It made no sense to them, not to give her the Christmas gift after going to the trouble of knitting it.Â
...even if she didn't want to see them anymore. It was going to be cold soon, and they wouldn't forgive themselves for unraveling the work they had put into her present.Â
Would it count as 'not seeing them anymore' if she didn't see them? They always could just duck into the Joint, drop the rather awkwardly shaped bundle of bright wrapping paper off into safe hands, offered Hand Five, and of course get the hell out of there before she knew they were there. It was Christmas Eve after-all... busy.
But she would know it was from them, countered Three, she could be upset. She could hate the present. She could hate them even more for not staying away.
They still went, slowly, voices bickering, voting for or against, finding harmony only to fall into disarray once more with each mounting doubt until all were quiet, afraid, as Handerson cautiously made his way into the bar, Hand One carefully hung low, fingers shuttered over their optic. Putting himself up on his hind legs and sliding the package across the bar to Miss T, who looked at him in confusion, looking as though ready to call for Elijah before he's gesturing in a panic, signing that No. No do not tell Elijah they were there. No.Â
And they're back on their four hands and out the door before she could say otherwise, present delivered, duty done.
Elijah could be upset, tear apart the violet and white scarf, throw away the gloves, dislike them because he had made them.Â
They probably deserved it.Â
But they would hope that she wouldn't.Â
Tonic tapped her fingers along the wooden counter-top in agitation, looking at the present Handerson had left.
Romantic advice was so much easier to give when she could stay at a distance.
