singillatim | deep in December, it's nice to remember

I'm fairly adept at visually assessing measurements.

[ Just another one of those things about him that Ray had found infinitely aggravating (even though he certainly could learn to do it himself if he made an applied effort).

Her fingers slide along his, the carefully tanned leather of the gloves soft and supple against his own callused skin. He'd done his best to make them pretty, not just practical, though he admits he's not as much of an artisan as any true leatherworker. He spreads his fingers under hers, palm to palm. Even with the gloves, her hands are smaller. He loves the way they feel in his own. ]

And I measured them against my own hands.

Edited 2025-01-06 12:11 (UTC)

Ben.

[She brings one of his hands close, pressing a soft kiss to that rough palm before sliding the gloves from her hands and sliding them lovingly into her pocket.]

You cannot be a real person. Sometimes, I think you may be a gift from the heavens. What I got for you is not so impressive.

I'm just a man, [ he protests, as a scratch at the door catches his attention. Ben steps away from her long enough to open it and allow Diefenbaker to trot through. The wolf is followed by three of his progeny, puppies whose owners had been taken from them. They're about half a year old now, gangly and energetic with ears that look like sails in comparison to the rest of their heads.

They come into the house with a clatter of claws, the pups heading to Svetlana to nose around her feet before following Diefenbaker to the fireside. Fraser watches them go, as he returns to her side. ]

It's about time they had names.

[ He smiles down at her, focusing once again on her face. Where was he, again...? Oh, yes. ]

And you didn't have to get me anything at all. You've already done so much for me.

[She pulls herself away from him so that she can greet the puppies (they will always be puppies to her) properly with head scratches and kisses to their ears. Dief, of course, gets the most attention.]

Perhaps you should ask them what their names are.

[She stands up properly.]

And you stay right there and don't move. [She disappears into the other room, bringing out a small parcel she had hidden underneath the bed. She brings it to him, wrapped up. It's a journal with a few pages torn out of it, but the rest are filled in. Her language, of course, as her English isn't great written, but she holds it out to him anyway.]

I have been writing you letters. I filled up an entire book for you. So I thought you needed to have them.

[ He puts out his hand and accepts the book, moving a little like a man in a dream; stunned and slow. ]

Svetochka....

[ Ben unwraps the parcel carefully, treating it with reverence. It's unbelievably precious to him, this gift of hers; her own words and thoughts, put down on paper and filling an entire book, just for him.

He knows she's seen him poring over his father's journal. He has no idea if that's where she got the idea, or if it came to her some other way, but it's... perfect. She's perfect. He shakes his head, wordless, and carefully opens the book to scan through a letter at random before he looks back up at her. ]

This is wonderful. I can't imagine anything... anything better. How did you know?

[She stands on her toes and cups his face in her hands to gain his attention. To keep him on her, giving him her light.]

Because I know you, Ben. Because what you value is not - trinkets or material things. You value people. Who they are and what they think.

So I gave you my thoughts. My values. My words about the happiest times I've been here - which all include you.

You do know me. Better than anyone else, I'd have to say.

Except Ray, maybe, and he isn't here.

[ But he can hear his friend, just as clearly as if the man were standing right next to him, saying things Fraser hadn't ever really understood before.

( What about love? What about that moment when you know that this is the woman you want to spend every waking hour with for the rest of your life? I'm tellin you, you gotta have that moment in your life, when you know you will never ever be the same again. )

He'd never known how Ray could be so confident, so sure he'd know it when it happened. And yet here he is, looking down into Sveta's lovely face, almost blinded by the way she shines, and he thinks that for the first time he might understand what his friend meant. ]

It's perfect. I'll cherish every word.

How much of it can you read?

[She leans against him again, just taking comfort from the way that he stands, the way she feels protected simply by being in his vicinity. He's a solid anchor for her, but more than that, he's the only thing she wants to shine on.]

Because I am not translating it for you! [That is said with a playful pout.]

My Russian is a little rusty, [ he admits, tucking an arm around her and letting her lean comfortably on him. He isn't someone who has often been the recipient of physical affection, and every hug from her, every brush of her fingers or kiss to his cheek, feels brand-new. ]

But I think I'll manage. It would be easier if I could find a dictionary, but I somehow doubt Milton had too many Russian scholars among its population.

Hm.

[She trails her fingers along the journal and then taps it.]

Well. I suppose I could help you along. Even if it means telling you my sweet words aloud.

[ He gives her a wry nod of agreement. ]

My only other option is to ask Konstantin, I'm afraid.

[ Is that... the slightest glint of teasing light in his eyes? ]

You wouldn't! [But there's laughter in her eyes as she contemplates it.]

He wouldn't tell you anything.

No, I wouldn't.

[ He leans down to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, smiling at his own little joke. ]

And he wouldn't. He's a good friend.

So it looks like I'll simply have to come to you with any questions.

More time to spend with me.

[She smiles, but there's a genuinely questioning look on her face.]

Are you certain you aren't tired of me being around?

Not in the slightest.

[ He'd been speaking to Francis Crozier only the other day about how strange and beautiful it was to find companionship here, when he'd never expected to ever manage it back home.

And having Sveta here makes this cabin feel more like a home than anywhere he's lived for a long time. It's no longer just a shelter; it's a place where they've talked and laughed and held each other; grieved and pushed through to another day. ]

This is your home, too. Or it could be. If you want.

[It's not as if Sveta hasn't considered asking him for this, but there's a part of her that is so independent and strong and all of the other things that she's prided herself on.

She didn't want to rely on anyone, but Ben makes that hard. Mostly because she has as much autonomy as she ever did, and she goes to bed each night feeling safe and secure and loved.]

Are you certain?

[She looks around the cabin with new eyes.

Is it home? Could it be?]

I never say anything I don't mean.

[ Yet another trait that Ray had found intensely aggravating, and Ben can understand why. Always speaking only what he truly believes can lead to some uncomfortable situations.

Not this time. He can't imagine being anything other than totally honest with her, and he can't imagine she'd want him to be anything other than totally honest. And yet there's still a degree of vulnerability that he finds it difficult to accept: he wants to say stay with me, but those simple words feel like baring the weakest parts of himself.

He hasn't let those walls come fully down since Victoria. Even now, here with a woman who has done nothing but care for him and heal him, he finds it almost impossible to voice his deepest wishes, the things he wants most for himself. ]

If you want.

[ Because it has to be what she wants, no matter what he might wish for himself. He knows she'd always intended to move back to her own space, that she has her own life.

But she asked. And he can't help but tell her the truth. His voice drops to a whisper, like if he says it quietly enough, it can be kept between them: a secret. ]

Stay.

[The answer comes easier than she ever thought. She had been having reservations, of course, but not anymore. Not now. She simply nods, the small gesture speaking words and volumes and operas for her.

It still doesn't seem enough and she wraps her arms around him to pull him into a kiss.]

I am happiest here. With you. So I will stay.

deep in December, it's nice to remember

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