I Will Come Again In Spring, When Harvest Can Begin (T)

It was early in the morning but Farren was already hard at work. As was customary she was signing birthday cards for all the August birthdays in the company. Despite what some may have thought of them the family prided themselves on being a good company to work for. Attached to each card was a check for fifteen galleons for entry and midlevel employees, twenty five for upper levels. She was only half dressed but at least she'd bathed though her hair was still a mess, wavy and untamed after her bath.

She'd put on one of her records and was feeling rather chipper for a Tuesday of simple tasks. It was a beautiful day outside, a respite from recent rain, and for some reason she just felt happy. Maybe once she finished all this she'd go for a ride or call on poor Moira stuck at home with the baby.

As she wrote her parlor doors were opened and her house elf, Prissy, followed by her Lady's Maid, Mrs. Sedley, waltzed into the room. "You"re going to have a guest for breakfast. Put something on," her maid said in a tone that was more like a mother's than a maids.

Farren set her quill down and looked at them with a furrowed brow, "Who is it?" she asked. It was most abnormal to have a breakfast guest.

"Mr. Abercrombie," her maid answered flatly walking into her bedroom to prepare to dress her mistress.

Nodding Farren got up from her desk and followed her servants into her bedroom. "Nothing too fancy then for father," she said mostly to herself heading into her closet. She emerged with a white silk dress. Long and sleeveless with a matching belt around the waist, it was simple but elegant. The maid dressed her and draped an heirloom necklace around her neck. Farren moved to her vanity and decided her father didn't care if her hair was unruly and natural so she put on a gold leaf head band and as her maid put a simple pair of gold earrings in her ears she swiped on a thin layer of red lip gloss and dabbed on mascara.

"You'll eat in the garden, lovely out today," the maid said adjusting the wavy locks of hair falling around her shoulders.

Farren shrugged and when the woman was finished stood up and walked from the room. Together she and her servants made their way through the long dark halls towards the garden in the back. Her bare feet padded lightly against the cold marble and despite her elves attempts she refused to put on shoes on such a day for such a short trip. It was informal afterall. Pausing by the back door to the garden Farren glanced at her reflection in the window.

"Mrs. Sedley....." she said leaning forward wondering if she was starting to see dark bags under her eyes, "What's the meaning of this. I thought father had a trade summit to attend?"

Her maid narrowed her eyes and looked at Farren for a moment. "Yes Miss, he does," she said matter of factly, "But I suspect this breakfast is for Mr. Abercrombie's return from Paris after all these months."

Farren stared at the woman and slowly it dawned on her what was happening. Her eyes widened in horror as her mouth dropped open. "T! It's T! Mr. Terrence Abercrombie?!" she huffed angrily at the maid and pushed her aside so she could look in the mirror hanging on the wall. "Why didn't you just SAY that?" She hissed scowling at her reflection. "All these ridiculous pretenses, for Merlin's sake! You changed our diapers don't go calling him Mr. Abercrombie now just because he's grown. Or just because he's Mr. Debonaire now with French ladies falling all over him. Or just because he suddenly was named Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor for fall," Farren was obsessively trying to alter her hair in her reflection as she hissed at her maid who stood by her stone faced as ever.

Sighing she stood upright and looked at her maid. "Did you do this on purpose?" She asked her lips pursed.

At her feet her house elf dissolved into giggles and her maid raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Most eligible bachelor of the fall you say? He is Mr. Abercrombie as well," with a smirk she and the elf turned their backs to her heading back towards the main house.

Sighing heavily Farren shook her head and pulled the back door open forcefully. She strode slowly but purposefully towards the garden and suddenly was very worried about how all of this would appear. Looking like she was some etheral goddess just rolled out of bed and out onto the lawn for a meal. She told herself that it didn't matter. It was just Terrence he'd certainly seen her in better and much worse states. Following the flagstone path through the garden she made her way to where the table was to find much to her chagrin that it was empty.

Naturally. Terrence was late. Late for something he had probably invited himself to. Scowling she marched over to the table to see if it was in fact set for two. It was, beautifully so with the best crystal they had for an outdoor seating. There was a bottle of champagne on ice, no doubt juice would follow. Huffing in annoyance at it all she waved her hand uncorking the wine magically while she grabbed a crystal flute off the table. She filled her glass and left the bottle on the table.

