Work Text:
1.
Ryland couldn’t say exactly when his brain started registering intelligent discussion of the astrophage problem as white noise, but he could determine why. After eleven hours straight in the lab with only a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to break up the monotony, anyone else would’ve called it quits for the day. Ryland Grace, however, did not have a choice. When Eva Stratt, literally the most powerful person in the world, strolled into his laboratory with her two coffees and requested that he accompany her to an evening meeting, he couldn’t refuse. He tried. Her request quickly revealed itself to be a demand and he grudgingly shed his gloves and lab coat.
All he wanted was to take a quick, warm shower before collapsing into his small-to-medium-level comfy bed for the night. But no. Instead, he had followed Stratt into a war-strategy-room-turned-boardroom and found his seat on her right. Moments later, they were surrounded by eight of Stratt’s top scientists who were determinedly sharing their progress on the astrophage breeding issue. He understood why it was important him to be there, but unfortunately, his eyelids didn’t seem to give a crap about reason. It was already so late, and it was a Sisyphean task to keep opening them as they slowly and persistently drifted down toward his cheeks.
Maybe if I just close them for a minute, nobody will notice, he thought, finally resting his exhausted eyes. It was utter bliss.
“Dr. Grace?” A pause. Something jostled Ryland’s shoulder. Crap. “Dr. Grace, will you please present your recent research?” Stratt’s clipped German accent snapped Ryland back to reality in an instant. He jolted and looked at her, eyes wide with startled confusion. She kicked him under the table for good measure and gestured to the rest of the scientists.
“Right. The- uhh, the main problem right now is the scale of the operation,” he began, recalling bits and pieces of his thoughts on the problem. It wasn’t close to anything that might be described as eloquent, but as he continued, his points started to fall into place. To his left, Stratt’s blue eyes bore into him, scrutinizing. He felt like a bug (or an astrophage) under her microscope. He tried to keep talking until she looked satisfied.
As his inelegant ramble came to an end, the other scientists nodded and began to pick up the discussion again. With a small sigh, Ryland leaned back in his seat and went back to zoning out.
Something tapped the back of his hand where it rested on the mahogany table. He glanced over and watched as Stratt subtly placed one of her two large coffees within Ryland’s reach. She caught his eye and gave him a small nod before glancing down at the cup.
His mind jumped back to when she’d first brought him to the aircraft carrier. After the most terrifying experience of his life (barely an exaggeration, he was not built for fighter jet travel), he’d stepped onto the tarmac and asked her for something to swallow a motion-sickness pill with. Despite cradling two large coffees in her hands, she’d refused to share and kept both for herself. And he had been desperate then!
Now, Ryland gratefully accepted the gift and took a cautious sip. It was still hot, but not scalding. He usually took his coffee with cream and sugar, but he wouldn’t dare turn down such a generous offer from the most aloof person he knew.
The meeting crawled to an end and the coffee thankfully managed to keep Ryland awake. He wasn’t usually one to drink caffeine in the afternoon, much less at night, but the jittery alertness that he usually tried to avoid was serving a noble purpose. I need to thank her, he thought as he packed up his papers. When he looked up, however, she had already slipped away like a ghost into the night.
2.
As they were ushered into a discreet black SUV with tinted windows, Ryland sighed with relief. He had always hated airports. He couldn’t think of many places that were more overwhelming, what with the constant noise and never-ending rushing around. They had bigger problems right now, though. He looked over at Stratt, gauging her emotions. They were just a short car ride away from meeting the President of the United States to discuss support for Project Hail Mary. This was probably one of the most important meetings of the project so far, but no one would be able to tell by the look on Stratt’s face.
Disinterest? No, that wasn’t quite it. Ryland gazed at her as she leaned back against the leather headrest. Exhaustion seemed etched in the lines of her face. She closed her eyes and visibly relaxed, despite her upright posture. He couldn’t read anything from her neutral expression, anxious or otherwise. Ryland looked away, twiddling his thumbs.
In just half an hour, they would be talking to the president. He’d spent the whole flight trying to think of how not to embarrass himself in front of the head of his home country. For a few minutes, he tried to ease his nerves by concentrating on the world outside the window. Unfortunately, his brain just couldn’t help but try to form a plan.
