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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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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."

Havelock shrugs.

"Well, it has been awhile," he says earnestly. Yes. "I felt most peculiar the other night, doing something was trained for. Lack of practise, you see."

He tilts his head.

"But all fell out in your favor, did it not?"

He shrugs loosely.

"More or less, yes."

It totally did. He even got to implicate someone else! :D!

Or :|

Puck smiles.

"That's all well, then. We shall manage it yet."

Havelock laughs silently - or ducks his head, smiling, which more or less counts - and turns back to sit on his bed with a faint sigh.

"Oh, I think we shall," he says eventually."

"Mmm."

This is a noise of agreement, which Puck makes as he joins him. Mattresses are definitely comfier and less labor-intensive than standing.

Also, Havelock is comfier than the mattress for leaning-against purposes. Puck has tested it empirically under controlled conditions.

It's almost surpising. He's not very squishy, really.

But he puts an accommodating arm around Puck when he arrives right next to him, so that's clearly all right.

"I forgot to ask," he says, after a quiet moment. "Is everything well here?"

"Mmm? Oh, quite well." Except for, you know, Lilly's being missing and everything. Puck hasn't quite caught on to that one yet.

"Rather distressingly dull, actually," he adds with a sigh. "Your own doings are of far greater interest."

"I suppose dull has it's advantages," he says. Nobody is likely to be kidnapped or murdered, for instance.

Nobody who matters, anyway.

"So I have heard," Puck says dryly. "But thus far, I have yet to experience them."

"Hmm, one needs a great deal of patience to make it bearable," Havelock replies.

Or, you know, any.

"That quite explains it," Puck sighs.

And ... snuggles, a little bit.

"I have ever been lacking in patience."

Snuggling? What is this madness?!

"What a terrible flaw."

Meanwhile, Havelock curls an arm more comfortably around Puck.

This is not madness!

THIS IS SPART--

"'Tis a wonder you put up with me, really."

"Oh, it is a daily struggle."

:D?

"I'm sure."

Puck is Very Serious.

"Your fortitude is to be commended."