had an out, he would end up eating almost all his meals in his lab, or allow their aroma to spread to his nostrils while he barely consumed any of it.
Susan Richards	Sue's hand - ungloved at the moment, comes up to her chest, the delight obvious on her face as she smiles. She did wear cosmetics as well - a more bold scarlet for the lips, shadow, blush in combination with the massive work she always had to do on her hair. Just because she did Science didn't mean that she couldn't keep her hair amazing! Although it was quite a sacrifice of time. When his resolution turns out to be more serious, that joking mannerism leaves her a bit, her eyes half closing as she looks more fervently down towards him. "That wouldn't be a small change, Reed," she says. Coffee hand was ignored, her right hand goes to settle on the non-coffee-bearing one. "Whenever there isn't a problem that requires your devout attention," she says. "And I'll make certain that you know what is what. But even then..." she says. "I think even small breaks from time to time, can only help focus. It does for me, but for you..." she pauses. "Do you feel it helps you?" she asks, with a cant of her head, her attention full on him. If she does manage to get his free hand, she squeezes there. She appreciated his resolution.
Reed Richards	Seeing a reaction such as that, with Sue's hand coming up to her chest, the delight obvious for all to see, was quite moving, even for someone who was ostensibly as 'cold' and clinical as Reed. He knew he wasn't the warmest or outgoing of people. He wasn't as bad as say a fictional Sheldon Cooper, but he was someone who spent much of his time in isolation. He skipped several grades where most students learn social skills. He had always been somewhat deficient in it, no matter how many years passed, or how much he loved his family. "All things are relative," he said, as her free hand went to his non-coffee-bearing one. The one with the coffee set it down on a coaster, freeing it up. He placed the other hand on top of hers, sandwiching it between his soft fingertips. He had never done what many would consider a 'hard day's work' in his life, so his skin was soft to the touch. "I trust you, implicitly, and I trust myself to veer back into work, at every opportunity." He was smart enough to understand their dynamics, even if he may not have entirely understood the reasons behind it, what made her Sue, and he Reed. He was only regimentally familiar with psychology, which meant he likely knew as much as someone who had just graduated, but no real world experience. "Helps is such a subjective thing. It resists quantification. But, such as I understand it, I feel that all time spent with you, helps." Perhaps she knew it, perhaps she refused to admit it, but deep down, if Sue were ever to ask him, he would retire as a scientist, and spend the rest of his days with her, on a beach, doing nothing... and no doubt have a psychotic episode at some point due to a severe lack of scientific challenge.
Susan Richards	It was helpful that Sue had spent so much time with him. To her, the lack of expression sometimes was a benefit. It was comforting in a great many ways, and sometimes, when the ice cracked, and one of his emotions managed to get to the surface? That was a beautiful thing to experience, made all the more so by the rarity. So the smile on her features reflects that. Her own hands were soft, nails slightly long, but appropriately manicured. And psychology was not Sue's education, but... she understood it probably innately better than she might otherwise think. It must have been those grades she did not skip. "Not everything in life can be measured and sorted," says Sue. "But for those things that can be, you have no peer, Reed Richards," she says. A pause more. She would never do such a thing to him. Even if he should live so long that his mind might slip or her own, she might always want him to stay in the lab. It's where he thrived, his happy place. And she couldn't live with herself, taking that challenge away from him. "I know the children would like it. They understand..." She hoped they did, at least. But as best as one could. "...but they would like interacting with you. Franklin, Valeria... both could keep up in the lab with you," she says. Mostly.