“Hey, do you think-“ he turned to Stratt to confirm their conversational script for the fifteenth time that afternoon. Instantly, his words died in his throat when he realized that she was leaned back and slumped against the window. Her chest rose and fell slowly with deep, steady breaths. A strand of hair fell over her closed eye. Ryland didn’t mean to be weird, but he had never seen her look so… vulnerable. He kept staring for a moment.
It felt strangely sacred to see her asleep. She had never really rested in his presence before and it felt like a moment too peaceful to ruin with his repeated anxieties. Instead, he turned away, not wanting to stare too long. He willed his body and mind into relaxing too. He tried to keep his thoughts on Stratt, a warm feeling glowing in his chest. There was an odd sense of pride in knowing that she had felt comfortable enough to let her guard down with him.
They hit a bump in the road and immediately, Stratt shot upright. After a few slow blinks, her razor sharp focus was back, accompanied by the crease between her eyebrows. Ah, there she is, Ryland thought. He was overthinking things. Stratt didn’t acknowledge the moment at all, instead pulling out her ever-present tablet and checking emails. Soon, the car ride was over and Ryland had way bigger problems to worry about than Eva Stratt’s napping habits.
However, that night as he lay in a hotel bed next door to hers, he replayed the soft scene in his mind until he fell asleep.
3.
It wasn’t often these days that Eva Stratt had a quiet morning. Despite her hopes, this morning was no different. Ryland Grace stood half in the doorway of her office, assaulting her eyes with his obnoxiously yellow raincoat. She stifled the desire to roll her eyes as he asked “are you busy?”
“I am always busy. What do you need?”
“Okay, fair. I, uhh… well, okay. It’s not really important, I’m sorry to bother you-“
“You don’t bother me. What do you need?” She tried to keep her voice level, but she was somewhat curious now. She wondered if the rest of the crew had volunteered Ryland to ask her for something they wanted. It wouldn’t be the first time. He laughed a little.
“Look, uhh… I was wondering if I could maybe come sit in here and work? There’s just so many people around all the time and I really need to read this paper before I experiment on the-“
“You may. If you need, we can clear some desk space for you,” Eva said. “My only requirement is that you do not distract both of us by talking to me.”
Ryland did a mock salute and smiled. “No problem, boss.”
She expected him to sit in the chair on the other side of her desk, but when had Ryland Grace ever been predictable? Instead, he strolled right past her and sat on the floor with his back to the wall. He pulled his laptop out of his backpack and struggled out of his raincoat, settling in. Eva stared at him, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked up at her, smiling, before his expression fell.
“What?” he asked from the floor. His perplexed expression mirrored her own in its honesty.
“Why are you sitting there? I offered you the desk,” she replied.
“Oh, I prefer the floor,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world. He smiled. She tilted her head.
“Surely that is not comfortable.”
“It is! And I don’t get many chances to sit on the floor anymore without people looking at me weird.”
“I am looking at you weird.”
Ryland laughed. “You don’t count!” he protested, turning his attention back to his laptop.
Eva didn’t know whether to be honored or offended by his remark. She chose to ponder that dilemma later. There were crucial, potentially world-altering decisions to make right now.
As they both turned their attention to their work, Eva found herself quickly becoming used to Ryland’s presence. As she sent emails, conducted research, and read through files, she sunk into the comfort of clacking laptop keys and the occasional sniffle behind her. Although they did not speak, there was something… nice about not being alone. The hours passed with minimal interruption and Eva felt lighter than she had in a very long time.
The clock turned over to noon and her phone’s daily reminder to eat lunch popped up. Perhaps Ryland will be hungry and we will go to the mess hall together, Eva thought, strangely hopeful. She turned around to ask how things were progressing and was surprised to see Ryland leaning against her filing cabinet, fast asleep. His laptop had fallen halfway off of his lap and his glasses hung beneath his chin from one ear. His mouth was slightly open and Eva thought he might’ve even been drooling a bit. The whole picture was absurd but endearing and her face twisted into an expression of amusement.
She did not know whether to wake him up or allow him to remain sleeping. She watched him for a few moments before resolving to wake him up.
“Ryland,” she murmured into the comfortable silence, not wanting to startle him. In an instant, she realized that she’d used his first name. She didn’t know why. The intimacy of the scene was making her head strange.
