Bella sees him off.
And heads for the lair, humming, all nerves.
Alice has already escaped the house (by waving to Hilary on his way out the kitchen door) and is napping in his big cuddly armchair.
Bella sits on the arm of the chair and pokes him in the forehead.
Bella kisses him and turns on her read. "Morning. How're you?"
"I am awesome," he says, wrapping an arm around her waist in a snuggly fashion and idly wndering if she would like to be in his lap.
"You might flail around and dump me on the floor, so I'd sooner not get comfy," Bella remarks.
The reminder of what exactly they are meeting for does give him a pleasant shivery feeling, though.
"You sure? Because I went ahead and did-not-install a ceiling," she says with a small smile. "Who knows what will happen."
"It works in fake units I made up, where one fake unit is the minimum amount of pain required to make a triangle," Bella says chattily. "We can figure out how many it takes to make a square, pentagon, hex, star, etcetera. Heck, for all we know there are more kinds of coins up beyond that which no one has ever made because no one had a pet masochist quite like you. Octagons or cubes or something."
This time, the pleasant shivery feeling comes with an actual pleasant shiver. "Ooh, fun."
"Are you going to be able to tell me to stop," Bella asks, "if that's what you want to do - or even *think* it coherently - or should we have some kind of programmed plan of what's going to happen over what time period in case you can't?"
"Well, I mean—you can see if I like things or not, right? So if my lightning bolt looks happy, keep going, and if it doesn't, don't."
"And what about mixed feelings? Because those happen too."
"Ask, and if you can't get a good answer out of me, stop," is his conclusion.
She goes with "plain", to start with.
Alice grins. "Aww, tickles," he says; it doesn't, technically, but it's a delicate enough sensation that it almost feels like it should.
Bella cranks it up to ten, which is just barely on the threshold of square-making. "Thirty-one flavors. Well, more than that, but Baskin Robbins has more than thirty-one too, they just rotate." And she spins through them all, one second at a time.
She hops up in increments of five at a time. A hundred is where pentagons can be made.
By that time he has stopped biting his lip, and stopped hugging Bella, and is lounging in the chair with his eyes closed, not moving much and enjoying himself thoroughly.
She starts going up in increments of ten... then twenty.
"Toldja," he murmurs. "Mmmm."
Bella watches coins appear. "If the pattern holds, a thousand triangles makes a hex," she observes softly.
She starts going up fifty at a time.
And hits a thousand, in due course.
Alice isn't looking, though, so he couldn't tell you. Alice is a little busy making more interesting faces.