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"All right," says Less Little Miles. "Here goes. Linyabel, take a new baseline, just 'cause?"

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Okay, so are they trying the pretending not to be married thing...? She does her best to look professional about it when she takes her reading. "Done," she says.
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"Thank you."

And dose number one of magic blood.

"And now we wait, I guess. Sorry it isn't very exciting-looking magic."

"You better not be fibbing about the magic," says a scowling Little Miles.

"I don't know for sure about it, but as far as I know, there's no good reason it shouldn't work," says Less Little Miles. "My word as Vorkosigan."

This actually succeeds in shutting Little Miles up.
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"I've tried it a couple of times myself before," says Isabella. "For injuries, but it's really amazing stuff."

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Linya monitors Miles's condition. Her scanner beeps occasionally.

"Can you make it stop beeping?" asks Nika.

"Sure." She makes it stop beeping.
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"Anyway, now that we're on the boring part," says Less Little Miles, "how about a game of Strat-O, Miles-Five?"

"You better not let me win," warns Little Miles.

"I wouldn't dream of it," says Less Little Miles.

"All right," says Little Miles.

Less Little Miles procures the game from Bar, and - knowing that Bothari won't want to put the kid down for a second - sits at a table, where Bothari will have room to sit down across from him with Little Miles in his lap.
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Less Little Miles is so very right about that. Down he sits.

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Ivans play whirligig, chatting quietly and very occasionally about inconsequentials. (Tiny Ivan is slightly scandalized to learn that Big Ivan has kissed girls.)

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And Nika's grownups (in between Linya's checks of her husband's medical progress) talk to Nika about various things and indulge her with another hot chocolate when she seems too likely to start asking personal questions of Linya that would lead to incriminating results.

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And the Mileses play an increasingly heated game of Strat-O. And then another one after, when Less Little Miles wins the first.

Despite several close calls, the grownup Miles manages not to expand his younger alt's vocabulary in any unfortunate directions. But they definitely yell a lot of age-appropriate things at one another.
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Ivans find this very entertaining.

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And eventually:

"This medical scanner is now twelve percent more optimistic about your natural bones' ability to handle shear and impact stress, which is well outside normal error range."
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...Less Little Miles grins.

"That means it's working, right?" says Little Miles, leaning forward eagerly.

"It sure seems to!"

"Awesome," says Little Miles. "Can we do mine now?"

"I don't think it's done working on me yet... might as well wait and see how good it's going to get," says Less Little Miles.

"Sure," says Little Miles. They go straight back to yelling at each other about Strat-O, but more happily.
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Awww.

Nika has whipped cream on her nose again. Her alts don't mention it. Nika eventually figures it out for herself and wipes it off.

Linya periodically reports on percentages, as much to keep Nika occupied talking about Isabella's world instead of wondering where Linya is from as to inform people of anything. "Fifteen percent. Eighteen. We're looking for a one hundred forty percent increase above its baseline reading before you're within normal ranges, although it's already substantially improved. This is a lot of metabolism to be doing without eating anything, aren't you hungry?"
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"Huh? Oh," says Less Little Miles, blinking. "Starving, actually, now that you mention it. I didn't notice."

"Because you were too busy getting your butt kicked," says Little Miles smugly.

"You wish, kid."

And back to their game. Perhaps someone should get Less Little Miles some food.
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Rather than risk looking excessively married by fetching her husband food, Linya gives Big Ivan a significant look.

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"Uh. Bar. Recommend me something for my miraculously healing cousin," says Big Ivan, interrupting his game with his small alt.

He brings Less Little Miles the resulting steak and potatoes and bowl of raspberry custard.
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"Thanks, Ivan," says grownup Miles absently. Once the food is actually in front of him, he doesn't have any trouble eating it.

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Linya gets a little something to eat too. "Anybody else hungry?"

"Nah," says Nika.

"Probably all the hot chocolate."

"Yeah," beams Nika.
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"I had my priv, I'm fine."

"What's priv?" asks Nika.

"It's a kind of grain that grows on a planet where I spent a few years as a political refugee. I didn't like it at first, but when I left I missed it."
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"Come to think of it I'm hungry. What about you?" Big Ivan says to Tiny Ivan.

Tiny Ivan is also hungry.

Ivans get matching meals of mismatched portion sizes.
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The Mileses play Strat-O.

When Little Miles actually manages to win a game, he gets very excited and waves his arms in celebration. Grownup Miles sits back in his chair and glowers.

"How about we play something else now?"

"You just don't wanna lose again," says Little Miles, accurately. "Loser."

"Oh yeah?" says Grownup Miles, narrowing his eyes. "Fine. Let's play Strat-O again."
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"Little Miles, food?"
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"Yeah, sure," says Little Miles. Most of his attention is on the game.

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Little Miles gets Bar-recommended food appropriate for someone who may presently be making substantial skeletal alterations.

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