uncertainrelation | IC Inbox

You're going to have to be honest if we're to study this properly.

[Not that she's making any efforts to pull away right now. Rosalind's back arches, her fingers smoothing idly over his suit coat. She'll linger just long enough to catch her breath, she decides, and relaxes more fully against him.]

Now: were you paying attention?

Only to your trajectory. I see the error of my ways; naturally I should have been paying attention to you.

[DOCTOR LUTECE I SEE THAT DOUBLE ENTENDRE YOU JUST DID THERE]

Shall I remedy that error now?

Naturally.

[She catches her bottom lip for a moment, making it quite obvious how precisely she'd like Robert to be paying her mind. It's been all of an hour since he kissed her; that's far too long.]

You do realize, of course, that this qualifies as a valid "catch".

[Which is actually the worst prelude to a kiss in the known universe, but it's what she gets as he leans down and indulges her.]

I was validly within five meters when I caught you.

[It's one of the least sexy things he's ever said to her, but a kiss is a kiss, and Rosalind is still smiling as he pulls away. Which really says a lot about the power of love.]

Yes, but you oughtn't take any pride in the victory. I let you catch me.

[She lingers like that for a few seconds longer, pressing her lips together, before taking a deliberate step backwards.]

Now. I truly do want to test our reflexes. Are you ready?

[Is she? She's still a little out of breath, but curiosity wins over personal indulgence.]

Not in the slightest. Come back here.

[And he moves to make a gentle grab for her again, because really, he wasn't done. And yes, maybe it's a touch foolish to be carrying on like this when they're out in the open in the wilds, but of course, that's just all the more reason to have her close at hand, since he's the one who can get them back to the city in an instant if need be.

Besides, he has some very important nuzzling to do.]

Of course you let me catch you. You're not one to be caught any other way.

Robert--

[They're supposed to be studying. They're supposed to be making discoveries. And yet Rosalind steps forward with a laugh, pressing up far more firmly against him.]

You would have let me outrun you forever, is that it? Only I'm not much inclined to make an effort that way.

Oh, no. But I would have pursued you forever, certainly.

[Okay, as lines go, that's a little better — and he half-draws, half-sways her around in a slow circle with him.]

I'm glad you're back where you belong, though.

Mmm.

[She can't relax fully, not out here, not even in his arms. But Rosalind moves with him, at least, swaying in time even as she glances around again and again.]

. . . you're certain you're still feeling all right? You're not out of breath, nothing seems missing?

Not in the slightest.

[But naturally, holding her this close, he can tell that the same isn't true for the both of them.]

But it seems I'm the only one. You've grown tired from all the zipping, have you?

Yes.

[And a fair bit anxious, thanks to it. But Robert will teleport them in an instant if anything looms on the horizon, and so with a force of effort she turns her attention back to him.]

Not to the point of exhaustion. But it is tiring. I have to focus more, too. It's a concentrated effort, instead of something simple.

Yes...the only bit I'm really concentrating on is ending up where you are. Staying within our five meters, that is. It'd be just as easy to simply move to where you are — which of course, is simplest, and also what I always desire.

[He is the smoothest.]

Curious. Perhaps you're right, and we had better keep testing. It does seem that your abilities have been twisted somehow, to make them deviate from what they ought to be.

Yes.

[And yet she doesn't move an inch. Perhaps more tellingly: though she's pleased by his line, her expression doesn't change in the slightest.]

Stay a moment, though. I don't . . .

[A beat. She huffs softly, irritated with herself, and adds impatiently:]

The space still makes me uneasy.

And rightly so, I would imagine. You had a traumatic experience here; it's only to be expected that you'd associate anxieties with it.

[He knows how she hates that, though. Knows precisely what must be running through her head, too — that Madam Lutece oughtn't be afraid, Madam Lutece is supposed to be fearless in the pursuit of science, women grow fearful and cling to their men and she oughtn't be carrying on that way at all.

So he gives her a little squeeze again, skimming his hands over her back.]

I'll stay as long as you need me to. You know I will.

[And indeed, a little frown graces her lips, a noise sounding in her throat as she bites back a protest. I'm not anxious, I'm not afraid, I'm not traumatized, I'm perfectly all right . . . Funny, how automatic it is to keep up her defenses even after admitting she's anxious.

She slides her hands down, catching his shirt between her fingers. It is clinging, though you'd have to look close to see.]

It didn't even happen here.

No, but it did happen in the rugged wilderness, much like this. It doesn't look...

[He hums a little bit, absently moving one of his hands to cover over hers where she's clinging to him, just for that extra spot of attentiveness to her mood.]

...right. Lived-in. Columbia had nothing like this, and even home wasn't this...wild.