“Dr. Grace,” she spoke, slightly louder this time. His eyebrows twitched and he closed his mouth, inhaling deeply. His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at her with a dazed expression. His lips curled into a soft smile for a second before his eyes widened and he realized where he was.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I did not mean to pass out on your floor like that! Did anyone come in?” he asked frantically. His face was flushed and his eyes were panicked. Eva just looked at him, amused. She shook her head.
“No one came in; I am the only one who saw you. I was going to see if you were hungry. It is noon,” she explained.
“Oh. Yeah, maybe some food would be a good idea,” he said, recovering his composure. He stretched and stood up, shooting Eva another one of his ridiculous, sheepish smiles. She couldn’t help but smile in return, letting affection seep into the cracks of her expression.
—
Eva had been having recurring nightmares. She would dream that she had failed. Earth would freeze over and fall, leaving not a single human but herself left. She would walk the streets of London, New York, and Hong Kong alone, witnessing the lifeless corpse of the old world she couldn’t save. The silence in her dreams was deafening, and the stillness was only broken by a chilled wind sweeping across the landscape.
Sometimes, there were bodies. Thin frames of people, long since starved to death. Sometimes, she saw the bodies of her crew, piled high. Tonight, her subconscious took a particular interest in the corpse of Ryland Grace. On the abandoned deck of her aircraft carrier, Ryland’s body lay covered in snow. His glasses still hung from his face in that ridiculous way and his bright yellow rain jacket stood out against the white of the deck. His skin was paler than the gray sky above them and his eyes, still open, seemed to follow her every movement as she approached. She did not think as she reached out to touch his hand. In an instant, his freezing, lifeless fingers clasped around her wrist. She screamed.
She was breathing hard. She gripped the comforter on her bed and pulled it up to cover her mouth. Her eyes burned and she couldn’t tell if it was tears or exhaustion. For weeks, she had prayed for God to take away the night terrors, but it had been years since he’d answered her. Instead, she found solace in the rocking of the ship and the occasional sound of footsteps passing by her door.
4.
Eva gazed absently out the small window of her jet as the pilot taxied and prepared for takeoff. To say it had been a long day would be understatement to an absurd degree. Within twenty hours, she had been put on trial for pirating every piece of copyrighted information ever published, met with nearly every member of the United Nations, and sorted out most of the logistics for taking over the Baikonur launch facility. She and Ryland had been put through meeting after meeting, and she could sense him becoming more weary with each event.
Eva was feeling the stress too (she had been the one on trial, after all), but she was much more adjusted to managing her anxiousness. For the past two hours of their work, she could feel Ryland becoming tangibly more twitchy. She wished she had some way to help him, but likely the only solution was to get back to base and rest.
Although she did not regret bringing him along to any of the functions, she did feel strangely guilty. It hadn’t been strictly necessary for him to attend any of today’s escapades with her, but she had requested for him to take his whole day off and accompany her regardless. If she thought about why for too long, it filled her with dread. She could not afford attachments. For this reason, she tried to avoid pondering when and why Ryland Grace had become such a comfort to her. There was, of course, the scientist element. He could explain things to her in a way that made sense, which equipped her to make the wisest decisions possible. She knew, though, that it was more than that.
Even now, sitting next to him on their- her private jet, she felt warmer in his presence. Much warmer. She yawned. Sometime during her musings, her eyes had closed. She startled, her eyes opening.
Oh god, what am I doing? Eva’s brain caught up with her body and she realized that she had been leaning on Ryland’s shoulder. She sat up promptly, opening her mouth to apologize.
Ryland was already smiling at her. She felt her face flush and began to turn away from him when he spoke.
“It’s been a long day, huh?” His words slurred slightly with lack of sleep. She laughed mirthlessly.
“You might say that.” There was a long pause.
“Were you comfortable?” Ryland’s voice was low, a murmur against the dull roar of the jet engines.
She had been. But she could not simply admit that. But god, what she would do for just an hour of sleep…
Ryland must’ve read the admission on her face. He lifted his arm and smiled gently, as if coaxing her into his orbit. She contemplated for a brief moment. There were several reasons not to lean in, not to allow herself this vulnerability, this weakness. But he was so warm.
