doesntsing | open post

It's a very innocent question, but Jaskier and Ciri end up laughing anyway. Geralt rolls his eyes at them before opening a cupboard to proudly show Midge his collection of herbs. The glass jars don't have lids; they're covered by a piece of fabric that is tied with string. The homemade labels were clearly written by Jaskier's fine penmanship because he hates Geralt's handwriting.

"Told you it was only half the garden," Jaskier teases, but he's proud of Geralt and his little hobby too.

“Oh, lovely,” Midge says with a grin. So quaint. She easily finds rosemary and thyme and starts to measure some of them out. “Amazing that you grew all this in that little plot of land.” Midge looks at the jars. “This is your handwriting,” she says to Jaskier. “I’d recognize it anywhere.”

It occurs to her that she’d love to get a handwritten love note from Jaskier someday. Maybe she’ll leave him one and get the ball rolling.

She stirs the vegetables around the meat. “Casserole dish with lid?” she asks hopefully.

"Herbs don't require much space," Geralt explains. He still doesn't know what to do with compliments, but they do feel nice. "You can even grow some of them in jars."

Jaskier grins when Midge recognizes his handwriting, feeling all warm and fuzzy by such a silly but loving thing. "Of course. Someone had to make things legible in this house. Did you know that when you depend on your nose to find things, your handwriting becomes absolute crap?"

Geralt playfully slaps Jaskier's arm and the bard sticks his tongue out at him, so it's up to Ciri to bring the casserole dish out.

“Now, now children,” Midge says in a faux scolding tone. “Play nice.”

After Ciri hands her the dish, Midge spears the meat with two forks and transfers it to the dish. She then carefully spoons out the vegetables and puts them around the meat and pours the liquid on top. With the lid on the dish, it goes into the oven.

“And there you have it. Now — “ Midge turns to Geralt. “You have the very important job of checking on it every 40 minutes or so. Stir the vegetables and if it looks too dry, add some water to it. Got that?”

Ciri laughs at Midge's faux scolding and Jaskier pouts - he's being mistreated here, this is a scandal! Geralt just hums as usual, not liking being scolded but not willing to argue about it either. He does pay very close attention to Midge's instructions, nodding along to every word. He looks very focused.

"You've given him a mission," Yennefer's voice echoes in the kitchen as she comes in to partake in some wine. Midge's suitcase has been left by the door, and it's still glowing a tiny bit. "I was told today we could relax."

"I still can relax," Geralt answers with a frown. Jaskier and Cirilla laugh while Yennefer snorts, shaking her head.

Is the joke that Geralt never relaxes? Midge doesn’t know him well enough yet, so she just smiles for now. “If one of you checks on in a few times today, it should be fine. Hopefully it won’t disturb your peace too much.” Midge winks.

She turns to Jaskier and Ciri. “Ready to go?”

"Peace?" Jaskier asks. "Is that what we're calling it now?" Ciri says gross as both Yennefer and Geralt slap him on the arm. Ah, family.

Jaskier nods at Midge's question and gets his blue trenchcoat, which he already left in the living room. Ciri runs upstairs to get hers while Jaskier checks all his pockets for his wallet, phone, and notebook.

"You know this city the best. Cab? Subway? Walking?"

“It might not be that peaceful,” Midge concedes. Much like the state Jaskier’s room will be in that evening.

After redressing to go out in her coat, hat and gloves, Midge picks up her purse and the three of them walk outside. They look dapper, ready for a day out.

“Let’s take a cab. It’s a bit far to walk from here.”

At the curb, Midge raises her hand, trying to hail a taxi.

"Am I not the one supposed to do that?" he teases. "You're making me look like a bad gentleman."

Jaskier decides to let Midge sit in the middle when they take over the back seat. Usually, that's a spot for the smallest person, but he can tell Ciri is eager to chat, and he doesn't want to let go of his new girlfriend. So he keeps an arm around Midge's shoulders and lets his favorite girls sit together. Ciri showers Midge with questions about her clothes and makeup, the classic teenager that wishes to be as pretty and grownup as the women in the magazines. It's very cute and Jaskier smiles the whole ride, but part of him still worries about Ciri struggling with her identity.

Soon they arrive at the museum, and Jaskier lets Midge takes his arm while Ciri walks ahead of them. He realizes what they look like and hopes that Midge's age stops anyone from thinking that Ciri's their daughter.

"Do you promise this is a good place and I am not about to see a bunch of paint stains on canvas?"

“Just showcasing the unconventional nature of our relationship,” she replies with a smile. “Besides, they’re more likely to stop for a beautiful woman.”

Midge is happy to sit in the middle so that she and Ciri can talk, especially because she still gets to hold Jaskier’s hand. Makeup and fashion are two of Midge’s favorite topics, and it’s nice to get to talk about them. She promises Ciri that she’ll take her to the makeup counter at B Altman one day. All teenagers struggle with their identities. They have to explore different things in order to figure things out.

People might think that Ciri is one of their younger sisters. It depends on how complimentary the person wishes to be.

“I promise,” Midge says. “Most of that stuff is at MOMA.”

They stop inside to pick up a map. “Do you want to see paintings from the time on Earth that corresponds most to the place you two came from?”

The unconventional nature of our relationship makes him laugh. Oh, he loves that.

"I want to see everything!"

And he means it.

