milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Slayer inna bar, with coffee and food.

Headphones are in evidence, but no books, this time, Antarian or otherwise.

Conversation welcome.

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But I will.

You deserve it.

It takes about a minute for him to break that kiss.

"Face it," he says, "I'm spoiling you forever."

"I can live with that," Faith says, and beams at him.

Then pauses, as something occurs to her.

"....oh, god. Isabel is going to be insufferable."

"She's the one who tried to get us together in the first place."

Max laughs. "When she wasn't assuming I should marry Trillian. Which both of us are very glad was a pattern that died off quickly. Trillian should never be married, and as for me? Nothing more than a completely smitten one-woman man."

"... but yeah, we're screwed. Need earplugs."

"Oh, it's gonna be worse than that. You remember how nuts she went planning her own wedding...imagine that without the nerves."

Faith vaguely resembles a deer in the headlights.

"I officially appoint Meroin wedding planner," Max declares.

The quietest and most timid member of the higher court is obviously perfect for the job.

".....I think I just fell in love with you all over again."

More kissing follows.

It's enthusiastic.

There are no objections.

There is even reciprocation.

"She'll be happy as a clam to arrange flowers."

Meroin likes flowers. And she's quiet.

"I like Meroin. I like Isabel too, mind you, but...well, my eardrums are less fond of her."

There's a pause, in which Faith just runs her fingers through his hair.

"...I know nothing about weddings."

"They're both my family, and I adore them, and the bond between twins is impossible to break, but my sister should not be planning my wedding."

Max grins.

"I don't either. Mer does. And Varec does. And they won't torture us."

"...good enough. And I can concentrate on the important part, which is...learning what to do with myself afterward."

Beat.

"I've been studying."

"... Moiraine mentioned something about studying."

Then again, Moiraine really confused him.

"The Concordances of Higher Etiquette are sort of depressing, but the most depressing part is probably the accuracy bit. Since nothing's really exaggerated."

"...she told you?"

Faith, not knowing about Moiraine's condition, is a little taken aback by this.

"I didn't think she'd....yes, I've read those. And some of the law and history books...I've been reading a lot, lately, actually."

"Not -- normally, Moiraine'd never tell me anything like that. She's ... well, she and Del have some arrangement. Much more telepathic than usual. An empath open book, in fact."

It made him nervous.

"... and you're not comatose. Good lord, legal history."

"...oh, that can't be healthy." Faith winces, sympathetically. "Poor Moiraine. Del's nice enough, and she means well, but...Del."

Then she smiles, ducking her head a little sheepishly.

"Wanted to know things. Kind of need to, I think."

To be good enough to be with you.

Very probably she's not consciously aware of having thought it.

He can tell the difference.

He won't comment.

Not outwardly.

"You're perfect regardless. For me, you are."

"Flattery, my love, will get you....any damn thing you want."

Not that there's anything she wouldn't give him anyway.

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