Bazett sighed at her servant's outstretched hand, facepalming at his eccentricity, "Clashes during the day aren't allowed unless in extremely isolated locations so no, we can't just 'strike her down' to improve the mood." The Grail War should have taught him that but he probably didn't care, she did though.. even if the overseer of the war had attempted to take her li-
"My Master, I was of the belief Kirei was the overseer observing those rules are followed through." Aston slightly tilted his head, in that case, he was even more motivated to break these rules, "Oh dear.." He put a hand near to his mouth, dragging out his words, "Are you perhaps the victim of something resembling stockholm syndrome?"
"Y..You, why can't you just be normally gentle?!" Bazett shouted at her servant, irked by the sharp nature of his words and stomped her foot on the ground, crushing blades of grass underneath.
Aston paused for a moment before continuing anyway, "My Master, if you find yourself annoyed to the point of shouting by my gentle words, I doubt you will ever find a significant other." He once again turned to look at the rising Sun, amused by their conversation.
"You did it again!" Bazett wanted to punch Aston but suddenly remembered what had happened last time and ended up flustering herself.
"Did what?" The servant seemed genuinely confused by her words, soon disregarding her and getting lost in thought. The Caster could most certainly identify him and any other servant in the war for that matter so needlessly prowling around her was going to be counter-productive.. In that case, "Let us endeavour to acquire a base of operations then, my Master. I heard magi have a thing for setting up workshops."
"I don't need that." Bazett held up her hand, "My magecraft doesn't work like that, it's runic in nature." She explained truthfully, deciding to trust her servant after the trust he'd shown for her.
"Let me be blunt then, I want a proper bed and kitchen for once in my life." Aston deadpanned at his Master, he refused to do anything else unless those two things were granted to him. There had to be merit for following orders, especially ones involving war.
* * *
Bazett failed to even consciously stop the erratic twitching of her lips at her current situation. They were moving across the city of Fuyuki at an incredible rate BUT, why did he have to carry her in his arms?! The wind pressure was something that barely bothered her due to her enhanced physical prowess but it was still embarrassing.
Aston, on the other hand, had no such thoughts in his mind. He was more focused on his immediate surroundings, using the buildings all around the city as pads to jump about with his enhanced strength and speed.
Ah modernisation, such a strange thing wasn't it? Cars and trucks drove down the roads, people used phones to talk with others perhaps miles away as they walked to their peaceful daily jobs. An era he'd all but forgotten now and would definitely need time to get used to again after constant conflict, battle and when not that, training or teaching.
The Lancer was rudely dragged out of his idle musings by a projectile speeding through the air, aimed right for his chest. A good move, the chances of hitting the head were much lower after all.
Aston let go of Bazett, shocking her and twisted his body to the side midair to avoid it,
"Found you."
He summoned his spear in his right hand and spun around before throwing it in the general direction the attack had come from.
He had done all that at a speed that allowed him to drop down and once again grab his Master before she even remotely neared the ground, "I do apologise, we were attacked." He spoke sheepishly and didn't get a young girl-like reaction for his actions.
Bazett was more than used to irrational situations with her job as an Enforcer that hunted down undesirables and only sighed, "A warning next time would be great, Lancer."
"Duly noted, my Master."
Aston moved to the rooftop of a nearby building, this time calmly setting Bazett down and peering off into the distance, "No mid-day battles, it must've been a bird that decided it was going to eat armour." The sarcasm in his voice was almost tangible. Rules were made to be broken, this was a prime example of that.
"I think that was a warning shot." Bazett spoke thoughtfully, a hand on her chin, "Otherwise, a single shot from a plausibly Archer class servant doesn't make sense." The Enforcer didn't know her own servant had counterattacked in the same moment he'd dodged, leaving a certain someone a few miles away from them slightly astounded and inches away from taking a spear that had blown past the sound barrier to the face only narrowly avoiding it and seeing it rip open a crater in the forest behind him.
Aston sat down at the edge of the building and smiled, "It could've been a saber, my Master. And, I do believe mine was the warning shot." The servant held up a finger, speaking tentatively. The unknown servant wouldn't be attacking them again, for some time at least.
"Oh right." Bazett slowly nodded, Aston's agility parameter was completely absurd, she should have expected he'd react, "Did you actually identify the servant?"
"My apologies, my Master. I am not the one with access to any knowledge I want, it is rather hard to investigate history when all books are hogged up by nobility." He somewhat wanted to give chase, fell at least one servant today to shout to the world his presence as knight but understood that was completely stupid.
"You're enjoying this aren't you?" He was weird, he was weird about words.
"I wouldn't dream of it, my Master. That would mean ridiculing someone who has spent their days without friends." Aston nodded as if he were proud of himself for that, which he was. But for now, he wanted to cook. The Lancer was confident he even had a personal skill pertaining to that thanks to his King's voracious appetite.
"Y.. I don't even care anymore." Bazett didn't have the energy to deal with his verbal onslaught. She nudged him with her hand, "Let's go, find a base of operations like you wanted." The fact that her servant was a top class one was undeniable, she could allow this much at least if she expected him to fight with his life on the line.
* * *
"Wow, my Master. Were you perhaps incredibly rich?"
Aston walked about the top floor suite Bazett had rented out with eyes shining under his helmet. How could he not be excited? Windows that gave a view to the city below, allowing them to gaze at the common folk like they were rabble.
Tiled floors, perfect lighting, even an indoor pool right outside the lounge, WHICH had furnished expensive furniture, neat and tidy seating arrangements with a sizable LCD attached to the white coloured wall, right next to the sofas a short distance away from the table set up for eating.
"Life would be so much easier if you weren't in your armour so much.." Bazett sighed, sitting down on one of the sofas to relax after a hectic day, "But, do you like it?" She smiled at the bout of immaturity from the servant who had probably had a pretty hard life now that she thought about it. She would be nicer IF he didn't embarrass her in front of everyone by following her around in dark armour, did he have a complex about his face or something?
"Your scar isn't ugly, if that's what worries you."
Aston stared at his Master incredulously, "My Master, I am deeply offended you think I would care about such a thing." He was just more comfortable in armour, that was all there was to it, really, "Would you mind if I prepared something?"
"I doubt there's any ingredients but, break a leg." Bazett shrugged, positioning herself to get a short nap right there on the couch.
"I would rather not break my leg, my speed is my greatest weapon." Aston politely refused the order, changing to his more normal attire and staring down at his Master with a hand held out, "Money, I require monetary assistance, my Master."
"Really.. I had a very different image of fighting a grail war." Bazett remarked, handing over her credit card to the servant. Was he really good at cooking? She dozed off before the question could be answered, leaving a knight from the dark ages to his own devices.
When she woke up, Bazett found a dish she was rather familiar with smoking on the table next to her. It was mashed potatoes made with good milk, butter and scallions (spring onions), what the Irish called Champ, prepared with alcohol she was sure she'd never seen before. The smell alone was enough to make the Enforcer salivate, reminded of her childhood but at the same time somewhat scared, what was this going to do to her taste buds?
"Well, go ahead." Aston was standing against the wall with his arms folded, smiling gently at his entranced master. To sate his king and to break through her cold exterior, good food was an imperative skill.. That and it was fun to serve Lancelot bread after telling the man he'd cook for him.
Ah, Mordred shared her appetite too.
Besides, it's not like there was much to do in his era, cooking was a hobby. Aston was offended his food was only given a small mention in the article about his legend.
He hoped the food would distract his Master from the disaster in the kitchen. He knew it worked when the woman forgot her strict demeanour and waged war on the food.
* * *
Any feedback for a newbie?