#( becker. )

[snowbaron]

savage & snow;; a playlist

work song hozier // mad mad world reeve carney // gimme shelter the rolling stones // crazy on you heart // we belong pat benatar // buddy holly weezer // killer queen queen // wild horses bishop briggs // francis forever mitski // we all fall in love sometimes  coldplay // shallow lady gaga and bradley cooper // all night beyonce // broken crown mumford and sons // annie’s song john denver // i am weary (let me rest) the cox family

{ listen. }

[snowbaron]

8pm exactly, march 16th, the savage residence // @savagebecker​

She’s starting to get used to having other things besides work to think about, to care about. Even with everything going on with Appius, and with Marleigh, or maybe because of all of that, she finds herself actually wanting to take pauses, steal the moments to breathe, to relax in a way she never really allows herself, when they’re offered. And she couldn’t be more pleased to be offered all of that with Becker. It had been a startling realization a few weeks ago, to understand exactly what she wanted with him, startling in that it had made total sense, when she thought about it. Just in the way that it had made sense when they had come back from Scotland to follow those instincts, to take what she wanted, and give what she wanted to give, too. All of it did. 

Maybe it should feel stranger, when she hasn’t done anything like this in years, and even then maybe nothing quite the same as this anyway. But no part of it feels strange, or off, or wrong, it all just fits. Actually it feels a whole lot better than anything she’s ever found in that regard. It’s easy to be with Becker, and it feels like the sort of thing she needs. He’s the sort of thing that she needs. Or maybe, wants, rather. Even if nothing had changed, after that one night, she would have gotten along okay, and it would’ve been fine. But she would’ve wanted more, would’ve been tempted to try to take it. It’s a nice feeling, to have something that she wants, purely selfishly. And she thinks Becker rather likes it, too.

So she’s looking forward to dinner, just as she always looks forward to nights with him. Arrives exactly on time, knocks on the door at eight on the dot. The smile that slips across her lips when he opens the door is easy, genuine.

“I was promised a lovely dinner cooked by an Inspector Becker Savage, or am I in the wrong place?” she says, teasing lightly.

[savagexcamden]

[Incoming Telekit Message] Inspector Becker Savage: I understand you have no control over Benjamin's actions, and yet I still had to hear about it from the loud-mouthed Mountain Squad cadet and not my own brother.

I was hoping it wouldn’t be a problem at all. And if there are vampires in there, I’m not going to let it become a problem, so I didn’t want your worry. Next time I’m sent on a vampire case with one of our estranged family members, I’ll let you know first so you can scold me for it in person before we leave. You’re right, more efficient that way than doing it like this.

[savagexcamden]

[Incoming Telekit Message] Inspector Becker Savage: Were you planning on telling me you were taking my son into a nest of vampires or did you get *distracted* again?

I’m so sorry, Becker, I shouldn’t have assigned myself to this case and chosen him as my partner. Oh wait... 

[a minute later]

There was nothing to tell you yet, because there’s no way to know that’s actually what we’re walking into. Believe me, I tried to get him to give the case up, but he’s inherited your heroic stubbornness. 

[snowbaron]

[ a notecard left on Baron's desk, afternoon, March 16 ] If you aren't otherwise occupied this evening, I'd love to have you over for dinner. Let me know if you're free. —B

[ a floral sticky note, left on Becker’s desk while he’s up ] I think I can manage to be free, that sounds nice. I’ll be over at 8. –– ❄️

[edenblue]

[Incoming Telekit Message] Inspector Becker Savage: Cassandra and I could use your expertise on the Tarot Card Killer case. Can you meet us in the empty conference room in about twenty minutes?

Da, I will meet you both there. I am not certain I am an expert, but I will do my best to aid you in any way that I might.

[savagexcamden]

early afternoon, the day after the scotland mission, the savage residence // @savagebecker​

It’s an odd and new feeling, the lack of guilt from something only days ago might’ve destroyed him with it, but a deep, unsettled guilt for something entirely different in its place, something that, conversely, he wouldn’t have thought he would do only a few days ago, too. The world had been flipped on its head in a night, accidentally, but wholly. And he finds he doesn’t regret that. No, he regrets that it happened when it did, when he had other things he should have been focused on. The guilt had come with the strange feeling of being suddenly and completely hungover, after decades without knowing that was something he could still feel. It had come with a much too late noticed telekit message, one that, had he not been so thoroughly wrapped up in the unplanned, he would have spent the whole night waiting for. 

It came with knowing exactly how Becker had likely reacted to that, first worry, another thing to plague his mind after so much already, and then the same sort of disappointed exasperation that he had seen on his face when they’d talked about Liv the last time. But likely worse, much worse. Because it was Camden who had made such a big deal of him going, asking him to stay behind, terrified of what might happen to him without him there by his side, and then he hadn’t even been home to make certain he had made it through.

The guilt turns his stomach in the same way the odd feeling of a blood hangover does. And so it’s easier to fall into old habits. Since he got back home, they’ve been doing something they haven’t done in a long time, but used to be a regularity, two brothers so wholly opposite in so many ways; ignoring each other. It’s the sort of petty, utterly juvenile thing that had been regular when they were younger, over stupid arguments. They go hours without speaking until one of them cracks. And it’s never Becker. So when he can’t bear the silence any longer, can’t bear the guilt, he find him sitting downstairs in their rarely used living room, because, of course he is, of course he knew Camden would be the one to break the silence here, giving him that chance by sitting out in the open.

“Beck... I’m sorry... I know I should’ve been here, I meant to be here, but...” he trails off, not wanting to explain why he wasn’t, yet, when he’s certain Becker knows well enough.

“Are you alright?”