Note: Original request from stars21: I would like to request a drabble that features Jaspert and Alek meeting for the first time after Deryn comes home.
This is set in the same future!verse as "tradition", but takes place (rather obviously) before that. And the last line's for Taman Guard. :)
.
.
.
Alek follows Jaspert until it becomes clear that the pretense of their trek is just that: a pretense. Then he stops, planting his feet on the sidewalk and refusing to move another inch.
Jaspert stops too, turning to face him, though he has to look down to do so – he's even taller than his sister. The older boy's annoyance shows plainly, but beneath that is an undercurrent of something else that Alek can't, as yet, identify.
"We're not 'going round to meet the lads'," Alek says flatly. "Are we."
Jaspert makes a show of wincing. "Don't - you haven't half got the accent for it. And no, we're bloody well not. It was just the only way to get you out of the house without her."
Alek opens his mouth to say something cutting about Jaspert's friends, and how he doubts any of them would be of interest to a former heir apparent… and then thinks better of it. "So I see. What do you want to discuss?"
Jaspert glances around. "Here? In the middle of the barking street?"
Alek shrugs as if he doesn't care in the slightest. As if Jaspert's opinion of him, this finely crackling animosity that's run between them since first meeting yesterday, could have no possible effect on his future.
Deryn's brother sighs. "All right, then." He squares his shoulders and spreads his feet slightly, as if he's anticipating a fistfight, not a conversation. The impression is helped along by his belligerent tone: "What're your intentions?"
"Towards Deryn?"
"Towards the sodding loris. Yes, towards Deryn!" Jaspert glances around again, then steps closer, jabbing an accusing finger into Alek's shoulder. "She thinks you're her one and only, but what you look like to me is a fancy boy with more money than brains and a damn difficult time keeping your loyalties straight."
Alek scowls and brushes at the spot on his jacket where Jaspert's finger landed. It's a more appropriate reaction, he thinks, than the swelling elation in his chest.
He wasn't certain, when he arrived in Glasgow months ago, if what had seemed so clear during the war would still make sense in peacetime. Many long conversations and astonishing, burning kisses later, he can say with confidence: It does. At least for him.
Her one and only. God's wounds, he hopes so.
He therefore dislikes Jaspert's insinuations. "I assure you, I am taking your sister quite seriously."
Jaspert scoffs – whether at Alek's words or at Alek himself, it's hard to say. "There's serious and then there's serious, and you've signed yourself up for that last one, Your Highness. Deryn doesn't do things by halves. She'll not be satisfied now until you get a ring on her finger, aye?"
He didn't know that. He holds the information close to the glow in his heart and tries to remain impassive. "We're sixteen. That's a bit young yet, in modern society. Don't you think?"
Jaspert is shaking his head, slow and pitying. "You have met my sister, haven't you?"
"Ah," Alek says. "True enough."
They both stand in contemplation of Deryn Sharp for a moment – although Alek's thoughts on the subject are, of course, substantially different from Jaspert's.
What is she doing right now? he wonders. Arguing with her mother, most likely, about wearing trousers in public. Alek likes the way she looks in trousers; he's used to it. And besides, she has rather long legs, and he enjoys seeing them.
"And you are going to put a sodding ring on her finger," Jaspert says, abruptly fierce, jabbing into Alek's shoulder again and breaking him out of his reverie. "Make no mistake of that, lad. Practically living under Ma's roof for the last six months - I don't care whose barking son you are. That's my sister and you're going to do right by her or else."
"Of course I am. I was going to wait a year or two," Alek says angrily, pushing the other boy's hand away. "Until we're older, and my inheritance is more... settled. I have a ring; one of my mother's. A sapphire. I think – I think she shall like it."
Jaspert looks a bit taken aback by this forthrightness. "Oh," he says lamely. Shuffles his feet and rubs a hand across the back of his neck. "Well. Good, then."
"I am taking her very seriously," Alek says, embarrassed now.
"You should, Clanker, she deserves it." Jaspert rocks back on his heels, regarding Alek contemplatively. "Want to go round and meet the lads? – for real this time. We'll be generous and let you buy, how's that?"
Alek thinks about it. "Why not?" he says with a small shrug. Jaspert jerks a thumb towards the other side of the street, and they cross, dodging four-legged traffic.
"You and I might be friends yet, Alek." Cheerfully, Jaspert claps him on the shoulder and adds, "But break her heart and I'll break your legs, aye?"