If he was going to be late he could come and find her. At least he should have to work for the pleasure to see her. Maybe they'd delay the meal and mess up the servants schedule which would serve them right for tricking her like this. A sip of the tart sparkling liquid acted to calm her immediately. The flute balanced between her fingers she stood by the table debating for a moment before she turned and headed through the archway into the garden. Every few steps she took another sip and with each little sip grew happier.

It had been far too long since she'd seen her dear cousin. He was afterall her closest friend now. They were dangerously close, which was why her maids teased her so. For sometime now the family had turned a blind eye to their abnormally close relationship. No one had questioned why in the months after her mother's death the cousins woke up side by side more often than not. No one questioned why when he called on her at home bottles after bottle of liquor disappeared into her parlor and they never came out. Long before all that no one had ever bothered to wonder why a growing boy was so close to his baby girl cousin. It seemed a happy enough event that two young Abercrombies were getting on and the family nor Farren never put much thought into it.

She found herself under a tree, her feet hidden by the tall grass around her and she crossed the grassy spot to a swing hanging from the lowest branch. Glass in hand she pulled herself up onto the swing and began to push herself slowly with her feet as she sipped on the champagne. There were of course many things about Terrence she didn't want to think about. His popularity with girls, how everyone fancied him to be married to a great catch, or the eagerness in young girl's faces when they saw Farren show up at a social event, knowing he would be but a few paces behind her somewhere. None of that was pleasant for some reason.

What was pleasant was all the time they spent in private. The discussions, the laughter, the games and booze. There were other things too and try as she might she could not push them from her mind or ease the tinge of curiosity they ignited in her. They were not things one spoke of in mixed company or even at all when they pertained to ones own family relation. Those memories and curiosities were her most carefully guarded secret and even now, waiting for him, she tried to suppress them though a wave of warmth washed over her the moment her mind began to wander.

Needing a distraction she downed the rest of her champagne and set the glass in the grass. Her toes were grazing the top of the grass as she glided slowly, low over the lawn. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, "I will not think about that. I will NOT think about THAT," she growled at herself in her head. Pressing her feet into the grass she pushed off, propelling the swing into motion, she folded and unfolded her legs rhythmically until she was moving fast enough to glide through the air without pumping. Her hands grasped the ropes on either side of her as she repeated over and over to herself, "I will not think about that. I will not think about that. I will not think about that."

Opening her eyes she looked up at the sky, the warm blue speckled with green leaves between her and the clouds that flew by quickly as her swing glided through the air. The air moved through her hair and sent her silk dress flowing out behind her like she was flying. A smile crept across her features and at that moment she thought about that. Strong hands on her fragile frame, a muscled torso against hers, the brush of a scruffy cheek against hers and the heat of hungry, anxious lips against her. She gasped and snapped her eye closed again planting her feet on the ground to stop the swing immediately, the force of her body was no match for her firmly planted feet and she flew off the swing, stumbling a few steps forward before falling to the grass in a pool of white silk skirt, laughing at herself. "I will NOT think about THAT!" she demanded of herself laughing as her head fell back onto the soft grass, her arms folded behind it all too happy to be in this bizarre situation.

He lay staring up at his ceiling, journal
open on his chest quill in hand, thinking.
He knew he would have to see her that
much was very certain in fact. He had
always come back from long trips going to
her to tell her of the things he'd done. It
would cause whispered words if he didn't
see her, at least he felt it would. His mind
slowly drifted back to Paris, and its
warmth. The city had won over his heart
before he realized what was happening.
But now he was home. There was no more
bars and reckless behavior. Now he had to
clean up his act, the years of old were over.
He was to be mature and carry himself as
such. Slowly he shifted to stand, running
his thumbs over his suspenders before
combing his hair in the mirror.

His eyes dropped to his watch, he was late.
Hmmm time had really flown by as he lay
there thinking of her. Trying to keep his
mind away from the thoughts of gentle
touches, playful kisses and laughter. He
tried to stray from the thoughts of her
hands in his hair, because those were
thoughts he should not be having. Clearing
his throat softly he called out to tell his
mother he was leaving, before the floor
vanished beneath his feet. He left as if the
walls were closing in on him before he felt
the ground beneath his feet once more.
Blue eyes roamed around him as he
walked towards the house, bypassing the
door to head straight for the garden. The
soft sound of the grass falling under his
shoe barely touching his ears as his hand
rose to run through his hair. As he neared
the table he paused, turning to look back at
the house for a long moment, before
turning to walk over and stand next to the
table. She'd been there a couple of things
were missing. His eyes drifted to the
archway and memories flooded his mind
of his years here.

