"That'll be all for now."

    "All right, one minute." The clerk returns to the back room, and she pulls him close. You okay?

yeah. just...fuck. it’s a lot.

Having enough to be careless, he means, is a lot to get used to.

Yeah. She gives him a squeeze. Not many people get to live like Sith.

they should.

Never mind how this feels for him — this could buy someone else food for a week. And if everything were right in the world everyone could do this, nobody would need to weigh their pleasure against their survival, but since everything’s not right...

(He doesn’t want to give it all away. He’s selfish enough that he doesn’t want to worry about money anymore. And he doesn’t want to do it here, on this planet. But they need to help someone.) 

Okay. I'll be putting together a budget for us soon; we can set aside some money for it. (And here she's imagining they'll personally fund a small to medium charity, with the expectation that that'll be easy, not eat into their ability to just not worry about the money at all.)

Holy shit.

Holy shit!

How is everything like this now.

They're going to eat fancy cakes and start a charity and–for a second it's like the last months never happened, the background hum of anxiety that he didn't even realize was there falls away, everything is just gorgeous and new.

He's very cute. She's delighted.

You'll have to figure out what you want the charity to do, you know.

i'll figure something out!

He really doesn't think that far ahead.

He's very cute. And if he doesn't come up with something, they can always find an existing charity to donate to.

The clerk comes back with a box that's on the large size of what someone could comfortably hold in one hand, wrapped with thin, bright blue ribbon. The price he names is just a couple credits less than Pradnakt's guess; she pays seamlessly, and Daisy steps forward to take it once it's bagged.

i hope they have one of those...cards. like in chocolate boxes. that tells you what they are.

I bet it will. This is probably for, like, if you want to get a wedding cake or something from them, letting you figure out what you want.

i am gonna want to eat all of these and you are gonna have to stop me.

If you eat half and I eat half, you still get to taste all of them, and you won't get sick, she points out, amused.

oh, yeah.

it's great having two mouths.

Mmhmm.

They're back out on the street by now, wandering; a pet store with a litter of fluffy creatures in the window catches Pradnakt's eye.

He is immediately glued to the window.

We can't bring anything home with us that can't go in the spaceship. But she stands there with him, watching as the yellow-and-grey pups tussle with each other, learning their personalities and deciding which one she likes best - she's sympathetic to the weakest, and drawn to him more than a little, but her favorite is his sister, who's on the defensive nearly as much, but quite a bit smarter about handling it.

Z has the same two favorites, but he's drawn to the smallest, weakest pup more than anything. The urge to go inside and just lift him out of the window is surprisingly intense.

can they not go to space...?

He knows they shouldn't. But look at them.

I have no idea. We could ask.

"We should at least go in and pet them," he says, very seriously.

(They forgot to talk again. It's easy not to remember that Daisy's here, quiet as she is, or that she can't listen in on that.)

"Excellent idea." In they go. The sign declares the creatures to be komopee kits, priced at half the rent for a cheap room for a month each, with a discount for two.

Pradnakt reaches into the pen, letting them sniff at her and get comfortable. The largest nibbles her fingers experimentally with needle-sharp baby teeth.

Expensive. Expensive and adorable.

He lowers his hand into the enclosure as well.

be nice, guys, i've only got the one...