a little place called trust

Isla definitely thinks Nate is missing out, the doctor barely containing her excitement as he agrees to her requests, sass or no sass. "That''s why I gave you a choice of number," she counters with a small smile, before he's going ahead with the multiplication table and gods, it's like a firework show inside his head. Different pathways of fibre optics light up as he engages with mental arithmetic and then switches to verbalisations, the illumination enough to cast Isla's face aglow. "That's incredible," she whispers. "I wish I could show you..." She does describe it in meticulous detail for him, though, as well as asking him for a few other things - can he remember the colour of the door of the Wren Society; is he able to think about the last time he was angry, or his wedding reception with Sunjata; can he engage some of his less strenuous upgrades, and so on. "I think I've got everything I can learn here," Isla murmurs eventually. "Is there anything else you want to know? Or want to try?" If not, she'll work on closing him up again. Isla the flesh is weak