All the laughter and playfulness. Stepping
away from the table he walked somewhat
slowly through the archway, not bothering
to lift his eyes from his shoes. This path
was so familiar, he could walk it with his
eyes closed. His mind drifted to the talks
he’d had with his mother upon his return.
He spoke to her f his fears and doubts of
his future. He expressed his own concerns
with his feelings. Feelings he had thought
had left when he wrote the letter that
rested in his back pocket. His eyes rose
slowly and he stopped, watching her for a
moment. She looked at peace as she
swung, innocent. His hands slid into his
pockets slowly as he took a steady step
towards her. This was Farren, there was no
need to be weird. Maybe it had been the
distance, the time apart that gave him the
uncertain feelings that surrounded him.
Maybe he knew he couldn’t fight how he
felt and was thinking of just telling her.
Maybe he was thinking entirely too much.

He moved a bit faster as he saw her fall
before pausing to watch her from a
distance. She looked happy, free. “Will not
think about what?” Closing the short
distance between them, he moved to drop
down next to her lazily. “You were
supposed to be at the table, you know. But
I guess I can let this go since you seem to
be in a very good mood.” His hand moved
to touch her hair softly. “How have you
been? There anything exciting going on I
need to know about?” His gaze shifted to
land on her face as he gave her a smile.
“You look nice by the way.” His head
inclined towards the swing. “Having fun?
Or did you need a push?” Something
simple and innocent was what he needed.
He needed to think of all good things, to
remember all things innocent. He had to
think about his talk with his mom, with
Jessica, hell with the bar tender at his
favorite bar. “I’ve never been so happy to
be home then I am now. Paris is a beautiful
place, but I think I overstayed my
welcome...” He vaguely remembered being
slapped in a few too many bars by various
women he had slept with and never
contacted.

“I missed home a lot…you and my mom
stayed on my mind constantly.” Each for
different reasons. He shifted to look up at
the sky. “Besides I had seen and done all I
could in one place for so long. I figure I
need to come home and grow up so to
speak. Orin will be proud.” He spoke of his
father as if he was some guy he’d met on
the street. The two had not been seeing
eye to eye, mostly when it concerned the
woman before him. Whereas Terrence was
unsure about his feelings, his father
pushed him to explore them. It was his
hope that Terrence could save him from
being an outcast. What he didn’t know was
that Terrence really didn’t care. He loved
his family, but really if they didn’t like him
or want to be around him why cry over it.
He was a man and as a man he had to
know that people would not always like or
agree with the things he said or did. He
knew that each of his choices could
possibly affect more than him. “I figured I
could surprise you with a nice lunch and
some catch up talking….but it looks like
drinks and talking instead. Is that okay
with you?” His eyes drifted to her lips for a
moment before once more resting on her
eyes, giving her a sweet smile. If only she
knew.

Ren looked up to see Mr. Abercrombie approaching through the garden. He looked as suave as ever in a clean white shirt and his usual tailored trousers. A slight smile crossed Her lipswhen he asked what she could not think about. Luckily he asked another question but just as quickly and she could ignore the first.

She turned her attention back to the sky and smirked to herself about the situation.  As he reached out to her she slid closer towards him but didn't touch him. "I am in a good mood,"she said simply and smiled at him quickly then looked back up at the sky.

He seemed very chatty today. Usually he was so relaxed and him laying contently next to her in the grass wad nor enough to fool her. Something was occupyinghis mind and bringing forth all these rapid fire questions. However she wag always coy and mostly ignored the questions and just listened.

Rising slowly from the ground she stood and picked up the champagne bottle and glass. "Well I didn't dress for you," she said almost haughtily, "the maid told me that Mr. Abercrombie was coming. I thought she meant my father. " grinning she refilled Her glass before passing the bottle back to him.

She slowly walked the few paces between her and her swing and
carefully sat down on the wood plank. "Many things are happening," she said evasivly but it didn't matter,he was already chatting about something else.