Jaskier just follows the map in order - usually, he's more of an agent of chaos, but he doesn't want to miss a single thing. He stops at every painting and every statue, always spending several seconds to admire the details and make some commentary on them. Ciri does enjoy the art itself, but thinks Jaskier stays too long at each piece.

When they reach 'their' time period, Jaskier can help but freeze and stare.

"This is... uncanny, to say the least."

This is slower than Midge would prefer to progress through the museum, but she’s trying to let Jaskier experience what he wants to experience. The ancient Egyptian works are interesting. The early European art, less so. A lot of religious scenes. She’s sure they’re not Jaskier’s favorites either.

Things start to change when they get to the Renaissance. Jaskier’s reaction makes Midge smile.

“Hmm…” she leans in to look at the dates of the paintings. “1600s. Yep. That’s about right.”

Turning a corner, Midge comes face to face with this painting and calls Jaskier and Ciri over. “See? I told you we had bards.”

Since the art isn't preaching at him, Jaskier can still appreciate the religious paintings. He knows that getting funds from the church is the only way for many artists to survive; the same happened in his world. And in many cases here, he doesn't even recognize them as religious scenes - some of them aren't as obvious if you don't know the myths.

Cirilla giggles at the painting of the bard, but Jaskier is absolutely delighted. After the initial gasp, he gets as close as possible to take in every detail.

"Oh, look at him! That grin, he looks so happy! And he's actually wearing colors, too! The lute--"

He has a lot to say about the lute. Stop him while you can.

Eh, Midge doesn’t stop him. It’s cute how excited he is. Once it seems like he’s winding down, she points at another painting across the room.

“There’s us at the gig.” Midge squints at the painting. “Really weird proportions on that. The woman seems like kind of an afterthought.”

The next one makes both Jaskier and Cirilla laugh.

"What happened to her chest?" Ciri asks, unsure if being amused or weirded out.

"She reminds me of the Duchess of Attre," Jaskier replies between chuckles. "Did you get to meet her?"

Ciri nods. "We didn't talk much. Grandmother didn't like her."

Jaskie snorts. "Your grandmother didn't like anybody." Ciri's eyes get a bit sad, but she still chuckles.

“Her tits look very uncomfortable,” Midge agrees. “Bras and girdles are bad enough. Corsets are torture.”

She turns to Ciri as they walk to the next gallery. “Sounds like my Bubbe, or grandmother. She wasn’t very nice towards the end, but I think she was in a lot of pain.”

That’s not quite the same situation as Ciri’s grandmother, but Midge is trying to sympathize.

This conversation has definitely taken a turn. Jakier wonders if he should've brought up Cirilla's childhood at all, but it's not like she minded answering his question. She comes closer and searches for his hand, so Jaskier holds it gently and gives it a comforting squeeze.

"So she got sick? And before that, she was nice?" Ciri asks Midge while staying glued to Jaskier. "Do you have good memories of her?"

Poor thing. The way she reaches for Jaskier’s hand is so sweet.

“I do,” Midge replies. “She taught me to cook some things, and she always used to tell me Russian folk tales. That’s how I got interested in Russian Literature.”

"Aww, that's really nice," Ciri says, and Jaskier nods to agree. "Geralt wants me to learn to cook, too. I'm not sure if it's my thing."

"You just want to avoid chores," Jaskier teases.

"That's not true!" Ciri pouts and pulls at Jaskier's arm, but he only laughs.

“Cooking is fun sometimes,” Midge says. “It’s nice that you have a lot of other people in your house to help with it.” Thats not the case for most housewives.

She gives Jaskier a pointed look. “Do you know how to cook?”

Jaskier raises his eyebrows at that pointed look.

"What's with all the judging?" he asks, his offence clearly exaggerated for the sake of dramatics. "I know SOME stuff! I told you about my stew and Geralt teaching me how to clean a fish and rabbits. And don't get me started on the squirrels."

Ciri groans in frustration. "Not the squirrel story again..."

“That’s right, you did tell me that, and I requested that you cook for me one day. No squirrel, please.”

They move on to Impressionism and Midge smiles.

“Aren’t these beautiful? I’m going to show you one of the most famous paintings in the world.”

Moments later, they’re standing in front of Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

"That shall be our next date, then. No squirrel, I can't even think about those little fuckers anymore." Ciri rolls her eyes, since clearly he doesn't mind thinking about them if it means sharing the fucking story.

The Impressionism section is indeed beautiful and they don't know where to put their eyes first. Luckily, Midge knows exactly what to do. Jaskier stares at the painting in pure amazement and miraculously stays silent for a few minutes, taking it in.

"...stunning," he finally says. "That starry night - you painted stars that, like you, are light years away from anyone else. Looking on the serene village scene from an insurmountable distance for you saw things, like no one before, nor since."

“So poetic.” Midge smiles. “You really do get inspired by looking at other art.”

She only recently began to think of herself as an artist, thanks to him. It remains to be seen if anything today will inspire her. Comedy seems different than the other arts.

"Fuck, you're right, I should've been--"

Jaskier pats his pockets until he finds his notebook and pulls it out to take a bunch of notes, his eyes going from the pages to the Starry Night over and over. He repeats the process with the other paintings, truly falling in love with the Impressionism section. You know he's 'in the zone' because his tongue keeps peeking out while he writes.

"What does it make you feel?" he asks Ciri.

"Like you're trying to give me homework," Ciri replies, half serious, half joking. But she does like the paintings.

Jaskier turns to Midge. "What about you, love?"

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(by John Watt)

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