[She clings to him, struck by a sense of uncomfortable familiarity. Surely there were times when she was like this with Grandpa. But thinking that right now doesn't help her feel better at all.]
[She hopes desperately that Vimes won't disappear while she's holding onto him. So far, he still seems very real, very there. After a while her sobs peter out into sniffles, and she loosens her grip on him, though she doesn't make any move otherwise.]
Me too, [he says, and unwraps one arm to clumsily open up the thermos one handed. It takes some doing to take the cup bit off the top and to pour the tea in one handed. He ends up spilling a bit (the majority of it on his hand), but at least most of it made it into the cup.]
Here. Drink some of this. [The next command comes almost automatically, from some unconscious voice in the back of his head that he's hazily identified as his wife lecturing him from dimensions or worlds or quantums away.] Blow first.
[She watches as he opens the thermos, wincing a bit in sympathy as it spills on his hand. Hot tea and skin don't go well together.]
'nks.
[She obeys, blowing on the tea to cool it and taking a cautious sip. It's still a bit too hot, but it still feels nice going down and it's sweet. So she waits a moment and then sips again.]
[Now that her tiny hands are well wrapped around her cup of tea, Vimes busies himself with opening the carton of the curry. He slides it in front of her and sticks the plastic fork into it. It's not too healthy, but it's hot and soothing. At least, it's what Vimes usually eats whenever he's feeling particularly torn up about something; it tastes like home.]
After you're done with your tea, you should try to eat something, [he instructs. He's about to say how if she can only force a little bit down right now, she can put the rest in the icebox and heat it over the stove for later... but then remembers how small she is.
Maybe he'll write a note to Handmaiden a little later, say he's going to stay here during his shift. There's nothing right about leaving two little girls alone, although he's sure others will be coming to visit her soon. He wraps one arm around her again, and rests his other elbow on the table to prop his head up on his hand. He's rubbish with words, but somehow silence is inefficient.]
It's not much of a comfort, I know, but the thing about people disappearing is... well, it happens. More often than any of us would like, which is to say that it happens in the first place. But taking a page out of your book - [a hopelessly optimistic one, he adds in the privacy of his own mind] - at least we get to meet them at all.
[She isn't especially hungry, but she does know that she ought to eat or she'll be hungry later, and the curry smells heartier than a meal of peanut butter crackers would be. She takes another swallow of tea and carefully puts down the thermos cup on the table.]
Mm-hm. She was a really good friend. [But she's worried, still. And she would have liked to know her for longer.] I just wanna know...
[Right, she already said that. She reaches out and takes a bite of the curry.] What is this?
[He ignores her questions, since he doesn't really have any answer.]
It's curry. Klatchian, [he says, somewhat surprised that she's never tried it before. Then, realizing once again that she's not from his world, he adds,] Foreign food, more or less. It'll warm you up, at least.
[Yeah, she knows there aren't answers. She wishes there were, but they don't know them yet.]
Oh. 'Kay.
[She eats it more or less automatically. Now that the food is in front of her she's feeling hungry. A couple of forkfalls drop off, but she just catches them and eats them too.]
I'll take you to the stall one day. They're very into all that vegetarian stuff there. They even had this one thing with just spinach and cheese.
[Which he didn't get because it looked a bit terrifying to him. Mucky yellow stuff, that's the key.
He sits in silence and watches Krile eat, feeling rather happy about the fact that she's actually eating. He was worried that she was so sad that she'd starve herself, which is even worse in a tiny body.
After it looks like she's winding down a bit, he remembers that he had brought her birthday present.]
Oh yeah. It's a bit late, and I suppose now's not the time for happy birthdays, but I brought you your present. [He slides it over. It's... not very birthday looking, granted, being a plain brown box held together with tape. He had bought the red glass dragon figurine a while ago, figuring that it's something that a girl who likes dragons would like. The guy who made it said that it was pretty and talked about glasswork and how the light shone through it, but Vimes wasn't able to understand its appeal.
