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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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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."

Havelock nobly does not laugh.

"Yes, I have been commended for it on many an occasion."

"Have you really?"

Shock!

"By whom?"

"Mostly those with a taste for irony."

Read: Madam and nobody else.

"Aha."

Now giving him a sidelong glance.

"I suppose that excludes Master Maxwell."

Havelock shrugs.

"Perhaps. Though I have not spoken with him in some time."

One of those things about ~~timezones~~ being busy looking after small children, and ~~timezones~~ heading out to assassinate people, while ~~timezones~~ getting involved in politics.