exnihilo | 16. azimuth

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16. azimuth

[Public Video]

[Mira Hidalgo is broadcasting from the bathtub. Her own tub, in her own quarters, hair wet and plastered to her neck. She's not quite flashing the whole barge, but currently it's only a matter of either careful or lucky cropping, rather than any actual coy bubble bath. She is drinking champagne from a bottle and utterly pleased with herself.]

Hi, barge.

[Private to Mickey]

I was thinking, if you wanted, I could...check on things, when I go. Baby things, I mean, or...whatever.

[Private separately to Mal and Luna]

Thank you.

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[I'll find out, she thinks, because this is what graduation means, for her: not not killing, but not killing blind, in devotion or obsession or thoughtless hungry reflex. She has been used badly by men and sometimes hurt well; she can imagine reasons for letting him, some of them awful and twisted up and tragic, some of them simpler.]

I'll take care of it.

[A promise, one way or another. Whatever Mandy needs, not just has been carved into thinking she wants. Mira knows about that, too.]

Tell me about your sister?

[The truth is, Mickey can imagine, too; some of her reasons are probably the same ones they both let their dad wail on them and worse for all those years. That just doesn't stop it from being maddeningly frustrating to watch her keep walking into the same fucking mistakes.

...There are times Mickey isn't as self-aware as he should be.]

She's... What do you wanna know?

I don't know. Is she gonna shoot at me if I say I know you, is she loud or quiet or both, tell me an embarrassing kid story.

[She elbows him gently, sniffles but grins.]

Whether she's hot.

[MIRA WHY WOULD YOU ASK HIM THAT.]

Ugh, God -- how the fuck should I know? She's my sister. She's-- I dunno, she's like me. Smarter, I guess, when she's not being fucking stupid. She can be a huge bitch, but...

[But he misses her anyway, like he already knows he's going to miss Mira. He sniffs a little too, rubs at an imaginary smudge on the K on his index finger.]

People used to think we were twins sometimes when we were kids.

[She laughs, cackles that are a little askew of full-throated or carefree, but bright and affectionate even tilted on their axis.]

She sounds pretty great.

I guess.

[He shrugs awkwardly -- then, suddenly, brightens and takes out his communicator.]

Oh, hey. Hold up.

[He flips back a few months and pulls Mandy up on the screen.]

From one of those network freak-outs, remember?

Nice.

[Nice, in this case, definitely means hot asshole, which is pretty much her type. One of her types, anyway.]

I'll deal with the guy, and no one will ever fucking know. I promise.

[That was her specialty, before. Assassination that looked like anything else, suicide, industrial accident, drunken fall. If it comes to murder, none of it will come back down on his family.]

You sure? That's not just gonna... bring you back here?

[Which, hey, he realizes belatedly -- maybe he should be encouraging her to do it all the more for that. Damn.]

...I don't think so? I mean, there are wardens who kill.

I wouldn't do it to a good person because a God told me they were in the way of history, anymore, but I'd do it for her, and for you. If that's not could enough for the barge, then I guess I'll come back.

[He smiles wanly at her.]

Guess it's a win-win for me, then, huh?

Guess so.

[She takes a shaky breath, nudges foreheads with him for half a second. She's going to miss him so much.]

You leave word with Iris when you get out of here, yeah? She'll find me whenever I am. I want to be sure and show up for you coming home.

[Just like he taught her: first you have to show up.]

[The smile fades again. He closes his eyes when their foreheads touch, then drops his head to rest on her shoulder for a moment, sagging slightly in something like defeat. He sniffs again despite himself, though his eyes are still dry when he pulls away, and he almost manages to force the smile back.]

Your nosy ass can show up the day after, a'ight? I'ma need some alone time with Ian without you creeping in through the window to watch me getting fucked every which way.

[He doesn't really think he can scandalize her the way she's sometimes scandalized him, but it's worth a final valiant effort.]

[She sniffles a little too, tilts her head a little on top of his, the two of them wedged neatly together like cog teeth.]

Okay. The day after, then, it's a deal. I'll bring snacks. Drinks for rehydration.

[Get it, Mickey.]

[Well, it was worth a shot, anyway. He laughs quietly.]

Deal.

[Only that feels uncomfortably like an end to the conversation. He bites his lip and looks down, absently picking at an imaginary loose thread on his jeans, then letting his fingers creep forward to brush lightly against her arm.]

Okay...

[It's not, but.]

Edited 2015-07-15 04:30 (UTC)

[It doesn't have to be, though; if this is goodbye, she wants more of it, a little more of him for the road. She pokes him lightly in the side.]

You have to tell me what to see in Chicago. The only other time I was there, corsets were still a thing.

[A quick, crooked smile.]

Don't look at me. I live in the shitty part, remember? Best I can tell you is where the good hot dogs are.

I like shitty parts. They feel a lot more real.

And hot dogs.

Ah, you're gonna regret that.

Guess I can put together some kind of... slum tour for when I get there, though.

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16. azimuth

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