teaic | (no subject)

WHO: Nate and Toni
WHERE: Over the course of a few months, just about two years ago-ish.
WHEN: Over time. Backstory stuff.
WHAT: Love letters across time. Kind of. Some of this aged real well and Toni isn’t at all smug about it.
WARNINGS: N/A

My darling Nate,

I am leaving this letter for you as I leave you once again for a mission. Though my time away from you will be brief, it will be no less painful all because of the knowing you are not by my side.

However, I need to point out this is kind of on you and you should feel bad: again, I arrived at your door approximately seventeen minutes after you left on a ship, and I did use your spare key to immediately go and rearrange your furniture like a scorned poltergeist.

(I didn’t.)

(But what if I did.)

I hope your mission is treating you well and that you remain safe in the knowledge that no other preservationist is going to love you like I do, though they’re probably less likely to start an unintended revolution too so maybe it cancels out.

If the next mission runs long, you know where to leave the snack offerings.

Always arriving after you’ve gone,
Professor Antonia K. Fausti

My sweetest Antonia,

I write this letter with the heavy knowledge that you will not be there when I arrive. It seems the fates and stars align to keep us apart, but know that my affection for you never wavers or wanes. Despite the distance, I know that you are someone else’s problem, and for that, I am thankful.

I would like to point out that I sent a pigeon (a text) to let you know what time Jack and I were departing, and it is not my fault that you overslept. Again.

(If you did, remember I know where you keep your period pants and I’m not above hiding them.)

If ever you feel the temptation to fuck with the timeline, remember that I there with you in spirit, like a parasitic growth, leeching away your desire to cause chaos. The Russian Revolution was enough.

Should I be gone when you return, water my plant. It looks sad when no one talks to it.

Thinking of you fondly through the years,
Nathan Davis

My beloved Nathan,

As my life belongs to the past, you cannot expect me to have a smartphone in my hand at all times. Have you considered the art of preservationism is to sometimes, as they say in Hollywood, ‘go a bit method.’ I digress, the hours without you are cold and dark and I long to see your exasperated old face once more.

Please do send my regards to your partner; I grow ever fond of the grumpy old men who occupy the base and the sun shining a little brighter when you take your leave is less comforting than it should be. It’s a little ominous, honestly. I didn’t know pathetic fallacy was real until I moved here, although it could unfortunately just be British weather.

I would however like to fight for my honour in that technically that revolution was starting before I got there, and we managed to confirm Anastasia got out so I think it all went perfectly well.

I am feeding your plants. Alas, I am also to leave on another mission soon (Plague time, it’s going to be insane) so those poor plants will have to suffer your neglect until you also arrive home.

Which you should because I’m bored without you and you know how I get when I’m bored. Might start a second board game night.

Ever restless,
Toni F.

Antonia, light of my life,

Your sweet words as ever light the flame of desire to never return to your side. I do commend you for being ‘method’ as I know that your life’s blood is that phone and you read the message because the app tells me that.

I will inform Jack of your regards as soon as we have a moment of respite. I am writing this while in the trenches (stake out — Jack lost the coin flip), and my heart and mind are restless with trepidation for his safety. I take solace in knowing that you are safe and likely raiding my cabinets at this very moment.

I do worry for your delicate skin and the sun, so we shall endeavour to return quickly to bring back the gloom you so crave.

Not a good argument. You egged on the Bolsheviks on.

I believe we will be finishing our mission soon, so my plants will not have to wither for long. As for you, no more game nights. Seriously. The last one nearly broke out in a fist fight.

Ever vigilant,
Nate

Nate, oh darling of mine,

You wound me. The flame of desire never to return? I beat you at Catan once and this is how you treat me.

I'm glad to hear you're both alive (I assume you’re still alive, unless the boredom of the stake out kills you). I am additionally, inexplicably, still alive: thank god for the technological advances we’ve made that allow strangers to cough in my face in plaguetime with reckless abandon. They used to be so weird about gingers back in the day.

Yes, I did raid your cabinets. No, I will not apologise. If you don’t want me to find the good shit, find a better hiding place than ‘behind something expired.’ I’m going to tell your daughter this is how you live.
(Additionally, I am not sorry for the Bolsheviks thing. It needed doing.)

I’ve got one more mission next week, and then I’m taking a long awaited vacation back to Jersey. Let me know if you want anything from the inevitable Trader Joes run.

