lets_see_what_happens | Answering Machine

[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.]

If it makes you feel any better, Miles' father fell in love with his mother the day he met her while she was being sick into a bush from concussion-induced nausea, so I think it might be genetic.

[Gregor goes still at that last, looking down at his hands and frowning very slightly.]

I confess I have... contemplated the issue of Miles' retirement from the Dendarii on more than one occasion, in an attempt to concoct a solution that does not first, bring him back home to us in a box, or second, completely break his heart. I continue to come up blank. [His eyes drag up to fix on Bel again, sad and abstracted and thoughtful.]

We need him too, Bel. Some of the reasons we need him are exactly the same as yours and some are different, and I am not entirely sure how his tenure as an ImpSec covert ops agent will end, but I sympathize with you immensely.

And I'm glad. That you know. About Miles and about me, about all of it, now. We don't know him in quite the same way you do, but I'm glad he has us both.

...Oh my God. [drags a hand over their face, bending inward in a gigglefit] Nice to know he comes by it so honestly. [from your side too, even! c: remembers to take another drink of water, finally feeling more like they're in a hangover-recovery session rather than a psychiatric trial.] You know, his mother made quite a splash leaving Beta for Barrayar, for all they tried to sweep it under the rug later on. There are so many Naismiths in the Survey, it could easily have been a coincidence, but I admit to have had a feeling about it. She left only a few years before I did.

[it worries the Inner Circle too, Bel's seen how their faces fall, sometimes, when he isn't looking, watching him at full speed and fearing the inevitable wall. he'd nearly bled to death internally the first time they'd known him, and so many other times, of course the fleet at large thinks him indestructible, but there are so many ways for that small fiery frame to break....

has an idea what might do it, though. it's what Miles has been waiting for all along -- finding the right Lady Vorkosigan would make his return an advance, a conquering storm, instead of a bitter, unchosen retreat. but who could love Miles and Barrayar at the same time? they've seen that too, too often, in the eyes of those close to him. but there's definitely no way to talk about that.]

He might surprise us both. He's... incredible, that way. [looking down at their hands, remembering the heat of Miles's cheek leaning into their palm for the first time, just for a moment -- wondering again if those last few moments had just been a dream.] I know he'll never stop surprising me. [beat, small smile] Starting to think you won't, either.

Yes, I heard a bit about it. Ever since I caught the live vidcast of her booting Steady Freddy right in the nuts I've been grateful I haven't received the same treatment as a head of state. God knows I've deserved it more than once.

[Gregor watches Bel for a moment before an odd little smile spreads over his face.]

Indeed, he is. [He hesitates, just a bit.] Ah--good surprises, I hope?

[snickering, nostalgic grin] Oh, yes. It was all over the vids for months. And again when she left. And again when he started making noises about another run for president. I heard there was something of a political cleanup after that. [very dry smirk. not going to touch the notion of that last mental image with a ten-foot pole, but it's a little dizzying that Greg must know the notorious Captain Naismith so much better than that oft-repeated clip.

smile softens] Oh, yes. Very good.

I should ask... speaking of capital offenses. What would I get if I patted the head of state on the hand and thanked him for coming to see me today?

[Gregor's eyes light, almost teasing for a moment before his hand flashes out to catch one of Bel's, closing around their fingers.]

That would hardly be considered a capital offense. And anyway, as Our word is law, We officially decree that anyone so bold would receive a sincere assurance that it was no trouble at all and said head of state was very glad to. [He draws Bel's hand up and manages a sitting half-bow over it, his eyes bright over their knuckles as he brushes his lips against them in an exceedingly courtly gesture, warm and dry.] Do you find Our punishment entirely suitable?

[ENTIRELY UNFAIR, YOU VOR ARE THE MISCHIEF, SRSLY.<3 a quick breath of delight; the swift movement is answered by Betan reflexes rather than military ones, hand curling happily into his, right at home wherever he wishes to take it.

and that is a very acceptable destination indeed.

still pasty and drawn from the previous evening, curled up around the water bottle in their lap -- nothing of the demure upper-class here -- but inclining toward him, tired eyes aglow with definite teasing.

sly murmur] A capital punishment indeed! [he'll catch the pun, surely.~ cradles the hand in both their own, not in the Barrayaran way but holding it gently from either side. has anyone ever told you you have beautiful hands, Gregor? because people should.] Not quite enough to make me rethink my politics, but I don't think I've ever been faced with a better argument. You do have to wield this power carefully.

[clearly not averse at all to basking in it, should he choose to bestow it.~]

Thank you for coming over, Greg. I'm glad you did.

[Gregor laughs, the sound soft in his throat, and he doesn't take his hand back immediately.]

In my experience, when Betans come into hard contact with Barrayaran politics, it's usually Barrayaran politics that come out worse for wear. I do not, perhaps, have the best control sample for this, however. [He tilts his head in half a nod.]

I'm... glad also, Bel. I feel like I should be thanking you.

[what a good laugh.<3 may he never lack for reason to sound like that....]

Now there's the seasoned diplomat talking. [runs a thumb over his knuckles, savoring the moment before letting him go -- alas, someone has to be the grownup around here. keep it professional, Thorne. as professional as a blear-eyed, mop-headed, hung-over merc can get, bundled in blankets and sharing a bunk (albeit above the covers instead of underneath) with someone so kind, sensitive, beautiful....] Oh... I would love to hear some of those stories.

[wets lips, taking another drink to settle their own jumping pulse, with a small gesture to suggest that Greg consider the bottle he's still holding his own. an emotional struggle can take a lot out of one; he should probably rehydrate too. how often does he have the luxury of unburdening himself? how often does he allow himself to take it?]

Then I hope you'll come again. If you ever miss the Betan perspective, or.... if there's anything you want someone to hear. [an impish half-smile. it's impulsive, maybe unwise, with so many potential conflicts of interest and security already stretched far beyond the dictates of prudence or official necessity, but unofficial necessity has its place too; the Dendarii have been that demonstration, over and over.] Miles can confirm I'm a good listener.

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