[Closed Post] ..lines we're leaving behind..

[lanselos_du_lac]

He doesn't really mean to, but Lancelot keeps to his rooms for a time in the wake of the latest mansion upheaval. He doesn't disappear for days, and he mostly keeps his routines -- he does spend a little more time riding -- but he is subdued and not idly floating about for socializing.

It could have been worse. He knows this. He knows, too, that no one did this on purpose; he's grateful for Susan and Nightingale's understanding. But none of that makes it easier to regain his emotional balance. Much like that day (which felt very long), he is still grappling occasionally with that sensation of being... just outside of himself, a step removed, dizzy and longing to be even further away.

Still, he does not want to punish Susan and he knows they should talk. So this morning after he puts up Rivelin, he goes to find Susan, wherever she might be.

Comments

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Of course you have," Susan says. "At the very least, you have me. It's good that you have others, too." She says this a little sternly, as if - should Lancelot not be properly appreciated - she would find some way to ensure change.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot smiles at her, "I have thee, aye."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan flushes at that smile. She finds herself wanting to say and you shan't be rid of me, either but that sounds like rather a big declaration, and one she's not quite ready to vocalize. She shoves another gherkin in her mouth about it.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He watches her fondly for a lingering moment, then says, "I would ask something of thee, today."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan swallows. "Yes?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"An thou hast not grown tired of my company," lightly, clearly knowing she hasn't, "I would spend the night with thee."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Ah! Then I shan't have to strap you down to keep you here?" she says, clearly (mostly) joking.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Oh, was that thy scheme?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I'm a resourceful woman. I use the tools at my disposal to achieve my ends."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot laughs, "Aye, well I know it."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan smiles at him, and then busies herself looking through the strawberries for the reddest, most perfect strawberry of them all. "You might spend several nights with me, if you like," she says.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"One after the next?" The question is bright, sincere. (In truth, this would feel to him like a wild luxury.)

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"...Unless you had other plans."

[lanselos_du_lac]

A laugh, and he flushes, "I had none, other than being in my room alone."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"How dreary," Susan says, immediately. "I don't intend to let you out of my sight anytime soon."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"No?" He presses her fingers. "I am happy to hear it."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan doesn't say what she's thinking, which is that she was getting increasingly concerned the longer he spent by himself, and she should like to have at least equally as much time at his side. His is a soothing presence, and she's just starting to realize exactly how adrift she felt after her day as Thomas, without him there, grounding her. Instead, she simply threads their fingers together.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Come here, to me," he says softly, squeezing her hand again.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

So Susan rises from her seat and rounds the table without releasing his hand. When she's at Lancelot's side, she leans in to kiss him, slow and searching.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He kisses back, sweetly, and draws her gently into his lap.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She goes easily with his touch, perching on his lap and twisting her torso, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead against his.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He enfolds her in his arms, warm and sure, happy to have her so close, happy to hear she wants him to stay.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Really, this is just a matter of pragmatics. When one cares about resources and their allocation, it is important to keep the more important of resources safely stored away in the appropriate area. Such as Lancelot, in Susan's room. Susan is just being sensible, as always, to insist on appropriate resource management vis-a-vis gorgeous men who have sneaked right past her defenses and become precious important to her in unexpected ways. It's so logical it barely merits mention. She tucks her fingertips under the collar of his robe, stroking over the warm skin there.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He smiles into the kiss, rubbing a hand up her back as if he could pull her still closer.

Susan feels so good against him, so good in his arms. She feels like an anchor, a haven. Lancelot cannot imagine why he didn't recall this sooner; it isn't news to him.

(But then, he supposes, it has always been his way to put himself apart, to isolate himself, when he's unsettled or upset. He's not sure why. It is his habit but-- it needn't be, any longer.)

His fingers clench gently in the soft fabric of her robe.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan presses into his touch. It's instinct as much as anything; he's warm, he's solid; she can't get enough of the feeling of his hands against her skin. She feels like an exposed wire, sparking when he's near. She doesn't know how to vocalize any of what she's feeling, though, so she just kisses him harder, tightening her grip like she can merge their bodies together.