river_meimei | (no subject)

(no subject)

The Tams' house at New Mayfair is slightly less tidy than usual -- necessarily, with a reluctant invalid occupying the sitting room full-time. But the cleaners still know their job, and appearances must be kept up. Which is why the upstairs hallway, like all the rooms except the one Gabriel is more or less living out of, is still ruthlessly and tastefully tidy.

There are, of course, doors in this house that even the cleaners and security force don't know about.

Magic will do that kind of thing.

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"Several," River adds helpfully, if still somewhat uncertainly.

"Perhaps one of you will see fit to enlighten me," he puts in.

"Perhaps," Galadan replies equably.

One corner of his mouth twitches, just barely.

"But might that count as instruction, I wonder?"

Don't look to River to enlighten anyone.

Galadan has psychic shields as good as ever, which means she doesn't have her usual cheatsheet for his side of the conversation, and she lost track of the idioms a while back.

So she's just going to watch them both with amiable bemusement -- and assorted objects around the room, of course -- until she deems it time to reenter the conversation.

Very, very dryly, Gabriel points out,

"But you, as it happens, are not my daughter."

"A fact I suspect we are both immensely glad of."

He pauses fractionally, lips twitching.

"For a vast multitude of reasons."

River's facial expression is very eloquent.

And it says: You are a WEIRDO.

"Indeed," Gabriel concludes, with remarkable composure.

(Even if there are crinkles around his eyes from suppressed laughter.)

"In any case -- the original question was regarding dinner, I believe?"

"So it was."

Galadan turns to look at River.

His own expression is perfectly composed.

"River? Had you an opinion on the subject?"

And if his shields happen to be ever-so-slightly lowered, and if the loudest thought in his mind is something along the lines of 'dinner with your parents?'--

Sometimes coincidence is kind.

"Yes."

...That appears to be all the answer River deems necessary.

(Underneath: she's a little uncertain -- for awkwardness, for Simon back on the ship without her -- but only a little; she's willing, and mostly cheerful.)

The Wolflord turns back to Gabriel, smiling slightly.

"I believe we both accept, then."

Just in case the Senator didn't follow their conversation, of course.

"I'm pleased to hear it."

He's looking back and forth between them with slight surprise and visible interest.

It's the first time Gabriel Tam has had the opportunity to see these two in each other's company.

"It's etiquette," River explains to him helpfully. And cheerfully.

"Supposed to be. Unless it's an elaborate scheme."

"And of course no one here is prone to elaborate schemes."

This time Galadan fails to look at River.

Though his lips twitch again.

"No, of course not."

Blandly.

"You're a liar."

Whether that's to Galadan, Gabriel, or both isn't quite clear; either way, it's entirely amused.

"That would only apply if I were speaking entirely in earnest."

Galadan uses sarcasm as a weapon.

Unlike the Tams.

For his part, Gabriel just leans back in his chair, watching with something approaching fascination.

River makes a face.

This time it's clearly at both of them.

This, of course, would be the point at which Galadan laughs.

It is not particularly long in duration, but it is genuine for all of that.

"Consider me put rather effectively in my place."

"I'm not sure I knew that was possible," he puts in, and Gabriel's very clearly amused.

Whether he means the laughter or the placement is left unspoken.

"You're very uncreative," River says pityingly.

Mock-pityingly.

Laughingly.

Whatever.

Galadan is still laughing a little when he looks at River.

"Perhaps you might take him under your wing, then."

He quirks a smile at the Senator.

"Seeing as you so often have very . . . interesting ideas."

"Interesting ideas certainly seem to be in no shortage around here," Gabriel agrees smoothly.

He doesn't look at the two small tiles lying hidden by the book on the table at the side of his chair.

River's eyes drop -- to the table, perhaps, though there's nothing but a book lying placidly on the polished walnut -- and lift again.

"I will," she says.

Seriously, or mock-seriously; it's hard to tell, sometimes.