LOG: Haroun and Miles - Playing

[x-jetstream.livejournal.com]

Haroun and Miles take a few moments to play some chess.



Haroun set the board up on the lazy susan that he and Miles preferred for their chess matches, and then waited for the boy to arrive. He still had a few minutes, so he wasn't exactly late yet. He idly toyed with the black queen piece in his hand as he waited for the boy to arrive. Juice and cookies were already laid out - the more wired Miles got, the more his game suffered. He tended to spaz on him, and chess was not a game for spazzing at.

Stepping into the room which Haroun had been moved to in the infirmary since the new arrival at the school, Miles paused to push the door nearly entirely shut with his foot, balancing a small tray carefully, before grinning at Haroun cheerfully. "Miles brought tea. Mama made it and all, for while we are playing Chess!" The word chess was clearly capitalized, and the tray carefully handled as Miles walked closer.

Haroun couldn't help but grin at the boy. "Your Mama's a smart woman." he said. "I've got juice here if you would like some. You like apple, right?" he said, handing him a cookie as well. "White or black this time? Your choice."

"Miles will switch from the last time," was the very decided reply, the little boy pulling the already prepared chair a bit closer before claiming his seat, gravely reaching for his color of choice. Starting to set out the pieces, he eyed the cookies seriously than gave Haroun a small smile. "Mama also said no cookies until after the game, this time."

Haroun laughed at that, setting up his black pieces on the board. "There comes a time in every man's life when he has to disregard the wishes of his Momma." he said with a patient smile. "That time is now." he said, re-extending the cookie out to Miles. "They're very good. Miss Rahne made them, and she's a deft hand with baking."

A grin greeted that comment, infused with all the wryness a boy Miles' age could manage. "Mama also reminded Miles that too much sugar made Miles too buzzbrained!" The last word was delivered with a great deal of glee, Miles lingering on the z's and the rolling the r cheerfully. "Miles will have half a cookie now," he finally decided, accepting it with the requisite thank you and snapping it in half carefully. "Does Haroun want the other half?"

Half a cookie wouldn't kill him. Much. "Sure." he said, taking the half-cookie from the boy and biting into it. It really was quite a tasty cookie. "Buzzbrained?" he said with a laugh. "Interesting phrase. You're a boy, boys should go run around in circles making airplane noises until they get sick and throw up."

"But Miles does not like throwing up at all," was the horribly practical reply, the boy then grinning merrily. Food had been shared, apple juice was at hand and it was time to play chess. "Chess!"

"Nobody really does. Point is, we don't expect you to be rational and sober all the time. That time will come in a few years yet. Enjoy your childhood while you have it." he said softly, and then made the first move. "Juice?" he asked, pouring himself a tall glass of the apple, and then lifting an eyebrow at Miles.

There was a brief pause, where Miles stared blankly at Haroun for a moment, as though not quite sure that he'd heard right. He grinned then, suddenly, and nodded at the offer of a drink, oblingingly nudging his glass closer while still eyeing Haroun with eyes brimming with curiosity.

Something had, indeed, changed.