A wild Tim appears, despite the lack of tall grass.  He's dressed in a long, warm black jacket that comes down around his knees and a dark grey pair of pants with ankle-length combat boots.  In his left hand, is a half-drained fluorescent-orange energy drink, which he raises in greeting. "Hey.  I wrapped up a little early, today."  I'm going to make up for it tomorrow, I'll be able to push a little harder.  Little smile?

"Tim! Hello!" Would he like a hug of greeting? "Oh, it's a little cooler here than it is à Québec!"

She is wearing only a sweater and no jacket, though she has an impractically long brown scarf coiled multiple times around her neck. Luckily the weather was such that she is wearing thick winter leggings under her skirt, though, so her legs won't get cold. 

Little pause of surprise, but: one-armed hug, colorful energy drink held out to the side!  "That's a little surprising.  They used to complain that we Vermontiers never see real cold."  Wait, should you be making fun of Quebecois?  It's the state sport, but she's from up north.  "How was your trip?"  It was a literal teleport, Tim.

"Very easy!" She lets go, and- well, she's wearing gloves, so there's no guiding purpose to holding hands. Hm. 

She shakes her head, "It must happen every once in a while, I suppose. Wait while I get my coat out?" 

She sets her bags down to do that, extracting a fur-lined jacket which she pulls on swiftly. It's just long enough that a hint of her skirt is visible beyond the hem. 

Tim is capable of waiting.  Most of his old job was waiting.  "That looks quite a bit warmer."  Don't just drain your drink, you need to be able to sip it.  "Shall we head back to my silo?  Or are you hungry?"

"I could eat, I came home straight from class," she admits, "But! I could wait a couple hours. Lunch wasn't too long ago, and I'd like to put my bags somewhere." 

Now looking something like a pine tree in dark green and earth brown, she picks up her duffle again and slings it over her shoulder. 

"How far is it?" 

"Perhaps twenty minutes walking.  We picked up an old movie theater for cheap.  Sometimes we put on movies, we pick them by poll every few days."  Should you offer to carry that?  She has esper strength, but it's - wait, this is a business meeting.  And she might think you're going to steal her bag.  Wait, why would - nevermind.  "Let's head for the silo first, then get something to eat?"  I hate how dry my eyes get at this level.  Hmm.  Tim will attempt his recently-developed Hand Dangle technique while guiding showing Sara the way to the Healing Silo. 

-well, it's not so cold Sara minds going gloveless. She carefully tugs at one finger with her teeth, and then tucks that glove in her pocket before taking Tim's hand. 

"That sounds wonderful. What kinds of movie do you put on? Do you have any old film- reels? Hm. Is that the word?" 

Ahhhhh.  Sara can definitely tell that Tim was working under heavy load today.  Insofar as 'sitting in a room' counts as heavy load, anyway.  "Reels, yes.  But it's not that old, I'm afraid.  This one had special hard drives they shipped around to different movie theaters.  'Sneakernet' was the nickname for it, and you can get an adapter for the projector these days.  We mostly wind up seeing comedies, but I admit to have heckled a bad action movie or ten in my time.  The kind that doesn't track reloads, or even sometimes what gun someone was using scene-to-scene."  Tim takes another sip of his energy drink. and sighs a little.  Funny how guiding beats caffeine every time without even trying.

She squeezes his hand, but that's all the comment she makes on his backlash load. 

"I suppose I never considered what they changed to after reels," she muses, "But hard drives does make sense. Are the action inconsistencies truly that bad? I confess I tend to watch more historical settings than anything else, which is where I find most of those myself." 

"Well, nobody ever reloads except at dramatic moments, you've got a one in three shot at firearm safety, ricochets don't exist, nobody thinks about the backdrop, and yeah, sometimes a gun gets completely swapped between scenes."  Don't yawn.  "But it's still fun, just - junk food fun, if you know what I mean?"

"Yes," she covers her smile, "It's the same with historical movies. The fashion is so often off, customs are wrong, and do not even get me started on 'courting'," she rolls her eyes. "But it's still fun. They will often film at incredible locations, and the acting and story will often make up some for the innacuracy." 

"Is your smile shy?  You're always covering it a little."  What.  where the fuck did that come from.  Why does anybody let me do thinking after a long day?

"Oh," she lowers her hand, "No, I'm sorry, it's a bad habit." 

"Oh, I mean.  No, it's not a - " shit how do I recover " - problem.  Um."  Don't ask her if her teeth were messed up before awakening.  "It's fine, really."  Handsqueeze?  Is that a thing people like?

She smiles up at him, without hiding it this time, "It's okay! Just- when I was small, there was- someone who would tease me when I smiled. And then I had a partner who did it too. I just have to relearn not to do it, again." 

"I get it, a little  I used to have, er.  Not perfect skin.  Before I awakened." Tim gestures vaguely at his face with his soda-holding hand.  But I'll never forget the names of half the craters on the moon, so at least it'll help if I ever take an astronomy course.  "It's not the same, but it's maybe the same - idea?"

"Mm. I got braces when I was eleven. Jeremy, though-" she shrugs.

"So, partly." 

"Jer - " wait fuck is this a good thing to even ask about.  "Um.  We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want.  It's - " none of your business?  Not a big deal?  a touchy subject for you?  all of the above?  " - um."  Tim.exe has stopped responding.

She squeezes his hand, "It's a bit of a heavy topic for a walk from the train station," she agrees. "Movies? Could we watch something tomorrow?" 

"Er, yeah.  Sorry.  Um.  I think there was a comedy in the lead, last I looked."  Tim can ramble about movie choices until they arrive at the silo?  This is a thing he is capable of doing.

Sara will listen and make the occasional comment and hold his hand and chip away at his backlash bit by bit. 

Tim is feeling a little perkier after ten minutes of conversational autopilot.  Making smalltalk with strangers is part of being a combat esper and an EMT, but for most of those calls, his conversational partner isn't someone who matters to him, not in the long run.  Of course, every rescue is important and every person he's helped get up after an injury mattered.  But not to him, as a human being with whom he'll have to interact in the future.

Sara?  She's higher-stakes, despite the remarkably low risk of injury while crossing two streets and strolling one point three(1.3) miles hand-in-hand.

"Well, here we are."  Tim gestures with his can at the Montpelier Recuperative Care And Rehabilitation Facility.  "It's not much, but here we are."  He reaches down with his canned hand for the key, only to realize that his hand does in fact have a can in it.  "Er.  Pardonnez me."  Tim, you're language mixing again.  Bad habit.  The door is keyed, and Tim opens a door extra-wide to accommodate one Sara Lepine and her duffel.  "This is the official silo, my place is technically next door."

The foyer is, essentially, a movie theater.  There's a huge 'reception' desk that still has a popcorn machine.  Gesturing at it, Tim notes "We still fire it up for movie nights, small batches only, though.  Seemed a shame to get rid of it."  There are a handful of couches in foyer, but there's remarkably little decoration.

She spins - partway, given hand-holding - to take it in. 

"It looks like something out of childhood. I haven't been to a movie theater in years..." 

She just hasn't had a need to, with movies available wherever she called home. She wasn't wealthy enough to waste money on an experience she didn't see need for, before, and afterwards she had more important things to do with her time. 

"It's kind of nice.  I like the ambiance, if you made just a couple of changes it could be a movie theater again.  Or if you - blur your eyes, a little bit."  Tim used to having to take a little trip if he wants to see a movie.  It was only a few months that he won the lottery twice in a row - once at becoming an esper, and again by surviving Hell Week.  "Nobody's here, they finished cleaning already.  D'you want to stash your bag behind the counter so we can feed you?  Or would you prefer the guided tour tonight?"

"Let's eat, first. Will we have time for a little guided tour while things are being set up tomorrow?" 

Counter-wards she tugs him, and she leans over it to see what kind of space there is before sliding her duffle and backpack underneath it. 

There's plenty of space!  It's a glorified receptionist's desk, with tons of space for a duffel.  There are computers and very comfy office chairs galore, along with various office accoutrements like post-its, pens, a rubber-band gun and two tablets.  Perhaps Sara might catch a glimpse of the heavy-duty security door from this perspective, perhaps not.

She trusts her things will be safe enough beneath the counter without inquiring after the security door. In they go! 

That done, she straightens again and nods happily at him, "What foods are there nearby?" 

"Well, there's this really nice - " Thai place.  "Er.  Scuse me, tickle in my throat.  Ah."  Tim clears his throat repeatedly.  Get your self together.  "Pizza place nearby.  It's good for guiding because you don't need forks and knives to eat pizza.  It's owned by this really sweet couple from the old country, I don't know where the old country is, exactly, because the accent is so thick.  But they're really nice."  An old lyric pops into Tim's mind, unbidden: If you smile at me, I will understand.  That is something everybody everywhere does in the same language.

"Pizza sounds nice, actually. Filling and customizable! Just a moment," she lets go of him briefly to dig a knitted red hat out of her pocket, which she pulls over her head. "There, all ready. Let's go see if I can identify their accent?" 

Mmmmm, guiding.  Sara can probably tell that this is going to take A While of just handholding.  Tim swallows a yawn and hip-bumps the door open, scooching left so let Sara past.  "Is that your handiwork?"  Inquisitive chin-tilt at the headgear.

Well, she brought shorts and a midriff-baring top for tomorrow, so at least there will be more skin contact then. 

"Mhm," she adjusts her hat slightly as she waits for him to lock up, "It's the same yarn as the sweater I wore at the mixer. I brought the orange yarn for you, too," she adds, and that's actually in her purse so she shakes it a bit. 

"Um."  You knew this was going to happen, Tim.  Will you please stop with the 'um's and say something.  "I'm - looking forward to it."  Augh.  You sound like you're some corporate slob.  "Wearing it, I mean."  You'd think it would take me a little less time to get used to an actual partnership.  Wait, she's not even a real partnership.  This is just getting used to each other.  For five days.  Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday.  Anyone nearby who happens to see Tim's left hand will see him counting off the days on his fingers.  Augh.  I'm so grateful she got the hotel, five days with a complete stranger is.  A lot.

...She raises an eyebrow at him, "You know, you can say no, Tim. It's okay if you don't want a hat." 

"No, I just - I could use a hat.  And yours is - cozy.  I'm just.  Not used to that kind of thing, really?"  Well, not since shut up.  "Y'know."  I sincerely hope you know because I don't actually know.

"...gifts? Gifts from friends? A gift from a friend she made herself?" 

It sounds so stupid when she says it out loud but here I am I guess???  "Er.  Yes?  Not, never.  But."

