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[altusimperius]

tell him how pretty he is

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[altusimperius]

[As easily as he sneered before, Benedict mirrors the smile that's flashed his way, even if it dwindles shortly after. Recent events put a lot of things in perspective; one of which, as much as he might have hated to admit it not too long ago, is that Byerly is important to him. That he cares about his happiness.

But still: there are other factors to consider.]

What does this mean? [he continues in a low, controlled, tone: he's still working to keep panic at bay, because growing empathy doesn't make his position any more precarious. He's not going to pick a fight about it-- and he's not getting clapped in irons and hauled away, so perhaps catastrophizing won't help anything, tempting though it may be.]

[bouchonne]

What you want it to mean.

[ He looks at Benedict. ]

If there's one thing that's been made clear, it's that you don't need my protection any more. When I was gone, no one did a thing against you. You've been a steady and loyal member of this organization for years now - no one is interested in persecuting you.

[altusimperius]

[The subtle shifting of Benedict’s eyes indicates this might not be entirely true, as he sees it, but he doesn’t argue: he’s got it handled, or something. He’ll figure it out.

More importantly, and with a discomfort that manifests itself as haughty:]

You’re not leaving, are you?

[He looks stuck up because he always does, but the question contains far more than judgment.]

[bouchonne]

[ Ah. Byerly is taken aback by the way that question is asked, enough that he's not terribly discreet. He says: ]

Would it upset you if I did?

[ - but it's not mocking or cruel. For once, it's a genuine question. ]

[altusimperius]

[Bene’s expression doesn’t change, but his gaze flicks to Byerly and away. He nods.]

[bouchonne]

[ Well, what the fuck. By smooths down his mustache and answers, evenly as he can: ]

No. It is not my intention to leave. There's still a war to be fought, after all.

[altusimperius]

[The faintest of smiles twitches onto the corner of his mouth, but he schools it into a more serious expression.]

And you’ll still, [he begins, but stops the question before he can ask it. Too pathetic, abort,]

[bouchonne]

[ This, he can't imagine the end of. ]

Still...? What?

[altusimperius]

[Foiled.
He looks down and away, holding onto what little poise he can maintain in this moment.]

…talk to me, [he mumbles.

It’s been years, and they’ve spent almost every day together in some capacity. Suddenly not having Byerly around sounds strange. Sad.]

[bouchonne]

[ Maker. What to do with this? Byerly has been accustomed, all his life, to people finding ways to avoid talking to him. Never once has he heard someone express an anxiety that he'd go away - only ever anxiety that he wouldn't go away.

What a strange life it is, he reflects, that he has come to lead. ]

I suppose that depends.

[ His voice is light, and far from unkind. ]

Do you have any intention of becoming a bore?

[altusimperius]

[Benedict almost laughs, but at the last moment he uses the opportunity to look offended and disgusted instead. A bore? Him?

It's a joke.]

[bouchonne]

Then you have your answer. Besides, we’ll still be working together.

[ A little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. ]

If you stay on as assistant, you may even end up my superior.

[altusimperius]

Perish the thought.

[Bene's smile returns, but goes a bit strange: he's not sure he wants to see that happen. Historically, he doesn't lend himself well to outranking people.

But no need to borrow trouble from the future, maybe it won't happen.]

What will you do instead?

[bouchonne]

Be a diplomat like any other.

[ He shrugs. ]

Be a bit more dissolute, a bit more scandalous. Rub elbows with less respectable company.

[altusimperius]

More scandalous, [Benedict remarks with a smirk,] how will you find the energy?

[bouchonne]

My dear lad!

[ He seems affronted at this question. ]

I have been scandal-free for going on four years now. Or close enough to scandal-free. I wouldn't even have to try to be more scandalous than I have been. If anything, it shall be like releasing a muscle that has been clenched for far too long.

[altusimperius]

Well, [fondly,] Maker help us all.

[bouchonne]

Mm.

[ His fingertips give a faint sense of awkwardness as he fiddles with his pen. ]

So you are...all right with this?

[altusimperius]

[Bene's smile dwindles into a more introspective set of the mouth, his brow furrowing self-consciously.]

I have to be, don't I?

[bouchonne]

Not necessarily.

[ The awkwardness grows just a bit. ]

You can, in fact, forbid it. If you so choose. I - will not leave you without protection if you truly feel you must have it.

[altusimperius]

[The incredulous look Byerly receives is genuine this time: Benedict fully doesn't know what to do with that kind of... what, control? Power over Byerly, of all people?

He shakes his head slightly, uneasily.]

...I don't keep slaves anymore. [he's not going to forbid anything, damn]

[bouchonne]

[ That extremely raw line gets a mildly impressed look from Byerly. ]

All right. Then to phrase it a bit more gently: your disapproval is of consequence to me. I care.

[altusimperius]

I know.

[The corner of his mouth twitches up in a sheepish smirk, which goes away just as quickly.]

But who would that benefit? Even if I could make you stay in the role, I couldn’t make you like it. I can’t… be responsible for that.

[He squares his shoulders.]

And besides, I don’t think you’d ever forgive me.

[bouchonne]

[ That earns a furrowed brow. ]

That would be an idiotic thing to hold a grudge over. It would be my choice.

[altusimperius]

Your choice to operate according to my whims? Even if we both knew you’d be unhappy?

[He pauses, then, furrowing his brow right back,]

Byerly, why would you ever do that.