tramitem_comm | Texts sent to Ben Kenobi

He returned the kiss without more than the slightest amount of caution, and that slight amount was probably the appropriate amount to keep it quick and keep an ear open for Elizabeth.

"I think so, too, and I think going out to do something is a stroke of genius." Bail was smart. Really smart. One of many things Ben loved about him.

"Hmm," Bail said, appraising Ben. "What comforts you more? That this isn't my first rodeo or that as a therapist that does work with families, I generally know good ideas for these sorts of situations?"

He stops for a moment and considers that, but without any real discomfort and his smile stays in place. "That it isn't your first rodeo, I think, but you could just let me stick with appreciating that you're smart."

"I wanted to make sure the I'd earned the compliment," Bail said.

But he didn't have a chance to say anything more because Elizabeth came racing down the stairs with the exuberance typical of a child her age. Coat and hat already on, backpack over her shoulder, and curiously, a simple notebook in her other hand.

"Okay, I'm ready." She looked between the two adults, but mostly at her dad.

Bail moved to the entryway closet and pulled out his own jacket.

"Okay," he said to his daughter, nodding towards the way through the house to the back where the car was parked. Elizabeth skipped ahead of them.

Then Bail nodded for Ben to head in the same direction.

He startles a little at the sound of Elizabeth on the stairs, then takes a deep breath and steadies.

He tilts his head slightly at the look, but mostly shuts up and heads out behind her to move through the house and to the car. "Do we have a plan beyond fun and working on your jump?" he asked, at some point.

Only so much silence he could stand without getting tense again.

That was good, because after they pulled out of the driveway, Elizabeth opened her mouth and made the non-silence tense.

"I have a few questions I want to ask you, Ben."

Had she timed it so they were all trapped in the car before she dropped that bomb? Or was it spur of the moment?

Bail's eyes flicked worriedly to the image of his daughter in the rearview mirror and then to Ben, a clear indication that he hadn't seen this coming.

"Uh..." he said, searching for a way to make this not spoil the day. "Only if Ben is comfortable answering questions-" he glanced at Ben. "You can say no."

He gave Bail a mildly alarmed, wide-eyed look but recovered quickly enough and pivoted some to be able to glance at Elizabeth.

"Hit me, but you only get twenty."

"I only need twenty," should have been the first indication this might be a tough interrogation.

"Did you like going to the Olympics?"

Bail had been bracing for something much more brutal. He glanced at Ben, hoping this was okay.

He was prepared for something a lot more brutal, too. This one was almost easy.

"I liked going a lot. It was stressful, but I had a lot of fun and met a lot of really interesting people."

She pulled a pen out of her bag and jotted something down in her notebook, but she propped up her knee so what it was couldn't easily be seen. This had Bail furrowing his brow a bit, but he was trying to be a safe driver focused on the road.

"Why did you quit competing?"

Her taking notes was disconcerting but it seemed so much like Bail - though Bail don't you dare start taking notes of conversations - it was a little bit endearing all the same.

"Because my back and knees couldn't take the rigorous training at that level anymore, and I wanted to quit while I could still skate at all."

Bail was gauging how Ben was taking this, how Elizabeth was taking this. This was more nerve-wracking than he'd anticipated. He'd failed to take into account that Elizabeth as a pre-teen was starting to exercise more independence and higher thinking skills. She couldn't just be given candy and a fun activity and be content anymore.

Elizabeth made more notes.

"What do you do now?"

He reached over and patted Bail's shoulder reassuringly, but didn't hesitate to answer. "I teach little kids to skate and coach some teenage competitors."

Elizabeth stared thoughtfully down at the notebook, considering something before she asked her next question. The way her eyebrows knit together was very reminiscent of the way Bail's did.

"What else do you do?"

She was wonderful and this was not nearly as bad as he'd been afraid of. He didn't know why, but he wasn't coming out of his skin -- yet.

"You mean for fun or with my time instead of for money?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said promptly, with a nod. "For fun."

"I skate." There's a bit of a dry tone there, because he knows, he knows. "I like dancing and swimming and volleyball. I like trying every food cart I come across, especially the ones that serve hotdogs. I read a lot and I really, really like spreadsheets and organizing things."

Look, he wasn't promising to be exciting or interesting.

Elizabeth jotted some more things down. And then she was clearly counting. Probably to make sure she hadn't used up her twenty questions.

And then she dropped her next question.

"What do you think you bring to the relationship?"

Bail's eyes went wide.

Edited 2021-01-13 04:33 (UTC)

Ben briefly developed a frozen in place, wide-eyed, thousand yard stare. It took him a second to shake out of it.

"Organization skills, work life balance, a fluffy white cat, and a love of street food." A pause. "I'm also pretty."

Bail's head snapped back to look at his daughter, but then he faced front again because he was driving. And a beat too late he tried to tell Ben, "You don't have to answer-"

But Ben answered and Bail had to fight to not laugh at Ben's cheekiness (and for that matter, his own daughter's.)

"Okay," he said. "How about it's Ben's turn to ask questions."

"Hm." He pivoted a little to study Elizabeth again. "How many questions did you get up to?" Gotta keep things fair.

Also has to figure out some questions that aren't insultingly easy but won't really put her on the spot.

Bail had not been keeping track of the number of questions Elizabeth had asked.

But his daughter had been taking notes. "Five," she said after a glance at her notebook.

The notes were useful and maybe he should introduce her to spreadsheets....

He nodded in response to the number. "All right." Five then. He could start off easy. "What's your favorite dinner?"

Elizabeth took a moment to think about it, but then said decisively, "Chicken tacos, the way my dad makes them."

He nodded seriously. "If you had to redecorate your room tomorrow, and it couldn't be the same as right now, what color would you make it?"

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