Chapter Text
Geralt swears he only looked away from Jaskier for a moment, but somehow he’s already lost his bard; and they’ve been in the town marketplace for less than 10 minutes. This is why, he always tells Jaskier, he prefers to do the shopping alone. “Jask, if you get us into any trouble…” he grumbles under his breath. He can’t even catch a single whiff of Jaskier’s incredibly unique perfume (he has it crafted specifically for himself; some Bogus about his body’s natural chemical reactions. It is supposed to smell better on him than it will on anyone else… Geralt doesn’t Necessarily disagree. Much.) Huffing in exasperation, Geralt turns back to his shopping list, and skims it for the next-nearest stall. And yes, the list is Important (how else is he going to keep Jaskier from sneaking purchases they don’t need; if it’s Not on The List they don’t need it).
As he scans the surrounding hubbub for his wayward bard, he makes momentary eye-contact with a little tot. She can’t be more than a summer or two old, still young enough to be riding on her mother’s back in a sling. The second she realizes Geralt has noticed her, she grins and waves at him, dropping her soft rag doll to the ground as she does. Instantly her face transforms, making the same watery-eyed-wobbly-lipped face Jaskier makes before he tosses a fit. Eager to keep her from wailing, and to protect his poor ears from the onslaught, Geralt swoops in to retrieve the dolly. The babe accepts her toy with a gummy grin, and promptly drops it once more. Again, Geralt scoops the toy up and moves to hand it back to her. This time, her mother moves on before he can reach them. So, naturally, he follows after them.
Delighted, the tot tosses her toy away from herself, secure in the knowledge that her newest friend will bring it back for her. Which he does. Over and over and over again. Silently, he follows them around the marketplace retrieving her dolly each time she throws it down.
This is the Greatest Game! Such Fun she is having! A new Friend to Play with her!
The next time the babe drops her doll, Geralt retrieves it, then rumbles and sneezes playfully at her when he hands it back; the same way he does when he and Jaskier play-wrestle for the last bite of food or the right to be Big Spoon when sharing a bed (or bed roll, on those cooler nights). She takes the doll with a bright giggle and another grin, squirming happily. This squirm-about is what eventually draws her mother’s attention.
She whirls around to face the Witcher with wide (nearly frightened) eyes. Geralt sheepishly ducks his head, glancing up at her, waiting to be reprimanded. Her eyesight flicks momentarily over his shoulder, then she meets his eyes again. He watches, almost fascinated, as she forces herself to relax. Then, she smiles at him, a tad awkwardly. “Hello, Sir Witcher. My name is Corinne. And this little lady is Karína.”
“Hello. Geralt.” He manages to say in reply. Social interaction has never been his strong suit. The next smile Corinne gifts him is much kinder, and more sincere.
“Thank you, Geralt, for keeping Karína occupied while I shop.” A light pink flush steals across her cheeks when Geralt allows himself a smile back at her. Not a moment later, Jaskier is crashing into his side with an exuberant greeting.
“Why hello, there!” The bard sweeps into a playful bow. “Geralt, who is your new friend?”
“This is Corinne. And Karína… and her dolly.” He can see Jaskier’s proud grin from the corner of his eye, and nearly glares at him. The only thing stopping him is his fear of scaring the baby, still staring closely at him. The second his eyes are back on Karína, she shrieks excitedly and throws her dolly to the ground, trying to start her new favorite game all over again. Geralt stoops down and retrieves the soft rag doll one last time, handing it over with another playful rumble. Karína gifts him with yet another bright laugh and a gummy, toothless grin. Geralt can’t fight down his smile in return, a small ball of golden warmth curling around his heart.
Fearlessly, Karína reaches out and pats his sun-roughed face. “Good Puppy,” she tells him, very seriously. Corinne nearly stuffs her fist in her mouth, trying to disguise her laughter. Jaskier makes no polite moves to hide his delight.
“No.” Geralt growls at the bard. He Knows what Jaksier wants. He can tell, just in the way he’s practically vibrating in excitement. “Jaskier. No.”
Unfortunately, the bard is already dancing and ducking away from his reach, humming melodies and mumbling lyrics. Geralt is left with nothing to do but chase his bard along, making (purposely missed) lunges for him as they go. After all, it’s no fun if he catches his friend too soon.
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Jaskier has lost his Witcher. Again. He is only Three More Incidents away from buying a Lead to tie to the back of his armor. Oh sure, Geralt will claim it’s his fault, as always, but Jaskier knows The Truth. And the Truth of the matter is this; his Witcher has probably gone off to hide in some quiet, shadowy corner. So now, Jaskier has to track down the poor oaf, And finish the shopping while he’s at it. And no, he doesn’t need Geralt’s Stupid List to do it. He shops with his Heart, his Heart will know what they need.
Purely by chance, Jaskier spies a shock of White hair atop a well-muscled figure, and grins to himself. Time to play his All Time Favorite Game; How Close Can He Get Before Geralt Notices. As he sneaks his way over, he freezes as Geralt, usually Incredibly Antisocial, picks up a little doll and hands it back to the girl that dropped it. Quickly, he dashes behind the nearest stall before his subsonic squeak of unadulterated joy can catch the Witcher’s attention. Incandescent with excitement, he follows from a safe distance, watching as Geralt plays Fetch with this darling little baby.
He nearly flinches when the mother spins around to catch Geralt in the act of returning the doll. Acting on instinct he frantically waves to get her attention. If she has a bad reaction, this could set back Geralt’s slow foray into social interaction by months if not Years. He flashes her his Absolute Best Pleading Face, and sighs, nearly sagging in relief when she Smiles at the giant man instead.
He hurries over to join the conversation, arriving just in time to watch the newly introduced Karína pat Geralt’s face. Jaksier can physically feel his heart melting at the scene.
This Has to be his next work of art! It simply Must be shared with the whole Continent!
Moving on instinct he ducks around Geralt’s reaching arms to scamper back to their room. He needs his Notebook! And ink! So many Ideas!
He is not unaware of Geralt following behind him. He is also well aware of the fact that if Geralt Really Wanted to catch him, he’d already be caught. No matter, that’s what makes it Fun.