Ophelia quipped before drinking her own tea. She smiles a bit as he puts his coat around her, tugging it around her frame as she listens to him. She’s quiet for awhile, cradling the mug in her hands as she studies her step father.
“I’d have to disagree.”
She states plainly, looking at him. “I understand a bit how you feel but you… you’re incredible. You’re a great dad to me and I’m spoiled to be able to call you that.” She reaches over and takes his hand gently, squeezing it as she meets his eyes before a grin spreads across her features.
“I’m glad a time tot can help you though. Means I’m good at something, especially if it gets even the slightest smile out of you.”
“No, it doesn’t. But. You’ll get it when you have kids, if you ever do. Up to you, really. Not gonna be at you to do the ‘duty of the higher race’ and procreate. But anyway. If you’re a parent, even a rubbish one like me, you’ll want to protect your kids.”
He kisses her knuckles, loudly, obnoxiously, and returns their joined hands to their place resting on the teatable. He has no intention of letting go.
“Thank you, luv. You’re far more than ‘just’ a Time Tot, and what you are good at is nobler than you may think.”
“That’s not a happy face. Penny for your thoughts?”
“Hoh, Button.”
And with that the classic parental dodge is issued, but one with more than partial truth:
“With you around it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. C’mere, sit with me, have some tea.”
Ophelia smiled faintly, sitting down beside him and pouring herself a cuppa.
“Right, so tell me what’s on your mind? I’m not as naive as I may seem sometimes.”
Koschei sharply, appreciatively laughs.
“It’s not that I think you’re naive. It’s that I’d rather spare you any unnecessary darkness.”
He sips his golden-hued ceylon blend, placing it back on the table between them. He removes his black overcoat, his defensive armor, and drapes it over her shoulders. And then with a wry sigh, he sits again.
“I wish I could tell you the scars of a lifetime of service to eugenicist imbeciles eventually fade, but perhaps they don’t. Not on a bad day. On a bad day you still wonder if you’re good enough. If you’ve done well enough. Or if you’re just … too much, sometimes, for a better-adjusted life form to handle.”
He smiles wanly.
“It passes. These days, at least. When I’m with you, and your father.”
she steps out of the tardis and does a bit of a twirl, all black and purple lace with a wide brimmed, pointed hat cocked to the side half hiding her face. her grin is sinister – or it would be, if it wasn’t as goofy as it was.
Icarus 