Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Invader Zim.
Chapter Nine: Feelings of Fear
Tah hummed a tune as she marched toward to observation deck. Her plan required her to look like she was taking a break, so she saw no reason why she shouldn't take one. In her hand she held a music disk she'd borrowed from Dak and she was looking forward to watching the stars as she listened to the melodies. She'd heard the Massive would be passing by a nebula that morning, and she didn't want to miss it.
Before she could go, however, she wanted to swing by her quarters and change her cloths. Since she had spend a good part of the night in the library, she hadn't had a chance to change and she was beginning to feel somewhat grungy. She hurried toward her chambers, pausing slightly when she saw a small smudge on her door. She stared at it for a moment before squaring her shoulders and ordering the door to open. The explosion made her fly limply down the hall -
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Yempt walked alongside Twaine as they made their way to the researcher's quarters. For some reason, Twaine just happened to have the day off. This automatically made Yempt suspicious, although his companion insisted that Tzen had nothing to do with the way he was acting. He wondered if it was because of how he'd treated him the other day, but then he reminded himself he didn't care about things like that. He followed the usually cheerful researcher because he was interested in why he was acting so strangely - that was what Yempt kept repeating in his head.
Since the previous night when he had burst into tears in Yempt's room, Twaine had reverted to being even more annoying than usual. He gleefully hummed, bobbing his head as he walked to his room. When they arrived, he immediately flopped on his bed, reaching back to support his head with his arms. Yempt glanced around, not sure what to make of his companion's room. It was clean, but was also full of all sorts of strange things most Irkens wouldn't bother having. Posters lined the walls, small decorative figurines sat on his desk, and little white lights were hung from the ceiling. Yempt stopped at the foot of Twaine's bed, where a large, obnoxious hat was hung on the post. "This is - colorful," he commented as he crossed his arms and peered about.
Twaine slightly lifted his head. "You like my room? Oh, you're too nice to me, Sweetness." He smiled as he received a scorching glare.
Yempt stared at the other bed in the room, neatly made and abandoned. "No one will live with you, you're so weird."
Twaine sat up on his bed. "No, no." His voice was slightly more serious. "My roommate was a marauder - named Wes. Real fun guy, but in the last invasion..." He seemed sad for a moment as he continued to stare at the empty bed. "He was a friendly guy." He smiled again and turned to Yempt. "Friendly as a peach!"
Yempt pursed his lips in thought. "I'm sorry to hear about this Wes," he eventually said sullenly. "He's how you started going to the marauder parties."
Twaine shrugged. "I told him how I liked to party, and he knew where the parties were! I haven't been assigned a new roomy yet, but I'm sure my next one will be just as peachy friendly!" The researcher made an effort to show his excitement by giving himself a tight hug.
Yempt grunted as he walked around the room. He stopped at Twaine's desk and held out one of the many figurines. It was a simple glass ball, but there seemed to be something cloudy inside. Billows of red, orange, blue, and pink swirled about in a dazzling display. For a moment Yempt found himself mesmerized. It reminded him of the sunrise on Food Courtia before he remembered where he was every morning. He grunted and set the ball down, harshly but not so as to break it. "You and this Wes guy had something going, didn't you?"
Twaine laughed. "He was nice as a peach, and liked to party, but he was strait as a line." He held out his arm with his claws extended stiffly as a visual. His eyes twinkled at the thought of his friend. "It was all I could do to keep him from bringing his girlfriends over." He then gave Yempt an unmistakable look.
Yempt took one defensive step back, narrowing his eyes. "I am /not/ as nice as a 'peach.' I /don't/ like to party." His voice was as acidic as it had been when he'd informed Twaine that he didn't like him.
Twaine leaned back onto his bed. "I know." This time his voice was not as strong and not able to hide the worry that was underlining everything he did since the night he'd cried. His generally happy mouth turned into a frown.
Again Yempt narrowed his eyes. "What did you find when you hacked into your boss's computer? Tzen has done something to you," he observed stubbornly. "I don't like him."
"You don't like anybody," softly mumbled Twaine, perhaps not expecting Yempt to hear.
Yempt stared down at his boots as he ground his teeth together. He hated talking about emotional things, especially when the other person was determined on keeping secrets. Yet, there was something seriously wrong with Twaine, and he could see it despite the shroud of cheerfulness the playful Irken surrounded himself with. He grumbled to himself - people always told him he saw the worst in everything. He cleared his throat. "Well, I can see you're just going to be a secretive ass. If you won't tell me what's bothering you, then I see no reason to stay. Never really cared anyway..." He turned to leave and was about to open the door when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to see Twaine, his deep red eyes quivering with fear and apprehension.
