Set while Alex is in the officers' academy. I don't know what the official version is, but in my version of events Vincent had already graduated and was serving on a ship by the time Alex decided he needed to be a battleship captain.
Something has happened to my sentence structure. I can't seem to type in complex sentences anymore.
For ayatsujik, who first theorised that the combined efforts of Vincent and Sophia were responsible for Alex's Dark and Dramatic - but undeniably well-groomed - appearance.
finished 27 January 2007
Retail Therapy
Vincent has hit the bottom of despair and gone out the other side, so he goes shopping.
Alex Rowe's wardrobe consists of a lot of threadbare cotton shirts that used to be white, and a brown flight jacket worn with years. Alex used to wear grey and brown wool in cold weather, and Yuris darned the heels of his socks because Alex couldn't be bothered to.
He won't wear any of these things now.
Vincent pays for black linen socks, and tells the shopgirl to keep the change. He saunters out into the street holding the package, humming happily to himself.
These days Alex dresses in his officers' academy uniform even on weekends. It is abundantly clear that Alex is not about to snap out of it and go back to being good old Alex; Vincent has tried for this result for half a year, and it's not happening.
It takes five years to finish the training course; Alex is determined to do it in two. When Alex is studying he forgets to eat and sometimes to sleep. Vincent patiently explained to him one day that this was not a sustainable strategy, and if he did not take reasonable care of himself he would die of exhaustion long before he ever got his hands on a ship, let alone Delphine.
That worked, at least.
There is nothing now that Vincent can do, so he laughs and jokes and makes coffee and digs out all his textbooks and notes for Alex, pretending that this is normal. Pretending that he can deal with this.
"We have that in several other colours," the salesgirl says, politely, watching him examine a cloak. It is black velvet, and fastens at the neck with a dark green satin ribbon.
"It's for a friend," Vincent replies.
It's not, really. The Alex Vincent knows would have taken one look and fallen over laughing. He'd point out that cloaks in general were pretentious and impractical, and if you wanted to be out of the wind you should invest in a sensible coat.
The present Alex is a stranger that Vincent is only just beginning to understand. He isn't at all sure he likes him; in fact he's not even sure there's anything there to like or dislike. But he was once Alex, he still has Alex's face, and Vincent likes to think that Alex Rowe is still in there, somewhere.
"Can you change that ribbon to white," Vincent hears himself say, "and wrap it up for me, please?"
-
"If you insist on being dark and depressive," Vincent explains later, "you might as well look good while you're doing it."
Alex looks up from his battleship spec sheets, and Vincent realises with sudden clarity that he has spent the afternoon doing completely useless things.
Alex's gaze flickers over the small pile of packages, Vincent's carefully impassive expression, the inner workings of the new Urbanus-class battleships, and finally Vincent again. He blinks, mouth twisting a little in thought, and then says, quietly, "Thank you."
Vincent smiles. "You should apply to the Silvana after you graduate," he says. "I'm told the uniforms are going to be black and silver."
He makes himself laugh. Alex returns to studying.
End