Handsqueeze! "Okay. I'm not sure how to help. I like making hats and I like to see them on people, keeping them warm. Making your favourite colour makes it feel special- oh," she stops them for a moment so she can actually dig the yarn out. 

It's a more dull orange, sort of autumnal, or burnt, rather than anything close to traffic sign neon. "Is this okay? I thought too dim would be better than too bright." 

"No, it's - it's good.  I do better if I have a plan, right?  And I don't."  Augh.  "I don't plan to get gifts, because - that would be."  Taking up space?  "Arrogant?"  Timothy Bartholomew Delgado is not an introspective man by nature, but if you ask him a question he's willing to answer he will do his level best to do it.  "It would be - " special?  Too cringe.  "Um.  Nice to have something you made.  For me.  And a hat, because, well." 

Timothy retrieves his hand long enough to grab his jacket and pull.  It streeeeeeeeeeetches like Lycra on steroids. 

"It's inspired by some dungeon material, I forget the name.  But I can't wear regular clothes if I want to use my power.  You know how they say, 'don't stretch in jeans, you'll break the button'?  It's like that, but for everything.  So, a hat would be nice.  No muscle groups in your head, you know?  I'd be pretty, um, upset if you took the time to make me something and I broke it because."  Because you're a clumsy idiot.

"Oh." 

Hugging him feels like a lot, but she is going to wrap both her arms around his and squeeze. 

"Okay. The yarn I picked is still soft, but a strong um... Spin?"

She sighs. 

"The hair is long and strong, so it is more durable. Of course you could break it, but it will last longer, I hope. If you do tear it, though, I can fix it," maybe that will be reassuring, some? "I could even put decoration on it, if it breaks. Leaves, maybe." 

Oh.  Well.  This isn't quite.  Expected.  "No, I - a hat is fine, I've never torn a hat in my life."  You should hug her back, you idiot.  A three-month old reflex springs to life, and Tim's hand finds the small of Sara's back.  "And if I somehow manage it, I'll bring it back to you.  Okay?"

"Yes," he can have a totally uncovered smile, and then she will return to her former position so they can keep moving pizzawards. 

Okay.  I got through it.  It's fine.  Tim feels a mixture of relief and emotional tiredness anything after tap-dancing through that particular conversational minefield and will just hold hands guide Sara to a little pizzeria.

Sara will observe the architecture! So many lovely 19th century New England buildings, and the abundance of trees leaves one feeling they are in the middle of the forest, despite the asphalt and road. It's beautiful here. 

It really is.  And look, it's a lovely little restaurant!  The accent is indeed thick - how is Sara at identifying Mediterranean accents?  A smiling middle-aged couple would like to know, presumably along with her order. 

She is not terribly good at Mediterranean accents! Oh well, the origins of the nice middle-aged couple may continue to be a mystery. 

She would like- actually, now she's here, she would really like a nice Margherita pizza? Earlier she'd been thinking something more Western, but now she's craving something more simple and clean. 

Do they make personal pan size, or will she be taking some of this home?

They do make personal pan size!  Tim is going to order a large Greek, with extra feta.  And some handholding on the side?

Yep! While they're waiting she will even take off her other glove and they can hold both hands. 

Whoah.  Doubled efficiency!  Along with an incredibly dirty leer, courtesy of one of the owners, from over Sara's shoulder.

Sara is oblivious! 

"Should we have asked for an appetizer?" She is looking at one of the other tables, "Is the bread here good?"

Tim is stuck in the awkward position of not wanting to inadvertently glare at his potential business partner while also wanting to give Papa over there the stinkeye.  Truly, a dilemma.  Wait.  Bread?  "Oh, um - sometimes I get the garlic bread.  Are you really hungry?  I could go ask for some."  And give him the evil eye while I'm at it.

"Yes, please!" Handsqueeze! "I can come along if you don't want to stop guiding?" 

"No, it's - I'll just be a second."  Tim does keep contact with Sara for as long as possible while getting up, but he is a functional adult human being who lives in a society and can stand up to order garlic bread with some side kind of white sauce on the side.  A certain amount of glaring at Papa might be involved.  Papa looks incredibly smug right back at him.  Tim comes back in about three minutes with a small basket of cheesy, garilicky carbohydrates.  "They keep 'em on top of the stove, I think they make a new batch once an hour or so.  If there's extra around closing time, you get twice as much, I think they just hate wasting food."  Tim employs the Hand-Dangling Technique sets his right hand down on top of the table.  "The white sauce is really good, it's some kind of savory thing."

Sara sets her left hand back over his right, and with her other hand she takes a chunk of cheesy garlic bread to test this out. 

"Mmm," she nods, "Mushroom?" It really is hard to tell. "That can't be it. Some kind of cheese?" 

Tim is not born in a barn and does not talk with his mouth full of garlic bread.  "S'good.  I think it must have cheese, maybe cream cheese?  It's too - " um.  What do you call it.  Tim gestures vaguely.  "Salé?  To lack cheese altogether."

Mmm, guiding.  Another three hours of that and I'll be good.

"Oui. Too thick to lack it, also." Either way, it tastes great with garlic bread. 

Sara rests her wrist over his in between bites, to maximize skin contact while she can't hold his other hand. Sitting across a table from each other is actually a very good setting for hand-holding, it turns out. 

"I take it it's a restaurant secret, so they won't tell me how they make it." 

"Probably.  It'd take me ages to perfect it anyway, and - " oh.  That's a wrist.  "Um." Maybe you could match ankles?  No.  You're wearing combat boots, Tim.  They probably stink by now, too.  Wait, say something.  "Er.  Well, they're right here, you know?"

She nods!

She looks down at their hands.

"...the quicker I can deal with it, the better, right?" It's not a lot a lot of backlash but it can't be comfortable. 

"No, I - agree.  I like it.  You know how when you get tired enough, your eyes dry out?  I pushed myself a little today and ran out of the last batch of eyedrops I'm trying."

"Oh, I hadn't even thought of that part. Does it help at all to blink your eyes more? Or to rest them? I won't think badly of you if you lay your head down for a little while, while we wait for our pizza." 

"I mean, it does, but it's boring."  Tim sounds a little more plaintive than he intends to or realizes.  "If it gets bad, I will, but I paced myself today.  Besides, this is our first real - " hangout?  Guiding session? - " - meeting.  I wouldn't want to doze through it."

"Okay, but don't hurt yourself on my account," hand-squeeze.

"Will you be able to show me the State House after dinner? I hear it's a beautiful building, especially in the fall with the leaves all turning."

She's been inside all day, she'd like a chance to stretch her legs. 

"Of course!  It's just a little way down the road, we can walk there if you're not tired.  I haven't really been there since I was back in school.  Oh, I think that's us."  Tim will lift his chin towards a matronly woman bearing a pizza in each hand.

"Eet's hot.  Enjoy, let cool first.  Fresh from the oven!"  This is largely directed at the New Girl, who is favored with a broad smile.  To Timothy her regular, her smile turns a little more serious.  "I talk to Papa for you.  Congratulations."  Little jerk of the head to indicate Sara is the thing she's congratulating him on.

The latter gets a curious head-tilt, but there is pizza in front of her now so she doesn't inquire. Instead she pulls free a slice with her right hand and- blows on it, instead of taking a bite. Tim can feel a slight spike of backlash on her end, before she sets the pizza back down. 

"Hot," she agrees, sheepish. 

Okay.  It's fine, just ignore it.  You don't have to react to your blush, she's ignoring it, we're all being civilized.  Cultivated ignorance is a virtue of civilization.  "It comes right out of the oven, you can watch them make it if you want.  I like to let mine cool, or the melty cheese just goes everwhere."  Tim is perfectly capable of waiting for a pizza to cool, especially when he's helped demolish a tray of garlic bread.

Sara will nibble on the last piece of that garlic bread while waiting, then. 

"You grew up somewhere else, yes? Did you come here on a field trip?" She thinks he mentioned that at some point on Sunday night, though it's all a bit of a blur. 

"Yes'm.  I grew up about two hours north of here."  Tim carefully scoops a piece of pizza onto his plate, only to leave it there to cool some more.  Cheese is too runny, still.  "It was a 'meet your representative' kind of deal.  We all got to dress up in suits, and see the Halls of Power."  Tim's clearly poking fun at himself in the last few words.  "It beat going to class, anyway."

"Oh, near the border?" She pokes her pizza; a couple more minutes and it should be fine. 

"Pretty close to it.  Hour away from Canada, maybe two or three away from Quebec.  We're right on the edge, really."

There's a moment where she's trying to make those figures match up - two hours north of Montpelier, but two to three from Québec? But an hour from Canada? What-

"But-? Québec is at the border?" 

"Oh, I mean - the city.  Quebec city.  Obviously, it's - we just think of it as Canada."

"Oh!" She smacks her forehead. "Of course," and she lapses into French, "Obviously." 

"I have fallen for the oldest trick in our book," she rolls her eyes. 

"We have our own share of problems.  Think of all the places named 'Washington'.  I know he founded America, but we have tens of thousands of Washington Avenues, Streets, Roads, and towns.  Even counties.  He was a great man, but it is far too much."

"In Québec, not so much, but in the rest of the country Queen Victoria is absolutely everywhere." 

"When I was up there, the Quebecois were rather insistent that they weren't in Canada, they were in Quebec.  But Quebec is just...like that."  Tim abruptly realizes that there is a pizza in front of him, it is probably cool enough by now.  Check - yep, that's edible.  Very edible.  Empirically proven to be edible.

Oh yes, pizza! 

Mmm... Fresh sauce and soft, melty mozza. She definitely made the right choice. 

Tim packs away half of his pizza, but gives Sara’s final few slices a considering look.

She notices his look! 

"Want a slice?" She nudges the tray towards him. "Maybe we should have ordered more bread."  

Tim has the relative good grace to look abashed.  "I can't figure out if it's my backlash or what, I just get so hungry after I use my power.  It makes sense if you're getting the buff and doing something with it, but I didn't really do anything today."  Tim will try the Margherita.  ""S'good."  Tim makes a happy noise and gestures invitingly at his remaining half-a-pizza.

She will try the Greek with extra feta! 

"A little more grease than I wanted," she nods to herself, "But one slice is nice. Maybe it's, what's the word," she hums to herself...

"Well, your body is so tired, you think you must be hungry too?" 

"I have no idea.  I'm just lucky I'm an esper or Mama would have to roll me out the door in a wheelbarrow.  Some of the people who have, er, big things to recover from get extra-hungry.  Maybe it's related somehow, I really don't know."

