vowel-in-thug:

Allie, my love, I’m so glad I could answer this question, today of all days.

Actually you know I’ve been feeling like hell for the last few days, sick and the gray January weather and today bringing out the end times, etc etc, not to mention the closer we get to season 4, the more anxious I get.

So it was nice to retreat back into my orange world again.

set after st. augustine is that way. WARNING: gratuitous domesticity. Also this got long D: my streak of writing short things ended after two fics

“can i open my eyes yet?”

Flint was headed out into the grove at dawn when Señor Fernandez rides up around the side of the house. Flint tensed. All he had on him was a basket and a piece of hard bread, nothing to cause any real damage.  It was the middle of summer, and he was already sweating through his shirt.

Silver had been up a moment ago, but once he ate a bit of breakfast with Flint, he went back to dozing in the bedroom. The humidity of August made him act as drowsy and irritating as a pregnant cat.

“Hola, Santi,” said Fernandez.

Flint winced. Silver had started calling him that at the taberna and now everyone did it. As far as he could remember, Fernandez had never been to Flint’s orange grove. “What can I do for you, sir?”

Fernandez looked uncomfortable up on his horse. He shifted idly, swatting at a mosquito on his neck. He glanced around for a moment, and Flint realized he was searching for Silver.

“I promised Lua I would come by,” Fernandez started. “Last night, after you two left for home, a man came in. A stranger. English. He was looking for someone he couldn’t name. A man with one leg.”

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