She helps it into the car seat, gets into the driver's side, closes the door, and doesn't start the car.

"Okay. I'm curious how you know so much about Lolita, concerned who showed the movies or book to a nine-year-old girl, doubtful that your amnesia will let us have an answer, and not interested in any of this chat having an audience. Sorry about the little fib about getting something from the car, I figured that was the least problematic way to get you here that didn't imply you were in trouble and didn't imply we weren't going back in."

Oh. Well that explains the weirdness at least.

"…Umm.

Okay, so that seems like a reasonable thing to be concerned about, but can I first ask that you please avoid lying to me in the future?

I appreciate the apology, but even for little things, I'd really rather not be lied to."

She nods. "Yeah, I didn't really like doing it. Maybe for the future we should have a code that sounds normal to other people but you and I both know means 'can we go talk in the car away from observers,' to prevent this happening again."

"That sounds like a worthwhile thing to have, yeah."

That can wait until later, though.

Oh dear—okay so it has guesses about why it knows more about that story than most 9-year-olds might, but unfortunately those guesses include "I have the internal sense that I might be nearly two decades older than I look", and it has not actually had time yet to figure out whether Sable is a safe person to say that to.

Should it… try to figure that out now?

Hmm… no, not on the shopping trip, but maybe after they get back?

"Umm… I might have a hint of an idea how and why I've read that book, but do you mind if we wait until we're home before I tell you? You seem really great, but I haven't really… thought about whether or not I should tell you that yet?"

Okay, right, that actually kinda sounds like it was abused or something.

"God, okay, that sounds bad—I don't think it's anything bad."

Sable has additional questions.

But.

"Sure, sweetie. Thanks for telling me that there's a thing at all, and considering telling me later. Does liking Lolita have something to do with why you want heart-shaped sunglasses?"

"Oh, I mean, the aesthetic is fun, but I don't actually think I liked Lolita that much—or at least, I don't remember it very well.

I think I like the glasses because of something else that was referencing Lolita, but now I'm drawing a blank on what that was, so who knows."

It pauses.

"Pretty sure I've never actually seen either of the movie adaptations, though. I'm pretty everything I know about them comes from reading about them."

"Hm. Okay. That..."

She takes a breath.

"So I'm pretty sure that sooner or later someone better-read and better-watched than I am will guess the glasses reference the movie, and have Questions for us about that. If these sunglasses make you feel more like yourself, then I will back you to the hilt on this, and we'll just have to take some time to figure out what we tell that hypothetical person to avoid getting me into trouble and you into a new circuit of the foster system. They don't even have to be essential, they just have to... matter, I guess you could say. I just want you to make that choice knowingly, with all the knowledge I can give you about it. Does that make sense, Mae?"

Aww, that's so sweet!

But…

"Oh! So. I don't actually like the plasticky types like the girl wore in that movie. I prefer the thin-rimmed ones, like that other pair next to them in the store.

I'd still be okay with not wearing them around social workers and the like, but I don't think it'll matter much."

Well. That's simpler. Less similarity, less chance of questions. "Okay, that's fine then. Probably those won't get questions, and usually we're not going to be running into social workers in a really sunny environment anyway."

Mae giggles. "Probably not, no."

"Should we head back inside, then?"

Actually, wait, that seemed kind of intense for Sable.

"…Or would you perhaps like a hug first?"

She has been called out on having had some Emotions.

By her kid—foster-kid.

Well.

No point pretending otherwise, model some vulnerability.

"That's sweet of you, Mae. Yeah, I could maybe use one. Thanks."

And she'll lean close for a hug.

It smiles, leans in, and hugs her tight.

Mmmm, she's soft. Very nice to hug.

It lets go after a moment and smiles up at her.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Thank you, sweetie. I worry about you, y'know? Both wondering what happened to you, and wanting you to have intellectual challenges and self-expression. Gonna do everything I can, and you let me know if I mess up, okay?"

God, she's so sweet!

"Aww, thank you! You've been really wonderful so far, and I don't imagine you're likely to mess up very much, but I'll be sure to let you know if anything comes up."

"Thanks, Mae. I appreciate that."

She stretches. "Okay, ready to go back in, kiddo?"

It smiles and takes her hand.

"Ready."

And in they go. The little plastic ones don't seem to be well protected from the sun, but the more elegant ones definitely have good tint on them. They need to be adjusted a bit to fit its face properly, but the clerk is happy to do that.

Oh good! This was easier than it expected, in the end.

It wears the new sunglasses on its way to the checkout line, strutting happily all the way.

The clerk moves over to the little POS computer and rings them up, and Sable pays with a grin, turning to Mae on the way out. "You look adorable in those, sweetie."