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in which karen teller saves expat fairy celegorm from zombies
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"I could accept the check and throw it in a river or something."

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"Would that even help? If it's a check?"

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"I dunno. I guess I could ask him. This would require talking to him."

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"Don't be an ass, Karen, it doesn't suit you."

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Sigh.

 

"You know what really bites? It would help. Him or the money, if we could figure out how to access the money in a sensible way. It's more than our house. Way more. And he could do a bunch of stuff. Like, there's the income, so we don't get wiped out the next time we need to call a repair man, and there's the - having anyone else around to do stuff, and play with Zana, and the thing about the scratching post, and what it says about him that he immediately thought of making a scratching post, and -

" - and here I am throwing a tantrum after midnight in the backyard because I don't wanna - I don't even know, because it - feels wrong to cede to the fairies that if you save somebody's life then they have to - do stuff. Any stuff. And - I don't know what he thinks we are, but it's creepy, and it's not like being friends, and I'm mad about it, 'cause I don't have any other friends, you know, and I wanted to maybe be friends with him, and it sucks if you're not even friends with people who live in your house, but I dunno how to fix it now, because everything's - "

She gestures helplessly.

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"Well, I'm sure you've thought of this, but you could probably try talking to him about any of this. Just a shot in the dark there."

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"I guess. It's gonna be weird and awkward."

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"These are the dangers we brave, kid. Now, you gonna go inside and get half a good night's sleep, or are you gonna sit out here moping all night?"

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"Kinda leaning towards the second one."

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"You are so melodramatic."

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"Having him in the house is weird."

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"Well don't make yourself homeless over it. Talk stuff over with him and give it three nights and if you're still miserable about it we can revisit the topic and see what makes you both happy. But 'I guess I'm just gonna live in the backyard now' is not a plan A."

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"Fine."

She veeeery quietly opens the door and heads inside.

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She successfully makes it to her room and locks the door and makes it to bed without waking the baby.

At dawn she makes waffles, not because she wants to indebt him any more but because making sure that breakfast exists is, like, sort of a stress response.

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When he wakes up he'll eat waffles. "You can wake me, you know."

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"Why would I do that? Unless you wanna get up at some specific time."

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"So I can make you waffles?"

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"I like making waffles. It's calming. You can make lunches and dinners and non-waffle breakfasts if I don't feel like waffles or cereal. Also I don't want you to end up getting not enough sleep."

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She's the one who didn't come home by the time he went to bed last night. 

"...okay."

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"M'sorry about getting upset last night."

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"I don't really get why you don't like me any more but I just figure hey, maybe you'll change your mind, or maybe you'll get mad enough to hit me, and those're both good news, so, none of my business really."

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" - I'm not gonna hit you."

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"I don't mean, like, with a car, I mean, like," he punches himself on the arm. 

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"I'm not gonna do that!"

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