"I've done something horrible..." he admitted in a shaky voice. He covered his face with his hands and his shoulders began to heave with his sobbing. "So horrible...."
"Gya!" Yempt was hit in the head with a black message probe. He caught it and glared down at it. "What is this monstrosity?!" he complained as he massaged his head. It repeated in electronic words, "Message for Yempt. Message for Yempt." He automatically pushed the button that would identify him and release the message. "Your presence is requested in the infirmary. Report to the infirmary immediately." The ball then flew out of the former waiter's hand and sped off.
Twaine shuddered into a greater sob as he heard the message. He could barely stand from his despair. Yempt took his sleeve and pulled him over to the bed, doing his best to not seem too affectionate. Twaine sat on the bed, still crying into his hands. Yempt backed away and looked at him. "I'll be back," he assured in a bland voice before he turned to leave.
Yempt marched towards the infirmary wondering why he of all Irkens would be sent there. He hadn't figured Tah would care enough about him to call for him if anything ever happened to her, but he didn't really know anyone else on the ship. He made his way to the check-in desk and was sent to one of the small medical rooms. Indeed, Tah was lying there hooked up to a number of beeping machines. Yempt was shocked to discover that she wore no shirt, but most of her body was covered in stark white bandages. A number of small scrapes and bruises covered what skin was visible. "What happened to you?" he asked after a moment of looking her over.
She lifted her head to look at him. Yempt raised a brow when he realized she could barely keep her dark maroon eyes open due to swelling and fatigue. "Yempt," she said weakly. "I didn't know if you'd come..." She tried to smile.
Yempt scoffed. "I'm flattered at your lack of faith," he replied in a dry tone.
She sighed at his sarcasm and leaned her head back down. "He knows I'm here and is teasing me. There was an explosion in my room. The blast wasn't one meant to kill."
"Are you sure?" Yempt eyed her injuries, concluding that whatever had hit her must have had deadly potential.
"Yes, I'm sure. I know him. He's through with merely trying to get me out of his way. It's been personal for a long time, and when we finally meet eachother, the final solution is going to be determined by one of our hands. I'll kill him, or he'll kill me."
"...why did you call for me?"
Tah adjusted herself slightly before replying, apparently somewhat uncomfortable. "I know who set the trap - someone being manipulated by my enemy. I've made sure I'm the only one who will investigate the explosion, and when I do I'll make sure I'll come up with nothing."
Yempt gave her a look that displayed just how stupid he thought she was. "You're going to hide the evidence of who placed the bomb? Why the Irk? What kind of two-bit investigator are you, anyway?"
"It wasn't his fault. I don't want him to get into trouble. Plus, if he's interrogated I have a feeling he won't be trusted to hold his tongue - we may find him dead. He's being manipulated. I don't know how - but he's not the criminal type."
Yempt rolled his eyes in frustration. "But WHO is this mysterious bomber what bombs your room? You think he'll go for me too?"
Tah smiled faintly to herself, as if thinking of some private joke. "I can't tell Dak or Clay because they're so loyal. They would want to eliminate the danger to me, so I'm sure they wouldn't hesitate telling the Tallest - even if I told them not to. Such good friends -"
"The NAME?! Are you building suspense to create some glorious sense of drama in your life? You're such a loser..." He folded his arms and glanced away moodily.
"You have to protect him. Make sure no one sees that he's the one who did this. You'll be my assistant, won't you? Just for the time being. I know you don't like me..."
"I don't know if I'll help you. Just tell me who it is and I'll think about it."
Tah relaxed her body as she leaned her head deeper into her pillow. "Twaine set the bomb."
"Are you out of your mind?! I think your nightmares have started affecting your brain, TAH! Twaine wouldn't do something like that. He's a goofy guy who likes to joke around and have fun. He's not a killer! He's one of the most optimistic, happy, joyful, colorful -" Yempt paused as the words Twaine had tearfully spoken rang in his antennae - 'I've done something horrible... So horrible...." He paled as he realized the obvious. "I'm - I'm going to him now." He left without saying anything more to Tah, who he expected would soon fall asleep anyway.
