"Or what, though?" Birdie couldn't help but ask, noting that Cressida didn't finish her thought. She didn't understand why Cress was so certain Jaime hadn't come back. "I reckon a body could always change his mind and come back," she ventured cautiously, aware she was stepping blind into deep waters that hid swift currents. She allowed that something she didn't know about could have - and likely had - happened that she wasn't aware of, but further poking at the complicated knot of emotions she could see passing over Cressida's face was forestalled when the copy of her Oracle patient melted and shimmered into a copy of Jaime - and then the two of them went at it like barn cats over the same rat.
Her fingers twitched, sparked with a quick surge of power she readied in instinctive response to the violent explosion between the two, but she wasn't really a fighter. She had some defensive tricks, had a few spells that would work against people she really wanted to hurt, but the bulk of what she knew were those long, slow hexes and curses designed to make someone's life a living hell and really drag the punishment out - none of which was really going to be helpful here. She knew how to throw up a shield, too, but neither would that help with Jaime 1's hands hooked around Jaime 2's throat. She wasn't really the hero type, either, except that the rule was not to hurt other employees - and the way the shapeshifter had looked at her was hard to ignore.
"I'm sorry," she said to Cressida, genuinely apologetic, "but I oughta figger this out afore one of them ends up on my table anyway. Do you want to sit a spell around the corner and we can keep talkin' after? Or I can meet you back home?" There was no indication that Birdie found the spectacle funny or entertaining in any way; if anything, she was annoyed that she felt this obligation when Cress, who actually needed her help, was still suffering.
"If'n either of y'all actually work here," she called out as she stepped closer, careful to stay out of range - she'd tried to break up a school fight once and gotten a real pretty shiner for it, and that had been her lesson on stepping between two boys determined to slug it out, "you'll remember the rule is you ain't hurt coworkers. Now I ain't much for carin' if one of y'all is or isn't the real Jaime, but I know if you make more work for me, I'm fixin' to brew up the nastiest remedies for y'all's ailments and then cause some of my own." She did no harm by choice, not by vow, and she'd make a body's life miserable if sufficiently roused to it.
It was a weak admonishment at best; Birdie was under no impressions that she could hold a candle to the violence between the two, not physically and probably not magically if they were both Fae. But she did what she could with what she had, and what she had was a bit of polished smooth quartz the size of a quail egg, hanging on a long chain around her neck, that she kept charged with energy in case she had to work fast. She drew upon it now, directing that energy between the two combatants in a big wedge of thickened air and invisible force, hoping to draw them apart.
"Quit yer foolin' now," she snapped, blue eyes alight with annoyance, one waving hand indicating Cressida's retreating form. "Ain't nothing good come of hurtin' a body ain't done nothing to you."