Gravity seemed to pull her in until she was resting on his shoulder once again. He slowly lowered his arm, wrapping it around her, holding her close. She felt him release a long-held breath and gently rest his own head on top of hers. He ran his thumb in a small, repetitive motion over her shoulder and it lulled her to sleep in only a few moments.
She slept dreamlessly for the whole two hour plane ride, not even waking when they were landing.
One of the jet attendants came and politely woke the pair. As they groggily came to, they exchanged glances. Silently, Eva wished that nothing would change between them. She searched Ryland’s eyes and they seemed to whisper reassurances in a language only they spoke. His arm stayed around her, gentle but present, until they stepped off the plane.
The memory of him, loosely holding her, warm and alive kept her nightmares at bay for the night. She woke up in the morning in the same clothes from yesterday, her makeup smudged and her hair tangled. She didn’t care. For the first time in months, maybe years, she felt rested.
5.
Things had been different since the move to the Baikonur facility. The pressure was increasing exponentially as launch day approached in just a few months. Eva and Ryland had been working nonstop. Eva was conflicted. Although it was satisfying to be done with the constant bureaucracy, the stakes were so much higher now. One mistake from anyone could ruin everything they’d spent years working for.
And on top of this, Eva was struggling to sleep again. The final six weeks on the aircraft carrier had seen much improvement in the way of her sleep. Compared to earlier months, her nightmares had been more tame, and she had learned how to soothe herself back into rest whenever she startled awake.
Now, though, her dreams had returned with full force, leaving her lying anxiously awake most nights, unable to relax enough to drift off again. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the lifeless eyes of her astronauts, scientists, and crew. She was worried that her exhaustion would cause her to make a mistake, which in turn made her more anxious and exhausted. She knew that this was not sustainable, but she didn’t have time to find a solution.
This morning was different, however. It was halfway through their third week in Baikonur and Eva was feeling the physical effects of her weariness. Her body was being dragged toward the earth and every movement was a fight against gravity. Her eyes refused to focus on the emails she tried to read, and the world seemed to spin around her.
I need another cup of coffee, she thought, gripping her desk as she stood.
Her vision swam and she tried to maintain balance. She thought she heard a strange sound, perhaps a knock? but she couldn’t register anything but the rush of heat washing over her. She was sick, burning up, on the floor.
The last thing she saw before slipping into unconsciousness was the bright yellow raincoat of Ryland Grace in her doorway.
—
“Stratt!”
His mind barely registered what he was witnessing, but his body didn’t hesitate to rush to Stratt’s aid. Ryland dropped to the ground beside her and tried to gently maneuver her into his lap. His mind was racing now as he touched her face. She was pale, even more so than usual, and her skin was cold against his hand. She was still breathing, but showed no signs of consciousness. He was full blown panicking now. He took a deep breath, trying to evaluate his options. Think, Ryland, think! You’re not a doctor, so maybe you should call one! he thought. There was a medical team on site for things like this. He just needed to call them!
As Ryland contemplated how to move Stratt without hurting her so he could reach for the desk phone, she inhaled deeply. “Eva!” he exclaimed. Her eyelids twitched for a moment before opening. Her eyes searched, unfocused, over Ryland’s face. Then, they closed again and she leaned against him. What am I supposed to do?!
“Stratt, please. You have to wake up! I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t help you, I-“
“Shhhh…”
“Please wake up, Eva,” he murmured into the silent room. She did not stir, but color returned to her face and her breaths were deeper than before.
Is she sleeping? Ryland thought. For the first time, he noticed the dark rings below her eyes. If she just needed to sleep, maybe they could get to her trailer first? He gently shook her again. A small noise of complaint resonated deep in her throat as she blinked her eyes open again.
“Stratt, I need you to get up, please. You can keep sleeping, but not here. Let me take you back to your room,” he said, trying to keep the desperate edge out of his voice. He knew she wouldn’t want to be seen like this. I should never be seeing her like this, he thought. His mind railed against the image of the most powerful person in the world, collapsed so vulnerably on the floor. Her reputation was far too important to her. Anybody could walk in and see them right now, and he knew she would never approve in other circumstances.
