in between moments

[she_sells_seashells]

Shell Bell has not found Milliways by herself since the occasion on which she first met Sherlock.

Today, after eight months, she does.

She makes sure that Sherlock and Tony are both awake, finds that they are but do not want to join her in the bar today unless she finds something interesting, checks her coin supply and finds it sufficient, and steps through.

Comments

[she_sells_seashells]

"But, you know, even though you're not my Tony, you're recognizably a Tony, and it would be sad if whatever-it-is killed you, and I can almost certainly help."

[pythbox]

"What... would you, hypothetically, do about it?"

[she_sells_seashells]

"My magic works around wishes. I take a wishcoin, I wish for the problem to be gone, if it doesn't work I try a wishcoin with more angles on it, if the seven-pointed star doesn't work I can't do it but I bet if you're fixing it with a little glowy thing I can fix it better with a pentagon or a hexagon. The wishes are pretty smart but not all that smart, so if the problem is at all complicated you probably want to actually tell me what it is first. If, hypothetically, you wanted it taken care of," she shrugs.

[pythbox]

"It's not that complicated," says Tony. "The reactor powers an electromagnet that keeps tiny little pieces of shrapnel from entering my heart."

[she_sells_seashells]

"So if the shrapnel just disappeared you'd be fine, or would that be a bad idea? Because that's just a square." She bites her cheek and appears a square in her hand.

[pythbox]

"The shrapnel disappearing would... definitely be an improvement."

[she_sells_seashells]

"So do you want me to do it? Or I could give you this square, and you could do it yourself," she shrugs, "the coins work for anyone, it's just only certain people can make them."

[pythbox]

He reaches for it.

[she_sells_seashells]

She presses it into his hand and rocks back on her heels. Then she hops into the air and spins for no reason.

[pythbox]

The square disappears.

"Thanks," Tony says quietly.

[she_sells_seashells]

"You're welcome," says Shell Bell. "Your alts are very nice, you know, I wouldn't be so quick to hand out even a little coin to a random person."

[pythbox]

He quirks a smile, reflexively, like he doesn't really believe it.

[she_sells_seashells]

"They are. Absolute sweethearts. Maybe it's the Sherlocks," she suggests.

[pythbox]

—He laughs.

[she_sells_seashells]

"I could go get mine, if I teleport back to the door on Asgard and go in with my friend from here and stick my head out the door and call her over. My Tony, too, if you want."

[pythbox]

"Are they both your age?"

[she_sells_seashells]

"Yes."

[pythbox]

"Maybe I'll pass," he says wryly.

[she_sells_seashells]

"Why does their being my age have to do with that?"

[pythbox]

He shakes his head.

[she_sells_seashells]

"...Is this about the thing where it seems like every template but mine immediately gets a room when they meet their counterparts?" asks Shell Bell wryly.

[pythbox]

"No," he says, looking appalled.

[she_sells_seashells]

"Then what?"

[pythbox]

"I just... it would be weird," he says plaintively.

[she_sells_seashells]

"How does their being my age make it weird? I met a me who's in her forties, I mentioned her, it's not weird - not even that she's married to someone who's not a you or a Sherlock and has a kid."