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And eventually, Havelock heads upstairs, with the intention of getting to sleep.

...At some point. Half an hour later sees him showered and in clean clothes, sitting cross-legged on his bed and writing up certain impressions that he doesn't wish to forget. Among them ideas for a new trap to install in his aunt's chimney.

Idly, he wonders if razor blades would be too unsporting.

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"Inconvenient, yes," Puck says with a sympathetic nod. "I have long been of the opinion that those fortunate enough to be gifted with relations ought not to be overly cavalier about them."

"I try," Havelock says gravely.

"Which is why I had a question for you. Obviously the children would need to be cared for, but would you be interested in escorting her to a ball a week or two hence?"

This is not Havelock pimping out his boyfriend. It's... well, it's not that, okay?

Puck's eyebrows arch.

"A ball?"

Well. He guesses everybody needs a little time to unwind. Especially when people are paying money to have them exhumed.

"Yes. She insists she must attend, and accompanying her myself would be counterproductive, as I intend to cover her from the upper gallery."

Also, that would be weird, but that thought actually didn't occur to him.

It would be weird. Puck makes a bit of a face at the idea.

"I suppose I might be induced to put in an appearance," he allows graciously. "Do you imagine her ill-wishers will act in so public a venue?"

Havelock shrugs.

"I have done. It's not unknown, and as I suspect her home will shortly be ruled out as too dangerous to attempt... If they want her gone so much, they will try. The Guild would not attack her out in the street, but in a previously announced location, yes."

"Hmmm."

Puck looks very thoughtful. Meanwhile, Adrian looks very sleepy. (Apparently, subterfuge tuckers him out.)

After a moment, Puck nods.

"In which case, I am certain I should be delighted to attend." He grins. "If they are half so bold as you imagine them to be, it will make for rather a diverting sort of evening."

Havelock smiles, absently rubbing his forehead, then dropping it to reassuringly stroke the startled Aria. It's been a hell of a few days, don't you know.

"Oh, very," he says. "Thank you. I will let her know she can stop looking."

He laughs, amused.

"Has her search been very extensive?"

"I believe she has gone through her time in Ankh-Morpork in the company of many society young men."

Blank, blank expression.

"... Aha."

Puck's tone is exceedingly delicate.

"Your aunt is rather an exceptional sort of person, Havelock," he says after a moment. "I expect you are aware."

"I have occasionally thought so," says Havelock, equally delicately.

Reflect for a moment on the fact that Havelock was actually raised by this woman.

Puck is marveling at that fact at this very moment, as it happens.

Where did Havelock come from?

"I suppose I shan't cause much stir, at least," he mutters. "I believe the term for it is 'mancandy.'"

So Lilly would say, at any rate.

The ether, one suspects. Although... strip away the flirtation and contrived flamboyance, and Madam does have quite a lot in common with her nephew. Mostly a lack of morals and a talent for shameless manipulation.

Havelock, for his part, pauses briefly to process the term, 'mancandy,' shrugs, and says, "Oh, please, cause as much stir as you wish."

He'll watch, and enjoy it.

Puck laughs, a laugh edging on a snicker.

"As much as I wish? Really?"

Havelock shrugs.

"If it gives the impression that Madam is simply a frivolous society lady, and no threat, then I am all in favour."

Wait till Puck sees the clothing she's likely to insist upon.

Ah, well, he figured there'd be a caveat of some kind. Booooring!

However.

Puck does note that Havelock hasn't said that he's not in favor of anything not encouraging a frivolous view of his aunt ... just that he is in favor of things that do.

It's a subtle sort of distinction.

"I understand perfectly," he assures him.

Havelock's a subtle kind of guy. He'll take the bad with the good and turn it to his advantage in any case.

"Oh, good," he says innocently, instead.

Puck smiles. In his arms, Adrian starts to snore softly.

... This prompts Puck to rise, carefully, and place him gently in his basket. (Well, chair. Crib. Thing. It's made of plastic; Lilly understands it better than he does.)

"I suppose we've a plan, then."

"We do seem to," agrees Havelock, with a very slight, tired but satisfied smile. He looks down at Aria, who is awake but dreamy, eyes held open in the fixed manner of a tired child about to sleep any time now, but holding on to consciousness.

He strokes her cheek lightly, something he's gotten more confident about as the weeks go by, and carefully gets to his feet so as not to jar her.

At this juncture, Puck's expression may soften uncharacteristically.

But he will kill you if you point it out to him.

"How perfectly wonderful."

Havelock wouldn't dream of it, especially as he lowers the baby girl very carefully into her own basket... thing. It wouldn't do to drop her simply because he's overtired.

"I hope so," he says, voice unintentionally softer than before. It's automatic when there are sleeping children in the room.

Puck smiles.

And tiptoes to Havelock's side, whereupon he presses a kiss to his cheek.

"I have not to slightest reason to doubt it."

The assassin smiles vaguely, turning his head to look at Puck properly.

"There is always the element of chance," he allows. "But I think between us we can weight the odds well enough."

"We ought to be able to, at least," Puck says, sounding vaguely scandalized. "Else I should imagine we had quite lost our touches."