He headed strait to Twaine's room, taking a deep breath before entering. Twaine was huddled in a corner, hugging a pillow closely to his chest. He stepped in, not sure how to approach a situation like this. Finally he spoke. "Tah told me what you did. She knows." He flinched at his lack of tact. Twaine looked up at him, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were wide and trembling as Yempt approached him. "You bombed her room." Twaine nodded sadly. "You almost killed her." Again a nod.
"I didn't want to..."
"But some bastard made you do it." He was now standing directly in front of Twaine as the frightened Irken continued to clutch onto the pillow. Yempt grabbed the pillow and flung it across the room, not caring where it landed. He took a tight hold of Twaine's chin in his hand and looked searchingly into his infinitely red eyes. "She's not going to tell anybody else," Yempt admitted, "And she's going to destroy the evidence it was you."
This did not seem to cheer Twaine up. He wiggled his chin out of Yempt's grip and huddled even closer to the wall. "I'll just have to try again. I'll kill her next time - probably."
There was no apparent sympathy in Yempt's voice, although that was the emotion he wanted to portray. "Who told you to do this?"
Twaine froze, a slight shudder coursing through him. "I - I can't tell you. He'll have someone get me. I'd tell you, but - but he'd have someone get you too." At this thought the intimidated researcher buried his face in his arms, shutting his eyes against a new bombardment of tears.
Yempt got the sudden urge to do something physical to calm the researcher down. He wanted to touch him, or hug him - but he pushed all those thoughts away when he envisioned himself leaning forward and kissing the flamboyant man. Instead he flopped himself on the bed, figuring that just being there would be better then doing something drastic or stupid on his part. "Huk'ra..." he whispered to the silence in the room.
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As the morning eventually drifted into the afternoon, Tah was beginning to feel a lot better. She was joyful that she was an Irken, a race known for fast healing. Her wounds were already closing themselves up, and she was able to comfortably sit up after lunch. She calmly read a book Purple had given her when she heard the door his open. She looked up and smiled to see her old boss and comrade, Tzen. He walked in with a smile on his face and a small plant in his hands. He set it on the table next to her. "I heard what happened to you," he said in his sleepy voice as he adjusted the leaves of the plant with a gentle hand. "How do you feel?"
"Much better then I did this morning. I got caught up on a lot of sleep." She smiled. "It's very nice of you to stop by."
He pulled up a chair and seated himself at her side. "A pleasure to see you. You were always one of my best workers." He glanced back over to his plant. "I thought you might want some cheering up. This plant doesn't need water - it lives on air. A fascinating adaptation for survival."
Tah examined the plant, but didn't know enough about flora to see anything special about it. She appreciated the gift nonetheless. "That should make it easy to care for. Thank you."
"You're very welcome." He turned to her and again smiled warmly. Tah didn't know why, but he always made her feel at ease. He was just so calm. "You know, I admire you quite a bit. You're one of the few people I've met who can see something you don't like and do what you need to do to get rid of it, no matter what it takes. I understand that you've been in more than one unsavory situation."
Tah nodded. "Yes, but I look forward to when I'll be through. I'm really sick of this."
There was a sparkle of curiosity in Tzen's eye. "Oh? You're already tired of it all? I thought this sort of thing excited you. You're enthusiasm on a case has gotten quite a bit of attention."
She laughed at the comment. "Some people think I get carried away. All my friends tell me I don't sleep enough when I'm onto something. What they don't know is that I always get my best leads at night!" Her laughter became more hardy, and Tzen grinned happily at her show of good health.
"I brought something for you, figuring you'd be bored." A metal leg reached out of his pod and reached inside, pulling out a box. He looked around for a patient's eating table and placed it over Tah. He emptied the contents of the box to reveal a number of puzzle pieces. "Would you like to put it together?"
"Okay."
The two began to organize the pieces by color and type, separating the end pieces from all the rest. Almost as soon as they had begun, Tzen set two pieces on the table, fitting them together. He smiled and fingered through the pile, pulling out a number of other pieces. He quickly set them down, fitting them together easily with his first two matchers. He made a sound of pleasure as he continued.
Tah began to watch him as he placed piece after piece in its correct spot. She'd never seen anybody so talented at puzzle's before. He noticed her awe and giggled sweetly. "I've always loved puzzles. Anything to occupy the mind." She nodded and continued to watch as he skillfully put the puzzle together.
"Fascinating...."
