Yeah. "It's sweet that you care about her like that."

He's quiet for a moment. "I- she's nice," he's fairly sure that's not going to get Daisy in trouble.

"You're afraid of something."

He's afraid of a lot of things. "I- don't want to. Get her in trouble." (And if he's worrying about memories of the last droid that was nice to him, he's trying very hard not to think about it.)

"Then she won't be. This is between you and her; I'm just helping out."

He blinks. (It can't be that easy.) "Th-Thank you?" he says, but he does sound a little unsure, a little questioning.

"There's nothing to thank me for," she points out. "I meant what I said about not getting to make decisions about you, and the same goes for her." She skewers the last tomato on the kebab in her hands and floats it over. "Here," she says, and as she does, the anti-fire effect fades out.

He ducks his head slightly, thinking about that. He looks up and cautiously takes the kebab. His flames ignite the minute anti-fire effect is gone, and though he does flinch, it seems a little more like habit than anything else. After a second, he directs his flames up around the kebab, trying a little to imitate the way the fire is around the kebab resting over it. (Not that he's likely to know when the one he's holding is cooked.)

She takes the first kebab back and eats, quietly, keeping an eye on his. "That looks done," she says, after a few minutes.

He manages to steer the flames away from the vegetables, and starts eating. Apparently whatever's causing the flames is giving him some level of heat resistance, because he immediately bites into the vegetables without pausing to let them cool. (He makes a small, appreciative sound without seeming to realise.)

Good.

She pauses halfway through her kebab to prepare another pair of them, leaving them waiting on the tray for Nova to be ready for them.

"Do you want - wait, no." she says, when he starts to slow his eating. "We can keep working on the house if you do want to, Nova, but I'd rather wait until Daisy's back; I have some things to work on inside, and you can do whatever you like; listen to some more stories, maybe."

He blinks. "I- what- whatever you think best?" he agrees, fiddling with a piece of tomato with his fingers. "Just...don't want to be in the way." (Which seems to apply to the immediate with Pradnakt having things to do, and in terms of Nova currently being camped out in her workroom.)

"You won't be, it's fine. I'll bring the cot in, too, that seems more comfortable for you than sitting at the table."

"I- I'll be- You don't-" he stops, closes his eyes and breathes again. (Just keep breathing.) Reminds himself that they keep asking him about what he wants. And he can't deny that (as pleasant as the hug earlier was) the cot would be more comfortable than sitting at the table. "Please? Thank you?"

"You're welcome, and - I'd like you to stop trying to tell me not to do things for you, all right? I'm not doing it because I think I have to, I'm doing it because I want to."

He's still, breathing, and then he nods. "'Ll try," he promises. "I- might. Forget. Sometimes."

"That's all right," she nods, and then takes a bite of the last piece of squash on her skewer.

"It helps me, with that kind of thing, to have - something to do instead, if it's hard to avoid doing and not just hard to remember, and something to do if I fail, that gives me time to think about what happened and how I could have done better. That might be a bit much, for this, but I can help you figure out things you could do like that, if there's something you'd like to try it with."

"I-" he would like that, but- He can't think of anything right now, even if he knows there are bound to be things. He settles for a nod as he finishes eating.

"No rush," she nods.

Her project for the afternoon, once she has him settled in and the dishes washed, is taking a series of small, broken motors apart and using the parts to build new working ones; she ends up with tools and parts spread over half the table, humming and occasionally muttering quietly to herself as she works.

He curls up on the cot, knees to his chest, and back against the wall, and watches her work. He doesn't go for the datapad, but tries to remind himself that this is what Pradnakt wants him to do. His fingers slowly work through signs (which appear to be reassurances to himself that this is okay).

An hour or so before sunset, she puts down her work and heads outside; she comes back with a large potato, which she washes and sets to baking, and some herbs, which she washes and chops and mixes into a portion of sour cream, returning it to the fridge before she gets back to work.

He opens his mouth a couple of times to offer to help, and then stops. Because he doesn't know entirely what she's doing, and he thinks he'd probably hinder more than help. So he stays curled up on the bed, and continues to focus on signing. (And if he accidentally drifts so he's remembering Daisy teaching him, he's not entirely aware of it.)

She leaves him be until the potato is done - she dresses it with the herbed sour cream and some cheese, adds the jerky left from lunch to the plate, and sets it on the table with a glass of milk. "Dinner, Nova," she announces, and heads back to her work.

He looks towards her, then to the plate, obviously startled.

"I-" he doesn't need as much food as they're feeding him. But he also doesn't want to argue. (And...and the food is nice.)

He slides off the cot and over to the table, staying small. (More habit than anything else.) He looks at Pradnakt out the corner of her eyes.

"I- what- 'bout you?"

"I'm not hungry. I'll get a snack later, maybe."