(no subject)

[anewlanguage]

The cabin is much larger than Cain usually springs for, but he's had dogs and a boar and hired help in and out of the beach home, so this seemed logical.

Besides, it was the only lot available this near to the hot springs. Those were crucial.

He prepares dinner (a quick meal, just hamburgers grilled on the patio) and waits to see if she can sneak away from work today.

Comments

[routemistress]

It's the dogs that come in first, barrelling through the door in an ecstasy of excitement to be reunited with Cain and their pig friend.

Iris, smiling to see them tearing around like a pair of lunatics, is next. She's calmer than Elvis and Solace, and she stops at the patio: stops and just watches and breathes for several long moments before she speaks.

"Smells fantastic."

She's not talking about the burgers. Or even the smells.

[anewlanguage]

Cain is retired but he still has a stranglehold on his reactions. Which means she startles him but he shows it by twisting around and smiling.

"No, no, you can't smell it proper from up there, darlin'. You have to come down here."

[routemistress]

She's wearing an enormous straw hat covered in hibiscus and bougainvillea, and before she speaks, she takes it off and hangs it on one of the shrubs that line the path. Then she shakes her hair out like a dog - she pictures the droplets of tension and unhappiness flying off her as she does it.

Then she launches herself at Cain at top speed.

[anewlanguage]

Cain has spent long enough with her, and more than long enough researching body language as its own language, that he can see it anyway. When she's away this long she's always had something rough to deal with; he has no idea what it could be this time. He just focuses on snatching her up and spinning her and when he sets her down he doesn't let go of her.

"How'd you know the hat would go with the cabin?"

[routemistress]

She loves this. Iris has lived a thousand years - more or less - without ever having a person she could trust this way. To just let go and know she'll be caught. She rests in his arms, almost limp, and smiles up into his eyes.

"Wildthyme's Law, Rule Number One: Hibiscus goes with everything. Bloody 'ell, this 'as been a long couple of weeks."

[anewlanguage]

"Hibiscus, huh? I'll have to remember that next time I gotta get dressed up." A grin, a wink. But he will remember, and the next time she visits there will be hibiscus planted in the front garden. It won't be very healthy hibiscus because the soil isn't right for it, and Cain is no gardener, but it'll be there all the same.

"Come see the pool the mountain put in for us. You could use a good hot splash."

[routemistress]

Nor is Iris - she's been known to be on speaking terms with trees, but the small stuff is just background for animals and bees. Although she'll notice it - one more shining jewel to hold in her hearts - even if she doesn't mention it out loud.

"Oooh, really? And aye, I could. D'you 'ave a lot of trouble convincing Abaddon to let you share it?"

[anewlanguage]

"He thinks he owns the place," Cain grouses, and nods to a system of ropes and pulleys over the hot tub. "So I try to scare him off and whatever I use works for a day or two before he figures it out. Today it's a net."

[routemistress]

She can't help it. Iris knows Abaddon to be an especially resourceful member of a species known for its intelligence and resourcefulness, but the idea of Cain locked into an escalating arms race with a pig is still hilarious, and she cracks up.

"Born troublemaker. 'E clearly gets that from me."

She eyes the net with interest, all the same.

"Good workmanship there and all. You 'aven't lost your touch."

[anewlanguage]

"Yeah he does, and don't think he doesn't know it. Every call to you, he gets ballsier." He says this with a grin and a distinctly proud air; he has always enjoyed praise from her.

"Want to hop in the tub, see about the rest of my talents?"

[routemistress]

"Thought you'd never ask."

This is mostly a joke, because Iris doesn't need to wait to be asked and she knows it - she just likes to wait because he always will ask. Win all round, in her opinion.

She sheds her clothes on the walk from the patio to the pool, dropping them as carelessly as a tree drops its leaves, and hops in with an inarticulate yet expressive pleasure noise.

"That's it. I'm never leaving now."

[anewlanguage]

"Good choice," Cain chuckles, shedding with more difficulty on account of the weapons he still straps to his arms and legs and waist, even here. The boar trots over to investigate the water, but decides to trundle off again, showing the dogs around perhaps.

Cain allows himself to really relax only when he's seated and up to his neck in the water. "Tell us a story, darlin'."

[routemistress]

Iris scratches Abaddon idly behind his ear when he stops in to greet her, but she doesn't take her eyes off Cain. He doesn't acquire new scars, these days: his TARDIS would see to that even if his lifestyle hadn't quieted down, but the old ones remain: every familiar line and pucker and place where his tan turns patchy, every story she likes to tell and retell with her fingers or her lips or her mind.

In the water, she rests against him, folding her body into his like a beloved climbing tree.

"I keep falling in love. Not off me own bat, mostly - we 'ad a flood with bloody love potion fairies, like Midsummer Night's Dream."

Her face is pressed into the hollow of his collarbone, and she lets her emotions float away like skin oils on water: all the embarrassment and awkwardness and real pain that came out of that flood, washing impotently against the real, solid bulwark of a love that grew as naturally as a tree.

