"You are just totally great," he declares, giggling.

"I am made of seventy percent great and thirty percent mystical key energy."

"Eighty-twenty."

"Flatterer."

"I call it like I see it."

"What are you made of, then, besides your share of great?"

"I'm made of Tony," he snorts. "I am, like, the least varying template in the multiverse."

"I only barely met the other one who visited here," muses Soph. "Is it bad? That you're a lot alike?"

"Nah. Well, it made picking the nicknames a headache."

"I wonder if there'll ever be another Soph. A - I don't wanna say a real Soph, but one who was, like, born."

"Maybe," he says. "Can you leave the world now? You could go to the next Bellparty and ask Glass if you're templatey."

"Yeah, I went into Milliways, nothing happened, I didn't bounce off like an unwelcome vampire or anything. I think I will do that. When Jane's back."

"With a hole in it for the chimney and everything, awesome."

The brick of the chimney is represented by red jellybeans, carefully cut in half lengthwise to reduce their profile.

Soph giggles and hugs him back, careful not to get the frosting on her hands onto him.

Hugs.

Soph peers at the completed chimney, critically, rummages through her supplies, and finally bites her hand for a puff of white cotton candy to tuck in the end by way of smoke.

"Best gingerbread house," Tony declares.

"Yes. None of the others are tiny Jarvises. All the best houses are Jarvises."

"Stop it, I'm blushing."

Tony giggles.

Soph also giggles.