Perching on hey swing she took slow sips from Her glass as he talked about returning home. He like she was prone to escapism.  Running from all of life's problems until they were so drastic they had to be addressed. Maybe that was why they'd always understood each other. He seemed different though. Something had changed and yet it seemed good.

As he spoke she watched him intently enjoying how she remembered everything about him from the way he'd smelled to the way his mouth formed words and the tone of his voice. For all the stress the family had endured lately she wad glad to have her ally home. He'd been gone too long. Now that he wad back she wondered how she'd made it for the last few months without him.

During the war, when he'd been  allowed to visit her were the only times she'd felt at all alive. Their joking and playful games had been her only solace in isolation. When her mother had died he'd been the first one to her side. He'd stayed with her, never faltering through all the sleepless nights spent either crying or in family meetings. He'd spent countless hours just sitting with her in silence out on the moor or hidden away in some corner of the cavernous house. When she'd cried he'd dried her tears, when she needed an accomplice he was by her side, when she was too beside herself to function he was her voice. Just thinking about their deep relationship warmed her.

As for him leaving as she'd began to rebound from the war,she didn't give it much thought. He was her best friend and ally and distantly her blood.  Nothing would keep him away forever.  Taking a long sip of hey champagne she smiled overt the rim of her glass at him.

She let the swing twist, the two ropes crossing around each other until she lifted get feet from the ground and let it spin.  laughing as the swing spun her in a dizzying circle she playfully scolded him.

"Terrence! I did not spend ten minutes preparing for a walk.  It's brunch time. We shall dine like the civilized souls we are. Then we can get drunk out on the moor for old times sake. " The swing spun slowly, half a circle one direction then snapped back half a circle in the other direction. She was smiling at him and it was obvious she was happier than she'd been in a while.

"Surely they still eat brunch in Paris don't they? We may not habe crepes but I'm sure the elves have put together a proper English something for you," she held out her hand to him and gave him puppy dog eyes knowing he'd already agree to all her demands anyways. "I missed you so my Teddy...I don't like it when you're so far away."

He had a choice to make, one in which he hoped he would never consider. Yet, the more he thought about how he felt it became clear that he would have to tell her at some point. Dread of her reaction ran through his body, he could only imagine the look that would cross her face. Blue eyes drifted to her as she rested on the swing, seemingly enjoying the simple things in life in that moment. She looked happy and free. As if the events of the past had not hurt her in any way. She looked at peace and he had to admit it was a comforting sight to see. Shifting his body he sat up to rest his hands on the grass beside him. How would he explain that his love for her transcended whatever she thought in her mind? How could he tell her that he wanted her in more ways than he thought was acceptable?

How would she take his words? His only worry was I fact how she might take what he had to say and what would result because of his declaration. “Food it is, no need to be forceful.” His voice was light, as he rose to his feet. Absently he brushed off his pants and straightened his clothes. Thumbs hooked in his suspenders, pulling them from his body a little to allow his hands to slide along their length. His eyes dropped to her hand for a second before he reached out to take it. It had been so long since he’d seen her that the feel of her touch had been lost on him. But there they were standing in the middle of the grass near a swing hand in hand. He gave a slight smile before laughing a little.

“Surprisingly, Paris did very little to change me. It made me miss home, which is weird is it not? Beautiful city and tons of willing women and all I could think about was you and my mother. Shame I didn’t explore more.” He shifted to pull her towards him, right into his chest for a hug. “This is how we welcome people home, don’t tell me time inside has destroyed your social graces…that would be a shame Ren.” Maybe a hug had been a bad idea, a very bad idea. Her scent evaded his brain, the warmth of her body felt like fire. Stepping back he leaned to pick up the bottle before walking towards the archway again. His free hand reached back to make sure his letter had not fallen while he had been on the ground. It was then that the thought entered his mind. How better to tell her how he felt then in the letter he had written her. 365 pages of emotion resting in his back pocket, heavy as his heart.

He pulled the rolled letter from his pocket looking at it before holding it out to her. “You’re not allowed to open this until you’re alone, okay?” He held it out of her reach as he asked his question because he knew her. He knew her curiosity would take over and she would open it and he would have no way of preparing for that. But if he was gone and she opened the letter he would have distance between them and there would be time as well. There would be time for her to think, time for him to wonder; time for them to just be without the presence of the other with the truth floating through the air. “Not a second earlier. When I say alone I mean in your room or something actually alone.” He arched a brow as he explained, walking through the archway looking out at the house.

