dear_mun | (no subject)

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Should I care about sex? -- I suppose, but I can wait until my partner is ready.

Should I care about money? -- No.

Should I care about power? -- Not in politics. Try again.

Should you care about your fears?

Now that I'm the only one you have, I will reach out. Whether you would keep me silent or no.

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[ have a 1959!maria. ]

I suppose that leaves the question of what you should care about, then.

What is right, and what is best. Not always the same thing, but usually a close approximation of one another.

I must say -- you look a bit familiar.

[ oh, and here's a secretive, little, almost teasing smile. she knows more than she lets on -- her mun is a gracious one -- but not all. not everything. ]

It just might be my eyes.

Just your eyes? I hardly think that anything having to do with your eyes is 'just'... May I?

[ And he reaches out, to tilt her chin a little bit up, to make eye contact.

A flicker of realization -- ]

Maria, I believe.

Ms. Carbonell.

[ Her brow has raised a little at his straightforwardness, but she is still poised, betraying little, and her chin lifted gives her an air of pride, humoring him. She clasps his hand in hers, without moving it away: a clear message, from her, that he touches her because she allows it and nothing more. ]

If you would.

As you wish.

[ He kisses her knuckles, brief, in a gesture of respect. Releases her hand. ]

I'm terribly in love with your son.

Though if it's Ms., then perhaps he's not your son yet.

[ A soft, charmed nod: he is a gentleman, and though Maria has fallen through the rings of society, she will always have that breeding in her. But when he continues, her pretty little brow wrinkles in thought, trying to puzzle out what he means-- ]

You... Oh.

[ It hits her, one of the things she didn't know about Tony wherever he's gone, and her poised, secretive, strong, but somehow sad expression flies into one of surprise as her hand covers her mouth with just the fingertips. ]

It must come as a bit of a shock.

But, at least -- he's terribly flawed, your son, but a deeply heroic person underneath. He needs someone to protect him, and to help guide him. And I fill that role, as often as he lets me.

I suppose I'd like you to know there's someone taking care of him.

Are you all right?

[ Maria plops down onto the nearest sitting surface, anywhere, still in shock. Yes, just a bit. ] I admit, I believed he would be with that young woman, Ms. Potts. [ Now, she looks up at him, regarding him carefully; the concept is so alien to her. Surely he means it as one would a brother to a brother, or--but the way he speaks about him! Oh, what about grandchildren? It's almost like a personal affront to her that he did not choose a woman. ]

[ He takes a careful seat next too her. Not too close, not too far. ]

In most worlds, he is. In ours, it took something of a different course.

[ That brings some measure of comfort. She nods slowly, more to herself. ] Yes, that-- [ More strongly: ] That is good.

[ To Benjamin, brow furrowed: ] And he -- he loves you? [ She isn't sure she'll ever be able to wrap her mind around it. ]

He does.

The sort of love that you fight for.

[ A soft smile. ]

You're worried about grandchildren?

Yes, of course.

[ Maria says it quickly, eyes flickering across on his face, completely boggled by how two men could--

To her, it's an obvious concern. Something must have gone wrong. She feels like she needs a fan. ]

I'd like to raise children with him. But adoption would be necessary.

[ perplexed-- ] They'll need a mother.

You're never silent. Too many voices for that.

To you. Not, perhaps, to the writer.

Maybe I'll write you instead.

I'd like to see you try.

I could.

Hear enough dreams for a book.

I've always wondered. Do we have different dreams, or...?

Jewels can't be cut exactly the same. It's impossible. Similar, but the light always refracts at different angles.

Suits you, all those facets.

[ Her nose wrinkles slightly. ]

There's a lot of sex.

[ A wince, and a laugh. ]

Sorry.

It isn't just you.

Then I'm sorry you must hear all of it.

Heard worse.

There once was a set of three, at home. And Jayne.

That's, it's good.

That you'll be--

Enough people have been lost.

More than enough, but that's life in a place like this.

[ he doesn't really have much to say. things have been rocky back in the city.

so he's just gonna sit there somewhere nearby but out of the way and watch you do your thing. it helps, it makes him feel better; it distracts him from all that brooding and those dark thoughts. ]

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