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The lake is haunted. You know this by now, don't you?

The lake is haunted by a little boy, down by the water, fishing around in the reeds for bugs and beetles.

[ooc: given that for no apparent reason I have started typing in french instead of spanish, except that it's late, I'm thinking it's bedtime. Slowtimes abound >.>]

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STEPH. Steph is one of the GOOD people who he's thrilled and glad and delighted to see.

So there's a splash-whoosh tumble and he's on the rock next to her.

Steph tries hard to be a good people! Right now she's feeling like a bad people though. She dumped her boyfriend and he needed her, and Steph's a hero. Heroes don't put their own happiness before others. Drama drama!

But happy little ghost-boys make it better. Steph beams at him, sitting up. "Find anything good?"

Which was pretty cool. Really cool, actually.

Steph thinks bugs are gross. But she likes it when Santi thinks they're cool. "Oooh, show me?"

He shakes his head sadly.

He figured it'd be cruel to keep it.

"I think most things like being free better," Steph says encouragingly. Don't be sad, little ghost boy! You did the right thing!

So long as she doesn't mind not being able to see it.

"Of course you're good, doofus." She reaches over to ruffle his hair, super-light. "You're the best."

He wanted to know if she was alright.

"Oh! Right."

Steph gives this more consideration than the question really requires.

"...you know, I think I am, actually. I think it's gonna be fine."

She gets a hug.

A big hug. Because.

Important.

Big hugs are the best. Steph messes up his hair again and drops a kiss on the unshattered side of his forehead, because he's just the sweetest thing ever.

He's a little bit worried about her. She's irrepresable. She's Steph.

She is that. Or tries to be. Sometimes it's just tough.

Giving him a final half-squeeze, half a gentle shake, she leans back to grin at him. "Hey. It's okay. Don't look like that."

He gives her a smile in return, because if she says it's alright, he's sure it will be. She seems like the sort who would know.

She would. Or at least, she pretends to kids that she would.

"So, show me where the coolest bugs are!" she demands.

He offers her his hand, because it's clearly over in the garden.

He leads her towards the ants nest under the peony bush.

"...wow. How do you find all this stuff?" Steph will never cease to be amazed -- and melted -- by little boys' abilities to find delight in things like this.

Okay, it really is kind of cool, she has to admit, hunkering down to watch more closely. But it's still totally adorable.

And they go everywhere and climb all over your fingers!

And don't even bite. Santi lifts his hands up to show her.

" -- oh man, aren't they going to bite you?" Steph reaches a tentative finger towards them. "Don't let them hurt you!"

Ants don't.

"Really?"

Steph lets one scurry onto her hand, squeaking only a very little bit when tiny feet circumnavigate her scarred fingers.

She stares at it like it's going to explode, doing the rotating-arm-gesture of everyone uncomfortable with bugs who has one running on them.

"...it tickles!"

Santi watches her, trying not to laugh at her discomfort. Why is she scared of a little bug?

She isn't scared! She's just ... wary.

It's gross and what if it bites her! Ants totally bite. Sometimes. Maybe. Okay, Australian ants bite, lots, and ... maybe they're the only sort that live in Gotham ... because they ate all the other ones ... which would explain why Steph expected them to bite. Yeah. Yeah! Ooh, fear the logic!

... all right, shut up.

She turns her hand again and again, watching it scurry.

"It's so little."

He likes them. They can do anything.