"Maybe it's something... Hmm. If your body was tired for reasons besides the backlash... It would be asking for more food, to repair your muscles and... So on." 

She shrugs, "It is what it is, either way. I don't mind staying a little longer if you're still hungry. Or we could stop somewhere for a snack on our walk?" 

“Non, I’ll need to drop this off.  I’ll need it later tonight, I’ll probably get hungry again.  D’you feel up for a stroll?  The State House is just little over a mile away.”  A lightbulb goes off.  “Did you plan on a visit there?”

"Yes," she waggles her pizza slice at him, "I did ask to see it. It's supposed to be a lovely example of nineteenth century Neoclassical architecture. I've seen pictures, but it's always nice to get a good look in person."

“No, I mean - you made plans, you did research.  Nobody knows anything about the state capital of Vermont unless they live here or did their homework.”

She covers her smile, "Yes. I knew I was coming here, I wanted to know what there was to see." 

Is she deliberately missing the point, or do I just not have a point? Something to think about later.  "Well.  I think I'm ready to show you around, if you're ready to be shown."

"Let me just finish this slice," she says, quickly doing just that and wiping her fingers on her napkin. 

"Alright, let's go pay and then explore?" 

"I already took care of it."  Tim acquires a small box for the remaining few slices of pie, scoops them into the box, then resumes guiding.

"Oh! Thank you," handsqueeze into standing up? And then back out into the cool autumn evening, where Sara replaces her hat and tucks her free hand into her pocket. 

As they walk, she asks after his plans for hiking, and when he'd like to do that. Not tomorrow, of course, but Saturday or Sunday? She saw there were a number of state forests nearby when she was researching, but doesn't know what each one is like. 

Handsqueeze!  Tim will do as much of the lifting to Sara's feet as Sara is willing to let him do.

Either would be fine!  It'd be totally reasonable if Sara wanted to take a break from him for some personal time on Saturday, spending 8+ hours with Tim someone is a big ask.  But Saturday is supposed to be really nice, and Molly's Falls State Park is supposed to be really nice, and he's always wanted an excuse to go!

Well, half the reason she's here is to spend time with him, and if she's somehow tired of socializing after tomorrow then a night's sleep will certainly fix the problem. 

(Tim, Sara is coming to understand, is silly, in a somewhat concerning manner. A thoughtful, kind, and incredibly silly man.) 

Anyway, Saturday sounds lovely, and she's delighted to be his excuse! 

Sounds good, Sara's social batteries are the quick-charge kind.  That's probably a good thing, given the givens.

He loves a good excuse to go out innawoods!  He doesn't do it as much as he used to, and a business partnership is probably as good an excuse as any.  Shame it's too cold for swimming, though.

And look!  The capitol building!  The garden!  The leaves, lit up by late-afternoon sunset!

The Doric portico! The statue of Ceres! The dome! 

And yes, the garden and the leaves and the sunset make for a gorgeous backdrop and foreground, it's true. 

She also takes some time to admire a few buildings around the State House. The museum just across the street is built in an entirely different style, which she spends some time looking at. 

"It's a shame it's too late in the day to go in." 

"Another time?  I hope I won't scare you off so quickly.  Maybe Sunday, if they're open on weekends?"

"Yes, that sounds good. Or maybe next week, if Wendy decides to come after all. She might find the museum interesting?" 

"She might!  How is she, by the by?  I didn't want to impose on her."

"She seems a little overwhelmed. She's having some issues with her family, but her agent and lawyer seem to be taking care of it." 

"Never a good sign when a lawyer is involved in family matters.  Maybe I should text her, just make sure she's..."  Tim trails off and his shrug travels through the guiding handhold.

She squeezes his hand, "Her lawyer seems to have things in hand. I think she may like to get to know you, though." 

"Hmmm."  Halfway through a thoughtful hum, a yawn escapes.  "'scuse me.  Yeah, maybe you're right.  I'll text her.  Not today, though."

"I'm glad. Are you tired? Or is that just the backlash?" His backlash is still coming, but she has been at this a while. It might be natural tiredness. 

“It’s fine, probably just backlash.  I’ll be okay.  Just can’t let you go for a while, is all.”

"Well, I don't have anywhere to be! Is there anything else I should see before we head back to the silo?" Besides the lovely historical downtown they're walking through, anyway. 

Hmmmm. Have you ever just gone out and explored?  Hmm.  No.

”Nothing that won’t be here tomorrow.  I could use some guiding, if you don’t mind heading in?  Er, more guiding.”

"Yes, of course. Hm, could you push your sleeve up?" 

Well, of course?  He can roll his sleeve up to the forearm and offer it to his new business partner.

Great, she wraps her near arm around his, hand settled on his arm, and her far hand around his wrist. 

"There, a little extra skin contact can't hurt." 

What a cozy business partner.  “Let’s head home?  I don’t want you lopsided for my benefit.” Wait. “Not home-home, but.  You know.”

"Mhm," armsqueeze! "Let's head back." 

Little sigh.  This is nice. "Yeah.  Silo first?  Maybe you can show me some neat tricks with your gemmaking, I thought it was cool at the mixer, but we had a goal of getting everyone to zero, I don't feel like you got a chance to really show off what you can do."

"Not really," she nods, "And we need to fetch my bags either way. I brought some of my collection, I can show you some things I can do?" 

"Sounds like a plan."  Tim guides his guide back to the silo, perhaps pausing occasionally to look at a particularly charming example of New England architecture or nature.

Oh they will definitely be pausing to admire the scenery! Luckily it's cool enough she doesn't want to stay out too long. 

Soon enough they're back at the silo, where Sara retrieves her bags from under the counter. 

"Here, I might as well show you the Healing Silo itself."  Knock knock on the vast security door which went unmentioned until now.  "It's an airlock setup,   The second door can only open if the first is shut, and vice-versa.  This place was built out of thick concrete for noise cancellation reasons, and we use that in case of accidents."  Into the first door they go!  Unless Sara decides that Tim is actually the serial killer, after all.

Hmm. She hasn't been getting any serial killer vibes thus far... She decides to chance it. 

"So you have two silos? This one, for your healing, and the other for recovery?"

"Well.  I mean.  Most of the time I just use this.  I guess my house counts?"  The outer door closes, the inner door opens, and Tim fails to kill anyone.  "The thing about power use is that it's more efficient when you're being guided, right?  So when I'm using my power in here, I'm either training with it or I'm actively being guided, or both.  The bottleneck on my ability to heal is guiding, I can use more power, but the backlash rate gets pretty bad the more I use.  So I can either use efficient low levels and guide afterwards, or less-efficient moderate levels while getting guided."  Or heavy levels and get guided extra afterwards.  Like today.  "I mean, I guess it's also bottlenecked on the fact that my power isn't...really built for healing, somehow.  It's actually decent if the injury is recent, but it's kind of stupid?  It won't push out shrapnel, and I'm still trying to figure out the rate at which different kinds of injury heal, and I don't want to break someone's arm while they're under an X-ray machine."  Are you ever going to say anything that isn't about yourself or your power?  Do you still have a personality, Timothy?  Or do you just have two thumbs and an esper power?  "Um.  But it's probably getting a little boring for you."

The theatre itself has gone significant renovations.  Instead of "stairs" on which multiple rows of chairs set, the room has been flattened.  To get down to the flat layer, one has to either use a recently-installed lift or walk down a similarly-recently-installed set of stairs.  There are individual monitors with about half a dozen game controllers beneath them.  The consoles seem to be installed into the wall, where they won't be trivially damaged.  All of the furniture is cheap, with an emphasis on pillows.

One corner seems to be a physical therapy area.  There are various tests, including the infamous 'rice grain' test, chopsticks, heavy-duty grip trainers, a blanket that seems to be composed of nothing but buttons and loops intended for the buttons to go through, and various other tests of dexterity.   

The entire room is splattered with photos of bulging biceps, with various warnings about watching your strength and if you have personal effects you want to keep intact, you need to go back and leave them at the cubbyholes BEFORE healing begins.

"Hum," she looks around, taking it all in. "It's all new to me," she points out.

"Do you have many problems with property damage, still? I suppose you must replace things your patients damage often, but yourself?" 

"Hardly ever, after the first month.  It's not really - risky for me, not, anymore.  But for my patients?  It's been described like 'the opposite of a stroke', where you have weakness on half your body?  You can tell people, but they don't understand it until they grind a pebble to dust with a finger and thumb.  Nobody's allowed in here who isn't augmented.  Um.  Would you like, to.  Er."  Wordless gesture at a giant pillow lying on the ground.

"Mm," she nods, "But let me get some layers off first." 

She'll drop her bags next to the pillow, and then pull off coat, hat, scarf, sweater, and shoes, leaving her in a short-sleeved turtleneck, skirt, and leggings. 

"I can go down another layer if you're comfortable with that? Em, take off my shirt, I mean. I'm wearing a bra, of course, a, mm, covering one?" 

"I, um.  Not right now?"  Shirt off, but the leggings stay on???  Huh.  "I usually guide with the, er, the legs.  So that my partner can do SOMETHING all day, instead of having their hands trapped."  And myself, but.  I asked for this, they didn't.  Tim will similarly shed layers, doffing his coap, shoes, socks, and overshirt.  He's now wearing dark-grey pants, a charcoal grey T-shirt, and a look of mild discomfort.

"Oh, that's fine with me, too." 

She'll wiggle and then kick out of her leggings, leaving the skirt where it is, and then flop down onto the pillow with an 'oof!' 

Tim takes a deep breath, counts to three, lets it out.  "For the record, I'm wearing shorts underneath this."  She's acting like it's normal, you're both espers, therefore it's normal.  Your feelings are stupid, and guiding is good, and also your organs probably liquefy if you don't get guided.  Therefore: Tim manages to take his pants off, revealing the fact that he is in fact wearing shorts, which match his charcoal-grey shirt.  Flop, then offer his legs to Sara?

Well, she wouldn't have been mad if he was only wearing underwear, but that's better, all things considered.

Shortly, their legs are tangled! 

And without further ado, Sara reaches out for her backpack from this position and drags it up to them, "My gems are in here." 

"And this is why leg-locks are the superior guiding position.  You can do most of what you were going to do ANYWAY, but with guiding!"  Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh.  "Oh, one sec, I'm gonna scooch a little bit, don't drop anything."  Reeeaaaaach for a pillow, a second pillow, and a third pillow.  Good enough to prop himself up so he can watch!  "Oh.  Um, would you like some extra pillows?"  Tim reaches behind his head in case the answer is 'yes'.