"It weren't all bad, I 'ave to admit. And the breach we 'ad just before I come, that was brilliant. We all got to be superpowered teenagers. You've got Star Wars in your world, 'aven't you?"

[anewlanguage]

"A flood like that was my worst nightmare. If it's my own mistakes, I'd face 'em, but being twisted around like that..." His arm around her holds her closer. "Would've bribed someone to see you as a teenager, though. What about Star Wars?"

[routemistress]

Iris tilts her head up and kisses his jawline, for the sake of all the mistakes he's already owned and faced down.

"I'd've liked to see it, though. What about Star Wars is that they've all showed up on the Barge. Which sort of leads back into everyone I've fallen in love with lately. That's not the one making me tired, mind you."

[anewlanguage]

"Hope not," he agrees, chuckling. "If you were worn out from love or Star Wars I'd haul you off to the hospital to get your hearts checked."

He'd been well into his adulthood and his career when the first one came out but, still, it had been a monumental movie. "Are they still at war?"

[routemistress]

She smiles at the compliment - a true one, which is the kind Iris likes best. And her smile starts out tired, but Cain is a warmth seeping into her bones on a deeper level than any hot spring.

"Some of 'em. They're all from different times, bless 'em. The one I want to bring 'ere sometime - 'e's left all 'is wars behind for good."

[anewlanguage]

Cain has left mercenary work far behind, along with all the ugliness that goes with it, but to leave a war as big as the one he suspects took that galaxy? He clucks his tongue.

"How'd he manage that?"

[routemistress]

Iris knows how accurately Cain can read her; what she doesn't know is how much he remembers about the galaxy her Skywalkers came from.

"Died, darling. Died and switched sides last minute and took the big bad right along with 'im. Except the Admiral caught 'im on the way out and 'e's come to the barge to 'elp put things right."

She rests her head on Cain's shoulder, snaking her arm up behind his back to feel the broad sweep of muscle there. She will leave, and they both know it; but the part she takes real joy in is knowing she doesn't have to. That there are no deadlines on this moment.

There are more words in her, but instead of saying any, she makes a contented noise against his skin. Life, in this time and space, is excellent.

[anewlanguage]

Cain pulls her tighter to him when he feels her murmur, runs damp fingers through her hair.

"Put things right meaning fix the planets?" There are a lot of definitions of 'right', especially when someone has done as much wrong as Vader. Or Cain, come to that--and realizing there were other definitions is what had saved him in the end.

[routemistress]

She sighs; partly it's the sound of sadness and tension leaving her body, and partly it's simple animal pleasure.

"I honestly don't know, my love. There's a lot of history 'anging on 'is life. There's only so much you can undo without making everything worse. And trying to change what 'e thought must be 'is destiny's pretty much what got 'im started on the dark side, so 'e's what you might call a bit gunshy now. I think it might just be about trying to make good things 'appen instead, you know?"

She speaks evenly, without emphasis, because the parallels are so obvious, and then she starts to laugh, so low and quiet that it's more movement through water than actual sound.

"Of course 'e reminded me of you. But once I got to know 'im a little, it's actually me 'e's more like. I don't know what to think about that."

[anewlanguage]

"Refresh my memory, darlin', I don't think I ever heard talk about his destiny. All I know is he tried to kill Kenobi and his kid." He considers what little he knows and adds, "But him gunshy's probably the best thing. Least for a while."

He runs his fingers along her shoulder thoughtfully. "How's he remind you of you?" Not that he doubts it--he doesn't--he just likes it when she turns introspective.

[routemistress]

"Oh, that comes in in the prequels. Complete nonsense, but it's different when it 'appens to you, right? Poor love. 'E's time sensitive, did you know that? As well as all the Jedi stuff. Any road, 'e started seeing visions of losing the girl 'e loved. Sort of sent 'im over the edge."

She shivers deliciously at the touch of his fingers, and smiles.

"That's one thing in common with me. Getting attached. The Jedi don't 'alf put me in mind of the time lords. Mostly it's just being a speed merchant with more 'earts than brains and no middle gears."

[anewlanguage]

"How'd you figure out the time sensitivity? You oughta teach him what to do with it."

If he could be responsible with it, anyway, because if not...well, there's a lot of damage to be done there.

His fingers trail between her shoulderblades, teasing in light circles. "The speed's for devouring as much life as you can get, but you've got middle gears. They're there when you need to make the heavy decisions."

[routemistress]

Iris starts to laugh, soft and deep in her chest, and she hides her face against Cain's chest. He can still surprise her with how well he knows her, and it makes her feel so much more naked than merely having her clothes off.

"Shh. That's meant to be a secret. It's part of Anakin's story - 'e got suckered into the whole Dark Side business on account of 'aving visions of the future. 'E says they stopped, but I 'ave a feeling that's mostly that 'e suppressed it 'imself. I don't think 'e'll be very open to me poking into all that. Not any more."