Daeson helped her up and watched her go about removing her contacts, and how slow moving and unsteady she was. Her speech was broken, as though she was tired, or simply too stressed out. He murmured a "You're welcome," when she thanked him and listened with concern. He'd never senn Clarise so frazzled; she'd always seemed like a strong, intelligent, and confident woman who could hold her own against the very senior scientists who kept him down. He'd always admired her, and it was unsettling to see her like this.<br/><br/>Normally he would have explained what was going on with the device, and walked her through sorting it out, but this time it was different. She didn't need his help and instruction-- not for that, anyway. He gently took the machine parts from her hand and placed them down on the counter. He'd read that day's newspaper, and had a suspicion he knew what was troubling her.<br/><br/>He smiled sympathetically and took her hands, patting her knuckles gently. Azurians were very tactile, and sometimes Daeson forgot that the touching that would be normal for him could make an Aurian uncomfortable. "Clarise, why don't you go home? I'll cover for you. If the higher ups find out I'll take the blame. They won't fire me, anyway. They like using me as a servant too much." He paused. "They should really get more people onto your team. More Aurians need to see what we're doing here... Then you calling out wouldn't be so much of a problem." He patted her hand again. "Well, anyway. Go home, Clarise."<br/><br/>He stepped back, assuming she would take his offer, and started putting the parts to the machine back together, finding a transformer to replace the broken one. He worked methodically, as he'd built these devices many times before. It would be simple to explain it to Clarise, but perhaps that would be a better thing to do the next day, when she'd be in a better state of mind. Science is no good when rushed, or done under duress.