∞ 92: Warming weather [action]

[chikaidestroyer]

[He didn't send out an announcement of any kind when they returned home. Others had already announced their dead and offered any words of encouragement or frustration.

Instead, Albert spent the days following the draft ... working on his flower beds. March had brought with it a warm spell, meaning that his seeds would be germinating and eventually sprouting. This is also the time for pulling down the dried vines from his trellises.

It's a lot of work (and a lot of garden), so he'll be out and around the house until late in the day. It's as dusk approaches that he can be found sitting on the porch, watching three tiny owls perched on the porch fencing.]

...Welcome back.

Comments

[herotypical]

[ if he had heard the announcement then he might be able to expect that his 'general' would come seeking him -- working his house into her nightly patrol which she stuck to with undue dedication.

she stops in front of his porch -- wordless. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

[The twittering from the owls can be heard from the porch, followed a moment later by the sound of Albert shifting in his chair. Maybe one of the birds had noticed someone standing in the semidarkness.

Another moment later, Albert stands, carefully heading over to the porch step.]

[herotypical]

...Hi.

[ her tone is flat and she seems to be saying it more because a greeting is probably expected. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

Hello, Buffy.

[There's silence as he stands there, at the top of the porch and looking down at her. His steps down to her level are slow, the wood creaking slightly under his shoes.

He stands in front of her quietly. He could say something, but it would frankly sound out of place. But before the silence can stretch on...]

My condolences.

[herotypical]

What are condolences -- actually -- anyway?

[ the question is accompanied by a tight, appreciative smile. the sad kind of smile that suggests things aren't really okay at all but smiling is what one must do in times like these.

and the question itself is just a poor attempt at side-stepping the real issue at hand. ] I mean...they're not a thing. And does anyone ever use them other than to say my condolences. I mean -- it's not like you'd ever say "hey can I have some of those condolences over there"?

[chikaidestroyer]

It's a way to extend support without being specific. [Despite Buffy's attempts to lighten the conversation, even artificially, Albert won't simply allow it. His voice is calm and quiet as he continues looking at her.] Usually accompanied by a handshake, embrace, or muted gratitude.

[herotypical]

...Does that mean we can hug, now? 'Cause I'd really like to hug now. Handshakes are for funerals and this -- he's coming back.

[ so her words are disjointed; it's her face that speaks more, caught somewhere between grief and anxiety. and albert is still one of the few in this village that she can speak with and be utterly honest. no padding for his sake -- only for hers. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

[Albert doesn't even say anything to that. Instead, he closes the small gap between them and rests his hands on her shoulders, drawing her to him.

...He probably smells of earth, dried leaves, and grass at the moment, but this isn't exactly the time to give apologies for that.]

[herotypical]

[ buffy is a pro-hugger. you don't survive seven years on a hellmouth without learning to depend on physical comforts -- and embraces can mean so much more than words. she tucks her arms firmly around albert and returns the hug with a clear desire to be comforted. she should handle death better, by now; especially when it's so temporary...only, is that maybe what makes it harder? she doesn't like thinking about it.

earth and leaves and grass are not so bad after so much sterile-smelling snow. she buries her face in his chest and breathes through it all. the war hero, undone. ]

He's not supposed to be so noble. Self-sacrifice isn't supposed to be his style. [ this she murmurs into the space between them. she doesn't believe her own words, really. but she has warped jack's inaccurately selfish persona into her strongest objection to how this whole thing has played out. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

[As for Albert, he isn't particularly affectionate. ...But that was probably very obvious just by looking at him. He holds Buffy more than he returns the embrace, and he is quiet while she speaks.]

Sometimes people do not think before they act, regardless of style. [It's little comfort in his own ears, more a fact than anything. He's done a few foolish things in the hectic situations Luceti forced upon them.]

[herotypical]

[ it takes only a few more moments and buffy is disengaging. rediscovering decorum. ]

Right. Maybe he just...wasn't thinking. [ somehow it doesn't quite seem to be the part she believes. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

[He lets one hand fall back to his side as Buffy begins pulling away, but keeps the other resting on her shoulder.]

You said that he is not supposed to be so noble. If there is one thing that Luceti allows that few other places do, it's the ability to see a person at both their best and worst.

[herotypical]

And I've seen all of those on him. Plus the in between bits. I just...is it really clichéd to say I should have been there?

[chikaidestroyer]

Unsurprising, not cliché. He is a friend and someone you care about. [He could infer more, but that should do.] But you can't be everywhere at once.

[herotypical]

[ she lays a light hand over the one of his that's still on her shoulder. ]

Because I'm awesome, but I'm not magical. Right.

[chikaidestroyer]

...Hah. Perhaps that's one way to look at it. [He frowns wryly.] Even so, you should not have to burden yourself with those thoughts. If you were not at his side, it was likely because you felt he could handle himself. You trusted he wouldn't do anything too reckless. [Or maybe because she felt she needed to be elsewhere. But let's not focus on that.]

[herotypical]

A few days before -- he saved my hide. It was a Shifter and I was beyond useless. So yeah, I trusted him.