"It's very smart! And, I think that would help, yes," she scooches up herself, leaving room for the placement of pillows. 

Tim will lean forward and place his pillows behind her, then resentfully detangle for just long enough to acquire pillows of his own.  After a moment of thought, he also grabs some controllers.  "We don't have to play, but I don't wanna get up again if you decide you're tired of showing me your gems."

"But then I'll have to get tired of showing you yarn, and measuring your head for your hat." 

She will help him get settled again once he arrives, and then she hands him a plastic box full of rocks in many tiny compartments so she can pull two more out of her backpack and set them on her lap. 

"Well, we've already established that you've done your research.  I shouldn't be surprised that you'd come prepared."  Little smile.

Tim is entirely capable of holding a tacklebox full of rocks.  He has been training for the last four months to safely hold tackleboxes, and will accomplish this task with great aplomb and little fanfare.

"Mhm! You can take a look at those if you want," she is digging a few more things out of her bag, larger stones in boxes filled with stuffing to protect them from damage. "Don't worry about losing them, I can find them." 

"Oh.  Yeah, I guess you could."  No, it wasn't stupid to worry about losing them, of course she was going to be able to find them, she's got stonesense or whatever, but this is the one time in 9,999 that you wouldn't need to worry about losing a small valuable thing into the abyss of a plush rug.  Tim will poke through the gems and look at some of the more interesting ones.  Rumor has it that there's an orange one lurking about somewhere?  Maybe he'll be able to find it.

She did hand him that box, yes! They look a little dull inside their little compartment, but when he takes one of the larger ones out and lets the light shine through it, the glow is really something. 

"You found the spessartites! What do you think, in person?" 

"These are really cool, actually!"  Huh, they're kind of translucent?  Looks pretty cool, I can see the lights through it.  The sleepy esper is distracted even from guiding by the prospect of a cool new toy.  "And you help find these?"

"These ones are German," she nods, "I found them a new vein there. This one, though," she taps the larger stone he's holding, "That was a later gift." 

"What's the story behind it?"

"I go into crystal stores all the time of course," she sets the large rock boxes on top of her tacklerock boxes as she speaks, but doesn't unbox them yet. "The, mm, spiritual ones? I made friends with the owner of one in Germany, while I was there, and she sent it to me when it came into her hands. She thought I needed to, hm... Take control of my life? And spessartite garnet helps, apparently." 

"Huh.  That was sweet of her."  What do you even say to that.  "Did you manage to take control of your life afterwards?"  Half a smile, enough to let her know he's not taking it too seriously.

"I think so. It took some shocks, but I think I'm doing better, now." 

Would he like to see the big gems? There's her amalgam ruby project, which is a dangerously large ruby she frankly shouldn't be carrying around with her, but who would believe she'd be carrying around a giant ruby? She has been carefully perfecting it for several months now, after forming it from a bunch of tiny fragments. 

Or how about the amethyst snake bracelet, with its intricately formed pattern of dark and light purple scales, which she can gently untwist to wrap around her wrist? 

Or the third box, which contains an intricate cameo carved into smoky quartz, depicting a mother bear with three cubs coming over a rise?

Do geese honk!?!  Of course Tim is curious!!!

is.  Is that a ruby which is, poetically speaking, BIGGER THAN TIM’s head???  That is the largest gem of any kind Tim has seen in his ENTIRE LIFE.

The wristband is also very cool!  It’s very cool how nobody could possibly wear that except by Sara’s consent. Really, truly permanent accessories sound interesting well, it’s not really on the cards.  No use thinking about it.  If she demonstrates her ability to wear it, Tim may snuggle his legs closer.

The quartz cameo does get an impressed “awwww” and several minutes of fascinated staring from various angles.  And he’ll hold it up to the light, too.

”You’re very skilled.  It’s obvious that you’ve put in the hours to get here.”  It is very clear in Tim’s voice that this is one of the highest compliments he has on tap.

"Thank you! It seemed a shame not to become skilled, if this is my power. Though, I carved the cameo by hand, some, with normal tools. I only used my power on it to touch up any mistakes." 

She is in fact wearing the snake bracelet now, coiled half a dozen times around her forearm. She appreciates the extra surface area for guiding, though he runs through her backlash from that brief control fairly quickly. 

"I pulled this one out of a large amethyst formation I found at a craft market in rural Saskatchewan. I'm still not sure where it came from." 

She will also explain the ruby. 

"The pieces came from a mine I surveyed in Australia. I pulled out all the fragments and combined them into this. It wasn't very clear, at first, but I've been working on it." 

Snake bracelet is very cool!!  Tim will, if permitted, run his fingers over it over and over again until he realizes he's being weird unprofessional about it.

"The little image?  Sculpture?  Anyway, point is, that's actual skill.  Not just brute forcing a power, you know?  It's cooler to me, anyway."

"You're still working on that?!  What's it going to look like when it's done, a lighthouse!?!?!"  Tim is perhaps slightly more overwhelmed than anything by the sheer size of that monster ruby.

Maybe she has a little blush going from the cameo compliments. 

"A cameo is a gem - or a shell, I guess - with something carved into it like this. Maybe you have seen museum pieces or something in a film? Where a woman wears a white stone with a face carved into it on a necklace or brooch?" 

She shrugs. 

"The Ruby won't get larger," she assures him, "I'm just making it clearer. Here," she offers it to him, and digs a small light out of her kit, "If you look when it's lit up, you can see the inclusions- em, the cracks, and imperfections. They are hard to fix without ruining the structure of the gem." 

"Oh, right."  Better social noise, Tim.  "I don't think it ever occurred to me to, er, try to figure out what to call those."  Also I don't really go to museums much.

Ohhh, that makes sense now.  Okay, yeah, I do see the little blemishes and lines on it.  "What does it look like when you get rid of those?  And why is it so hard to do?"

"It's all so small, I have to move slowly and, em... Experimentally? They are bits of other things stuck inside the gem, and I have to extract them without damaging it.

"Without the inclusions, it will shine more... Uniformly? And the cracks will not be visible."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to remove the impurities before merging the ruby chips together?"  Tim turns the precious ruby over in his hands.  How long did it take her to do this?  Especially given guiding costs.  Wow.

"Maybe? It would have been easier to get the ones in the middle," she admits, sheepish, "But I didn't realize the problem until I had already merged them all. I could take it apart again, but..." 

She shrugs.

"It is more a piece of busywork than anything. Luc, my current partner, needs guiding more often than I do, as he is a combat esper. So I need something to do to guide him more efficiently, on days I have not taken a survey." 

On days she has, it will often take multiple sessions to get her back to zero. 

"A piece of busywork."  What a world, when a gem the size of my fist is 'just busywork'.  Wait.  Current partner.  Combat esper.  "Oh, I hadn't realize you were already partnered?"  Augh.  Uptalk, why.  I need to get a shock collar for 'um' and uptalk.

"Yes, but we are not very compatible, and he is moving away. I hope he finds someone better, there."

"Oh.  I see.  That explains why you were at the mixers, then."  Tim's eyes are pointed at the Ruby, but they're not really seeing it right now.

"Mhm. It was only a temporary arrangement. It has been," she hums, counting back, "Seven months? Time passes so quickly..."

...Something is maybe wrong? But she can't figure out what, exactly. 

"I think I will work on it some when I am guiding you," she continues, instead of asking. "If you want to see." 

Tim's response is a slightly distant, "I'd like that."  His eyes are still fixed on the Ruby, his hands unmoving.  How long does it take to get like this?  Have I become like this already and just never noticed?

She reaches out to touch his hand, "Tim? What's wrong?" 

Tim doesn't startle, because he's spent the last four months of his life drilling himself out of the urge to flinch.  He freezes, instead.  "Um.  I'm sorry."  Hand the Ruby back?  before he gets so lost in his own thoughts again that a touch on the hand is sufficient to startle him

She'll take the ruby back, sure, but her hand stays. 

"You don't need to be sorry. You didn't do anything. That's why I was worried, actually." 

"I just - was thinking.  I didn't mean to ignore you.  Sorry."

She shifts, uncertain, but, "Kiyaam, so long as you are alright," is what she says. 

"No, I'm fine!  Um.  Kiyaam?"  Is she trilingual too?  I mean, I'm trilingual, but it doesn't really count, I sound like a bumpkin to any actual French speaker.  I'm lucky Sara let me practice with her.

"It means, hm, relax? It's okay? Don't worry? In Michif." 

Sara sometimes sounds a little like a bumpkin in French, too. Especially when shes tired. Luckily, she hasn't lapsed too far into Michif at any point while talking to him, so he shouldn't have caught any bad habits, outside those native to the Quebecois dialect in general. 

Oh, just a Social Noise.  Got it.  "It's fine.  I'm good."  Note to self: look up what a 'michif' is later.  "Sorry.  I'm fine."  Are you ever going to stop apologizing.  "Er."  You need to change the topic.  "D'you ever get used to being an esper?"  Wait that's not what shoot it's too late.  Improvise.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask? I mean... I have somewhat become used to it. But it hasn't even been two years."

She thinks about it, though. 

"I'm used to guiding, and guiding norms... And I'm used to using my powers, though that took a lot of actually using them. The money is still shocking, a little. The safety, I suppose? I never have to worry about a dungeon choosing to kidnap me..." 

She trails off, here, and draws and lets out a deep breath.

Tim's voice is slow, halting and it's pretty obvious that he's been chewing this over for a while, but hasn't quite finished processing.  "It's not...not just the money, but that's part of it.  We can travel by teleport.  We can be comfortable, financially, even if we just do nothing but cuddle all day.  You can casually haul around a jillion dollars in gems and be confident that you will not be robbed, and if you are, the robber will swiftly regret it.  And if you lose them just to a bridge, you could afford to pay a SCUBA diver and maybe a sensor esper to find it for you, if you really wanted.  It's like...ancient nobility, almost?  Except instead of political rights and good nutrition, we have superpowers.  And instead of duties to the king or emperor, we have confluences."

"It is a lot of responsibility, and a lot of privilege," and now she is peering into her ruby, though she is more thoughtful than unseeing. "No one chooses to be an esper. It isn't inherited - or only barely, certainly not consistently... It isn't fair, though, yes. No one can work hard every day of their life and then awaken as a reward for their effort. Whatever causes it does not choose espers for human decency, or morals, or kindness. Or for willingness, resilience, or suitability.

"I'm not sure what to say about it. We are humans with a gift and a curse," she shrugs. "We didn't choose it, we can't get rid of it, though we can ignore it. It is what it is. What we make of it." 

