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"Oh. Okay."

It's somewhat unexpected to find that this is a normal contradiction. But anyway. Hugs.
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A few days go by, and then Ivan says, "The fast-penta interviews are all finished up and our guys are talking to some Earth guys, but it's looking like the Earth guys are sufficiently convinced that we shot criminals in the defense of another - bonus points for 'family member' - and so we're safe and your erstwhile captors get whisked away to some Earth prison."
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"Where no doubt Galen eventually escapes and comes after me. That man holds grudges like cherished heirlooms."

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"Well, they had the discourtesy not to do this within the Imperium, so we can't string them up, but I'm pretty sure I can nip him in the head with a nerve disruptor if he goes after you here, here having the legal fiction of being Barrayar."

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"Well, that's reassuring."

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"D'you want me to write Aunt Cordelia and Uncle Aral about you, see if you can just go be completely surrounded by Barrayaran soil all the time and have a bit more space to move around in than you will if you try to stick to embassy grounds? Message'll take a few weeks, but." Shrug. "I'm pretty sure they'll take you."

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"That's... something to think about. I'm not sure I'm up to dealing with Cordelia and Aral just yet. And I haven't gotten tired of the inside of this embassy so far. The entertainment opportunities are adequate."

He has been reading a lot of books.
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"Hey, if you want to read all the time, can't scare me. But if you might want the results of that message any time in the next few weeks I should send it out now."

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"Mm." He shakes his head. "No thank you. Not yet. I'll keep the option in mind, though."

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"Sure, just say when."

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Mark essays a hesitant smile.

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Ivan smiles back and then heads off to occupy himself in the embassy gym.



While Mark is busy reading, being a vaguely depressed lump, and shutting himself up in the lav for extended panic attacks, Ivan mostly goes about his normal life, now with added roommate. Added occasionally huggable roommate - Mark doesn't ask, but he generally seems so pleased about it, and it's a lot easier than hauling a bucket of water to dump on his head, which is the only thing that sometimes helps when Miles is being a lump.

Ivan picks up and starts dating an Earth girl who works for the postal service and arranges to go back to her place rather than try to bring her into the embassy when "my place or yours" comes up as a question. He's quite taken with her, but she's busy enough that Ivan still has time to loiter around with Mark.

Galeni makes no attempt to cause Mark to interact with him. It is in general quite simple for Mark to avoid anyone who isn't Ivan.
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And after several months of this:

the Dendarii Mercenaries show up in Earth orbit, dragging in from God knows where, and Miles requests a discreet way into the embassy so he can meet with the local military attaché without blowing his Naismith cover.
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And when he has found one, Galeni, seeking confirmation about the whole Dendarii business - and not knowing quite how to tell a Vorling that they now have a surplus Vorling in the family via cloning - summons Lieutenant Vorpatril.

"Oh, hi, Miles! You will never guess what I got you for Winterfair."
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"Oh God," Miles mutters to himself.

"What, Ivan."
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"Guess. It'll be hilarious."

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He throws up his hands. "A pony. A model jumpship. The baby brother I've always wanted. I am not in the mood, Ivan."

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"Well, that'll teach me to underestimate your guessing abilities, anyway."

Galeni snorts.
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Miles takes a deep breath. The presence of a superior officer is not sufficiently quelling, especially when the superior officer seems to be in on the joke.

"Ivan. Explain what the fuck you are talking about. Right. Now."
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Ivan sighs.

"When you were six somebody cloned you intending on a substitution plot, I have rescued the clone from his fate, he is in my room, his name is Mark."
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"That's... that's just great," Miles mutters, rubbing his face with both hands. "God. Is he - how did you find this out, anyway - is he okay? How long has he been here?"

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"Little of this, little of that - he's, uh. His mood responds well to hugs."

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"'Little of'—whatever. I can't deal with this right now." He turns back to Galeni. "Captain, I am sincerely sorry to have dropped in on you like this. I can be out of your hair as soon as I deliver my Dendarii their payment."

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"All due assistance," Galeni murmurs. "And how much is that?"

(Ivan smiles at Elli. She gives him a cold smirk back; he takes that as a rebuff.)
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"Eighteen million marks, sir."

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