Chapter Nine: Feelings of Fear
Tah hummed a tune as she marched toward to observation deck. Her plan required her to look like she was taking a break, so she saw no reason why she shouldn't take one. In her hand she held a music disk she'd borrowed from Dak and she was looking forward to watching the stars as she listened to the melodies. She'd heard the Massive would be passing by a nebula that morning, and she didn't want to miss it.
Before she could go, however, she wanted to swing by her quarters and change her cloths. Since she had spend a good part of the night in the library, she hadn't had a chance to change and she was beginning to feel somewhat grungy. She hurried toward her chambers, pausing slightly when she saw a small smudge on her door. She stared at it for a moment before squaring her shoulders and ordering the door to open. The explosion made her fly limply down the hall -
########################################################################
Yempt walked alongside Twaine as they made their way to the researcher's quarters. For some reason, Twaine just happened to have the day off. This automatically made Yempt suspicious, although his companion insisted that Tzen had nothing to do with the way he was acting. He wondered if it was because of how he'd treated him the other day, but then he reminded himself he didn't care about things like that. He followed the usually cheerful researcher because he was interested in why he was acting so strangely - that was what Yempt kept repeating in his head.
Since the previous night when he had burst into tears in Yempt's room, Twaine had reverted to being even more annoying than usual. He gleefully hummed, bobbing his head as he walked to his room. When they arrived, he immediately flopped on his bed, reaching back to support his head with his arms. Yempt glanced around, not sure what to make of his companion's room. It was clean, but was also full of all sorts of strange things most Irkens wouldn't bother having. Posters lined the walls, small decorative figurines sat on his desk, and little white lights were hung from the ceiling. Yempt stopped at the foot of Twaine's bed, where a large, obnoxious hat was hung on the post. "This is - colorful," he commented as he crossed his arms and peered about.
Twaine slightly lifted his head. "You like my room? Oh, you're too nice to me, Sweetness." He smiled as he received a scorching glare.
Yempt stared at the other bed in the room, neatly made and abandoned. "No one will live with you, you're so weird."
Twaine sat up on his bed. "No, no." His voice was slightly more serious. "My roommate was a marauder - named Wes. Real fun guy, but in the last invasion..." He seemed sad for a moment as he continued to stare at the empty bed. "He was a friendly guy." He smiled again and turned to Yempt. "Friendly as a peach!"
Yempt pursed his lips in thought. "I'm sorry to hear about this Wes," he eventually said sullenly. "He's how you started going to the marauder parties."
Twaine shrugged. "I told him how I liked to party, and he knew where the parties were! I haven't been assigned a new roomy yet, but I'm sure my next one will be just as peachy friendly!" The researcher made an effort to show his excitement by giving himself a tight hug.
Yempt grunted as he walked around the room. He stopped at Twaine's desk and held out one of the many figurines. It was a simple glass ball, but there seemed to be something cloudy inside. Billows of red, orange, blue, and pink swirled about in a dazzling display. For a moment Yempt found himself mesmerized. It reminded him of the sunrise on Food Courtia before he remembered where he was every morning. He grunted and set the ball down, harshly but not so as to break it. "You and this Wes guy had something going, didn't you?"
Twaine laughed. "He was nice as a peach, and liked to party, but he was strait as a line." He held out his arm with his claws extended stiffly as a visual. His eyes twinkled at the thought of his friend. "It was all I could do to keep him from bringing his girlfriends over." He then gave Yempt an unmistakable look.
Yempt took one defensive step back, narrowing his eyes. "I am /not/ as nice as a 'peach.' I /don't/ like to party." His voice was as acidic as it had been when he'd informed Twaine that he didn't like him.
Twaine leaned back onto his bed. "I know." This time his voice was not as strong and not able to hide the worry that was underlining everything he did since the night he'd cried. His generally happy mouth turned into a frown.
Again Yempt narrowed his eyes. "What did you find when you hacked into your boss's computer? Tzen has done something to you," he observed stubbornly. "I don't like him."
"You don't like anybody," softly mumbled Twaine, perhaps not expecting Yempt to hear.
Yempt stared down at his boots as he ground his teeth together. He hated talking about emotional things, especially when the other person was determined on keeping secrets. Yet, there was something seriously wrong with Twaine, and he could see it despite the shroud of cheerfulness the playful Irken surrounded himself with. He grumbled to himself - people always told him he saw the worst in everything. He cleared his throat. "Well, I can see you're just going to be a secretive ass. If you won't tell me what's bothering you, then I see no reason to stay. Never really cared anyway..." He turned to leave and was about to open the door when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to see Twaine, his deep red eyes quivering with fear and apprehension.
