contact part deux

[bouchonne]

if this were modern times byerly would probably make you listen to total eclipse of the heart before you were able to leave a message

Comments

[bouchonne]

If she would appreciate it - [ A sigh. ] Then yes. You know I love playing weddings.

[ Just a few weeks ago, they'd crashed one, showing up and playing a few impromptu sets, taking nothing but wine as their payment. ]

[cozen]

Mm.

[ A moment of fond reminiscence. ]

Then I think you should do it. I can't make people dance like you can, and—you know, the worst case scenario is that you will have done something kind for someone you don't get along with. The best is that you will come to an understanding later, and you won't have missed her wedding over a temporary disagreement. They are both pretty good scenarios.

[bouchonne]

[ Hey. ]

What do you mean, you can't make people dance like I can. Yes you can.

[cozen]

No I can't. A waltz, sure, but not the sort of lively things a wedding deserves once the waltzing is old. Not alone on a cello. Two reels and my arm would fall off.

Maybe with a lute.

[bouchonne]

I could get you a lute.

[cozen]

Monsieur la Poche Généreuse.

I already have one, actually.

But you are still better for it and you should still be the one to go.

[bouchonne]

Hm.

[ A beat, and then he confesses: ]

I suppose that - Well. Usually, when I am uncomfortable, or aggrieved in some way, I simply endeavor to ruin the thing that aggrieves me.

[ But he doesn't exactly have license to ruin this. ]

[cozen]

You wouldn’t, you, [ Bastien begins, before actually giving a deep and genuine damn about Byerly, unlike many other targets of his little persuasion campaigns, catches up to him.

He stops. The rest of the planned sentence comes out a nose-sigh. ]

I don’t want to push you into it if you will be miserable the whole time.

[bouchonne]

[ By can hear that sigh, and shakes his head. ]

I need a push every now and again, Bastien. I'm grateful for it.

[ But. ]

I suppose I simply don't know whether or not Miss Poppell intends to be...intolerable.

[cozen]

[ He starts tentative, but slowly warming up to being a little pushy again: ]

It's her wedding. I would hope she would be too busy to needle you.

[bouchonne]

What, haven't you ever been to a wedding with an Ogre Bride?

[ Asked with genuine amusement. Surely they've all been there. ]

[cozen]

Of course. But she has announced hardly a week in advance, and she is planning for a lively party but has outsourced it to a Warden [ not known for their liveliness, even if this one seems very pleasant ] and she said they were like chaff in the wind with no plans for the music before I asked about them. I will not be shocked if a seamstress joins her at the altar to finish sewing her into her dress while they do the vows.

[bouchonne]

[ Hm. ]

I suppose you're not wrong about that.

[cozen]

—and this could all be leading to some surprise. Jilting. Drama. Or the usual attempted murder or kidnapping. Wouldn’t you hate to miss that?

[bouchonne]

Maker, yes. You know I love drama.

[cozen]

Then you will do it?

[bouchonne]

[ A beat, then: ]

Screw it. Yes. And if it displeases Miss Poppell, maybe it'll teach her a lesson about actually giving voice to her wants, instead of silently resenting people when they don't magically divine them from her mind.

[cozen]

That's the spirit.

[ Kinda? ]

[bouchonne]

We're going to sing many songs about cuckoldry, though. Just so you know.

[cozen]

[ Laughing: ]

No more than three.

[ And still sort of laughing: ]

I am not sure I am going, but if I hear you did a dozen... I'll find a punishment that you don't think is sexy. Somehow.

[bouchonne]

[ Hold on. ]

What do you mean, you're not sure?

[cozen]

Oh, you know.

[ Having someone he tries not to lie to is terrible. His pause is for struggling not to change his mind about that stupid secret rule. ]

If it were a meeting or a mission, that would be one thing, but it's a wedding! It's drinking and dancing, and it is very hard to play with you without flirting with you. [ His dramatically overwhelmed clenched fist is invisible, but his voice matches it. ] That voice, those hands.

—and it's camping. Which probably means sleeping. Deciding where to sleep. I don't want to make things hard for Alexandrie. [ Cheerfully, ] Or for myself.

Don't you dare say that you will not go now.

[bouchonne]

Bastien -

[ He's both frustrated - at Bastien, at himself, at this damned situation - and also touched, and fluttery over that praise for his hands. ]

I'm not going without you.

[cozen]

[ Bastien wasn’t fishing for that, and he wouldn’t have thought he wanted to hear it. What he wants is for Byerly to spend time more than a couple miles away from his office for something entirely unrelated to his work, losing himself the way he does sometimes with music, and being there for a young woman who he certainly cares about more than Bastien does, even if he likes her less.

But still. It’s unexpectedly nice to hear. Enough so that it takes Bastien a second to muster up further resistance. ]

What if I spend the whole time writing you a song so full of longing adoration it’s as if you have been away for a year?

[bouchonne]

Ha. Tempting.

[ But. ]

But I want you there. To give me courage. And to remind me not to be a shitass.