"Murder, not a fire. You're cousin to Lord Mark Vorkosigan, aren't you?" says the captain.
Ivan has to think for a second. "...Yes?"
"Security vid picked him up within radius of a murder. This is the first we knew of him being on the planet, but the locals want us to bring him in so they don't have to it themselves and risk mishandling a Vor lord. Seemed worth consulting you on him - the file on him's really something."
Ivan blinks. "You need to arrest Mark."
"Yes."
"...Sir. Uh, give me a while to try doing it myself. He's... I'm not positive I can succeed but I am pretty sure I can survive trying, and unless he's in a cooperative mood I'm very uncertain anybody else can say the same thing."
"He may have just killed a man."
"I'm aware. He likes me. He doesn't know you from a hole in the ground, or anybody else within fetching distance, sir. Give me his last location and a few hours? Please?"
"By yourself?"
"He wouldn't know anybody you could send with me from a hole in the ground."
The captain chews his lip. "None of your shenanigans, all right?"
"Sir, I'm not the shenanigans one, it's just contagious when m'co- my other cousin's around. I'll see if I can find him, if I find him I'll try to bring him back."
The captain eventually acquiesces. And that is why Ivan is tromping around downtown, debating whether or not to call "Mark? Mark?" like he's looking for a lost dog.
"You're very charming. You have to have noticed I think so. It's not like I've been hiding it. It's my bloody tell! Do you know how hilarious that is? I do a perfect Miles, except to you, because I like you too much. And it's solid, too. I couldn't hide it if I tried. The fear of physical contact will go away eventually, but you will be delightful forever."
"I'm used to charming normal people. Mostly girls. It's still weird that I have charmed you by total accident, initially while you were pretending to be Miles, who trusts me inconveniently vast amounts but doesn't like me much to speak of."
"Inconveniently vast," he snorts. "You are reliable, so he relies on you. You are valuable, so he values you. It's strange... I actually don't think I could put him on, right now. I've spent so long refusing to exercise the option, it's indescribably bizarre not to have it at all. But I can still see into his head just fine. Ha, you could ask me embarrassing personal questions about Miles... he'd forgive you. He'd forgive you just about anything."
"I only like annoying Miles in quantities he doesn't have to explicitly forgive me for to be okay afterward."
"Yes. He knows that. Not 'I know that', that's interesting too... I hadn't thought of it until you said, but it was there when I looked. It's very much like I have a copy of Miles's soul available to consult at will. What a charmingly morbid thought. Did it come pre-installed, I wonder, or did I put it together from all those biographical facts? I can't tell. I've known him for as long as I can remember. Oh, here comes my childhood, won't that be fun..."
"Everything. I love to cook. Nice save. I appreciate it. What's your favourite food, do you have one? I suspect Miles of a taste for maple mead but I don't have that one verified."
"Mm, chocolate croissants... now I want to go bake something." He giggles. "Imagine if I had a compulsive cooking reaction, to complement his compulsive poetry. Lying undiscovered until you unwittingly asked me about food. Wouldn't that be hilarious?"
"Probably yes. That wouldn't end well. But the mental image of you chasing me through the halls trying to tackle me before I reach the kitchen is spectacular."
"Would you get very far? If you were only trying to reach the kitchen and not knock me unconscious, I mean. You've got short legs."
"Right, you haven't seen Miles on fast-penta. He... accelerates. Longer legs would not be enough. Luckily for everyone, I seem to have an almost normal reaction... more range of emotion than I was expecting. And that part where I went totally non-verbal was not mentioned in anything I've read."
"Nothing bad. Very detailed mental imagery of the exact thing you were asking about, but no words to explain it with until the replay was over."
Mark giggles. "Was that the wrong thing to say? Not that I could have chosen any differently. But I won't be on fast-penta forever. Now there's a horrifying thought..."
"Being on fast-penta forever," he elaborates. "I'd probably kill myself. Chronic loneliness hasn't done it, but chronic verbal incontinence very well might."
"What a comfort. And hopefully you'll still tolerate me afterward. God knows why. I'm not sure I'd tolerate me if I had the option not to."