Jonathan Strange

"Now," Shin'nen said, "why can't you be like this fellow?" She fingered the pages of the book spread on her desk; they rustled in a manner that particularily irritated the wizard at the other desk. "Jonathon Strange. Bottling madness and turning books into ravens and all that."

Asque huffed briefly, insistently intent on the stack of papers upon his desk. "Would you prefer that I go mad, then?"

"Sure." She shrugged, half-laughed through her nose. "If it'd make you more interesting."

He turned his gaze toward her in a long-suffering look, detest marring every speck of his face as though she aught to be quite appreciative that he was taking time from his work to glare at her. "And," he continued, returning his attention to his desk, "you'd prefer to reside in a pillar of continual darkness."

Shin'nen considered. "Well, maybe not that so much--and I suppose you would decide to put off removing it, too--but I'd like to think I'm not so bad that I can't figure out a way around that, anyway."

Asque grunted noncommitally, and Shin'nen caught a barely-visible rolling of his eyes. She countered it with one of her own, returning to her reading of the final chapter--then stopped abruptly. "Wait. Wait a minute. You've actually read this book, haven't you!"

His gaze flitted toward her, expression irked. "If you insist on continually distracting me from my work, I'm sure I can arrange some for you such as to keep you busy."

"You have! Oh my God, you totally have!" Curls bounced as she stood in abrupt amazement. "Oh! Oh! Did you like it? What did you think of it? Really, this is really important!"

"Shin'nen. You will kindly desist."

She was grinning broadly, dancing about the room in a combination triumph-dance and post-book adrenaline rush. "Asque reads novels! I win! Eeee!"