Might be too late re: the plants. They are despondent. I’ve caught them leaning dramatically toward the door, which is making me wonder if I’m watering them right.

Googling hydration levels as we speak,
Toni

Sweetest Antonia,

You cheated. That’s the only way you won and I know I can’t prove it, but you did.

We are. He is, as always, reticent. Truly, I worry for his mental state — keeping everything to himself is not healthy, and I’m literally right here for him to lean on. But we shall have already returned by the time this letter reaches you, my dearest. (Bless vaccines and med pods. For real.)

Don’t you bring Sadie into this. She must never know my most shameful secrets, else she might think less of me. Would you truly ruin the illusion of perfection that she has crafted in her mind about me? And made her cry? No, of course you wouldn’t.

The mini chocolate chip cookies and the salted caramel ice cream topping. Don’t judge me. I’m planning on a tragic movie week later this month.

Perhaps they are retaining the personality of their carer? You are quite prone to wilting dramatically, after all.

Withstanding Jack’s glare,
Nate

To my (second) favourite wrangler,

I would not be so foolish as to tarnish the sanctity of board game night. How dare you think such of me.

Oh, I know you want him to lean on you. I know you do. I would like to point out that you calling me out over Tess is becoming a real pot, kettle situation. But we’ll talk about that when we get back.

Your daughter is also too smart for any of that bullshit to take too, but apparently you’re just Saying Things now.

Duly noted on the order. You’d better hope I remember it, might wilt dramatically and have the Horrors overcome me, and then you’re not getting your damn cookies.

Playing Catan honorably,
Toni

To my (fifth) favorite preservationist,

I’ve seen you play monopoly. There is no sanctity.

What are you even talking about? Jack’s my partner. He should be able to lean on me, but he’s too damn stubborn. You and Tess are a completely different thing. You mentioned walls. The only walls of Jack’s I want in on are his metaphorical ones.

In my mind, she’s still six and I’m still perfect. Thank you very much.

I’ll tattoo it on your arm that way as you faint of the vapors, you’ll see it before you black out.

Reviving my plants,
Nate

My rotten soldier,

You’re just mad that I’ve got an additional promising career as a loan shark if this doesn’t work out for me.

Uh huh. Sure. Those metaphorical walls sure are something. What’s it like being a baby gay in your forties?

That’s a grown ass woman, Nate. She hasn’t been six for a while. But have your delusions, you’ve been cultivating them so well recently.

You’ll never take me alive.

Wearing long sleeves,
Toni

My irritating historian,

Not to derail, but you’d look good in a 20s mobster suit. You wouldn’t last, but you’d at least look good.

We’ve been over this. I’m straight. I just hate that we’ve been partners for this damn long and it still feels like he’s hiding something from me. That’s all. Nothing else.

I know that. And she already knows how I live, so ha. And I have the lecturing texts to prove it.

I know all your weaknesses. That arm is as good as mine.

Getting my tattoo gun ready,
Nate

Dear Plant Daddy,

I look damn good in a suit so I can’t contest this. Now I want to raid costumes for the next game night. I’m going to traumatise you again.

Look, if you want to kiss the guy on the mouth or talk through your big feelings? That’s your business. You have inspired me to take my ex-wife out to celebrate ‘we signed the papers and we’re divorcees’ now, so who am I to judge? You could just ask him what he’s thinking, though.

Just another good woman in your life you don’t listen to, then.

I run faster than you. :)

Sprinting,
Toni

Dearest Track Star,

Eventually, I’m going to get numb to you. Then you’ll have no power and what will you do? Lie dramatically on my couch and eat all my snacks like you already do?

Tell Tess congratulations on her divorce from me, will you? And I’m done talking about Jack with you. You make everything gay. We can’t even watch TV without you yelling at the screen for two guys or two women to kiss. Also, Buddie isn’t happening.

Don’t worry. I’ll catch you.

Watching your clown makeup become part of your face,
Nate

Bestie,

You’ll never grow numb to me. Flames of desire, bitch, I’ve got evidence.

I’ve been gay since before you could Google ‘girls kissing’, let me have this. And you take that back about my favourite fictional men. And of course I’ll tell my ex-wife you’re also pleased she’s rid of me.

Promise?

Threatened with a good time,
Toni

P.S. Brace yourself. I’m outside.