oneman_onevote: (Unfamiliar sunlight)
All things considered, he could have accidentally swapped bodies with worse than Trowa Barton.

Havelock will admit, however, that having the process reversed is a definite relief. All the nagging wrongness of height and weight and movement is washing away swiftly, and the lingering peculiarity is a small price to pay for that. He does, however, have a feeling that Puck may have been somewhat put out by the situation, and does not want that to continue any longer than necessary.

Although fixing that would be easier if he could find him.

The Bar and their room are both ominously empty, and he heads out into the mid-afternoon light with a slight frown.

Date: 2010-04-08 10:21 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
Puck, as it happens, is sitting in a tree near the outskirts of the woods, and though he had for some stretch of the morning been a robin redbreast, now he is in his more customary form; perhaps it's a statement that at least he may hold onto his shape if it pleases him.

Then again, to ascribe that level of thought may be to give him a little too much credit.

Date: 2010-04-08 10:31 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
Puck is keeping half an eye to the door, out of boredom if nothing else.

There is a peculiar jolt in seeing the shape that emerges; when one week is measured against five years, it it quite natural to make the mistake, to think it really is Havelock--

And of course, it is.

Just not all of him.

Date: 2010-04-08 10:43 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
And, even at a distance, there are certain gaits, ways of holding oneself, that one may also come to learn quite well.

Puck is not certain whether to believe it.

It is probably prudent to wait and see, so he simply turns on his branch, letting his legs swing, and peers down at the approaching Havelock-shaped person.

Date: 2010-04-08 10:52 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
... His voice.

(Not to mention that Mr. Barton is more in the habit of saying hey, and that only if he has no other option.)

Puck blinks.




Well, there's no sense beating around the bush:

"... Have you been set right, by any chance?"

Date: 2010-04-08 11:00 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
... Sorry, Havelock, Puck may not have been listening for that last part.

He is altogether too busy vanishing from the tree branch and reappearing on the grass below, to throw his arms around Havelock and hug him with great insistence.

Date: 2010-04-08 11:14 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
Puck laughs a little against his chest, his grip not slackening in any noticeable way but the tension going, going--

He draws back, with an effort, and looks up at him, fingertips brushing along one cheekbone.

He's smiling.

"Well," he murmurs.

"Hullo."

Date: 2010-04-08 11:26 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
He snorts.

"Oh, perfectly."

He's still near enough to be leaning lightly against him, but in the interests of not going cross-eyed he has pulled back a bit from the waist up.

Then he seems to change his mind and hugs him again.

"What did you say about methods, darling?" he says, half-muffled against his chest.

Date: 2010-04-09 06:24 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
Puck has now gone rather still, and Havelock will likely recognize the posture of curiosity, even transposed so near as it is now.

He laughs. "I know you and I have rather long familiarity with this place, Havelock-- but was not this entire affair peculiar and preposterous both?"

Date: 2010-04-09 06:58 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
"What manner of cure was it?" asks the limpet-fairy.

Not because he cares, really, as Havelock is quite evidently wholly himself again and that's more or less all that matters.

But if Havelock's so hung up about it, it's probably interesting!

Date: 2010-04-09 07:10 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
"... Living vines?"

Now the limpeting has taken on a decidedly shifty quality.




"How, er. Peculiar."

Date: 2010-04-09 07:28 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
Puck's apologetic snicker is cut short by some profound blinking.

"... A feathery young lady?"

Date: 2010-04-09 07:43 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
Puck has pulled away far enough to eye him right back.

"Did you get a name of her?"

Date: 2010-04-09 07:57 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] puckishly.livejournal.com
Puck goes :O!

And smiles, incandescently.

(He'd thought so. Though the vines are rather a surprising development.)

"Oh, she is lovely." This is only mildly reproachful.

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