InsaneJournal

"Doo doo doo," the leprechaun warbled cheerfully. Sam put forth a mighty effort to continue to ignore it, though he knew that if he was looking, the expression on the little guy's face would be far more surly than the song would suggest, almost ridiculous in the contrast. But he was not looking. He was working. With Rogue turning up, pushing the question of exactly how this all worked to the forefront of his mind and giving him renewed motivation to get something they could actually work with (and, just privately, to answer the question of whether it might be possible for someone who wasn't alive at the end there to be brought to Goodland too), he wasn't much in the mood for distractions right now. Maybe something actually fun or important, sure. It was a weekend, technically speaking. But not this. Not leprechauns trying to involve him in a Beatles singalong.

The leprechaun's voice started to rise in volume as it reached "Little darling!" again and he closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a headache coming on. Christ. It was like trying to work with a four year old around. Most people grew out of that kind of sustained focus by the time they hit double digits, but even years later he remembered how Jody could--

The thought practically cut itself off in his head as an idea struck, and he straightened up in his seat as he turned. "Hey, what's your favourite food?"

For a moment there was blissful silence as the leprechaun's expression twisted into confusion. Then, "Eh?"

"I'm not from the UK," Sam continued, "so forgive me if I have the lore wrong, but is it still the traditional milk and honey, or would you prefer something more modern?"

The leprechaun stared at him suspiciously for several seconds before slowly answering, as though he was trying to figure out if this was some kind of trick. "I like honey."

"They make this cereal that's pretty good, it's puffed wheat and honey. I can do a lot of this in the apartment, you wanna go try a bowl? I've never tried singing 'Here Comes the Sun' for four hours straight, personally, but it seems like something that would get pretty tiring and it's nearly lunchtime anyway." As he spoke he was already packing up his things, tucking computer peripherals out of the way and making sure all the data he needed was accessible from his tablet. Somehow he managed to keep up a stream of patter all the way back to 3-A, so that by the time they made it back even he was sick of talking, and he'd only been at it for a few minutes.

It was easier than he'd thought it would be to settle the leprechaun at the kitchen table with a bowl of Golden Crisp, almost as though the intervening years melted away - it was easy to imagine that the fierce-looking little creature was a small girl instead, hair meticulously braided, legs swinging where they didn't reach the ground, teaspoon gripped in one hand as she narrated some lengthy and largely incoherent trail.

As he settled back into his work the apartment was full of the quiet of people who were all engaged in their own thing, keeping each other company even if they weren't interacting. It was only after some minutes that the leprechaun started humming again. When he started singing again, the song had finally changed. "I got my drink I got my music I would share it but today I'm yelling..."

Sheer relief had him grinning, glad enough for the change to join in on the refrain under his breath. "Bitch don't kill my vibe. Bitch don't kill my vibe."