milliways_bar | (no subject)

Christmas is finally over and done with, and it will be almost a year before Cal will have to start dreading it again. His mood has improved a little with each passing day. The grief is still there, but it isn't so exhausting.

And Calvin's book is helping. Cal hasn't read the letter from Grahame in days.

He sits near Bela, unconsciously a bit cautious. They parted on good terms before, but instinct is still pushing him to be careful.

"Hey."

She reaches out and pats his hand as she greets him, giving his hand a little squeeze before pulling back. She's in a good mood, and she's glad to see him.

"Hi. Everything okay?"

"I'm all right," he says, relaxing a little and giving her a smile. "I survived Christmas."

"Oh, that's right," she says. If it's New Year's, there must have been Christmas. Duh, Bela.

"I'm glad you did."

"It was touch-and-go there for a while." Cal sighs, rubbing a hand through his hair. He really doesn't want to talk about it.

"So how's your hand?" he asks instead.

"Much better!"

She shows him, as proof.

"And I am refraining from sticking my hand into dark niches in stone walls from now on. I learned my lesson."

"I can't believe that was a lesson you had to learn," Cal teases, touching her palm lightly. "Isn't that the kind of thing that - comes, you know . . . pre-learned?"

"You'd think, yeah. We all have our faults, unfortunately. Mine is failure to remember important lessons."

"Man, you're lucky it was just a porcupine," Cal says, making a face. Suffice it to say that he is unlikely to stick his hand blindly into unknown wall crevices.

"I know, right?"

She's laughing now. Of all the horrible things that could have happened to her when she didn't look where she was putting her hand, porcupine quills are the least of her worries.

Cal is thinking more along the lines of rats. And snakes. And things. He has no specific objection to these, as long as they are encountered in the light of day and unlikely to be startled and inclined to bite.

"Ugh," he says, but he's smiling as she laughs. It's the most relaxed he's seen her in a while.

"It comes with the job, I'm afraid."

Bela's life is so har- wait. It is hard, actually. But she can lighten things up every once in a while.

"You know," Cal says, "at least in politics, the getting bitten is metaphorical."

Usually.

"Really? How so?"

She grins. Light banter is fun!

Cal blinks. Doesn't everyone know what that means?

"You know," he says (again), gesturing vaguely. "Getting bitten. Stabbed in the back. Whatever. It happens all the time. You have to be careful who you trust. Well, no one trusts anyone, but you know what I mean. I really don't miss it," he concludes.

"I know, Cal. I was just teasing you."

She did know.

"Since I am the biter and stabber, usually, it doesn't apply to me."

Don't bring her down, Cal, doooon't!

Cal rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

"God, it's like talking to -" He abruptly pulls up short and he catches himself.

Whoever it's like talking to - well, it's not God.

". . . yeah, I know all about you and the biting, believe me," he tries instead.

As saves go, it's not exactly the smoothest on record.

She punches in the arm. Mostly playfully.

"Is that a complaint, Cal Chandler?"

Relief. She seems not to have caught the unfortunate near-comparison. (Even though . . . guess who else is the only other person here who ever addresses him by his full name like that?)

Cal rubs his arm dramatically, grinning and saying,

"Did it sound like a complaint?"

She considers this. She takes her time.

And then she grins.

"I suppose not." She reaches for his hand.

Situation saved.

Cal smiles, lacing their fingers together.

"Good," he says. "'Cause I can mostly live with it."

She scoots her chair closer to his, so they're more side-by-side.

"I did know the metaphor, by the way. I may be slightly less-than-wise in some areas, but I do know my metaphors."

"'Course you did," Cal says. "Not your fault I don't know when I'm being fucked with half the time."

He's used to it, really. At least the people he knows in Milliways do it without malice.

"Oh, do people tease you?"

She pats his cheek, the very soul of consolation.

"How mean! Taking advantage of such a dear soul."

Cal looks awkward, because it's mostly Sam who teases him - his other friends include people like Ianto and X, who are not exactly the teasing type - but he can't say that.

". . . I'm used to it," he says instead. "I mean, I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exactly a genius."

It's meant as banter, but the awkwardness makes it fall a little flat.

She frowns.

"People don't bother you about it, do they, Cal?" she says, in all seriousness. "I think you're quite smart in the ways that count."

Well, there goes the banter. He might not be as book smart as she is, but she could care less.

Edited 2009-01-01 04:49 (UTC)

Make that super awkward. Cal accepts sincere compliments poorly, and he's even worse with ones he doesn't think he deserves.

"Well. Thanks," he says. "I mean. I'm not, but. There are worse things than being kinda dumb." Uncomfortable shrug.

He really hopes she doesn't try to argue the point.

Bela won't. She knows all about self-doubt and self-loathing. So she kisses him instead.

She hasn't kissed him in a long time. It's a very nice kiss.

It is a very nice kiss, not least because it's infinitely better than an argument he knows he wouldn't be allowed to win. He strokes Bela's cheek with his free hand.

"I knew there was a reason why I liked you," he murmurs against her lips.

She presses her lips against his for another quick kiss.

"Because I know when to avoid the conversational traps we seem unable to avoid? Damn right."

Cal laughs quietly into her mouth.

"You're better at it than I am," he says.

"I should hope so. I am the con artist, here. I mean, politicians come in close second, but still."

She wraps her arms around him.

"I missed this," she says in a quieter voice.

"Well, if this is a con, I hate to break it to you, but I don't really have access to my bank account right now," Cal teases.

He draws her closer, resting his chin in her hair.

"Me too," he says. "I'm sorry."

She shrugs slightly. "It happens."

It will probably happen again, but Bela isn't going to think about that at the moment.

She sighs softly. "I'm also not conning you. I won't. Promise."

She'll try really, really hard to keep that promise, which is saying a lot.

He gives her a gentle squeeze. "I know you're not," he says.

If nothing else, he's a hundred times better at spotting it than he is at doing it himself.

She smiles up at him.

"I like it when we're friends." Her hand moves up his arm to rest on his chest.

"I especially like it when we're being friendly upstairs. Shall we?" She cocks her head in the direction of the stairs and grins.

Cal grins back.

"Am I ever gonna say no?"

He kisses her and then stands, her hand in his, and they go upstairs together.

It hasn't been as long for Cal as it has for Bela, but it almost seems as though it has.