She focuses harder on the ruby, for a moment, carefully pulling a needle out of the depths of the gem and into a layer closer to the surface. 

"And I chose to make an enormous ruby," she smiles, wry, and shrugs, again, "It doesn't really mean anything to me, but to anyone else it would be a symbol of obscene wealth. It's only valuable because of its beauty and rarity, though, not any inherent great value. Well," she considers it, "Maybe it will be useful for some kind of laser once it is clear."

"It's just, sometimes I realize I've only been like this for less than six months.  Before.  Before my awakening, I was just glad that Maman owned her house outright and she would let me stay there 'till I had enough saved to get my own place.  Now, I could buy ten houses if I was willing to mortgage a few months of income and be very sleepy when not in a dungeon.  I thought I was used to it, and then, something like this just.  Throws everything into deeper perspective.  It's just.  A lot."

How long does a combat esper live?

My, the depths of that ruby sure are fascinating.  They must be, the way Tim stares at them.  He does squirm a little closer as the backlash ticks up.  Maybe he'll be done in a few hours and Sara can be free of him they can do something else.

"Mm. I was an orphan living in foster care. Or, effectively an orphan. I have no idea if my father is alive. Now I will be able to afford my degree with no student loans and no scholarships, I am capable of holding my own against a dungeon long enough to find its core, and I carry around a king's ransom in gemstones." 

The ruby can go back in its silk bag, now, and thence into its stuffing-filled box. 

"I think I'm still the same person I was before, even if I grew." 

She hopes so, anyway. Would Klara recognize who she is, now? 

Tim continues staring off into the distance, before he realizes that he's effectively staring at his new business partner's abdomen and shakes his head.  Get your shit together, Tim.  "Um.  I didn't know my father.  Maman came from the old country, before I was born.  I think he must've died in a dungeon, but.  We don't really.  Talk about it.  And now, here I am."  Gesture around at the old theatre.  This is some hard reciprocation, I wish I didn't have to no, it doesn't matter what you want.  She offered up something real, you have to reciprocate.  It's the rules.

"He was just a boyfriend that didn't want to take responsibility." 

She shakes her head, "This is getting too heavy, again. Désolé?" 

"Non, je suis." Okay.  How do you recover from this.  You recover by being charming, and not by staring off at your partner's tum.

You don't know how to be charming.  What's a good substitute for being charming.  Well, you know that silently staring at your partner's tum will not work, probably being silent won't work, either.  "I am, unfortunately, rather dense.  My maman always told me I could always be useful as a dead weight."  Little grin?

She elbows him gently, "I don't know about that. At the very least, you can carry the weight, rather than being it?" 

"It was when I was holding down cutting boards, or keeping the stove from moving while she was scrubbing the inside.  All places a dead weight is useful.  But I do my best to do my part."  Without us, humanity dies.

"I guess so." She shifts a bit, finding a more comfortable position. "I do what I can." 

...their laps are still full of boxes of gemstones. 

"Do you want to see more of these, or... We could play some games?" 

She doesn't seem reassured.  "I mean it, Sara, it's just a family joke.  I know I'm not a dead weight.  Um.  Could we...play some games together?" Maybe if I have my head in a game, I can keep my foot out of my mouth.  Is that a mixed metaphor?  I can't tell and I don't care.

"Okay," she shakes her head, "Désolé, maybe I'm a little sensitive to that sort of thing. Let's try those games," she nods, and starts shuffling boxes back into her bag while he sets that up. 

"Please don't - apologize.  It's not your fault.  C'est moi qui suis désolé, Sara - I'll tell Maman to lay off that humor around you." Wait, I'm introducing her to Maman?  Aaaauuuuggggghhhhhhh Timothy why are you LIKE THIS.  Boot up the console, take your pick of games.

"I think I'll be able to tell how she means it? I think it will be fine," she presses affectionately against his side. "Marsi, though." 

The last of the jewels get put away, and Sara shifts in place again, shuffling some pillows around to make her spot more comfortable for watching the screen. 

"What games do you have?" She probably won't have heard of many, but it doesn't hurt to ask. 

"Sara, I am an esper.  I have any game available on this console that is playable with a controller."  Weird way to say 'merci'.  Is Tim feeling confident enough to stick his tongue out at Sara playfully?  Signs indicate the answer is 'yes, very briefly'.  "But of the games I like to play..."  Tim offers up a pretty wide variety.  Cute find-the-camouflaged-cat genre games feature prominently.  There are roughly a dozen horror games that were played recently.  A handful of tactics games, but these are largely single-player and Tim hasn't played them that much.  There are quite a number of two-player co-op games that haven't been played in a month, akin to Overcooked, It Takes Two, and a modern homage to Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes*.

*no relation to the thread of the same name.

She stops herself from covering her smile, and looks at the games on offer. 

"Can I try one of the cat games? Those look safe enough for reminding me how to use controllers." It's been a little while since she used a console rather than a computer. 

"Of course!"  She always said they were good for learning to pick out details against a confusing backdrop just stop.  Enjoy the moment.  Play a game.  The game has a cooperative and a competitive mode, but Tim is going to select the 'co-op campaign' option unless Sara wants to engage in a high-stakes battle of who can find cute cats faster?

They should at least start with co-op, though she probably won't change it later. She doesn't really care to compete with other people. 

Tim's mostly a co-op guy himself, he gets his competitive jollies on the training mats.  You move the cursor like so and mark a cat as found like this, and sometimes cats are hidden behind environmental objects, see how there's hint of a tail sticking out behind this leaf?

So cute... 

Oddly, she's better at spotting the little signs of a hidden cat than the ones that are camouflaged in plain sight. 

Well, Tim is gentleman enough to try and leave Sara a reasonable number of hidden cats to find.  It would be silly to expect a rank amateur cat-finder to stack up against a six-game veteran of the genre.  Tim will aim to let Sara find at least two-tenths of the cats, unless she notices he's sandbagging.

She notices but she doesn't mind! It's sweet of him if, again, a little silly. 

"If I played this single-player I bet you'd be vibrating in place over all the cats I miss," she giggles. 

oh no.  she knows.  "Ummmmmm.  I would...try...not to....."

She giggles a little harder, "Maybe I should get this at home and then I can come back more seasoned, hm?" 

Tim chortles.  Just absolutely read to filth.  "If you want to!  I like them, they're pretty relaxing but they're not just junk food games, either."

"Mhm! Do you know if there's dog ones? I like both, but cats used to give me the sniffles, so it's, you know. Habit, to like dogs more?" 

"There must be somewhere, I think they do cats because a dog will run home to you as soon as you walk home.  A cat is more likely to fall asleep under the sewing machine or in a pantry somewhere.  I'm glad you don't need to avoid kitties anymore."

"Me too! I still think I'm going to get a puppy at some point, not a kitten. Maybe after the Confluence? I can't now, not when I'll be so busy, but after there should be plenty of time..." 

"That would be cute."  Good for someone else, but not for me.  "Puppies are very cute, but they're a lot of work, no?  Training and shots and not letting them eat things they shouldn't?"

... oh.

Tim stills again.  Takes a deep breath.  Lets it out.

Not anymore.

"Yes, I want to be there for all the training and silly cute things they do. If I got one now, I would miss it all. It wouldn't be right to put all that work on someone else, and I think we wouldn't bond as well?" 

...more mysterious Tim reactions? Sara is going to... Ignore this, for now. 

"Yeah.  You would bond.  Over the training."  Oh my god are you for serious why do you have a lump in your throat are a fucking adult or not.

Well there's clearly a problem here! How about instead of continuing down this track they try one of those horror games? It's late enough to be thematic. 

Sure.  A horror game.  That's good.

Wait.  You have a checklist for this.

"In case I get jumpscared, I'm gonna give you some reinforcement.  It uh, it should be fine for this, but can we move your personal effects to one of the cubbies?"

"Oh," she nods, "Okay, just the ones up there...?"

Untangling and hauling herself out of the pillow is a bit of a process. She sets her bag in a cubby and returns to flompf back down with much greater ease. 

Tim of course helps Sara get re-cozied with her Pillow Pile and will respectfully twine his legs with hers.

"The big danger here is to the controller.  If it breaks, that is fine.  We have dozens, just put the broken one in the pile.  I have a local repair guy who 3D-prints replacement cases for these.  If you smash the electronics, that's still fine, we'll set them aside for spare parts.  I got tired of buying thirty of these a month, it's down to five these days.  If you tear the cushion, that's not a big deal, we have dozens more."

That having been said: Game!  There are jumpscares!  There are monsters!  There is teamwork required!  Some of the monsters are killable, if one person can stun it with an environmental weapon and the second can pile on afterwards!  There are environmental hazards that require teamwork to cross!

If Sara is a big gamer, she will notice that this game is designed to be played with two people.  One person cannot win it solo, it's literally impossible.

She does, in fact, wreck... A couple... Controllers. Not to the point the electronics are ruined, but the cases will definitely need replacing. She is very unused to this sort of experience, and it's been almost two years since she last saw a horror movie. The jumpscares jumpscare her. 

"Maybe we should test how much of your strength I can endure with my durability on," she says after the second one, sheepish. 

She doesn't just want to stop playing once she notices the two-player mechanics. And, separate from that, the hazards are also interesting, like a kind of puzzle! 

"Um.  If you're sure?  The usual way I test is I pinch your little fingertip, and you tell me when it hurts?  I've broken about sixty of these, you really don't need to feel bad, Sara."  I'm pretty close to done, I think.

"We should test it at some point, why not now?" 

She ticks her endurance on as strong as it can go. A small trickle of backlash is immediately apparent to both of them. 

"If you hurt me you can heal it afterwards, right? It would be a very recent injury." 

Hmmm.  Okay.  He...sees the logic.  He doesn't like the logic, but he sees it.  Okay.  Deeeeep breath.  Let it out.  "Okay.  Let me know when it hurts."

Timothy will use the following list, stopping the first time Sara indicates discomfort or if he scares himself he's commited to a plan, and he'll follow it out, and if something happens, they have a recovery path available.

The amount of strength necessary to squish a bug.
The amount of strength needed to bruise a normal person.
The amount of strength needed to drive a nail into a two-by-four.
The amount of strength needed to deform a piece of copper the size of Sara's wrist.
The amount of strength needed to deform a piece of steel the size of Sara's wrist.

Partway to the fifth level, she releases a hiss of discomfort and a, "Stop." 

IMMEDIATE STOP

She immediately will feel his backlash ticking up at a rate which outpaces the guiding.  Were there fingermarks or incipient bruising on her arm?  Not anymore there for long, there aren't!  Is she prone to jumping, startling, or sudden movements?  Inquiring superstrength would like to know.

