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

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[bouchonne]

Sweet as oleander honey.

[ Said wryly. He doesn't believe that bit of flattery for one moment. ]

Kaiten isn't far. We could find out.

[cozen]

[ It's a credit to Byerly (and his sweet face) that Bastien does actually think about it instead of slamming shut like that metaphorical clam, making a joke, causing a diversion. But thinking about really, truly seeing them again makes his chest swell with fear and shame that he knows the source of—what if they aren't there; he shouldn't have left them—and miserable, wounded anger that he doesn't.

Identified origins or no, he doesn't know what to do with any of those feelings except step away from them. So after he's thought, he shakes his head, then shakes it again while he says, ] No. No. Thank you, though. If I were ever going to go, I would want you with me. For courage. [ More lightly: ] And to prove you are real. This might shock you, but I used to tell them a lot of wild stories. My lover, the Ambassador—Fereldan nobility, yes, that's right—

[bouchonne]

[ When? When would he have told those stories? When was the last time he spoke to them? By doesn't want to push, but for some reason, he says: ]

I would come with you.

[cozen]

[ Bastien cuts his imaginary conversation off immediately to smile and say, ] I know, [ with confidence that doesn't surprise him anymore. It used to surprise him, to notice himself believing that Byerly would be there in a week or would do what he said he would.

Next he'll be surprised by his lack of surprise. But at the moment, he doesn't really recognize it. ]

Because you are the greatest, and the sweetest— [ he switches his cello to his other arm so he can take Byerly's hand ] —and you could not resist the drama.

[bouchonne]

And because I'd love to find out more about how clever, witty, scheming, darling Bastien came to be.

[ By grips Bastien's hand back, smiles over at him. And, teasingly: ]

Maybe if I know those secrets, I could make more of you. I would enjoy having a hundred or so Bastiens in my life.

[cozen]

[ Bastien looks at him, then at the ground ahead—pleased, flattered, letting that unthreatening interest seep in—and it's only after a few seconds of silence that he says, ]

I am not sharing you with that many people. Ninety-five of them would have to get their own.