Stark Industries, Monday

[endsthegame]

"You're humming."

"No, I'm not," Ender said, sighing. "I'm just in a good mood, that's all."

"You might as well be humming," she judged. "Oooh! I should redirect some more spam. Maybe some educational pamflets--"

"Please don't." Ender shot Jane's avatar on his screen a dry look. "Let's get back to my inbox, please."

"Sorry about caring about your little human feelings for once," Jane sniffed. Ender ignored it. He still had work to do, even if he wasn't hearing back from Ben's universe - his own still had plenty to do, now that his colony ship was being geared up for launch sometime next year.

So there he was, typing away.

[[ jane nfb, post is open! ]]

Comments

[momslilassassin]

Ben stopped in at his usual time, carrying food and coffee.

"Ho, Ender," he said with a quick smile as he dropped the food onto the counter and, feeling incredibly daring, dropped a kiss on his cheek.

[endsthegame]

It made Ender smile, and he glanced up. "Ho, kreetle," he said. "Welcome to the afternoon."

[momslilassassin]

"Happy free candy day," Ben replied.

It was entirely possible that Ben had missed the point of the holiday.

[endsthegame]

"Of course that's all you'd take from it," Ender said, giving the tiny bowl he'd brought a little shove. "Big Candy has won again."

[momslilassassin]

"These are little candies," Ben noted, unwrapping something chocolate and popping it into his mouth.

[endsthegame]

"How much have you had?" asked Ender, who suspected the answer was 'many'.

[momslilassassin]

Many.

"A few here and there," Ben replied. "I'm saving room for the party, too."

[endsthegame]

Ender shook his head, amused, and reached for his lunch. "I'm not looking after you if you eat your way into a stomachache," he said.

[momslilassassin]

"Noted," Ben replied, smiling. "I'm not seven years old. I won't eat myself into a sugar coma."

But he might come close.

[endsthegame]

"You'd better not," Ender said. "I still have uses for you."

[momslilassassin]

He blushed. "Really."

[endsthegame]

"Lunch, for a start," Ender said, picking up the bag as he got on up. "Turn the sign, please?"

[momslilassassin]

Ben waved his fingers like a lazy Jedi and the sign on the door flipped to "closed."

He followed Ender into the back. "I'm only here because the food is," he lied.

[endsthegame]

"In that case, you're not getting any of it," Ender decided, clearing a few things off of the table they'd used the other week before setting his lunch down.

[momslilassassin]

"I'll go back and eat all the candy instead," Ben threatened with a grin, flopping into a chair.

[endsthegame]

"And then you'll die of a lack of nutrition," Ender said. He rifled through the bag and got some of the food out for himself. "I think that punishment speaks for itself."

[momslilassassin]

"Yes, but I wouldn't die today," Ben said blithely. "But I did bring food for me, and since you never finish the food for you, it would be a waste."

[endsthegame]

"Well, I can't compete with that logic," Ender said, looking amused. "I take it you've been enjoying the day so far."

[momslilassassin]

"There was a game called Candyland in class today," Ben said, nodding, "and I told them about dejarik and sabacc."

He frowned thoughtfully. "I still need to show Topher how to play dejarik."

[endsthegame]

Ender snorted. "Good luck with that," he said. "He doesn't think strategically at all."

[momslilassassin]

"You, kreetle, are a little unnaturally brilliant when it comes to strategy," Ben said with a fond smile. "And if he's not that good at it, my aliens will spend all of that time chomping his up, and that's entertaining too."

[endsthegame]

"Oh, even for non-Battle School standards, I mean," Ender said, poking at his lunch. "He's got no spatial awareness - he can't focus on more than one entity at once."

[momslilassassin]

"In that case, I'll stomp him," Ben said with a tiny grin. "He just wants to see cool space tech anyway."

[endsthegame]

"Don't let him see your lightsaber," Ender suggested.

[momslilassassin]

Ben snorted. "Not a chance," he said. "He'd cut his own arm off."