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Ivan has just recently been assigned to Earth. It's very cultural. He has already explained Vor to groups of natives four separate times. Some of them seem to find it really hilarious to call him Lord Vorpatril. He doesn't mind; some of those people are girls who giggle it and bat their eyelashes. He likes it here just fine.
After he finishes with his day-job duties (separate from attending diplomatic functions to stand around and look handsome) he attempts to let himself out of the room with the comconsole and all its data to sift through, only to find that the hallway has turned into a bar.
He looks over his shoulder. The office is still normal. Which is to say there are no other exits.
Ivan goes into the bar, squinting.
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middlingalong
middlingalong
"Anyway, you can move here if you want for now, but the powers that be will feel quite free to squeeze you in with me again on no notice if they need a room for something."
middlingalong
"In that case I'm supposed to neaten up the place so it doesn't look so lived-in if they do put someone else here. Want to bet Miles forgot a sock?"
unmarred
"He deliberately abandoned most of his local civilian clothes. No bet."
unmarred
Mark carries off Miles's abandoned clothes. They'll all fit him, after all.
middlingalong
How sensible!
It doesn't take Ivan very long to make the room look like Miles was never there to eyes that do not belong to Mark. Then he goes and does his actual job for the day, or rather the rest of it, and then he brings Mark a late dinner and eats one himself, and then he goes back to the infirmary for a check on the state of his hands, and then it is early bedtime.
It doesn't take Ivan very long to make the room look like Miles was never there to eyes that do not belong to Mark. Then he goes and does his actual job for the day, or rather the rest of it, and then he brings Mark a late dinner and eats one himself, and then he goes back to the infirmary for a check on the state of his hands, and then it is early bedtime.
unmarred
Mark lumps lumpishly in his bed in Ivan's room for much of this time, and then lumpish lumping turns into lumpish sleeping. But he does eat dinner.
unmarred
He shrugs.
"I'll be all right, probably. Miles did make me promise not to kill myself."
"I'll be all right, probably. Miles did make me promise not to kill myself."
unmarred
"It was foremost on his mind. But the same promise goes just as well for, oh, not disappearing in the middle of the night and roaming the wormhole nexus picking pockets and crying for a year."
unmarred
"Would've suited my mood at the time. I'm feeling a little better now, though."
middlingalong
"I expect the promise Miles extracted will probably keep you from actually killing yourself, but... don't want to? If you can?"
middlingalong
"I am always here to make awkward requests about your emotional state."
