visits

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim's never brought a guest back from Milliways before. It hasn't seemed worth bothering with.

But he has visited Matilda's home several times, and traditionally speaking it is only polite to return the favor.

More importantly, she asked, and the reasons to say no were far outweighed by the reasons to say yes.

Comments

[catslash_rp]

"'San exclusive club."

To say the least.

(He also happens to think it's a good one to be in.)

[missnicegirl]

"I got in by having an unmeasurable IQ," Matilda says cheerfully. "What'd you do?"

[catslash_rp]

Inappropriate answers to this question include: Shot people with lethal aim whenever Jim told me to.

He pauses, searching for something a bit more kid-friendly.

"Didn't get chased off, mostly," is what he settles on. It is, at heart, a more accurate answer, anyway.

[missnicegirl]

She grins. Clearly this is perfectly understandable.

"He's nice to me, but I don't think he's nice to a lot of people," she says wisely. "And I bet he's hard to keep up with."

[catslash_rp]

"I do a lot of nodding without actually listening," Moran agrees.

He's long since learnt how to tell the difference between when listening is important and when it's frankly easier for both of them if he doesn't bother trying to follow what Jim is saying.

The kettle clicks; he pours out the water, then investigates the fridge to see if the milk is still good.

[missnicegirl]

Matilda giggles at the mental image this presents.

"My friends do that too, sometimes, but I try to stay on their level so they don't have to."

There is plenty of fun to be had there. Newts, for example, are totally comprehensible to your average six-year-old.

[catslash_rp]

The milk is acceptable. He puts it on the counter.

"That," he says, "is because you have manners."

[missnicegirl]

"You're funny," she declares. "I like you. I'm glad you're Jim's friend."

[catslash_rp]

Much to Moran's inexpressible relief, Jim chooses this moment to stroll into the kitchen.

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim takes one of the mugs of tea, not caring in the least that it hasn't finished steeping.

He doesn't smirk openly, because Matilda is there, but he does take the opportunity to give Seb a decidedly smirklike look over the rim of his mug.

Seb ignores him. Badly. Jim grins.

"Glad to hear you're getting along," he says, all innocence.

[missnicegirl]

Matilda will wait for her tea. Although watching Jim pick one up does prompt her to ask him, "He knows about the magic, right?"

She's pretty sure the answer is yes, but she'd rather check before she starts making things float.

[searchingfordistraction]

"Mm."

Jim takes the teabag out of his mug and drops it into the one Seb intended for himself. It's getting in the way.

"Go ahead." She's safe to use it in front of Seb as much as she likes.

[catslash_rp]

Either he's used to his drinks ending up as Jim's teabag depository or he likes it double-strength; he doesn't even blink.

"Is that what it is, then?" he asks, curious. As opposed to some kind of science, he means, but another thing he's used to is not having to finish his thoughts when he's talking to geniuses.

[missnicegirl]

"Yep," says Matilda. "I'm still trying to figure out the walking through walls part, but I can throw fireballs now, although you probably don't want me doing it in your house. I guess Jim didn't tell you about helping me rescue Jenny?"

[catslash_rp]

Moran gives Jim a long look, which is studiously ignored.

Jim disappearing into Milliways is bad enough, but at least they have security staff equipped to deal with even its most powerful patrons. Someone is going to be getting an earful about appropriate security procedure and how fucking off to alternate realities does not qualify later on.

It won't change a thing, but it'll make Moran feel better.

"No," he says, "he didn't mention that."

[missnicegirl]

"Miss Trunchbull kidnapped her," Matilda explains. "Jim helped me get her back. Don't worry, he didn't get near any fireballs. But anyway, that's when I figured out that my powers are actually magic, because Miss Trunchbull was doing obvious magic stuff with hers. Like fireballs."

The fireballs are kind of a theme here.

[searchingfordistraction]

"It was perfectly safe, Seb," Jim murmurs into his mug.

By his standards - namely, no one whose preservation he was concerned about was harmed - it was indeed perfectly safe.

[catslash_rp]

He knows all about Jim's standards of safety. They are the bane of his fucking existence.

"Glad it worked out all right, then," he says evenly.

Fucking fireballs.

[missnicegirl]

Matilda summons her tea to hover in front of her, inspects it, and then banishes the teabag into the trash and pours herself some milk, all without actually touching anything.

Using magic is just so much more convenient.

"Me too," she says solemnly. "I would've been really upset if anything bad had happened to Jenny. Or Jim."

[catslash_rp]

Moran is somewhat distracted from his irritation by this display.

He's not usually easy to distract, but he is only human, and this is a bit different from watching it happen in a movie.

[searchingfordistraction]

(Next to him, Jim has gone very still.)

[catslash_rp]

"Wouldn't have been too pleased myself," he says, after that extra second's pause.

(He should be paying more attention to Jim, but he's slightly preoccupied at the moment.)

[missnicegirl]

Matilda, on the other hand, looks up from her tea and blinks.

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim's eyes are closed.

If he hadn't spent time looking for it before - sessions of concentration deep enough to be meditation of a sort, building on his previous efforts with Matilda - he might have missed it now.

Or he might not have.

"Did you feel that?" he asks, after a long silent moment.

[missnicegirl]

Interested: "No, what?"