#and oof ben and david have the whole ''i'll m.urder him'' thing in common

[honorhearted]

Unable to help it, Benjamin chuckled. "I can assure you, sir, my own best friend is of the 'vivid' and 'loud' sort, so you needn't shield me nor my sensibilities..." He grinned. "Of course, every now and then it would be appreciated."

Initially, Benjamin feared he'd made a fatal error in calling Emma dutiful in following the rules -- she was certainly capable, he knew, but quite free-spirited -- yet the banter that followed thawed any such apprehension and he smiled, looking away. "Perhaps I should amend that to say she graciously considers all rules," he quipped. "Your daughter will give her opinion, if she believes we're in the wrong -- something that's welcomed, of course -- but she's also a team player. What's best for the colonies is by what she ultimately abides."

All at once, relief speared through Benjamin upon receiving David's clear approval. As a boy, he'd certainly held infatuations for a few girls in town, and had even spoken to their fathers -- everyone knew everyone in Setauket -- yet this was the first time he'd attempted to win over a stranger, and he straightened with pleasure while agreeing, "I'd be honored, sir. Thank you. And I, too, agree that distraction from the horrors of this world is key, if only to ensure proper morale...and hope." His smile softened. "I daresay many of us forgot hope until your daughter came into our lives."

Mary Margaret appraised him with interest, and Benjamin failed to notice the knowing glint to her eyes. Her talk of earning Emma's favor made him flush, and glancing between them in mounting surprise, he gave a startled laugh.

"Oh, I don't know," he deflected. "I appreciate the gesture, but truly, you're both too kind. I'm just...I-I'm trying to make this experience better for everyone. Most of these men are quite young -- boys, in fact, and I don't want them forgetting their childhoods." He shrugged, his features sobering. "I traded in my youth for a musket, and I lost the boy I once was. So if I can keep them young and happy for just a moment longer, I'd like to think I did my part."

"He has been teaching children, ma. Before the war, at least, so that's something you two share," Emma chimed in.

Sheepish, Benjamin agreed, "I suppose my earlier passions hinted at it, if nothing else...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to become so enthused. Children are...th-they are important to me. Aside from books, I can think of no greater love in my heart." Briefly, his eyes skimmed over toward Emma, though when he held her gaze for perhaps a bit too long, he ducked his eyes and smiled, idly fiddling with the saber on his belt. "What age do you teach, Your Highness? Ah..." He faltered, almost appearing embarrassed. "I'm sorry, what should I call you both? I'm afraid Emma never specified."

"Grace is a..." David hesitated, "Loyal... particular friend of Emma who has a... very vivid, loud spirit." He gave Ben a look that silently encouraged Ben to read between the lines. Emma silently laughed at what was clearly a desperate attempt not to call Grace a scoundrel, and then couldn't help but think that she hoped both Ben and her parents would realize soon that Ben was basically one of the family, and that her parents were quite uncaring about most of what was considered moral and acceptable, and that all three could truly speak freely in front of one another, like old friends did. After all, there wasn't much that Ben hadn't already witnessed from her, and she wanted her parents to know he was very important.

"You follow the rules?" - "You did what?" both her parents asked incredulously and Emma brought a hand to her chest to feign scandalized innocence. "When have I ever misbehaved at home? I have been good every single day." Mary Margaret put down the dress, "... you follow the rules?" she repeated in the same tone. "I happen not to be in charge nor responsible for anyone, the least I can do is to listen to others, so that I don't ruin the balance nor challenge the person who is, in fact, responsible for all. And I am always well-behaved. Daddy!" she turned to him, waiting for confirm. "Well, of course, you are wonderful," David loyally agreed. "David," Mary Margaret sighed, while Emma snickered again, "Be strong."

David was so pleased by what Benjamin said that he already gave him an approving pat on the back, smiling warmly, "Count me in for the duration of our visit, then, I can't think of a better way to spend time at a camp than to discuss books, and I mean every word of it: I know what awaits outside, and that makes all the more important to cling to more human activities here. We should discuss Pamela as well..."

"As for our daughter following the rules, Major," Mary Margaret added thoughtfully after a moment, "I assume it's your doing, even if books had nothing to do with keeping her entertained. Emma has always been generous with her admiration for you in her letters, I'm sure that if she was so strangely careful it was so she wouldn't make your life harder. Some people manage to be so honorable that they are worthy of her efforts, you are probably one of them." "Oh, he is," Emma said without thinking, falling straight into her mother's trap while going to look for her bottle of gin, "He's worth all of the efforts, I'd never want the General to think less of him because I decided to be childish instead." Mary Margaret shot Ben an interested look, smiling knowingly, "Yes, that makes more sense. Let's have that drink here, Major, shall we? Let's talk about books and... everything else you like that you may want to share." Her not so believably innocent expression matching the one her daughter so often sported, as she walked to the small table in the tent, and David surpassed her only to pull the chair for her and Emma. "He has been teaching children, ma. Before the war, at least, so that's something you two share." "Is that so? Not many men I know would be patient enough for that, David excluded, of course."