fandomhigh | Library, Sunday

It was a bit later in the day that Rosa came in, with two books with her that she had ~~oh so handwavily~~ borrowed from the library the other day, a Russian-English translation guide and a book about dog training, which she now went and set on the counter.

"I'd like to return these," she said. "Spasibo."

Someone, apparently, had decided to lean into the whole Russian spy thing. Because it wouldn't be weetiny Rosa if she wasn't going all out just to prove someone right out of pure, unabashed spite.

"Of course," Lana said. She got up to take the books and set them behind the desk. "Can I help you with anything else while you're here?"

Rosa considered that question for a moment.

She thought she'd done a pretty good job with what she'd gotten the other day, but there was still probably a little more she could do to make sure she was ultra-convincing.

"Do you know if you have anything on Russian ballerina spies?" she asked. "I couldn't find anything the other day."

It was pretty niche, after all.

"Also...." What was the word that stupid coward moose-boy had used? Oh, right. "....Commies."

"I'm not sure, but I can look it up," Lana told her.

She went to the computer. "There's a book here - a series, rather, called The Bolshoi Saga. It sound like it might have what you're looking for. I can't find anything about 'commies', though, I'm afraid."

"That's okay," said Rosa, who'd sort of craned her neck a little to better see what was on the computer. "But a series is good! Any information will be helpful. I've got to learn how to be a..." What was it again? "...Russkaya balerina shpion...as quick as I can."

"What language is that in?" Lana asked. She could tell the meaning from the context and similar words, but she wasn't familiar with it. "And why do you have to learn so quickly?"

"Russian," Rosa informed her.

Had this little seven year old just taught herself Russian in two days? Well, just the basics and some other important phrases and stuff, but Rosa Diaz was a very determined little girl when she put her mind to something...especially when motivated by pure spite.

"And I have to learn quickly so I can shove it in the face of a stupid coward moose-boy."

As if there could be any other reason, Lana.

"A moose-boy?" Lana asked. She'd met the moose in the office, and tried to remember if they had any species here that looked like that. She didn't think so.

Rosa shrugged. "He said he was part-moose."

Actually, what Duke had said was that if Rosa's dog could take on Seivarden's cat, then he was part-moose. But, since Rosa viewed it as an indisputable fact that her dog could indeen take on Seivarden's cat, then that must mean that Duke was in fact...part-moose.

Then she snorted, smirking. "Glupyy los' mal'chik."

Because of course she made sure to memorize that.

"What does that mean?" Lana asked.

Rosa's smirk sharpened.

"Stupid moose-boy."

Well, technically, it was stupid elk boy, but, come on, she was seven. Give her a break.

Lana laughed. "Very impressive. Right. So, those books should be over here, so long as they're not running around the place." She headed for the correct shelf.

And Rosa went following after.

"...running around?" she asked. "Like, for real?"

This, coming from the girl who was genuinely convinced Duke might be part-moose.

Kid-logic, ladies and gentlemen.

A small flock of books ran by, flapping their pages frantically.

"For real," Lana said dryly.

At some point a little girl covered in paint (she'd washed up- it was entirely different paint than what she'd had on her the last two days) wandered in.

"What's going on in here?"

Lana looked up, did a double-take at that face, the paint, and the presence in the Force, and tried not to grin too hugely. Oh, dear.

"Well," she explained, "the books were all being a bit rowdy, but they'll calm down if you read them to each other, so that's what I'm doing."

"Oh. How do books get rowdy?" Sabine wondered.

As if in answer, one of them dashed up to Sabine and tried to jump up her front, and another followed along behind, doing what looked like flapping or gnawing at the first one's pages. The others rustled a lot.

"Now, stop that," Lana told them sternly. "No jumping."

"No jumping!" Sabine repeated, of course trying to slap the books away from her. "They're not s'posed to do that!"

"No, they're not," Lana agreed. "They are being very bad books, which shall not get read at all if they continue."

The lead book rustled its pages pitifully.

"What are they about, if they're bad?" Sabine wondered.

"They're being poorly behaved," Lana explained. "I'm not sure what they're about."

She picked up the rowdy one, holding it firmly so it couldn't snap at her. "This one seems to be a book about modern politics for children." It probably hadn't been for children earlier this week, but there you were.

"I can read that later," she decided, which was probably for the best. "What else you got?"

"Pretty much anything," Lana said. Then, because she knew her audience, "What about a book about art?"

Sabine brightened. "Yes! How'd you know I like art?"

"Because, little wren, you are covered in it!" Lana said, grinning. "Come on, we've got an entire section of art books."

Fortunately the picture books still had all the same pictures, even if the text was more child-like.

Sabine would happily follow along, though she did have to look down at the paint on herself and say, "This is artistic."

"Of course it is," Lana agreed. "Were you making art on something else and got it on you, or were you only making art of yourself?"

She figured it was even odds.

"I painted my room and it got a little out of hand."

Luckily teenage Sabine wouldn't mind tomorrow.

"Oh? What did you paint on it?" Lana asked.

"Birds. And an anooba. And a nexu!"

Quite a few things with teeth, really.

"That sounds very predatorial," Lana said. "What sorts of birds - shriek hawks? Flutterplumes?"

Sabine thought about it, and shrugged. "I dunno. Birds."

"Fair enough," Lana said. She found a book, checked the subject matter, and handed it to Sabine. "What about this? It'll only cover this planet, but still."

You were her favorite, Lana.

She gasped and grabbed the book, immediately flipping through it. So... she liked it!

Lana grinned. She'd lost her to a book. She knew that feeling. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Laaaana? Can you'un read me a book? Without telling Mama or Mama Rose or nobody>"

Lana smiled over at her tiny roommate. "Of course." She held out a hand to Nell. She would always encourage reading. "What would you like to hear?"

"Wait... you sure you'un won't tell the Mama's that I was reading like fairy tales or nuthin'?" Nell asked intently. 'Cause that'd get me a whippin' for sure, but boy howdy would I like to hear a story like them ones."

"I won't tell anyone you don't want me to, I promise," Lana said. "Let's find a book of fairy tales, then."

"'Kay," Nell said happily. "Yer awful nice, Miss Lana."

"I'm glad you think so, Nell," Lana said. She still felt a bit responsible for her, after all.

"Who's a fairy tale book?" she called out, and a small stampeded of several books hurried over. Lana laughed. "All right, one at a time." She picked up the nearest one and settled down with it. "Grimm's fairy tales."

This should be fun, and perfect for a child, right?

"Lana..." Nell looked a bit shy. "Could I maybe... could I sit on you'un's lap? While you read?"

Lana hesitated, then nodded. "You may." She held out her free hand. "You can hold the book while I turn the pages. So long as the book doesn't mind."

The book didn't.

Nell took Lana's hand and clambered up. "I'll be real careful with the book."

It almost purred a bit when Nell held it and that made her giggle. "I think it likes me."

"I think you're right," Lana said. She waited until Nell was settled. "Right. Once upon a time..."

Nell snuggled in to listen to the story attentively. But after a while her eyes began to droop. It had been a long day for the little girl.

Lana...just kept reading. There were other books listening now, waiting their turns. She caught the cover of this one when Nell's hands lost their grip, and it helpfully turned its own pages for her.

It didn't take long for a very tired little girl to fall soundly asleep, totally trusting in Lana.

Library, Sunday

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