She startles a little when he does, but then holds very still as she feels the healing go to work. She really doesn't want to rip her skirt or something. 

"I'm okay. I just stopped you as soon as it seemed it could be dangerous at all." 

"Okay.  That was way overkill, but better safe than sorry.  You should be fine now, I can tell, that wasn't much of anything and it was very recent.  Should just be a little more guiding needed, maybe fifteen minutes, I think?  Probably?"

"Mhm, that feels right. I think I need- maybe twenty minutes? Twenty-five? To zero out? My endurance is, em, mostly set and forget? But in use it is quite inefficient." 

"If I set and forget mine, without sufficient guiding in-use, I would pass out.  Do you think your third controller will survive the evening?"

"We can hope. I take it your startle reactions are stronger than my endurance?" She will carefully take hold of another controller as she speaks. Back into the horror trenches? 

"Well, it's not like I'm going to startle directly into kicking you from a perfect stance.  I think you'll be okay."  Back into the horror trenches!  Tim has been studiously training himself out of flinching, and may be susceptible to freezing.  But Sara is perfectly safe from inadvertent flying kicks from across the room.

It's a lot more fun for her when she doesn't have to split her attention so as not to destroy the controllers! 

Sara discovers she actually quite likes horror games. They get her heart racing in a way few sitting around activities do! Why did she never- well, she knows why she never. 

She's determined not to think about that right now, though. Monsters! Partner attacks to take down monsters! 

"This game really shows how much better a, em, dangerous situation is, with a friend. It's also so much easier to laugh at something scary when someone else is there. You can enjoy how... Objectively silly? It is. Even if it is also scary." 

"They are, though!  Brains are stupid, and the things that scare them are stupid.  I really like co-op games, it's like the old joke - how do you get the strength of ten men?  You get nine of your drinking buddies to help you.  Behind you, right!"

She dodges and turns! The monster can get whacked, and thus set up for a take-down! 

"Mhm," she swivels to check for anything creeping up on them as he finishes it. "It's a lot like a dungeon, this game." 

Two in the head, make sure it's dead.  "That's a little bit about why we picked it up.  I play the scary games so I don't get spooked by the real thing.  It's just, 'oh look, another weird skeleton monster', you know?"

"Makes sense!" Not asking about the 'we'. "I think there's something around that corner," she adds, instead. 

"Okay.  I've still got a noisemaker, you wanna bonk it when it comes around?  Then I go for the takedown?"

"Sounds good," she swaps her flashlight for her bonkin' stick and gets ready. 

Noise!  Monster trundling along to see what made that noise!  Extreme teamwork-focused violence!

Bonking! Double-tapping! And then:

"I think I'm almost zeroed?" 

"Hmm.  I think so?  You definitely don't have much racked up right now.  I'm glad I didn't have to pick you up to appease your backlash."  Am I though, picking people up is fun.  Yes, you are, because that would involve her suffering.

She stifles a giggle, "I'm not sure how much that would actually help. A little, I suppose? And it would mean I couldn't try to climb onto a roof, I guess." 

"Yes, and I might have to contend with your kicking and screaming to lift you higher.  Which I would, to be clear!  But.  It would be a challenge.  ... I don't actually know what you act like backlashed, really."  That's not a question, comments are allowed.

"Em... I did mention fighting the nurses," she coughs. 

"At first I just keep trying to go up? And I feel I can't breathe, so I hyperventilate, more and more. It's later when I will attack people who try to stop me, and I get dizzy and can't understand people very well.

"So... Yes, if I'm ever badly off, you may have to contend with kicking and screaming." 

At least her power is defensive.  She fought the nurse, she didn't win against the nurse.  Heh.  'Win'.  "I think that'll be fine.  But, try not to need it.  I don't want you to feel unsafe around me, afterwards."

Nod, "I try not to let my backlash accumulate that much ever." 

"Mmm.  Good plan.  Do you need a break?"  from me "Stretch your legs, use the restroom, that kinda thing?  Or do you wanna see if we can finish our escape?"

"Let's finish! Well, how much longer should it be? I will need the restroom... Soon-ish?" 

"I think about twenty minutes?  It's been a little while since I played this."

"That's okay, then. Or I could take a bathroom break now and we could play more? I'm having fun!" 

"Let's take a break now, I sometimes get pretty into it and forget to do things like 'eat' or 'pee'."  Untangle, kip up, offer Sara a hand up if she wants one?

She will take a hand up happily! And then she will disappear into the restroom for a little while. 

Okay.  It's sevennish.  She's not tired of you yet, you're having a good time gaming.  You haven't put your foot TOO deep in your mouth.  Can you play videogames with a potential business partner and not screw up?  Signs point to yes. Hm.  Probably a good idea for Tim to use the restroom too.  Splash some water on your face.  Sara will probably make it back first, Tim's taken a few minutes to think.

Sara does in fact make it back first, and is perched among small pillows on the large pillow eating from a ziplock bag of trail mix she'd taken out of her bag. 

"The weather thinks it might snow a little overnight," she tells him as he exits the restroom - she's been checking her phone as she waits. 

"Oh, good.  We're lucky to live in a place that sees it."  Streeeetch.  Shoulder rolls, toe-touches.  Flop on the ground, sit up.  Sit cross-legged, and push the knee to the ground to stretch out the hip.  "Sorry.  I get a little antsy sitting around all day.  And stiff.  D'you think we'll get enough snow to make snowshoeing worth it, or just enough to make driving nasty?"

"It looks like it might melt down over Friday," she shakes her head sadly. "Hey, do you have any, hm, those games where you dance or play sports? Motion detection games." 

Slight sigh at the lack of snow.  It's so pretty, and if you're cold it's your own fault for not wearing enough.  "Oh, not really.  I suppose I could get one, I think we were concerned someone would stomp the dancepad or something.  D'you want me to pick one up for next time?"

"Some of them don't even need a dancepad. There's a camera that picks up your movements, so you never actually touch anything but the floor. It could be good for not having to spend all day avoiding moving too much?" 

She pulls her browser up on her phone to show him the site she'd found on them. 

Tim is suddenly and acutely aware of the fact that he's laying on the ground, Sara is next to him, and wearing a skirt.  And no longer wearing leggings.  Thankfully, Sara Does Not Exist, Except For Her Face.  "Huh.  That might be a good idea, I wouldn't have thought of it because mostly we don't want people moving.  But we don't have to tell the patients that it's an option."  Get the phone out, add an Action Item to the list.  Is Sara about to catch a glimpse of the list of Action Items?

He's doing mysterious Tim things again, she notices. At least he doesn't seem distressed much this time?

She does catch a glimpse of a list, but doesn't dwell on it enough to really read it. Tim makes lists; this is a known fact, or at least not a surprising one. 

"I guess you might need to reinforce the floors a bit, and maybe get some clothes that are specifically for the dancing games," she nods. "It could be more trouble than it's worth."

"The clothes for me are all like this, that way I can't accidentally put on something civilian-rated and rip it off by accident.  Try it yourself if you want."  Tim offers her a piece of his collar, which stretches like absolute crazy.  "I used to like wearing scrubs at work, work clothes the rest of the time, and my gi at class, but then everything changed.  I had to stop doing gi-based jiujitsu and go to nogi instead, which is a little different.  You can't collar choke me anymore, for example, because my collar just streeeeeeeeeetches allllllllll the way out."

...she streeeeeeeetches the collar a long way out. 

"Hee, I can see that." 

"Exactly.  But it opened up other possibilities, like this - " Tim puts his left arm between the collar and his throat.  "Now wrap the collar around the back of my neck, so my arm is trapped behind the collar."  If Sara follows instructions, Tim's left arm will be tied to his neck using his own collar.

"Hm..." She does as asked, and peers at the result, "Hm, you can make improvised slings," she notes, "Without destroying the clothing." 

"Well, you could do that with normal clothing, too?  But yes, this would work better.  Just get a little knot going, right?  Because you can only pin my arm as long as you hold onto the front of my collar."  Tim lifts his chin away from his neck, in case Sara would like to try it?

Sure, she can do that. Now his arm is stuck in his own clothing? Oh, but- 

Tim does his best to wriggle out, and will manage it after a few seconds.  "It works better if you've got me in mount, you wrap the collar around my throat, then shove my elbow.  See, you've got my left hand on my right collarbone."  He puts his arm back in the 'sling', then uses his other hand to put Sara's right hand on his left elbow.  "Now if you shove my elbow, go on, it's fine.  See how my hand goes over my shoulder, and I can't recruit my full muscles to fight your hand on my elbow or your collar grip on my arm?  Now imagine you're on top of me, you've got my bicep pressing on my own throat and face, and you're pressing your body weight into that.  It's called 'facemask' and it's miserable, it's great.  Even if someone has super-strength, biomechanics are still a thing.  The less I can recruit muscle groups, the less my super strength actually matters."

Walking someone through performing a chokehold is a Normal Activity, and to the extent that Tim has thoughts, they're about conveying known concepts from his brain to Sara's.  Whether Sara is interested in learning to crush Tim's throat and mouth with his own arm is a secondary concern, he's busy Teaching A Trick.

She follows instructions as they come, fascinated, "You'd need to be sure of a monster's physics to use this sort of thing on them, but not every opponent is a monster," she muses. Sometimes you need to neutralize the victims, too, depending on the dungeon. And sometimes a fight will have nothing to do with a dungeon at all. 

"And some of them don't even run on biology or physics, so it won't matter for them.  But some victims are - distraught.  So I've stopped practicing pain submissions and fingerlocks and wristlocks so much, I do large joint manipulations instead.  And I've taken up more striking.  I liked doing grappling, because you can stop on the instant and as long as you're good about that, you won't get hurt, right?  I can't spar by hitting someone as hard as possible, I'd run out of partners pretty fast.  But, well, dungeon monsters."

Nodnod! "Yes, I've run into a few victims like that. Thankfully I can generally get them into a hold of some kind, and then good luck to them, getting away from me." 

She will untangle and unknot his shirt, now. 

"So, what kind of cost were your clothes? Could you get a few sets for the healing silo?" 

"Honestly, I don't remember.  They were a business expense, and Bill took care of it.  We issue sets to all of the patients, are you wanting to try some on?  We should have something in your size.  Honestly, we could probably use any sizes if people didn't mind them being really, really skin-tight."  Why did you say that.  Change the subject. "Do you do any grappling, or just enough to keep stressed civilians from running away from their rescuers?"

