So an entire saddlebag filled with bags of marshmallows for Merlin to take along: good idea? Bad idea? Since it was here over Francine's shoulder, the question was purely academic, but wondering about it made for a distraction from trying not to sniffle.
"Like it was a choice between you or lying in bed watching tv and eating Pringles?" Francine didn't do sarcasm well. Other people would have just declared that it was.
"You actually are a dork, you know," Francine informed him. As all the warning he was going to get before she attacked with a hug, because hell if she was going to let the adult version get away without one of those. Or twelve.
Did he hear Francine saying a word? Aside from, "I'm going to miss you guys like somebody cut off my arms, so if you don't stay safe, fear my wrath." Her...armless wrath.
She did. She was very very good at being clingy. "You don't take my wrath seriously, but that's okay. Makes it more effective when I use it." Eventually, she took pity on him and de-clung, at least for the moment. She needed a free hand to wipe her eyes with, anyway. "Here, have presents."
Which were, among other things, a tightly-wrapped bag of take-out cheeseburgers from Luke's, and several pairs of inexpensive-but-sturdy Ray-Ban knockoffs in protective cases. "One of those is for Merlin if he needs to hide his eyes at some point; the rest are so you can all come back with 'em and say it's the newest fashion in wherever the heck you were actually supposed to have been."
Arthur took one of the protective cases and studied it. It took him... a few seconds to realise how they opened, and he raised an eyebrow at the glasses themselves. "Well," he said, "That'll be useful, if my father believes it's science." Beat. "Thank you."
Just tell it it came from the same place the tomatoes come from.
"It is science. At least as much as spaghetti is chemistry." If she were cruel, she would have packed a can of Beef-a-Roni for him to puzzle over and eventually figure out that it was pre-cut spaghetti, but she wasn't.
For some, maybe. It just gave Francine an excuse to avoid crushing his ribs if she started it. "I don't want you to go," she admitted, because she could admit it to him. "But I know you have to. It's home."
Not a very good distraction.
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But shut up about it.
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Somewhat awkwardly, but hush. He didn't really do this.
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Which were, among other things, a tightly-wrapped bag of take-out cheeseburgers from Luke's, and several pairs of inexpensive-but-sturdy Ray-Ban knockoffs in protective cases. "One of those is for Merlin if he needs to hide his eyes at some point; the rest are so you can all come back with 'em and say it's the newest fashion in wherever the heck you were actually supposed to have been."
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"It is science. At least as much as spaghetti is chemistry." If she were cruel, she would have packed a can of Beef-a-Roni for him to puzzle over and eventually figure out that it was pre-cut spaghetti, but she wasn't.
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