"Miles and I are planning to get married again, Barrayaran ceremony groats and all, and I wondered if you'd be my Second."
"Alas, tragically wasted on me." Kisses! "I really need to go, though, I'm supposed to be off the planet in two hours. Duty calls. Love you."
So he progresses his way right back out to the Dendarii, to interfere in a hostage standoff that has been dragging on in a little backwater a few jumps from Komarr. After almost a month, the hostage-takers - a small but enthusiastic protest group very interested in the preservation of the planet's toxic and hostile native wildlife - are nearly as sick of this as everyone else, and seem almost grateful to have the miscellaneous group of foreign delegates and transients rescued out from under them. The Dendarii take payment aboveboard from the local government, and a secret bonus from Barrayar for the unharmed return of a couple of ImpSec agents who happened to be passing through undercover at the time of the initial incident. Miles returns to Barrayar a little less than three weeks after he left it, feeling very pleased with himself.
"Hi, Miles, it's me," says the message. "I'm fine, first of all, but thought you'd want to know whenever you got back rather than hearing it weeks later whenever it came up over breakfast if you're gone for months and I forget about it - anyway, somebody tried to get at me. Bylinkin stopped him before he'd managed to do more than pull my hair, he's been arrested, and I'm fine. As of this writing I'm on my way home. Hope your mission went well, I love you!"
The message is timestamped half an hour ago. She's probably still on her way home.
Miles... also heads home. He contemplates sending a return message, but decides that his considerable frazzlement over someone having managed to pull her hair would probably result in an unacceptable ratio of blithering to actual content.
"Miles!" she says when she spots him, and she speeds up. "You're home! I was expecting you gone longer."
"It was a short mission. Are you - still fine? That's a moderately stupid question, I'm sorry. Can I braid your hair?"
"Of course you can." Mindful of Bylinkin's presence, she dips to kiss him rather than scooping. "I'm - shaken up but unhurt."
"Let's go up to our rooms and I'll braid your hair and cuddle you," he suggests. (And she can scoop him up unimpeded by an audience.)
They shed Bylinkin once safely past the threshold - Linya pauses to thank him again - and up they go.
She scoops him when they are in their room. Scoops and hugs.
"I love you," he says, snuggling her. "I'm sorry my planet is full of idiots. Who do things like pull your hair. I'm probably unreasonably offended about that part."
"I love you too, and yes you probably are. He neither broke nor extracted any hairs that I noticed. Bylinkin was very quick and my hair is tough stuff," Linya says. "They may be slightly pinched but will smooth out in a couple of days."
"Good." He pets her hasty braid and cuddles her some more. "I'll just continue being unreasonably offended, then."
"You're adorable." She sighs. "The fellow was, inconveniently, not a student, but a professor. With tenure."
"Bugger. Is he going to make your life difficult? Does he teach any of your classes?"
"No, none of mine, he was guest-lecturing for the physics course but it was a one-off or I imagine he'd have made his displeasure known before today."
"Yes. I'm glad I didn't become complacent about going accompanied outside the house," she sighs.
"He didn't have a weapon on him. Even if I'd been alone I think I could have gotten him off of me before he did any damage, although I don't think I could have managed it as elegantly as Bylinkin."
Linya nods. She gives Miles another snuggle and another kiss and then lets him go so he can see to the care of her abused hair.
He brushes the hair. He pets the hair. He braids the hair - a five-stranded French rope braid that spins elegantly down her back. He pets the hair again. And then he sits in Linya's lap and kisses her.