how still lies the bay in the light western airs which blow from the crimson horizon

[slaying]

Who: seventeensir & slaying
What: incidental chatting, yo.
When: the morning of september 21st
Where: down in kokomoat the beach!
Summary: buffy's still staying out at the shore; horatio has a reason to go to the shore. things coincide.
Rating: p for propriety

Comments

[seventeensir]

Captain Horatio Hornblower stood in the sand, looking out to sea. His boots were just barely before the water line of the waves swooping in then dashing out. A few feet further away, safe in case one came in too far, was his ordinary journal and a pen.

He'd spent almost all of the dawn writing, working on something that was probably frivolous, but it made him feel better. It made him feel some connection with home, something further than Kennedy's presence and Aubrey's, yet it also made him aware of how very far he was away.

At the present, the Navy man had his eyes closed, enjoying the breeze that came off the water. He looked, at least in that instant, peaceful.

[slaying]

It was early and therefore a little chilly. The sun hadn't quite had the heart to warm the shore, yet. Buffy was dressed in easy layers. A tank top under a long-sleeved shirt under a cardigan. A light, loose shawl was wrapped gently over that. And jeans, of course. The girl loved her denim.

She slurped coffee quietly as she approached the figure -- easily recognizable at a certain distance as Archie Kennedy's captain. "Morning. Good morning, in point of fact." Buffy called out her greeting from a respectful distance away.

[seventeensir]

He knew he knew the voice. However, it took him a moment to leave the Portsmouth dock, to leave the quarterdeck of the Hotspur. When he opened his eyes and looked over, recognition dawned, and he ducked his head. His hand raised as if to touch his hat. Which he still did not have.

"Miss Buffy. Good morning." Polite but not cold. Warmer, in fact, that his voice usually was. Somewhat at east.

[slaying]

A smile. She took another fair gulp of java and seemed to choke it down. It wasn't near as milky or as sugary as she would have liked but one had to make do out at Jack Sparrow's house. She had only allowed herself a fraction of what she would normally take her drink with.

"A little far from home, huh?"

So was she, but never mind that.

"O-or even closer, depending on how you want to look at it."