December 26
So, the girls were still gone, and Crane was not panicking. They had, after all, insisted rather loudly that they never wanted to see each other again.
He just…hadn't thought the triple statements of "see you in hell" had applied to him. He would have thought at least one of them would have given him some kind of contact after three days of nothing. Even if they weren't ready to make up with each other, they should have tried to check up on him.
When it occurred to him then that he had skipped three of the last four meals, hadn't had so much as a snack in at least twelve hours, and was probably going to pass out if he stood up too fast, he deigned to admit that they did have their useful moments, and he might not actually be better off without them. He skirted the edges of the concept that he needed them, but turned back for shallower waters just in time.
Needed them, indeed. They were only minions. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He wasn't a child.
But—
Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!
He'd grown accustomed to their faces.
No! Stop right there, Crane. You are not bursting into spontaneous song over those three.
Well, it really wasn't his fault they spent so much of their time watching musicals at top volume. It was no surprise he was picking something up from them, if only a tendency to feel irrationally nervy when things were this quiet for this long. It wasn't like he was wearing holes in the carpet, pacing back and forth, waiting for their return.
At that point, it occurred to him to stop moving and look down.
Huh. What do you know.
Well…it was a very old rug. It would have come apart sooner or later.
Or else he did want them back. But that was unfathomable. He didn't miss them. He was just…used to having them around. They were fixtures.
They had sworn they would never leave him again. And it wasn't that he needed them, or wanted them, and he certainly didn't miss their company, but…
It was so like them to go back on their word just when he was starting to…
(want?)
To expect them to keep it.
And here he was already starting to wear another track in a different rug.
Maybe it was time to gather a little information. And dinner. Information and dinner.
It had been a while since he'd made an appearance at the Iceberg.