He helped her sit upright, keeping his arm around her in case she passed out again. She glanced around, her eyes finally seeming to comprehend their situation. She took a few deep breaths before allowing him to pull her up. No words were exchanged between them as Ryland walked her to the trailer. A few people tried stopping them in the hallways to ask Stratt questions about the mission, but Ryland tried his best to smoothly deflect, saying they had an important meeting to get to.
When they finally arrived at Stratt’s trailer, Ryland lingered for a moment as she unlocked the door and pushed inside. He stayed in the doorway, about to ask if he could get her anything, when she gripped his wrist firmly.
“Will you stay? Just for a few minutes…” Her voice trailed off, slightly strained, and Ryland paused for a second to really look at her. As he took in the sight of her bloodshot eyes, dark circles, and weary expression, he discovered that he wanted to do anything to ease the exhaustion painted across her face.
He stepped inside and closed the door. “Yeah, of course. Want me to get you anything else?”
Stratt shook her head. She kept a tight grip on Ryland’s wrist as she led him to the bedroom. He glanced around briefly at the vacant-looking space. The bedroom was the only part of Stratt’s trailer that looked lived in. Her bedsheets sat in disarray, and clothes lay scattered across the floor. She didn’t seem to care as she crawled into the queen sized bed. Ryland hesitantly followed, waiting to see if she would change her mind and kick him out.
She neither pulled him closer nor pushed him away as they lay in her bed together. She simply held onto his wrist, fingers rested over his pulse point, and fell unceremoniously back into sleep. Ryland told himself he would leave after ten minutes, just long enough to make sure she was really asleep. However, as the minutes passed, he realized that he felt relaxed for the first time in two weeks. No, he was in no real rush to leave the quiet warmth of this strange situation.
+1
It had been a week since Stratt passed out on the floor of her office. The launch was creeping closer, but Ryland was distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about The Nap.
He had stayed for an hour and a half before carefully slipping out of her grasp and her trailer. She had been sleeping soundly as he placed a glass of water on her nightstand and pulled the bedsheet up over her shoulder. He found himself stalling as he moved to leave.
I don’t want to stop helping her, he realized. It was a stupid thought to have. He helped her all the time! The past few years of his life had been defined by being at Eva Stratt’s right hand, doing anything she asked for the purpose of saving the world. Maybe that was the problem. Everything they did was for a big, maybe impossible task. Just this once, though, he’d gotten to take care of her. Just her. And it had worked! Hopefully.
As the week passed, he found himself unable to stop trying to take care her. He’d started carrying all of their files to demonstrations so she could focus on speaking to others and answering questions while they walked. He’d gotten a stack of sticky notes and took to labeling the piles of documents on her desk, organizing them before she had to sign everything. He’d even decided to become the guy bringing coffee to her office each morning. Black, no cream or sugar. Ryland thought it was vile, but it was what she liked. Although she had raised her eyebrows in surprise the first time, she’d taken it with a small smile. Yes!
They didn’t acknowledge The Nap, but Ryland could feel the suggestion of it in every one of their interactions. The day after, it was glaringly obvious to Ryland how much better she felt. He wondered if anyone else could tell how much lighter she looked.
In the days that followed, though, he could see the fatigue seeping back into her features. He really didn’t want to see her faint again, and it was making him anxious to think of her passing out when he wasn’t around. The image of her unconscious body on the floor plagued him.
It didn’t help that Ryland barely got any sleep these days either. If he wasn’t in the lab late into the night, he would just lie awake in bed, running numbers in his head. If he turned his thoughts to his old life, he would miss his kids and get sad. If he thought of his soon-to-be-in-space friends, he would get even more sad. If he thought of Stratt, well. Those feelings were complicated, to say the least. Regardless, they weren’t exactly nice, warm, cozy feelings that would help him to sleep.
Not anymore, anyway. Now, when he thought of Stratt, a deep pit of worry sat in his stomach. Ever since he’d led her to bed (not like that!) after she passed out, he craved the comfort of laying in bed next to her again. It felt ridiculous to miss his boss so much, but they had become something… different. As the project progressed, they had turned into a sort of duo, working close on two sides of the Petrova Problem. He had come to trust her, and she’d kept him around, occasionally rewarding him for his loyalty with a soft smile or small laugh.
But it was so much worse than that! He had always liked pleasing her, wanting her approval from the day they met. She had that effect on people. But ever since The Nap in her bed, he couldn’t stop worrying about her in every regard.