He had bought it anyway. Whatever made her happy, right?]
Okay. [She gets about three-quarters of the way through the curry and puts the fork down. That and tea is an odd combination, and the hot food combined with full stomach and just... exhaustion is making her feel quite sleepy.]
[She opens the box, then smiles some when she sees what's inside.] Oh! It's pretty. Thanks, Mr. Vimes.
[It's obviously very fragile, and she isn't going to touch it with curry-y hands, so she slides it back onto the table. When she's back to her normal self, she'll find somewhere nice--and out of reach of cats--to put it.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
AND A GOOSEBERRY
[She hopes desperately that Vimes won't disappear while she's holding onto him. So far, he still seems very real, very there. After a while her sobs peter out into sniffles, and she loosens her grip on him, though she doesn't make any move otherwise.]
I hope she's okay.
LOL yes.
Here. Drink some of this. [The next command comes almost automatically, from some unconscious voice in the back of his head that he's hazily identified as his wife lecturing him from dimensions or worlds or quantums away.] Blow first.
no subject
'nks.
[She obeys, blowing on the tea to cool it and taking a cautious sip. It's still a bit too hot, but it still feels nice going down and it's sweet. So she waits a moment and then sips again.]
no subject
After you're done with your tea, you should try to eat something, [he instructs. He's about to say how if she can only force a little bit down right now, she can put the rest in the icebox and heat it over the stove for later... but then remembers how small she is.
Maybe he'll write a note to Handmaiden a little later, say he's going to stay here during his shift. There's nothing right about leaving two little girls alone, although he's sure others will be coming to visit her soon. He wraps one arm around her again, and rests his other elbow on the table to prop his head up on his hand. He's rubbish with words, but somehow silence is inefficient.]
It's not much of a comfort, I know, but the thing about people disappearing is... well, it happens. More often than any of us would like, which is to say that it happens in the first place. But taking a page out of your book - [a hopelessly optimistic one, he adds in the privacy of his own mind] - at least we get to meet them at all.
no subject
[She isn't especially hungry, but she does know that she ought to eat or she'll be hungry later, and the curry smells heartier than a meal of peanut butter crackers would be. She takes another swallow of tea and carefully puts down the thermos cup on the table.]
Mm-hm. She was a really good friend. [But she's worried, still. And she would have liked to know her for longer.] I just wanna know...
[Right, she already said that. She reaches out and takes a bite of the curry.] What is this?
no subject
It's curry. Klatchian, [he says, somewhat surprised that she's never tried it before. Then, realizing once again that she's not from his world, he adds,] Foreign food, more or less. It'll warm you up, at least.
no subject
Oh. 'Kay.
[She eats it more or less automatically. Now that the food is in front of her she's feeling hungry. A couple of forkfalls drop off, but she just catches them and eats them too.]
It tastes funny. [...] But nice.
no subject
[Which he didn't get because it looked a bit terrifying to him. Mucky yellow stuff, that's the key.
He sits in silence and watches Krile eat, feeling rather happy about the fact that she's actually eating. He was worried that she was so sad that she'd starve herself, which is even worse in a tiny body.
After it looks like she's winding down a bit, he remembers that he had brought her birthday present.]
Oh yeah. It's a bit late, and I suppose now's not the time for happy birthdays, but I brought you your present. [He slides it over. It's... not very birthday looking, granted, being a plain brown box held together with tape. He had bought the red glass dragon figurine a while ago, figuring that it's something that a girl who likes dragons would like. The guy who made it said that it was pretty and talked about glasswork and how the light shone through it, but Vimes wasn't able to understand its appeal.
He had bought it anyway. Whatever made her happy, right?]
no subject
[She opens the box, then smiles some when she sees what's inside.] Oh! It's pretty. Thanks, Mr. Vimes.
[It's obviously very fragile, and she isn't going to touch it with curry-y hands, so she slides it back onto the table. When she's back to her normal self, she'll find somewhere nice--and out of reach of cats--to put it.]