The vegetable wingman.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Do you know who'd enjoy being trapped by mischievous mistletoe, collecting kisses from pretty girls and others? Do you know who would enjoy making himself a profession of rescuing helpless mistletoe victims?

BOSSUET WOULD DAMNED WELL ENJOY THAT, is who.

But every time he looks up, there's no sprig of greenery above his head, and every time he spots a mistletoe victim, someone else gets there first. (Often, he has noticed, Bahorel.)

Well, that's luck for you, and it's not as though it's the first time a lonely Laigle has taken matters into his own hands. Now he's in the bar with a potted plant, a potted plant with warning signs.

Warning: Do Not Pull The Mandrake Mistletoe.

and then a newer sign

MISTLETOE. It may resemble a mandrake, but I assure you it is mistletoe and it has me in its relentless vegetable grasp.

...which is all very well and good, and he sets it prominently on the bar next to him while he orders a bottle of wine and an extra glass or two. (He also has a book to read, of course. He wouldn't want to look desperate.) But another part of his mind is working away at the (annoying and probably useless) conversation with Hannibal Lecter, and he's got an eye out for anyone he's seen with the man.



((I'm going on slowtimes, but it's still open! OH MAN I'M SORRY, I fell asleep on the couch mid-sentence, back in the saddle today.))

Comments

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"You," he says. "You, my friend, have been haunting this place and making far more than your share of rescues."

[clayforthedevil]

"Would you begrudge the wandering dead their haunts? You, with a home full of kittens and cherubs and this plant that is, according to an almost-legal decree, mistletoe? Unkind, Lesgle. Unworthy. I thought to offer a more convincing prop, or an introduction to one of the rescued. But you make me reconsider."

He is, of course, helping himself to the wine on the table as he talks.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Kittens, cherubs, plants--and science. Very full of science, is my home." His voice is suspiciously not unlike a grumble. "You can hardly find the scientist under all that science."

The wine is absolutely there for sharing: Bossuet would pour if Bahorel hadn't already started. "And you aren't even going to kiss me, are you."

[clayforthedevil]

"Why, I thought you'd never ask." Bahorel swings Bossuet into an embrace and gives him a very blatant smooch. He pulls away and presses the back of one hand to his forehead. "To think that a humble peasant's child could catch the eye of one of the king's household, (several generations removed), what a marvelous age we live in!"

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Despite everything, the sudden lunge startles Bossuet, and he gives a very suitable impression of being flustered before kissing back heartily. "That's the spirit. --Oh, don't try your humble peasant routine on me. Or I'll be forced to say, To think that a humble dog-man's child could catch the eye of a law-student with however-much-a-year! How much do you spend on waistcoats anyway, Bahorel?"

Do, did, whatever.

[clayforthedevil]

Bahorel grins, and thumps Bossuet affectionately in the chest. "If you'd taken me up on my offers to get you to a decent tailor you could do the math yourself. As it is, even now, you must live with some mystery." He lifts his glass in the pretense of a solemn toast.

He pulls a sprig of greenery out of his waistcoat. "And you may also live with some mistletoe, courtesy of Mademoiselle Ava, a young woman who, I feel it should be stressed, fears neither her mistletoe- which surrounds but does not bind her- nor the use of fire to drive away annoyances."

He tucks the mistletoe over Bossuet's ear. "There now, if you're going to beg at least dress for the job."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"It's not getting the tailor, it's paying the tailor. I don't recall you offering to keep me in waistcoats and gloves and hats, my dear fellow. Or was I very drunk at the time? Did I miss my grand chance at a proper pin-money allowance? Because all those nights I've spent homeless on your couch I always understood to be grudging just-this-onces."

He accepts the mistletoe, and adjusts its angle with a dry look. "...Thanks."

[clayforthedevil]

"Indeed, and all those just-this-onces taught you nothing about the powers of insistence?" He shakes his head in mock disapproval. "At any rate now you might get a new overcoat to cover that one, and spare yourself Joly's fretting over your threadbare state in this occasionally dire winter."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"A new..." Lesgle plucks at his lapel. "I am very definitely not searching for a new coat. I don't want a new coat." He sounds almost anxious on this point.

[clayforthedevil]

"An overcoat, man, a cloak, something to go over it." He laughs at Bossuet's flustering. "Don't worry, Diogenes, none of us are trying to take your cloak from you. I know it's proven itself a valiant comrade, and I confess I'd hardly know you without it."

For lack of hair to tousle, he buffs Bossuet's head. "If only you had some other notable feature, like our Joly's cane."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Hey, now!" Bossuet swats at his hand. "I didn't take you for the sort to polish crowns. --Fair enough, a new overcoat might be an acceptable nod towards planning-for-the-future. I would permit it. But you, I'm surprised I haven't seen more adventures in wardrobe already. Shouldn't you be wearing wolf-skins or bear-skins or something of the sort?"

[clayforthedevil]

He shakes his head ruefully. "You will never understand art, my dear fellow. I do have my plans. Wolf skin, though--" he shakes his head and laughs. "--on the whole, I think not. It's being worn by others with far more commitment than I could bring to the idea."