Come evening, Cressida arrives at the Polari family tent at the preapproved time. She hides in the shadows while Papa gives her sister last minute instructions. Then, after he strides off towards the big top, she darts inside to relieve Vesta of her charge. Despite it's relocation, the tent is almost exactly as she remembers it; there's Graves tucked into the bed, her vanity, and the chests with the family's clothes. Graves perks up at her presence, shifting so that he's sitting a little more upright, but Cressida quickly looks away from him to glare at her sister. "If you don't hurry, you'll be late."

The younger girl gives her a smug smile, "I'm surprised you showed up. I thought you might tattle on me."

"The thought crossed my mind." Cressida confessed, slipping out of her coat and draping it over the vanity. From the state of the drawers, her sister has been taking advantage of her cosmetics. She'll have to sneak some out before she steals all of them. "I might still do it, so you better shake a leg."

"And how." Vesta gives her a little wave as she slips through the flaps. "Have a fun time. I know I will."

The desire to send one or two nasty thoughts after the girl is overwhelming, and, for a moment, Cressida considers giving into it. However, it's not worth the effort, and Vesta will learn soon enough that she's just a pawn in whatever game Tinker is playing. While she regrets that her sister's heart will be broken yet again, maybe that will teach her not to meddle in things.

"She's and interesting girl, your sister." Graves's voice breaks the tense silence.

Cressida snorts at that and turns to face him. He looks better, though still a bit skinny. His skin has more color to it, and his wounds have healed. The only trace of them is a series of bright shiny scars maring his forearms. "Has she been impressing you with her fine wit during my absence?"

"A little. I've learned quite a bit about no-maj movie stars from those papers she enjoys." He gestures at the stack abandoned on the vanity. "She enjoys reading them out loud, regardless of if I am sleeping or not."

"Poor man." Cressida takes her sisters absent seat. "But maybe it might come in handy when you're working under cover someday."

Now it's Graves's turn to snort. "I doubt that." His words immediately turn into a cough, and he waves her off before she can summon him a glass of water. "I'm fine."

"Yes, I imagine wizards have something better to entertain themselves with than picture shows."

He doesn't respond. Instead he studies her as closely as she studied him, rubbing his fingers together as he did so. It's the first nervous twitch she's ever seen him make. "You cut your hair."

"Yes." Cressida sighs. "It was a huge mistake."

"It looks nice."

She stares at him in shock. "Really?"

"Yes." His eyes drop from the tight ringlets to her wide eyes. He clears his throat. "I... am... sorry for what I did. For what I said."

Cressida felt her cheeks burn at the reminder. "It was bound to come out sooner or later."

"The truth should have come from your parents, not me. It was not my story to tell."

"I pressed you about it, so it's just as much my fault as it is yours." She forced herself to smile. "It's fine. Really."

Graves doesn't believe her, but he changes the subject. "Have you been practicing?"

"No." He narrows his eyes at her confession, and she arches an eyebrow right back at him. "It's kinda hard to practice that thing when you're in a train car full of people."

"We could resume your training in that dream world you created."

"It's a bit too far of a reach for me." The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes she could, possibly, do it. As he said before, during sleep, her walls are lower, so it's easier to reach out and the single ladies car isn't that far from the Polari family car or the tent. However, she's not sure she wants to invite that sort of union again. Especially considering how he's haunted her dreams lately. "Besides, aren't your friends going to come get you soon?"

"Unfortunately I've not had a chance to contact them yet. Your father finally let me start taking short walks yesterday. Perhaps by the end of the week I might be able to talk him into letting me venture into town."

Cressida shook her head at that. "No. Maybe by next week, but not this week. You were in bad shape when I found you. You don't want to push yourself too hard and then have a regression."

"With the way your mother keeps pouring those potions of hers down my throat, I doubt I'll need to worry about that."

"Right, but you should still try to pretend like you're still a little sick for a little bit longer. I know being stuck in here has to be a bit chafing, but a sudden miraculous recovery will draw unwanted attention."

"I feel as if we've had this conversation before."

"Only because you lack the common sense to let your body heal properly." She shot a glare at him, then inhaled sharply as a thought occurred to her. "I could always wire someone for you."

"Are you so eager to be rid of me?"

"I'm just trying to help. I know you want to get away from all us horrible no good No-Majs."

"They aren't all bad, though their healing methods do leave something to be desired and the reading material could be a little more stimulating." Graves sinks back into the comfort of the bed, folding his hands over his belly. "I'm shocked you would offer to do such a thing considering your aversion to wizard kind."

"Maybe they aren't all bad either." If this keeps up, her cheeks might turn permanently pink from the amount of flushing she's doing. "Besides, I figure I can make myself scarce before anyone decides to apparate in and rescue you."

"Apparition is faster than you think. I appreciate the offer, but there still remains the problem of not knowing who is in control of MACUSA."

"I don't think Mama has had a chance to get a paper yet. If there's even one available out here."

"Well, until I am healthy enough to venture to Los Angeles, we can put our time together to good use and practice." He closes his eyes, and she can feel him start to drift off. The crack in his walls open, inviting her into that blank room they had trained in before.

Cressida shakes her head. "No."

He opens his eyes and blinks rapidly at the brightness of lantern light. "No?"

"Why don't we practice in the physical world instead?"

"We have no wands."

"We can use sticks instead."

"Someone might see."

"Then we'll turn off the lights and if anyone asks, we'll say you were sleeping." She stands and flips the blankets back from his legs. Thankfully he is clothed underneath, wearing a pair of Papa's hand me down pants and she breathes a sigh of relief as she tugs him to his feet. "Come on, it'll be a good start to getting back in shape."

He leans against the bed, standing on legs that are shakier than a newborn colt, his chest heaving from the sudden exertion. "Fine. Go find a stick, and we'll see if you still remember anything that I taught you."