"Oh, I thought- never mind! Though maybe I should wear some tomorrow? I brought one of my usual guiding outfits, shorts and a tank top, fitted but not too tight.

"Mm, I know the basics, but I didn't focus too much on it. My job is tracking when I'm in dungeons, not so much rescues or combat." 

What did I miss.  "Oh, it's up to you, I just - nevermind.  What were you thinking?  And if you ever want to practice, I'd be happy to work with you!"

"Oh I just didn't realize you provided the stretchy clothing to patients. Silly of me, really. But I wouldn't mind practicing, sometime! Maybe you should teach me jiu-jitsu." 

"Oh, yes, it's just easier if there's a uniform.  After the third time someone accidentally flashed the other patients, we gave up on letting people exercise good judgment, because they didn't.  Shorts and a tank top should be fine.  Er.  The shorts are exercise shorts, right?  No button?  And I'd love to teach you how to fold clothes!"

"Yes, they're an elastic material. Is that what jiu-jitsu means?"

"Oh, it's just a joke.  'The gentle art of folding clothes while other people are still wearing them'."

"Oh," this gets a little laugh out of her. "Okay. Then yes, I'd like to learn to fold clothes from you sometime." 

Speaking of folding, she bends forward and stretches out to wrap her hands around her feet, sighing at the pull in her back. 

"But for now, I'd like to beat up some more skeleton monsters, I think." 

Skeletons are ready to be smashed!  Puzzles are solved!  Really, this game emphasizes coordination quite a bit - they have to verbally give feedback back and forth to do some of the puzzles.  It's a good way to either discover you can't work with someone no matter what, or build compatibility and a sense of how the other person reacts to challenges.

Tim is hoping Sara's having a good time with the jumpscares and monster beatdowns and the narrow escapes from the occasional unkillable boss monster, and he'll glance at her every so often to make sure that she actually looks like she's enjoying herself.

The boss is the most annoying part! She doesn't like that they can't kill them, but hopefully that will change at some point? 

Everything else is great fun, though, and even the narrow escapes make her laugh in relief afterwards. 

The unkillable-but-delayable boss monsters are usually killable via MacGuffin.  You can stun them and delay them, but really, the answer is to just keep moving.  Five minutes later(subjectively) but four hours later(objectively), the unkillable-but-delayable boss monsters have been slain and Our Heroes have escaped the town they're in, but Tim is fighting the good fight against a yawn.

Sara and Tim might be a moderately well oiled machine by the end of it, at least in the context of the video game. As for the bosses, she doesn't care too much if it's via MacGuffin, so long as they finally die! 

When the game is finished, and they're sitting in the menu once more, Sara releases a yawn of her own, stretches, and checks the time.

 "Oh! It's late." It's about eleven thirty! 

"Mmmyeah."  Tim is floppier than usual, and seems to have wormed his way into a pillow pile on one end and Sara's legs on the other at some point.  Relatively recent habits die hard, it seems.

Sara giggles, "Do you want to sleep out here? It's pretty comfy." She pats the nearest Tim-part she can reach. 

It's probably some part of his leg, anywhere from knee to foot.  "Mmmh."

Cute. "Okay," she shifts in place, "Give me a second to go to the restroom and brush my teeth?" 

No audible response, but if she tries to get up, she'll find that Tim is sleepily clinging as best he can with his calves and feet.  Which is better than the average human, but not very.

She can wriggle free from his grasp, then. 

"Be right back," she promises, grabbing her duffle on the way past. 

In the bathroom, she changes into sleep clothes, uses the toilet, washes up, brushes her teeth. All told it takes her a little under ten minutes. 

Tim has started to snore lightly.  He seems to have flopped diagonally over the enormous floor pillow.  It's not literally a complete spread-eagle, but his left arm is sticking straight-out, he's resting his forehead on his right arm, his right leg is sticking out to the right, and his left leg is in a "#4" position.  However, the room is full of floor pillows so if Sara wants her own, there about twenty others available.

Hm, yes. She will drag one a bit closer and then flop down on it herself, no need to disturb Tim's floppage. 

...she will steal back one of the small pillows she was using. It's a very nice shape. 

That done, she tucks herself under her impractically long scarf and drifts off to sleep. 

Eight hours and forty-three minutes later...

Tim wakes in the Healing Silo.  It's not uncommon for it to happen, but usually it's in the evening when he's trying to zero out.  At least his pillow is cozy.  He seems to have rolled over onto another pillow overnight.  Good decision, Sleepy Tim.  10/10 very coze.

Wait.  That IS a pillow.  Right?

Oh, whew, it really is just a pillow, for a second there I thought...well.  It's fine.  Restless sleeping isn't really a surprise, but that could have been awkward.

It is, in fact, the pillow Sara slept on overnight, however. Luckily for his peace of mind, Sara wasn't on it when he rolled there. 

Instead, she is seated on their original pillow from last night, watching something on her phone with headphones in and sipping on a bottle of coffee she'd pulled out of her bag. She's wearing a fluffy, pale purple robe which covers whatever is underneath, and her hair looks a little damp. 

When he moves, she looks over at him. 

"Bon matin," she greets, cheerful. "Sleep well?" 

Tim is too sleepy to do cheerful.  "Bon Matin."  Yaaaawwwwn.  Roll.  Sleepy once-over of his new partner.  "Bon matin."  Sniff.  Sniff.  Is that smell coffee?  How?  Did she find where he hid the battery-powered espresso maker and the last of her coffee beans?

Nope! It's a shelf-stable store-bought bottle. When she notices him sniffing around, she laughs and digs another out of her bag. 

"Here. I keep a couple on me in case I feel sleepy in class." 

Tim reflexively takes it and stares blankly at it for a moment.  "Ohhhhh."  Open.  Sip.  Sip.  Ahhhh.  "Thanks, Sara.  This is pretty good."  Sip sip.

She nods! "I tested every kind at my local grocery store, and this one is the best. Though, the French Vanilla is okay." Sip sip indeed!

"When do you usually start healing people? I didn't ask after today's schedule last night," and she really should have, oops. 

"Oh, about nine o'clock.  What time izzit?

She shows him her phone, "Eight forty-seven. Forty-eight," she corrects herself as it ticks over. 

"Shit!"  Zoom out of the Healing Silo, to one of the cubbies, grab his stuff.  Pop back in through the airlock(it takes so long).  "Anything you don't mind risking, put in a cubby!  If you haven't!  Sorry!"  Even with Esper Hearing, Sara probably can't hear the shower running in one of the full baths, but she can hear the door closing slamming.

Shower thought: What's she wearing under that robe?  She's sensible, right?  She can get dressed if she needs to, she has like five minutes, surely that'll be fine.  It'll be fine.

Six minutes later, Tim reappears, wearing a different pair of black elastic shorts and a burnt orange T-shirt.  "Ready for everyone to come in?"

Sara is sitting in the same place when he gets back, but she has shed her robe and her bag has been put away somewhere. Now she is wearing a midriff baring tank top and quarter-thigh length shorts, both in black, stretchy material, though the shorts look a little sturdier than the top. 

"I think so," she gestures to herself, "Is this okay?" 

"Yeah, you look good."  Augh.  Word choice.  "Er.  Your outfit.  Looks good.  For this."    Okay, just pretend you didn't say...any of that.

"Thanks!"

She shifts some small pillows around to make more space on the big one, "Come sit? Or do you need to do some kind of orientation?" 

"Yeah, I uh.  Need to give the orientation.  Then I'll join you."  She is so good at ignoring my inability to keep my dumb mouth shut, I'm very glad about it.  Open the inner door, let everyone in.  This takes A While because some of the patients are using the lift, some of them are walking, and some of them are just slow.  Once everyone is in, he gives his usual speech.  Summarized briefly:

You ARE stronger than you think you are.
If you have ANYTHING AT ALL you want to leave the place intact, LEAVE IT AT THE CUBBIES.  Rings!  Clothing!  Jewelry!  ANYTHING you want to come out in one place needs to be left in a cubby!
Tim can cut you off for any reason!  He will be reasonable about this!  You need to follow his directions, and if you do not, you will be asked to leave.  This is non-refundable!
If you play something, use the provided earbuds!  They're tiny and crap because they keep breaking!  This Is Known!  You can bring in your own if you are okay with replacing them twice!
Photography is ultimately forbidden!  If you take a photo, you will be asked to leave and fined incredible amounts of money!
The less you move, the better!  Just relax, read, play video games, listen to music!  Do not try and get clever!
Eat more than you normally would, it seems to help with regeneration.
Don't leave food lying around everywhere, this will result in a huge surcharge because Tim is setting the rules and Tim objects to that, personally!

Orientation: given.
Non-patients: Gone.
Power Distributed.......hrm.

Flop next to Sara.  "Are you okay using your power for durability?  Split up this wide, it should be more than sufficient to protect you against anything any of us could do."

Sara listens to the orientation just as seriously, in case there are things in there she should follow- and there are, not that she would have left food lying around or anything, and her phone is in a cubby. 

"Yes, that's fine. It will make guiding more efficient, anyway." 

She ticks it on... All the way, to start.

"So this is how strong I had it before. Are you okay with checking how high I should set it? I don't want to go overboard." 

Also: snuggle. Or at least leg snuggle. 

Divide it twelve eleven ways, and there.  "Pinch test again?"  Tim offers a thumb and forefinger.

"Yes, it worked well before."

Sara offers her fingertip. Her endurance is as high as it was yesterday, and when he attempts a pinch her backlash rate hikes up in time with the strength of his grip. 

This time, the best he can do is a little over the amount of strength needed to bruise a normal human.  She can feel his backlash, but it doesn't matter if he's actively doing something or not, the accumulation is pretty constant as long as his power is 'on'.  "That seems pretty good?"

"Mm, yes, one moment." 

She tones down her endurance until she can feel the pressure but it isn't actually hurting. Her backlash tones down accordingly, reducing to a rate that is several steps below his. 

She nods, "That should be enough." 

"Okay.  Match my backlash rate as much as you feel comfortable doing, I'm pretty aggressive about mine but I fail pretty gracefully."  Indeed, his backlash accumulation rate is pretty noticeable.  This may prompt subconscious squirming into a better position for snuggling guiding.  "You wanna try and beat the next chapter from last night?"

"Sure! Can you set it up from here? I will try to match you..." 

She increases her durability a bit more, and then experiments with her sensing, some, looking down beneath the silo to see what there is to see. 

Nothing very interesting. A little bit of copper? But it's a very low-quality seam, not worth digging for, really. Plenty of quartz... she categorizes a good chunk of the nearby rocks and minerals, before giving up on that as an option. It just takes up too much of her attention. 