"I've done something horrible..." he admitted in a shaky voice. He covered his face with his hands and his shoulders began to heave with his sobbing. "So horrible...."
"Gya!" Yempt was hit in the head with a black message probe. He caught it and glared down at it. "What is this monstrosity?!" he complained as he massaged his head. It repeated in electronic words, "Message for Yempt. Message for Yempt." He automatically pushed the button that would identify him and release the message. "Your presence is requested in the infirmary. Report to the infirmary immediately." The ball then flew out of the former waiter's hand and sped off.
Twaine shuddered into a greater sob as he heard the message. He could barely stand from his despair. Yempt took his sleeve and pulled him over to the bed, doing his best to not seem too affectionate. Twaine sat on the bed, still crying into his hands. Yempt backed away and looked at him. "I'll be back," he assured in a bland voice before he turned to leave.
Yempt marched towards the infirmary wondering why he of all Irkens would be sent there. He hadn't figured Tah would care enough about him to call for him if anything ever happened to her, but he didn't really know anyone else on the ship. He made his way to the check-in desk and was sent to one of the small medical rooms. Indeed, Tah was lying there hooked up to a number of beeping machines. Yempt was shocked to discover that she wore no shirt, but most of her body was covered in stark white bandages. A number of small scrapes and bruises covered what skin was visible. "What happened to you?" he asked after a moment of looking her over.
She lifted her head to look at him. Yempt raised a brow when he realized she could barely keep her dark maroon eyes open due to swelling and fatigue. "Yempt," she said weakly. "I didn't know if you'd come..." She tried to smile.
Yempt scoffed. "I'm flattered at your lack of faith," he replied in a dry tone.
She sighed at his sarcasm and leaned her head back down. "He knows I'm here and is teasing me. There was an explosion in my room. The blast wasn't one meant to kill."
"Are you sure?" Yempt eyed her injuries, concluding that whatever had hit her must have had deadly potential.
"Yes, I'm sure. I know him. He's through with merely trying to get me out of his way. It's been personal for a long time, and when we finally meet eachother, the final solution is going to be determined by one of our hands. I'll kill him, or he'll kill me."
"...why did you call for me?"
Tah adjusted herself slightly before replying, apparently somewhat uncomfortable. "I know who set the trap - someone being manipulated by my enemy. I've made sure I'm the only one who will investigate the explosion, and when I do I'll make sure I'll come up with nothing."
Yempt gave her a look that displayed just how stupid he thought she was. "You're going to hide the evidence of who placed the bomb? Why the Irk? What kind of two-bit investigator are you, anyway?"
"It wasn't his fault. I don't want him to get into trouble. Plus, if he's interrogated I have a feeling he won't be trusted to hold his tongue - we may find him dead. He's being manipulated. I don't know how - but he's not the criminal type."
Yempt rolled his eyes in frustration. "But WHO is this mysterious bomber what bombs your room? You think he'll go for me too?"
Tah smiled faintly to herself, as if thinking of some private joke. "I can't tell Dak or Clay because they're so loyal. They would want to eliminate the danger to me, so I'm sure they wouldn't hesitate telling the Tallest - even if I told them not to. Such good friends -"
"The NAME?! Are you building suspense to create some glorious sense of drama in your life? You're such a loser..." He folded his arms and glanced away moodily.
"You have to protect him. Make sure no one sees that he's the one who did this. You'll be my assistant, won't you? Just for the time being. I know you don't like me..."
"I don't know if I'll help you. Just tell me who it is and I'll think about it."
Tah relaxed her body as she leaned her head deeper into her pillow. "Twaine set the bomb."
"Are you out of your mind?! I think your nightmares have started affecting your brain, TAH! Twaine wouldn't do something like that. He's a goofy guy who likes to joke around and have fun. He's not a killer! He's one of the most optimistic, happy, joyful, colorful -" Yempt paused as the words Twaine had tearfully spoken rang in his antennae - 'I've done something horrible... So horrible...." He paled as he realized the obvious. "I'm - I'm going to him now." He left without saying anything more to Tah, who he expected would soon fall asleep anyway.
