The Art Of War

[curiously_cora]

Since Coraline had found herself locked in that room again, she hadn't been able to sleep properly. She'd sleep but her dreams were filled with red claws and hungry button eyes and something waiting for her at the bottom of a deep well. When faced with that prospect every night you could see why a ten year old explorer would rather sit up than turn

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[beentodamascus]

Adam wasn't often letting Coraline out of his sight. He'd left the rec-room briefly, to make coffee, and stood in the doorway, sipping from the steaming mug as he listened to her talk to herself. He'd showered, and his shirt was still sticking across damp shoulders, his hair standing up in wet spikes.

"I read that when I was at Cambridge," he said. "I brought you some juice."

[beentodamascus]

"I wear a jacket too," he said, with a little smile. "I wear a suit when I'm on the grid, usually. Or jeans and a jacket, at least."

[curiously_cora]

"Do you at least have a briefcase with a secret compartment and sleep gas and maybe a sharp stabby thing?" Coraline asked, taking out her notebook to write down under her Spy notes the word Grid. Coraline didn't like the idea of wearing a suit, it sounded too much like school uniform and hers was boring.

[beentodamascus]

"Sometimes I have to carry a gun," said Adam. "But briefcases aren't usually convenient."

[curiously_cora]

"Are you sure you're a real spy?" Coraline said, looking at Adam with a smile on her face.

[beentodamascus]

"Yes, I'm sure I'm really a spy," said Adam, rolling his eyes. "Read your book, horrible child."

[curiously_cora]

"Okay," Coraline said, pulling a tongue at Adam and settling beside him. Coraline grinned and turned the page of her book.