river_meimei | (no subject)

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in milliways honest

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The rafters have a few advantages.

They're comfortable, for one thing! (If you're River Tam.) And interesting. And sometimes you find candy. And they provide a fun change of perspective.

And sometimes they're a good way to find people.

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Evidently.

. . . The way River moves is kind of fascinating.

Nita closes her manual and nudges the other chair out with her foot in invitation.

"In the specificities."

She's a creature of extraordinary grace! And wacky fun hallucinations, also.

River glances at the chair, apparently surprised by its existence, and then ghosts a hand along the back before she drops into the seat.

"I can hear," she explains, choosing each word with care, although it's very possible that only River thinks this is a clear explanation.

"It's a relay. Through the commlines."

He nods.

"Where would be better, do you think?"

He's happy to infer, but at the end of the day only one of them knows the details of what's going on and it is not Havelock.

"Who--?"

She blinks, stops herself.

"Okay. Go on."

This feels important -- which means she'll have to figure out the logic eventually, but interrupting won't help that. She can ask questions later.

"Secret," River says softly.

"They listen at the keyholes."

One corner of River's mouth ticks up in a tiny, strangely sweet smile.

"There's garlic."

Havelock's head tilts at her, as if tracking the smile sideways.

Then he swings his legs of the side of the rafter.

"Follow me," he says.

River twists from her crouch to a similarly seated position, ready to slide off the rafter after him. The silent gesture has a eloquence that her words tend to lack; it says, lead on.

Puck and Havelock's room tends be hard to find, depending where you come from, but from the Bar it is simple enough as long as you know where you are going.

There's apparently some kind of trick to opening the door, though. Havelock pauses, and waits for a conspicious thump before it opens fully. He then holds the door politely for River to enter.

Edited 2010-01-04 23:36 (UTC)

Havelock Vetinari is a true gentleman.

"Skip the knives," River says amicably to the room at large, and steps in without hesitation. But with a certain degree of care.

"I won't tell."

I know THAT, says River's face impatiently.

"I'm telling you."

"--Sorry. I'm listening."

Havelock looks innocent, shutting the door.

Well, maybe River can just about detect the attempt.

Or not.

"Please, take a seat," he offers. Translated, this means 'the chair is not booby-trapped.'

Since this is not a context in which the offer would mean 'the chair is totally booby-trapped, please do sit in it,' River correctly translates. At least, she settles down comfortably.

"From Puck," she says. "In the palaver."

River's fingertips press against the edge of the table. She looks a little frustrated -- not a lot, but it's creeping around the edges.

"I know it."

"The line's not secure. Passive monitoring is an ongoing concern."

The chair completely fails to explode or collapse under her. Havelock leans thoughtfully back against the wall instead of taking a seat as well.

"I see," he says.

"--Wait, you mean down here? Would you like to go somewhere quieter?"

River has settled down with one leg tucked beneath her. Now she pulls the other to her chest, arms twined loosely around her ankle, and regards Havelock's general vicinity. (Mostly that wall, from the look of her focus.)

"It's a loophole."

"He promised. No talking. Aid and succor in the externalities."

"I'm the interlocution."

AREN'T YOU GLAD to have such an articulate translator, Havelock!

"Safer," River says softly.

She looks intent, serious, focused -- not scared.

"Would my room work?"

It could be easier, but then again, it would be a lot worse without her. And for someone who constantly analyses every word everyone says in any case, it's almost refreshing.

Havelock's expression doesn't change, but he is silent for a moment.

"Yes," he says finally. "I thought it had to be something like that."

River's expression says, briefly: yeah, it's kind of a theme, isn't it.

It's mild, though, and the exasperation is tinged with something between sympathy and affection; River wouldn't quite call Puck a friend, but she wouldn't quite avoid it either, and Dracula is very clearly the enemy here. River has no fondness for anyone preying on patrons. She's a gunslinger, and at Milliways, she watches the bounds.

Softly, "Got teeth inside the shadows."

"You tell me," River says, but she nods right afterward.

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