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Vorkosigan fic: "Discretion"

Fandom: Vorkosigan series
Challenge: lmb_challenge prompt: "secrets"
Pairing: Nicol/Bel
Rating: PG-13
Length: 810 words
Author's Notes: Thanks to gryphonrhi, my beta. Spoilers for 'Labyrinth' and the scenario of 'Diplomatic Immunity.'
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Lois McMaster Bujold. Go buy her books.

“Nicol? Are you asleep?” Bel said quietly, trying not to disturb her.

Nicol stretched her limbs in the sleep sack. “Not quite,” she said, twisting to see the chrono shining in the dark. “You’re awfully late. Trouble at Docks and Locks?”

“Well,” Bel hesitated, “the Barrayaran envoy arrived today.”

Barrayarans. Strutting around the grav areas in those green uniforms, glaring at quaddies like they were unquarantined disease-carriers, breaking poor Garnet 5’s arm and then using plasma arcs inside the station. They were maniacs, even by downsider standards.

There wasn’t a single woman with them, either. Nicol imagined the Barrayaran women huddling together on their home planet, banishing their dangerous men out past the atmosphere. It would certainly explain the way Barrayaran men acted when they reached civilized ports.

“And it turns out that I know the envoy,” Bel continued, sounding a bit apprehensive. Guilty, almost.

“Come on, snuggle up,” Nicol said absently, considering the possibilities as she listened to the soft rustling of Bel undressing in the dark. Had some former lover turned up all the way out here on Graf Station? She held her upper arms out to Bel and helped it into the sleepsack. “So, you know him?” she asked.

“We both do,” Bel said, twisting around to rest its head on Nicol’s shoulder. “Seems that Miles is operating under the identity of ‘Lord Auditor Vorkosigan’ these days. Mmmph!” it protested as Nicol’s lower hands clutched too tight.

Once upon a time, Nicol had craved excitement, romance, and danger. She had left home and set out across the space lanes, using her musical gift to pay her way from station to planet. She’d found more than she’d bargained for. Nicol had been imprisoned by an unethical contract, degenerate downsiders, and relentless gravity when she first met Bel.

Bel was beautiful, exotic, a true hero, and in love with Miles Naismith.

The violent combat that had left Nicol a shivering wreck made the little Admiral incandescent, like a prodigy after a triumphant opening performance. Watching that fierce light reflected in Bel’s eyes, Nicol assumed nothing could pry Bel away from the Admiral and the life he offered. So Nicol had come back home, where it was safe. Bel’s appearance in Quaddiespace years later had been an unexpected delight. If the Admiral was fool enough to toss Bell away, she wasn’t too proud to pick up the pieces.

“According to the cover story, we’ve never met Miles before,” Bel said, running a soothing hand down Nicol’s back. “I told him he could count on your discretion.”

And now, just when Bel was finally settling down, looking into the genetics work needed for children, he had to show up.

Sure, Admiral Naismith was the man who encouraged Bel to rescue her. He was also the man who’d gleefully started a three-House war on Jackson’s Whole and not even looked back to see how much damage he’d caused. Someone had put him in charge of those trigger-happy Barrayaran soldiers. And all Nicol had to fight back with was a sliver of truth. Should she keep the little man’s secret? Barter her silence for something of equal value? Or just see how much damage she could cause? What was that old Earth saying? Oh yes. ‘All’s fair in love and war.’

“Of course,” Nicol said, in a tone as pure as her dulcimer. “I wouldn’t want to get Miles in any trouble.”

Bel hugged her. “Great! I’ve invited Miles and his … ah, his wife, to join us for dinner tomorrow at Zapico’s.”

Nicol’s view of this visit from Miles spun wildly for a moment before reorienting itself on a new vector. “His wife? What’s she like?”

“Oh, she’s an attractive woman,” Bel answered. “Not as tall as I’d have guessed.”

Bel quivered with quiet laughter against her. Nicol had to smile at the memory of that astonishing gengineered female the Admiral had rescued from Ryoval’s.

“She’s very Barrayaran,” Bel said. “Serene – no.” Its fingers traced a pattern down Nicol’s spine. “Self-contained. Definite steel under the velvet, if you know what I mean. I think she’s been good for him.”

“Well in that case, I look forward to meeting her,” Nicol said honestly. She slid herself slowly, teasingly along Bel’s body until she could kiss the curve of its breast.

“Oh,” Bel breathed out on a pleased sigh. “Not sleepy?”

“Not any more,” Nicol purred, reaching for another bit of Bel’s anatomy that was expressing its interest. Their love-making was fast, and rather desperate. If Bel assumed she was feeling jealous, that was fine. But there was more to it.

Nicol knew, with something like the bone-deep awareness every quaddie has of Newton’s Laws, that with the little Admiral’s arrival, life on Graf Station was about to get very exciting indeed. She fell asleep holding on to Bel with all four hands, and hoped it would be enough.


Jul. 16th, 2010 06:42 am (UTC)
Miles is a force of nature - I can certainly understand why Nicol would be worried! Thanks so much for mentioning the line about Newton's Laws! A narrtor's internal analogies and metaphors are so illustrative of their world-view. I had to work hard on stripping out ones that made sense to me, and replacing them with ones that would occur to a Quaddie living in null-gee in a space station: 'at quaddies like they were unquarantined disease-carriers', 'Nicol’s view of this visit from Miles spun wildly for a moment before reorienting itself on a new vector', etc. Thanks for the detailed feedback, nick!