He headed strait to Twaine's room, taking a deep breath before entering. Twaine was huddled in a corner, hugging a pillow closely to his chest. He stepped in, not sure how to approach a situation like this. Finally he spoke. "Tah told me what you did. She knows." He flinched at his lack of tact. Twaine looked up at him, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were wide and trembling as Yempt approached him. "You bombed her room." Twaine nodded sadly. "You almost killed her." Again a nod.
"I didn't want to..."
"But some bastard made you do it." He was now standing directly in front of Twaine as the frightened Irken continued to clutch onto the pillow. Yempt grabbed the pillow and flung it across the room, not caring where it landed. He took a tight hold of Twaine's chin in his hand and looked searchingly into his infinitely red eyes. "She's not going to tell anybody else," Yempt admitted, "And she's going to destroy the evidence it was you."
This did not seem to cheer Twaine up. He wiggled his chin out of Yempt's grip and huddled even closer to the wall. "I'll just have to try again. I'll kill her next time - probably."
There was no apparent sympathy in Yempt's voice, although that was the emotion he wanted to portray. "Who told you to do this?"
Twaine froze, a slight shudder coursing through him. "I - I can't tell you. He'll have someone get me. I'd tell you, but - but he'd have someone get you too." At this thought the intimidated researcher buried his face in his arms, shutting his eyes against a new bombardment of tears.
Yempt got the sudden urge to do something physical to calm the researcher down. He wanted to touch him, or hug him - but he pushed all those thoughts away when he envisioned himself leaning forward and kissing the flamboyant man. Instead he flopped himself on the bed, figuring that just being there would be better then doing something drastic or stupid on his part. "Huk'ra..." he whispered to the silence in the room.
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As the morning eventually drifted into the afternoon, Tah was beginning to feel a lot better. She was joyful that she was an Irken, a race known for fast healing. Her wounds were already closing themselves up, and she was able to comfortably sit up after lunch. She calmly read a book Purple had given her when she heard the door his open. She looked up and smiled to see her old boss and comrade, Tzen. He walked in with a smile on his face and a small plant in his hands. He set it on the table next to her. "I heard what happened to you," he said in his sleepy voice as he adjusted the leaves of the plant with a gentle hand. "How do you feel?"
"Much better then I did this morning. I got caught up on a lot of sleep." She smiled. "It's very nice of you to stop by."
He pulled up a chair and seated himself at her side. "A pleasure to see you. You were always one of my best workers." He glanced back over to his plant. "I thought you might want some cheering up. This plant doesn't need water - it lives on air. A fascinating adaptation for survival."
Tah examined the plant, but didn't know enough about flora to see anything special about it. She appreciated the gift nonetheless. "That should make it easy to care for. Thank you."
"You're very welcome." He turned to her and again smiled warmly. Tah didn't know why, but he always made her feel at ease. He was just so calm. "You know, I admire you quite a bit. You're one of the few people I've met who can see something you don't like and do what you need to do to get rid of it, no matter what it takes. I understand that you've been in more than one unsavory situation."
Tah nodded. "Yes, but I look forward to when I'll be through. I'm really sick of this."
There was a sparkle of curiosity in Tzen's eye. "Oh? You're already tired of it all? I thought this sort of thing excited you. You're enthusiasm on a case has gotten quite a bit of attention."
She laughed at the comment. "Some people think I get carried away. All my friends tell me I don't sleep enough when I'm onto something. What they don't know is that I always get my best leads at night!" Her laughter became more hardy, and Tzen grinned happily at her show of good health.
"I brought something for you, figuring you'd be bored." A metal leg reached out of his pod and reached inside, pulling out a box. He looked around for a patient's eating table and placed it over Tah. He emptied the contents of the box to reveal a number of puzzle pieces. "Would you like to put it together?"
"Okay."
The two began to organize the pieces by color and type, separating the end pieces from all the rest. Almost as soon as they had begun, Tzen set two pieces on the table, fitting them together. He smiled and fingered through the pile, pulling out a number of other pieces. He quickly set them down, fitting them together easily with his first two matchers. He made a sound of pleasure as he continued.
Tah began to watch him as he placed piece after piece in its correct spot. She'd never seen anybody so talented at puzzle's before. He noticed her awe and giggled sweetly. "I've always loved puzzles. Anything to occupy the mind." She nodded and continued to watch as he skillfully put the puzzle together.
"Fascinating...."