fandomtownies | Sanctity: Eveningish.

After opening the shop, Zhaan sat herself down on the stool behind her counter and began carving a gemstone carefully.

It was something to do, and gave her mind free rein to think.

While seeing Aeryn and Crichton having fun in the snow had made her slightly melancholy, Zhaan had been glad that they were this young and carefree. A part of her wished there were a way to give Chiana and Stark an equally Peacekeeper-less existence. But it would never be fair to them, and besides, a person is the sum of their memories.

She did wonder if there were a way to keep Aeryn and John from ever going through so much pain.

A flicker of memory reminded her of how successful she had been against Gods and their plans. Moya and Pilot, given to her care now--she missed them, suddenly. Missed leaning against the corridor wall and sensing Moya's life and love. Missed talking with Pilot when all of the others were asleep. Or merely sitting upon the console, singing softly.

Of all of them, Pilot had seemed to understand her need for religion the most.

She sighed, and shook her head. "This will never do." Leaning, she flicked the radio on, letting the lout, brash music pour into the silence and beat back the memories.

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Parker came stamping in from the cold, pissed off from her conversation with Spike, pissed off at the world, and trying to calm down. Being warmer helped.

"Good evening, Zhaan." She took a deep breath, and then grinned at the music. "That works."

"'Slam-bam-thank-you,'" Zhaan echoed the words from the song, her head tilting to the side as she considered the words with amusement. "Goddess bless, Parker."

"You too." Parker cracked her neck. "How has your day been?" She started wandering again, looking at the little vials and jars, the hanging herbs, and bobbing her head to Bowie on the chorus.

"Rather well," elaborating, Zhaan continued, "I spent most of the morning tending to the garden, and making certain it was prepared for the winter. And yourself?"

"Terrible." Parker touched a vial full of blue liquid, and said, "The classes were fine. The rest was infuriating." She sighed. "I suppose truth serum would be an illegal substance, wouldn't it?"

"Any sort of drug which compromises brain function does fall under the terms of 'illegal' substances, yes." Zhaan hedged carefully.

"Figured," Parker said quietly. "Do you have," she tried to think of something fun, something that cheer her up, without being poisonous or toxic or flammable. "Bath salts? Perfume? Things like that?"

"I do. There are oils as well." Sliding off the stool gracefully, Zhaan walked over to the shelf with the oils and selected one. "I have found that the plants of Earth produce lovely, intoxicating, yet relaxing aromas." She held the bottle out to Parker.

Parker sniffed, smelling violets and roses, and a tang of citrus. "That's lovely. And maybe-- do you have anything that smells like cinnamon? Just a little?"

Considering for a moment, Zhaan selected another bottle, "Perhaps this."

Cinnamon and cardoman, and what Parker thought was vetiver. "I'll take them both. Thanks, Zhaan."

Maybe if she took a nice long bath, she wouldn't want a cigarette.

Maybe.

"You're welcome." Zhaan smiled and moved to fill out a receipt. "I would also recommend a mug of tea with honey."

"I'll do that," Parker said, at least calmer than she'd been when she walked in. "I really have to bring my friends by here sometime soon. Have a good night."

Stark does not like the cold. The last time he was cold things went horribly wrong. This is a convenient excuse for not venturing out of the school buildings, but he's decided excuses aren't really doing him any good at this point. And the assignment for ethics on trying to change a behavior is as good a reason as any to be out here in the cold.

So he waited for the girl inside to leave before opening the door to the shop and looking inside.

Glancing up as the door opened again, Zhaan froze. "Stark." She shook off the paralysis and smiled, "I've missed seeing you."

Though she could have said she missed all of them.
I went to bed literally two minutes after Parker's last comment. Sorry.

((I figured you had crashed, it was late. Want me to move this to your post for today?))

Sure! I need to go be a good shopkeeper, anyway.

Sanctity: Eveningish.

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