But her endurance uses so much less power when it's passive... 

"Un moment..." She untangles herself from him and rolls off the pillow, trekking over to the weights and making to test them all. She needs one that she can comfortably hold up at this level, but heavy enough her endurance is active... 

"Errr.  What do you need?"  Tim gets nervous whenever someone's doing something weird in the Healing Silo, injured people occasionally do really weird stuff.  Obviously Sara isn't sick.  But.  The nervousness remains.

"I am going to hold this up," she hefts the weight she has decided on, "With my leg set, so my endurance is active and I match your backlash better." 

So determined, she returns to their pillow. 

"That makes sense.  Sometime, when we're not on the job, I should let you pick me up.  You'd like that, I bet."  In the meanwhile, would Sara care for some legs?  And a controller?

She takes the controller, giggling at the image, "I could, with my power, I think. I wonder what I could hold with you buffing me though?"

Next chapter time! What are their intrepid heroes/survivors dealing with now?

Advanced snuggling in a roomful of people, just the usual.

Oh, the video game heroes/survivors, right.  They've escaped the condemned town, and now have to pick their way through a ill-trod path!  Mutated animals, plant monsters, and the occasional skeleton attempt to bar their path!  More puzzles, one crossing, a "Towers of Hanoi" puzzle that must be completed with two people, and a stealth section where they need to take turns acting as a distraction for the other while an unkillable tree-monster prowls above them.

Ooh, co-op Towers of Hanoi! They are going to be so prepared for any puzzles and mutant monsters dungeons that come their way. 

The tree monster is very reminiscent of a dungeon boss she read about once. Too bad they can't kill it with fire like that one. Oh well! Sneaking along and to the next section, and then the next... 

Well, after the section after the next section after the next section, they might want lunch.  There are a few hand-edible snacks, but real food is pretty real.  Assuming that they can escape the leg-knot that Tim's fidgets have created.

Sara will hup to go fetch something for both of them, if he likes? And if he can give her his preferences. He must be pretty tired, at this point, even if they have been actively guiding this whole time. 

The thing Tim would like the most is Sara's hand, so he can get up.  Lying around all day is boring, and if he goes with her, then they can keep guiding?

That also works! She will in fact perform the arm holding maneuver again if he's coming along, with even more skin contact this time since his arm is pressed against the bare part of her side. 

Presumably there is food located somewhere in the room with them... 

Tim does indeed press his arm against her side!  He even goes so far as to press the back of his hand against her stomach, to maximize guiding.  Thankfully this gives him a chance to get closer to zero while everyone eats.  Does Sara want any of sammich fixins, coffee, soda, Esperade, lasagna, salad, muffins?  They also have takeout options, if she doesn't mind waiting a little bit.

She is going to have a ham and cheese sandwich, and the biggest chocolate chip muffin they have. If they don't have chocolate chip she will compromise and take blueberry, but she will be a little sad about it. She always forgets about chocolate chip muffins until they're right in front of her. 

Also a soda would be nice. Ginger ale? Failing that, a colourless pop of some kind, lemon lime or cream or something like that. 

They are probably going to need to perform some cooperative maneuvers to carry all of their food and drink.

Tim has been training the entire morning to perform cooperative maneuvers.  Tray with Sara's choices, plus Tim's yellow Esperade, a salad in a bowl he could use as a helmet, drizzled liberally in vinaigrette.  Two scoops of lasagna on the side of that.  Sara gets the right side of the tray, Tim gets the left?

Yes that works for her, and she will also add a plate of lasagna of her own given the added carrying capacity. 

Back to the pillow, now, carrying a tray full of delicious morsels. 

Careful two-handed set down of the tray, then Tim flops onto the enormous pillow.  She's been glued to your side for the past four hours, the least you could have done is given her a break from you doesn't matter now, done bun can't be undone.  Tim definitely doesn't glance hopefully up at Sara, but he does keep her in his peripherals.  While eating his enormous salad.

Sara flops down next to him once the tray is safe from being tipped over. She snuggles up to his side, curls their legs back together, and pulls the tray up into her lap to protect the pillow from any lasagna spillage. 

...the lasagna is very good. She makes happy mmm noises as she eats. 

You know, Tim really would have expected that he’d’ve been done with touch-shyness by now.  This is the same woman he fell asleep with last night, he literally walked her through how to choke him out with his own shirt and elbow.  He’s spent roughly a sixth of the last three months cuddling someone.

And yet when she curls up he freezes for a second.  Takes a breath.  Holds.  Lets it out.  Then relaxes.  And carries on devouring his greens.

After a few minutes.  “I see I convinced you to come to the dark side.”  Gesture at how little of her lasagna remains.

Mysterious Tim Things continue to be Mysterious. Though maybe that one was from the skin contact? She is reliably informed people sometimes get like that, but they've been snuggling for hours now...? Mysterious. 

Anyway, "It's good!"

She finishes the last bite and gives his lasagna a considering look. 

Tim has seen that look, albeit on another face.  He can take a hint.  Would Sara be interested in another forkful of lasagna?

Yyyyes but. She doesn't want to eat his food, he gets hungry when he's working, doesn't he? 

Her indecision is very visible on her face. 

Hm.  He’s used to more hunger, but Sara is pretty…passive.  Chill if he’s being more generous.  And she hasn’t come right out of a dungeon.  “Go on, I stole some of your pie yesterday.  Turnabout is fair play, right?”  Carefully bump the fork against her lips?

Silly. Sara opens her mouth to omf the lasagna off his fork.

She squeezes his arm in thanks as she chews. 

"It's really good. Where is it from?" And can she get the recipe? 

Given how Sara is forbidden from feeding herself by the laws of physics and Tim's right arm, he will feed her lefthanded.  A baseline human might be concerned about dumping food on Sara, but Tim is an esper and espers might as well be ambidextrous.  No food-related accidents occur.  "This one?  There's a local Italian place down the road.  Claudio's, I think?  Something like that.  You like it?"

"There's something to their sauce..."

She will om a few more bites before resisting by turning her face away, "Stop, stop!" She laughs, "Eat your lasagna, I still have a sandwich and a muffin!" 

Does she, though?  Tim takes petty revenge by distracting her with the fork and ... hm.  He had planned on stealing a bite of her muffin while distracing her, but the laws of physics seem to cut both ways.  Foiled by cruel reality.  "Fine, fine.  Just you wait till you try that muffin, though.  Might be worth the trip on its own."  Mmm, delicious lasagna.

Mmm, delicious muffin! He's right, she might have to sneak into whatever bakery these come from and steal their recipe book. 

"If you're trying to convince me to move here with delicious food..." She trails off between bites. The thought does not continue, though, because she is eating. 

"I'm not trying to convince you of anything, I'm just feeding you.  And reminding you that we eat like this every single day, although I mix it up because otherwise I'd get complaints from some of the long-term patients."  Maybe I should have gotten a muffin.  I was craving those greens, but that does look pretty good.

"Mhmmm," would he like a quarter of her muffin top? It's only fair. 

Tim would!  It's either that or they have to get up, which is effort.

Effort and trying not to spill anything off the tray. Granted, they probably wouldn't, but it's another reason not to try! Maybe they will make another trip for snacks, later, but for now they will have to content themselves with the muffin, lasagna, and sandwich they have left. Sharing and food stealing may commence. 

Tim is pretty full for now.  He's willing to settle back in and doze a little bit.  When lunch is over, he will disentangle slightly, project in a very loud voice that he's about to start the process again.  He offers Sara an apologetic look, it can't be pleasant hearing a baritone projecting for the back few rows from twenty inches away.  Especially with esper hearing in the equation.

It takes her a few moments to recover from the sudden loudness, and she does give him a somewhat reproachful look about it. 

"Warn me next time, please." 

"Oh.  Um.  Sorry.  My, er, usual partners are used to it by now."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it, but in the meantime ow my ears." She rubs over one, then snuggles up and presses her other ear against him, grumbling. 

"Wait, does that hurt?  Like, actually hurt?"

"A little bit, yes?" 

"Thaaaaaaaaat's why.  Usually I include my partner first, and the durability helps against loud noises.  Don't ask me to explain the physics behind it, I have no idea.  Er.  Sorry.  Again."  It doesn't really make sense to include her in his power but she can have a little trickle by way of apology, such a minor injury surely shouldn't take long ANYWAY, right?

It gets better pretty quickly, yeah. 

"Yes, my endurance doesn't really protect me from things like sound. It helps a little? But not much." 

Well.  Maybe Sara can be distracted with a boss battle?  He's pretty sure they're about to find an Anti-Tree MacGuffin.

It's pretty clear that Tim is slipping a little.  Sara can feel the backlash racking up pretty rapidly, and also his reflexes are faster, but not necessarily better.  He reacts quickly but he sometimes will execute the wrong command or waste ammunition on a jumpscare instead of a monster.

When they reach a lull in the action, Sara pauses the game and puts her controller down.

"Tim?" 

“Hmm?”

"Should I sit on you? Or, em, something? Your backlash is a lot."

“Mmmyeah.  Heavier load in the afternoon.  Since I keep guiding afterwards.”  If Sara ever wanted to check his backlash, this yawn is a good opportunity for it.

"Can I sit in your lap? You can nap, and I'll work on your hat." 

"Mmmyeah.  Can't nap, though."  Wait.  Wake the fuck up, Tim, what did she say.  "Er.  One sec."  Tim's backlash accumulation rate slows noticeably, he won't wake up instantly but at least he won't get worse at thinking.  After a moment, the backlash accumulation rate drops down to below the guiding rate. Am I okay with this?  It's more guiding than I get with most partners.  I do this with Charles, although I sit on his lap instead.  You just met her, point against, but she hasn't caused any problems, which is a point in favor.  She also is really sweet nice and said she'd respect your boundaries and also asked instead of just cozying up, which would have been easier if not actually better.

"Yeah, it's fine.  Put my hands where you want 'em.  I really can't nap, though, if I fall asleep poke me.  The power drops off if I fall all the way asleep, although I don't have to be...all the way awake, either."

"Oh, yes, that makes sense. Hm..." Her bag is in the cubbies... "I need to go get my bag. Can you walk with me?" 

"Er, yes.  One moment.  I'm about to be loud."  After pausing for Sara's preparations, he begins projecting for the little old ladies in the back few rows.  "We're going to take a three minute break, everyone!  If you have delicate manipulations you want to do, now's the time!"  Then, at a much more esper-friendly volume: "Alright.  Shall we?"