Tamsin's morning ritual was more or less set in stone: she rolled out of bed, she stumbled downstairs, she put some food in her mouth, then she headed back upstairs to find less comfortable but more flattering clothes. This ritual proceeded more or less apace, as she squinted in the mirror once, yanked on a t-shirt, and then headed downstairs
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Another deeply unimpressed child wandered into the house in search of someone who might have been her mother. "Hi, mom."
Hi, other child that Ylva was judging for existing.
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Someone got daddy's too-smart-to-not-get-in-trouble.
"And I'd win anyway."
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She had to get this out before asking, "Who's your - ugh - daddy?"
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"I don't like time travel," she decided firmly, stomping off to get herself some breakfast. Stomping might have been her general mode of walking, rather than being in a mood, though.
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Or so Kenzi had told her. Repeatedly.
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Yeah, she probably needed to spend less time with Valeria Richards.
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