[That's true. Venturing out on the plains is a little nervewracking, because she's a city girl, not one suited to the wilderness. Even the forest is a bit better: it's the outdoors, yes, but it's a contained space.]

I'm glad we moved, you know. I didn't want . . . I liked the isolation, at first. But it's a bit better, being surrounded on both sides.

I'm glad we moved because I do believe you couldn't have got further from the city center if you'd tried.

[Yes, Robert, that was presumably sort of the point.]

Besides, the house feels more like...well, a house. Less temporary. More...ours.

Mm.

[She hesitates, then adds:]

It's . . . domestic. More relaxed. More comfortable than Columbia was.

[It would be easy to fool themselves into settling. Certainly the temptation is there; with Robert here, Rosalind finds herself utterly content. Ruby City has a hundred mysteries to solve, and what more has she ever wanted? Scientific work with him at her side, the two of them able to openly celebrate what they are . . . she couldn't imagine a better paradise if she tried.

Robert had wanted to integrate themselves back into Columbia, when all was said and done. He'd wanted a baby. Ruby City is a far, far better place than Columbia to raise a child.

And yet some part of her hesitates, even so. This is all well and good, but it can't possibly be their last stop. She isn't ready. They'd once had all the worlds at their fingertips; how on earth can she be expected to give that all up in exchange for domesticity?]

What do you think of it, now that you've settled in a fair bit?

[It's an abrupt subject change, but he'll follow along.]

Well...I suppose my inclination will still be to see things through the figurative rose-colored glasses, at this point. I've seen one of those strange occasions that this place seems to render on the populace, yet I've not been wholly inconvenienced by it. ...Yet.

[After all, their date as youths was fun and refreshing, wasn't it? And being surrounded by children...

No, that's hardly an inconvenience at all, now, is it.]

...D'you know I met a man who told me, quite enthusiastically, about his boyfriend? No qualms in the slightest. It was...pleasantly startling. To think, that someone here would be so free with something like that, and suffer nary a single repercussion.

I think it's a fresh start. A...rare chance. Certainly not one I'd want to squander, having lived the alternative for too long.

Fugo is paired off like that, you know.

[Though he hadn't been quite so enthusiastic about telling Rosalind. She presses in closer, just to feel his arms tighten fractionally around her.]

. . . a fresh start.

[She stares at nothing for a few seconds, then tips her head back, catching his eye.]

A start for what, though, precisely?

I would say, "for us"...but that isn't what you're getting at. You mean events, not participants.

[He raises his eyebrows slightly, gazing right back down at her — a perfect parallel, the two of them, neatly reflected in each other.]

You don't favor the domesticity.

Not yet.

[She does and she doesn't. Rosalind hesitates, then adds:]

I simply . . . there's so much we haven't yet done. There's so many worlds we haven't seen, and times we never got to visit. There's so much I can't remember, all that knowledge we once had. We were taken too early. I want that domesticity, I do, I want . . .

[Her eyes flicker down for a moment.]

. . . all of it. But to settle into this role feels akin to willingly giving up that other life.

You don't want this until you're quite finished with that, is it...

[He seems to chew on that a little bit, pondering over it. Certainly it makes sense, from her point of view, but there's also an aspect of it that seems...constrained, to his. Perhaps it's Rosalind's personal inclination to look for traps where he longs to see opportunities. Perhaps it's simply easier for him to dream of being whatever he wants on a moment's whim, because he's never been told there's any reason why he can't be anything he wants to begin with.]

It's not "playing wife", you know. If that's — if that's part of it.

[Rosalind stares down at nothing for a long few seconds. Her breathing is shallow now, quick inhales that betray her nerves.]

In that hallucination. With-- with Astor.

[She doesn't dare use his first name. Bringing him up at all feels like a bad idea, and Rosalind is growing tense in Robert's arms, but he has to understand.]

It was domestic. It was-- we lived in a mansion, and I was his wife, his, his perfect wife, I was everything a lady ought to be. I had to be, because that was the way he wanted it, and god only knew what would happen to me if he grew so displeased that he kicked me out. So he was happy, because I was the bloody light of our home. And when he'd fallen asleep, that was the only time I was able to practice my little hobby, when he couldn't see me and disapprove.

God, Robert, I was so miserable. I was so . . . you wouldn't have recognized me.

It's not that I think you'd force me into that. God, even if we had a, a, a child, I don't think you'd ever force me into that, that's not it. But I don't want to . . .

. . . we've never been able to be domestic. Not properly. And I suppose I'm afraid that if I allow myself to give into that, I'll end up precisely where I was with Charlie Astor: miserable and cut off from all that makes my life worth living now.

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