Walk Ins

As they emerge into the sunlight, Simon scarcely watches where they're going; he's paging through the readout of test results, and frowning.

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Anthy's looking around at the stalls and the shops, eyes shining.

She tugs on River's sleeve, excitedly, and points to a display of elaborately-embroidered silk saris, mostly red and gold and green.

It's a wide shot, so we can't hear what she says, but it's not important, and the camera's swooping closer. A donkey ambles across the screen, with bags of philibotonic polarizers slung over its back. Closer, now -- Simon's still frowning down at his test results, and a spiky-haired youth to their left is nodding approval at Anthy's purple hair.

Cut to River.

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River is ignoring the test results, and ignoring the hospital, with great concentration. There's a tiny tight frown on her face, but no more agitation than that.

She's glad to have her attention caught, from the way she quickly follows Anthy's gaze to the indicated saris when her sleeve is tugged. The frown smooths away, into a wide-eyed and eager expression that says, quite eloquently, Oooooh. Happily, she starts towards them.

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Simon follows them, still looking down at the readout. As he draws level with River, he reluctantly puts away the test results -- he's going to have to study them later, when there's more time.

And fewer distractions.

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There's a red sari about Anthy's size, embroidered in gold, with a matching gold blouse and ruffled red petticoat. She runs a wistful hand over the drape, pulls it back when the stall's owner scowls, and turns to the next stall.

Jewelry.

Anthy's eyes are so very shiny.

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River does not quite touch a pair of earrings carved of white jade, a delicate filigree of floral shapes, but she strokes the air over them, ignoring the merchant's wary eye.

"Simon! Simon." She points happily to a tiny pendant, an elephant's head made of gold. "It's Christmas."

...Technically it's August. But this is River.

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Simon's smiling. They're both so happy.

Also, he's wondering if Kaylee would like those earrings.

...Okay, and now he's panicking because he can't remember if Kaylee's ears are pierced or not.

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"Oh, it's so cute!" Anthy abandons the silver rose earrings she's admiring. They tinkle forlornly in a dusty breeze.

She peers over River's shoulder, face alight. "Look, he's smiling."

There are people trying things on at the stall next to them -- and further away from the hospital -- and Anthy lifts a filmy pink scarf, eyeing River.

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"It's because he has layers," River says solemnly. "Gold's just on top. He's a mystery."

The second sentence includes a Don't even bother denying it glance to the merchant.

The third is followed by a earnestly pleading look at Simon. Of the Pleeeaaase? I'm your favorite younger sister! sort. River got a lot of practice at that kind of look, growing up.

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"...oh, River, I don't know ..."

He glances at the merchant, dubiously.

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Anthy is busy draping the scarf over River's head and pondering the effect.

The merchant scowls back at Simon.

Then the scowl turns to a charming smile. In Mandarin, he says, "Oh, are you admiring that pendant? Only 8 bits! It was handcrafted by skilled artisans, and it will never break."

He swivels to snap, "Geldi!" at the laughing boys jostling each other on the far side of the stall. In Mandarin, again: "That's breakable! And I know your mothers!"

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Simon eyes the merchant. 8 bits is low for a gold pendant, but rather high for one that's only gold-plated....

Stiffly: "It, ah ... that seems a trifle high. Sir."

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The merchant looks distinctly put out. "Nongoa zara? This is a fine piece of work! Surely 8 bits isn't too much for a fine young man like yourself."

One of the boys peeks around at Simon.

"Komunak," the merchant mutters. He is in a grumpy mood, and snot-nosed rich kids don't help it. "Well, let me see . . . I can offer you this pendant for 9 bits instead."

It's an ugly pendant.

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River's bearing has changed, suddenly. She's looking at the merchant with a sharp eye and a shrewd focus.

"Cái búshì," she says scornfully. "The gold's just on top. Tin underneath -- are you trying to cheat us? Aizu. Two bits, and that's overpaying."

Look at that, her accent's shifted to match his, too. And I bet you didn't know she spoke any Basque.

Possibly she didn't, a minute ago.

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Flummoxed: "Badakizu euskaraz?"

His whole bearing's changed. "Pozten nau zu ezagutzeak!" To Simon, he adds, in Mandarin, "High quality, I assure you -- she's right that it's good plated, but look at the detail!"

Anthy adjusts the scarf a little. Peacefully: "Egun on."

"Egun on, bai," he says automatically, and looks from River to Anthy in bewilderment. "Nongoa zara? Arrosa?"

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He's seen her do this before. At least twice.

It still boggles him.

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"We travel," says River peacefully. Her accent's still a perfect match for his, the vowels shifted and the rhythm gone lilting. "Been a lot of places."

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Anthy discards the filmy pink scarf, and begins to examine a white silk dupatta.

The merchant wipes a tear from his eye. In Basque, ignoring Simon: "Out here, sometimes, it's very lonely. One gets to missing home, where people speak proper languages, not this stupid English with its stupid orthography --"

Relaxing: "So you still want the elephant pendant, do you?"

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"Don't have to write it," River says kindly. "It'll be okay. Bizi gara."

Beat.

"If the price is right. It's a pretty thing, but not for what you'd charge a yúbèn de tourist." The faint scorn is back, but that's all part of the game. His game; her posture and her tone are not River's at all, but that of a young Arrosan woman haggling in the marketplace.

He responds, playing the game right back -- maybe not so diligently as he might otherwise. Nostalgia is clearly running full force through his brain, weakening even the hard shrewdness of a seasoned stall-keeper.

In the end, it comes to seven bits for the pendant and the white jade earrings together.

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Seven bits which Simon fishes out of his pocket and hands over, giving the merchant a weak smile.

"All right, we should keep moving," he says in an undertone to River and Anthy. "We don't have much more than half an hour."

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The boy looking around the side of the stall sidles back around, out of sight.

Anthy puts the dupatta back, not very reluctantly -- the border clashes with River's skirt -- and follows, looking wistfully around at the colorful shops full of, well, tourist crap.

Shiny tourist crap.

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"Adio. Pozten nau zu ezagutzeak," she says a little formally to the shopkeeper, following Simon as he turns away.

The merchant replies in kind, beaming.

And then River turns to her brother, wide-eyed and happy, and is River again, her manner a little disconnected as ever and her face shining.

"Time stretches," she reassures him. "It's all subjective."

The elephant necklace she presses into Anthy's hand.

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Anthy looks at her, astonished, and then at the necklace.

". . . Oh."

She tilts her hand, so light flashes across the puddle of gold in her hand, and smiles. It's a small smile. It's also genuine.

"Thank you."

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Simon's about to say something when a pack of laughing urchins goes darting past like a school of fish, cutting in between passersby wherever there's room. Or wherever there isn't, as one demonstrates by jostling in between Simon and an older woman carrying an armful of small packages. She stumbles and drops about half of them, squawking in dismay.

"Duibuqi!" the guilty boy calls back over his shoulder, before disappearing in a flutter of ragged shirt.

The woman hollers a string of abuse after the retreating urchin, and mutters a few more choice epithets while picking up her scattered purchases. Simon bends to pick up two that landed near his feet, and passes them to her.

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