Reed Richards	Familiarity breeds affection. No one knew Reed Richards as well as Sue did. Not his children, not his best friend, and not Johnny. Sue saw him at his best, his worst, in public, in private, and in all the positions in between those stages. He had emotions, he just showed them in an unconventional way, most of the time. Something as simple as a lifted eyebrow, in a certain way, could convey his feelings to someone as alert to it as Sue was. "We'll agree to disagree," he offered when she informed him that not everything in life can be measured and sorted. He certainly did his best to disprove that hypothesis. He smiled at the compliment, though it was a soft one. He did not seek praise, and he was humble when it was applied to him. If anything, most of the time he was embarrassed by the fuss people would sometimes make. The only exception was when he and his family were being disrespected. Then, he would absolutely fill the 'smartest man in the world' shoes, and lean heavily into it until his family was no longer under threat. "They are always welcome." They really were. Unless he was 'busy' and needed to concentrate without distractions, but those situations were few and far between. Reed had programmed his lab to only lock when no member of the Fantastic Four was present in their portion of Four Freedoms Plaza, though he could manually lock and unlock it as well. Standing up, he took a step towards her, so that his body brushed against her knees as she sat on the edge of his desk. He looked thoughtful, "none of this cannot wait," and he gestured with his head to the binder, the notes, and his terminal. "What would you most like to do, in the entire world, this one, or any other you would care to name, right now?"
Susan Richards	And the converse was true - even - especially if it didn't seem like Reed was watching. Private, public - happy, sad, intensely joyful and ravenously angry and petty - Reed saw it all, and some part of him likely even noted it. Although sometimes... Sue wondered if it registered. And yes, she knew what she was signing up for, and she felt like it would be easy, but sometimes, it was hard. Really, really hard. But as they grew older, her swings of feeling were coming less frequently, and he seemed to becoming more aware of the other things in life rather than hard science. She was fine - esctatic really - with these changes. "Really, Reed?" she says, the play returning to her voice. "How ~happy~ am I, right now?" she says, her eyelids half closing, shading her gaze with a coyness as he comes up to a stand. She had one leg folded over the other as she sat, her eyes drawing up to him. He wasn't wrong. The anomaly had been there... possibly for centuries now. And whatever it was... just because we were just now learning about it? It would probably outlive them all. "I'll make sure they know that. You might never get peace in this lab again," she says. That wasn't true. Sue probably would... meter access to the lab during more fervent projects. She was a lab assistant on paper, but really... It was more a manager, in practice. His question surprises her, though, honestly surprises her. He can see that playfulness flee her face with that surprise, her eyes popping wide open, and blinking rapidly. Her head tilts, and she lifts her chin up towards him. "Lunch," she says. Was it the thing she wanted to do the most, right now? No, but it would be nice. Very, very nice, and something that had been rare, recently. "Somewhere... not nice, but not fast food. You and I, and whichever friends or children want to go. Someplace... casual. Friendly," she says. "A Chili's, an Applebees, and for an hour, just... be us. A family. A couple. Whatever it turns out to be," she says. Date night was another matter, but that was something she insisted on.
Reed Richards	"Really," he replied, though while hers was playful, his sounded more matter of factly... to anyone else. Though there was a certain lilt in his voice, a different tone, barely perceptible, but still present. He looked at her, a little confused by her rhetorical question, though her body language was becoming ever more playful, coy, and he watched her eyes close halfway, putting more of that eye shadow on display. A small part of him was happy to see how much he had thrown her off with his surprising offer, though most of him was sad to see the playfulness abandon her. He couldn't have it both ways. Either she was being coy and seductive, or he was flipping the script. They could not co-exist. "Lunch it is then," though even he suspect that it was not the one thing she most wanted to do right now. "Somewhere, not nice," he put emphasis on the 'not nice' portion, giving her a curious glance at that, "but not fast food," which he generally tried to avoid. There was limited nutritional value in fast food, though even he couldn't help but admit that he did, now and then, appreciate a McDonald's French fry. Slipping his arms around her, having to stretch his arms to do that, he rubbed up and down her back, through the lab coat, the sweater, and her uniform. She was in many layers. "I have heard some good things about a new Vlatavan restaurant on the 10th Aveue." Today was her day, a family outing, just them, he was content no matter what. He was married to the woman of his dreams. He was happy.