His gaze stayed ahead of him for a moment before he sighed softly. This was going to be an interesting day indeed. “So what are we having anyway, I never asked.” Food was the last thing on his mind, but hell why not start some innocent conversation while he was still in the mood to talk. He knew soon they would be drunk and laughing.

Farren rolled her eyes at the comment about Paris and it's willing women. Terrence's only real fault in her eyes was his near constant womanizing. As long as she could remember he'd dated his school mate Jessica. The girl was perfectly adequate but Ren knew so little about her she'd hardly noticed when Terr had dumped the girl. In fact now that she thought about it she realized that while he'd dated that girl, all those years, an inappropriate thing or two might have occurred.

Farren always viewed him as a protector...a guide to the things in life she'd never faced but was nervous about and never put much thought into their inappropriate drunken dalliances. Now though she wondered for a moment if she too was just part of his womanizing habit. Not that she'd ever been part of an affair per say but there were drunken moments, more than one, that made her wonder where Jessica had played into his choices and if maybe she was not the only one. It dawned on her that up until now she'd never considered Jessica or the fact that their foolish drunken mischief might, would be hurtful to a girlfriend and strangely she just now wondered if he did such things with others or if she was the only one. Maybe she'd just assumed she was the only one all this time...well apart from the girl friend. The memories she so conveniently forgot out of shame were easier to remember when he was so close. A party and a cold winter terrace all alone. Side by side they'd shared a cigarette and bemoaned the company. He had moved in on her like a trained hunter going in for a kill. Drunken teenagers at a party often had such encounters his mouth on her smooth exposed skin, her back to the wall as his lips slid over her diamond clad neck. Biting the inside of her cheek she blinking, forcing the thought from her mind. It was all so stupid really he was her cousin and while they may take advantage of their drunken desires on occasion it was surely all harmless and surely....he didn't really do that with as many women as he claimed. Her thoughts were so loud she barely caught him say that he'd spend the trip thinking of her and his mother and she scoffed rolling her eyes at him dramatically, "Oh T....I'm sure you explored quite enough." She was teasing but now her mind was stuck on this thing.



It was so easy to forget it when he was gone but now that he was here bringing up women a tinge of shameful guilt was picking at her mind. She was trying to suppress the memories as drunk, teenage debauchery but now she was truly curious. Did he talk to his French girls about her?  Did he tell anyone about their secrets? Were they secrets because clearly the fact that he caroused with any woman he could find was not so was she? Was she just a number? Part of a game of endless self gratification? Before she could debate more he'd swept her up into a tight hug. She smiled and cooed as if he was squeezing her too hard but he'd know her little verbal protest was a joke. How to greet someone eh? Mustering up a little laugh she hugged him tightly letting her head rest lightly against his chest for a moment before he stepped away and pulled something from his back pocket. A thick roll of papers that must have been magically fit into his pocket was produced but it didn't look much like anything she'd expect from him. Eyeing the parchment she paused in her tracks.



When he offered it to her she eagerly reached out for it only to scowl as he pulled it away playfully. "Hmmmph," she protested arching her eyebrow at him sassily as he explained the terms of the package to her. Immediately she decided she'd pretend to have to go to the loo or run in the house and investigate what it was but he quashed that idea with his 'truly alone' clause. Grabbing the thick roll of papers from his hand she scoffed, "Fine. I'll make your novel my bedtime story," she said glancing at it before tucking it under her arm. Making their way back to the table almost she shrugged and thought about their menu for a moment. "Well brunch I assume, it's a full breakfast I'm sure to save you from that awful continental breakfast. Bacon, eggs, sausage, toast, beans, you know just a few things and twelve flavors of jam."

Grinning she pulled away from him to trot over to the table. An elf was waiting for her and she quickly handed off her mysterious manuscript to her so it could be properly located to her room. "I know it's not croissants," she said gesturing to the impressive spread, "and I know I'm not a French club girl letting you lick jam off her naked body but hopefully a simple taste of home is enough to make up for any lost exploring?"