[a hesitant answering smile hovers on Bel's face. has started to appreciate, over the past month, how rare it is for Greg to laugh -- oh, more, please, don't be afraid, you don't have to hide all that behind your hand.... at least perhaps it's broken some of the tension for him. and good, he's staying on the drunk-dial list. they'll just have to pick a better topic next time.~]
I... had an idea it might be like that. Hoped we'd given you some entertaining reading over the years.~ But... [quietly, all irony gone] We have to size one another up quickly, in fleet life. You meet people one day, you come back without them the next, or they without you.... Sometimes a first chance is all we get.
[that's why it's so unforgivable, what happened on Jackson's Whole. the miracle was that Nicol hadn't forgiven Bel for it; she hadn't needed to. somehow, though that day had nearly cost her everything and they'd only just met, she'd seen more in Bel than that mistake.
rocks forward with blanket-hidden elbows resting on knees and looks up at the man's face, a little closer to him this way instead of slumping against the wall. so don't sell yourself short, Greg. did you think explaining that you'd been young and stupid once, that you'd almost been badly wrong about good people, would change Bel's opinion of you? no such luck. doesn't know Barrayar well enough to swear anything to it, but has had more than enough time now to size you up.~
as for what the near miss might have cost... that's what aggressively not thinking about might-have-beens is for. what-has-been is quite enough.
has never known what any of them did to deserve Miles, much less themself. the hollowed eyes gleam at Greg's words, the lean face softening; he's all of that, yes, damned infectious, has been from day one, hectic and driven and impossibly caring. he's on the line for all of them, every moment of every day; impossible not to love him back, not to reflect one's best self back at him. how could Barrayar bear to damp that light? I am high because you have raised me up.... they'd all laughed then, taken it as figurative, for it had surely been the other way around. can they thank you now, for letting him come back to them again?
but Greg, finally alight again with that inexplicable warmth, gently adjusts the plural you to singular, and Bel's pinned there for a moment, caught once again in the wake of that other thing no one's ever talked about in that tone, one they would have though impossible coming from Barrayar.
of course he knows that too.
it was never a secret.]
Their loss.... [an injustice, a tragedy. how could so many be so blind?] Not quite since we first ran into each other; it took me... oh, at least a few days. [a slow breath, a slight catch, the low alto sincere though tight with irony. if that plays into the oversexed-Betan stereotype, for once Bel doesn't care. they're not the only one who loves him, either, the trouble with galactics is they don't know how to share--]
I know... if we do right by him out there, there'll be a day when he never comes back. It's been worth all this -- [a shrug, blanket slipping off the yellow fabric covering one shoulder, the gesture encompassing the entire ship--] not to... never know what happened. And it means a great deal to know he's going home to someone who knows him.
[and not in the same way, maybe, but to someone who loves him too.]
oops I words<3
and good, he's staying on the drunk-dial list. they'll just have to pick a better topic next time.~]I... had an idea it might be like that. Hoped we'd given you some entertaining reading over the years.~ But... [quietly, all irony gone] We have to size one another up quickly, in fleet life. You meet people one day, you come back without them the next, or they without you.... Sometimes a first chance is all we get.
[that's why it's so unforgivable, what happened on Jackson's Whole. the miracle was that Nicol hadn't forgiven Bel for it; she hadn't needed to. somehow, though that day had nearly cost her everything and they'd only just met, she'd seen more in Bel than that mistake.
rocks forward with blanket-hidden elbows resting on knees and looks up at the man's face, a little closer to him this way instead of slumping against the wall. so don't sell yourself short, Greg. did you think explaining that you'd been young and stupid once, that you'd almost been badly wrong about good people, would change Bel's opinion of you? no such luck. doesn't know Barrayar well enough to swear anything to it, but has had more than enough time now to size you up.~
as for what the near miss might have cost... that's what aggressively not thinking about might-have-beens is for. what-has-been is quite enough.
has never known what any of them did to deserve Miles, much less themself. the hollowed eyes gleam at Greg's words, the lean face softening; he's all of that, yes, damned infectious, has been from day one, hectic and driven and impossibly caring. he's on the line for all of them, every moment of every day; impossible not to love him back, not to reflect one's best self back at him. how could Barrayar bear to damp that light? I am high because you have raised me up.... they'd all laughed then, taken it as figurative, for it had surely been the other way around. can they thank you now, for letting him come back to them again?
but Greg, finally alight again with that inexplicable warmth, gently adjusts the plural you to singular, and Bel's pinned there for a moment, caught once again in the wake of that other thing no one's ever talked about in that tone, one they would have though impossible coming from Barrayar.
of course he knows that too.
it was never a secret.]
Their loss.... [an injustice, a tragedy. how could so many be so blind?] Not quite since we first ran into each other; it took me... oh, at least a few days. [a slow breath, a slight catch, the low alto sincere though tight with irony. if that plays into the oversexed-Betan stereotype, for once Bel doesn't care. they're not the only one who loves him, either, the trouble with galactics is they don't know how to share--]
I know... if we do right by him out there, there'll be a day when he never comes back. It's been worth all this -- [a shrug, blanket slipping off the yellow fabric covering one shoulder, the gesture encompassing the entire ship--] not to... never know what happened. And it means a great deal to know he's going home to someone who knows him.
[and not in the same way, maybe, but to someone who loves him too.]