Healing Hands of Time

The argument in the background flared to dangerous levels.

"OH YEAH? Well at least I'm not afraid of spiders!"

"Why don't we just stick you up on the roof, then, huh?"

"Shhh...shh...you're being too loud, you brute."

It fell hushed again, their voices low.

Alex nodded. "I guess I'm just lucky, then?"

"In some ways," Thatch agreed.

Door smiled.

Alex grinned, then changed the subject. "Anything I can do to help? Other than mop of the twin puddles when they get through?"

"Um..." Thatch glanced around. "We couuld use some bread. Sliced, if you can manage it without decapitating yourself."

The arguing fell completely silent.

Alex nodded, finding a knife and a loaf and setting to work.

Door put her ear to the... door (never gets old), listening anxiously. "Did they kill each other?"

Alex blinked, "One way to find out..."

"No dibs," Door said automatically. "You can check."

Alex sighed, opened the door, then closed it again.

"Say, do the uhm...do the twins practice interpretive dance?"

Thatch's brow furrowed, confused. "...Uh, what?"

"Why do you ask?" Door burrowed under Alex's arm to glance out the door herself.

The two girls were signing angrily and animatedly to one another, making threatening advances, but then moving back to make way for the offensive hand gestures.

"That's why."

{{Interpret THIS!! XD}}

Door smothered her laughter, ducking back into the kitchen. "Oh, my."

"What's up?" Thatch asked from the stove.

Smiling, Door shook her head. "Aha... they're signing to one another."

"Which I assume means the argument has escalated so that they can't say what they want to convey out loud." Alex remarked, "I don't know. Tremor here is the language expert."

Said triplet glanced over from his spot near the table and grinned, nodding.

"Care to translate for us?" Door asked.

He blinked, shaking his head slowly.

"I don't think you want to know, knowing those two," Thatch commented.

Alex nodded. "Spitfires, aren't they?"

"If that's the word you want to use," Thatch grinned.

Alex nodded. "I don't know them very well, but you three seem awful calm about them...they won't get violent, will they?"

He retrieved some plates.

"I doubt it. And if they do... Well, they won't," Thatch finished, grinning.

Alex laughed, getting some silverware. "I'll take your word for it."

With a grin, Door found some plates and set the table. "Are they always like this, I wonder? I mean, when we aren't interrupting their normal lives?"

Alex shrugged. "Now that I think about it, I don't know terribly too much about them."

"Which is why you're here," Door said, nodding to herself. "To get to know more. You don't know anything about us, either, for that matter... Unless Thatch recited our family history on the walk home?

Alex shook his head, "No, now that I think about it..." he said slowly. "All I know about you is what I've seen for myself, really."

"We'll discuss while we eat, then," Thatch cut in, taking the potatoes off the stove. "Does anyone want to break up the terrible two?"

Alex blinked at the silent. "Don't all jump up at once, now." he said, peering in at the twins.

But they were silent now, silent and still, sitting beside one another on the couch and a tension between them.

He grinned. "They won't be like that for long, whatever their quarrel was about."