He was doing it right now! Tossing and turning in his stupid bed, wondering if Eva was doing the same in her trailer. He hoped she wasn’t, but he had no way of knowing. He wished he could just go over there and crawl into bed next to her, let her hold onto him again until she was knocked out.
Ryland sat up. Could I do that? he wondered. Part of his brain told him that it was a stupid idea and could get him in so much trouble if he woke her up. The other part of his brain whispered that she was probably lying awake too, tossing around in frustration as her quick mind refused to let go of the day’s problems.
I guess it couldn’t hurt to check on her… It was the last thought Ryland had before slipping out of his bed. Grabbing his key off the floor, he quietly exited his trailer and walked down the row to hers.
A wave of relief washed over him at the sight of lamplight in the window of her bedroom. She’s awake too! his mind supplied, his heart beating a little faster. He knocked on the door quietly, just in case. A long moment passed. He knocked again, slightly harder this time, and the door opened immediately.
Eva Stratt looked up at him blankly. Ryland realized immediately that something was wrong. Her eyes were red and her cheeks looked damp and flushed. Ryland pushed down the instant desire to pull her into a hug. Instead, he just stared for a minute like an idiot. Whatever he had planned on saying (he had no plan) died on his tongue as he took in her disheveled appearance.
“What do you need?” Eva asked, her voice wavering slightly. Ryland wondered if anyone else would’ve noticed. He really needed to pull it together. He cleared his throat.
“Are you okay?” That wasn’t what he meant to ask. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and closed her eyes for a moment.
“Yes. What do you need, Ryland?” She looked at him. Her eyes seemed to be asking for something, but he couldn’t tell what.
“Okay, uhh. Look. I can’t stop worrying about you after last week, alright? I can tell you’re not sleeping and neither am I, and I think maybe if I can just help you, I’ll feel better and then we can both sleep,” he tried to explain, stumbling over his words. Eva sighed.
“There is nothing you can do to help me. Goodnight,” she said, her voice lacking conviction. Regardless, she began closing the door on Ryland and he reached out to catch her wrist first. She froze.
“Please, Eva… I think, maybe, I need this. I’ve barely slept this week and I don’t know why, but I think I need to be near you before I can relax.” He sped through the words, hoping to a god he didn’t believe in that she understood.
She stared at him for a long minute. He slowly released his hold on her wrist, realizing with a sinking feeling that he had gone too far. As he started to retreat, however, Eva grabbed his hand. Silently, she pulled him inside, locking the door and guiding him back to her bedroom. Ryland wanted to weep with joy. He pointedly ignored the pile of tissues next to her bed as she pulled the bedroom door shut. She gazed up at him.
“Before you agree to this, you must know something. I may wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. Don’t worry, it is normal, but it will not be ideal for you. Do you still wish to sleep here?” Her voice betrayed the vulnerability of the statement and Ryland found himself once again wanting to pull her into a hug.
“Yeah, of course I still want to. Is it nightmares? Is that what’s keeping you up all night?” he asked, the words spewing from his mouth in a waterfall. Eva nodded. Ryland didn’t know how to respond, so he stayed quiet.
They crawled into her bed together, keeping some distance, like before. Once again, Eva maintained contact by clinging tight to his wrist. The contact was warm and familiar, and Ryland couldn’t help but smile.
Within fifteen minutes, they were both completely out.
…
A scream split the night in two and Ryland bolted upward. For a split second, he had no idea where he was. His mind caught up quick though, and he reached over to where Eva was curled up, breathing heavy. He shook her urgently and she cried out again before jolting awake. They stared at each other for a single moment before Ryland moved to hold her. She clung to his shirt and hair, scrambling for purchase and burying her fingers in both. She sobbed into his shoulder and he found himself mirroring her. Together, they were a shaking, clinging, weeping mess. But they were together.
A few minutes passed before their crying slowed. Eva moved to lay down again, pulling Ryland down with her. He let her arrange his arms around her until they were essentially cuddling. She’s so cold, he thought, pressing a little closer. She sighed quietly and shifted into the warmth of his chest. She mumbled something completely unintelligible and Ryland smiled.
“Goodnight, Eva,” he murmured, falling into sleep once more.
Neither of them stirred for the rest of the night.