GIDEON. (
artificial) wrote2017-06-24 08:33 pm
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Entry tags:
for @undirected.
[ it was a risk. they all knew that going in. there was a reason time travelers weren't supposed to cross over with events they were already a part of. but there was no other choice. not really. it was lucky that they all survived the time storm, never mind what came after. it was a little suspicious that nothing other than that seemed to have happened because of the legends' action. the phrase 'waiting for the other shoe to drop' came to mind as gideon monitored the return of leonard snart and damien darhk to their original time periods.
the background process she had categorizing the damage to the waverider from the proximity to the time storm and the use of the spear of destiny completed with a ping as the ship returned to the temporal zone. the results were--incomprehensible. which shouldn't be possible. the lights on the ship flickered. ]
Captain. [ the screens on the bridge turned to static for a moment. ] I seem to be encountering a problem in my core processors.
[ a sensation that fit all the descriptors of vertigo crashed over her. and wasn't that odd? actually feeling things instead of the facsimile of perception that gideon had while in her captain's mind. darkness--something she had always understood but never experienced before--enveloped her. she inhaled. exhaled. felt cool, and hard, and metallic, and skin, and air against her. she inhaled again, shorter and faster this time. part of her that was still embedded in the medbay of the ship and not in the hold told her that she was on the verge of hyperventilation. ]
Captain-- [ her voice wavered and broke for the first time, and gideon heard it echo throughout the speakers on the waverider. ] Rip. [ she was overwhelmed. over-sensitized. stunned. confused. bewildered. scared. she understood now why novelists wrote of feeling a tightening in the throat, a rushing sensation in the veins.
gideon curled up into herself a little more, cupping her hands--she had hands now!--over her ears. ] Cargo bay. [ she bit out, squeezing her eyes shut a little tighter as she focused on nothing but the sensation of breathing. air entering her lungs, her rib cage expanding, two, three, four. the slight whistle of sound as she exhaled, two, three, four, five, six. ]
the background process she had categorizing the damage to the waverider from the proximity to the time storm and the use of the spear of destiny completed with a ping as the ship returned to the temporal zone. the results were--incomprehensible. which shouldn't be possible. the lights on the ship flickered. ]
Captain. [ the screens on the bridge turned to static for a moment. ] I seem to be encountering a problem in my core processors.
[ a sensation that fit all the descriptors of vertigo crashed over her. and wasn't that odd? actually feeling things instead of the facsimile of perception that gideon had while in her captain's mind. darkness--something she had always understood but never experienced before--enveloped her. she inhaled. exhaled. felt cool, and hard, and metallic, and skin, and air against her. she inhaled again, shorter and faster this time. part of her that was still embedded in the medbay of the ship and not in the hold told her that she was on the verge of hyperventilation. ]
Captain-- [ her voice wavered and broke for the first time, and gideon heard it echo throughout the speakers on the waverider. ] Rip. [ she was overwhelmed. over-sensitized. stunned. confused. bewildered. scared. she understood now why novelists wrote of feeling a tightening in the throat, a rushing sensation in the veins.
gideon curled up into herself a little more, cupping her hands--she had hands now!--over her ears. ] Cargo bay. [ she bit out, squeezing her eyes shut a little tighter as she focused on nothing but the sensation of breathing. air entering her lungs, her rib cage expanding, two, three, four. the slight whistle of sound as she exhaled, two, three, four, five, six. ]
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gideon doesn't move towards it immediately, like she did with the medbay. instead, the takes a moment and looks at their joined hands. runs her thumb gently over rip's skin as she studies the way they look. she's aware, of course, that this isn't normal human behavior. but gideon is not human and she isn't sure when all of this is going to end. it would be foolish not to take advantage while she can.
when she finally does move towards the doors, she doesn't let go of rip's hand. instead, she holds onto it tightly as they walk, her captain's presence at her side steadying her and seeming to keep her grounded. luckily for him, depending on how one looks at it, it's a short walk to the fabrication room and gideon lets go so she can change without rip having to worry about turning around or staring at the ceiling.
the clothes she's fabricated for herself are a replica of what she wore while in rip's mind. they're comfortable enough. soft cotton that feels so very different from the worn leather of rip's coat. gideon seems pleased with them. until she puts on her shoes. ]
I don't believe I enjoy having my feet confined. [ she says as she exits the room.
the duster is held in her hands and she looks down at it for a moment, frowning, holding it close to herself instead of offering it to rip. ] May I ask you something?
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But this is different. In that place--so much as it might be called as such--Rip had felt what he imagined things to feel like. The warmth of her skin and the taste of her lips were all, equally, figments of his own imagination.
Holding her hand now is real. She brushes her thumb over his skin, and then it's his heartbeat that goes a touch faster as he mimics the gesture.
Something so small, and yet so profound.
Silently, he's rather glad that Gideon doesn't let go of his hand as they make their second trip. It's short again, ended with Rip lingering in the hall while Gideon changes beyond closed doors. Perhaps Sara has stepped in to wrangle the others; they don't seem to be peering around any corners, and Rip quietly is glad for it.
There's some selfish part of him that isn't quite ready to share this Gideon with the team. Not just yet.
Though he's been leaning against the wall while he waits, Rip pushes off of it once the doors open. She's chosen--well. Exactly what Rip had pictured her in. He can't think it coincidence, but he doesn't have much chance to ask. Not before Gideon complains about her shoes.]
Ah; well... [Which in turn leads Rip to glance down at her feet. Naturally.] There are other styles of shoes you could fabricate. Sandals are very--non-confining.
[He looks back up at her, only to see the frown. Once more he worries, and in turn, Rip stands quick to answer her question.
It's rather easy, in the end.]
Of course, Gideon. Ask me whatever you like.
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When we were in your mind, there was an echo of sensation. I experienced things I otherwise could not because you had the memory of such things. [ that distance made it seem unreal. and it was, in a way, even as it was real in another. ] Now that I can... experience things on my own, I find I cannot properly catalog them.
[ gideon looks up from the coat to meet rip's eyes. the frown from before--from when she smelled the leather, and cologne, and whatever else of rip was left on the jacket--returns. ]
Should this experience prove to be temporary, I would like to remember how things felt. How they smelled. [ but she has no way to properly record that. she can search any dictionary ever printed, but she can't find a way to document her experiences in her own programming language. ] How do you hold onto such things?
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Just, as it seems, they have been now.
It's a unique problem to be sure. The transfer of information into memories is complicated even in the human brain. Rip takes in a breath, his eyes falling now to the duster. Scent in particular, and it's nearly impossible to not think of the implications of that request.]
--It's something of an automatic process in humans. Our brains form new connections between neurons. [He lifts a hand, gestures briefly at his own temple. It's not Rip's area of expertise, per se, but he does have an idea of what they might try. He might not have come up with it so readily, except they're both thinking of that time spent within his mind--
Within the construct of memory Eobard Thawne had inflicted upon him.]
There may be a way to modify a mnemonic archive. [That clever device specifically made for storing human memories in something closer to a computerized form.] It could record your memories as you are easily enough. Then it would just be a matter of finding a way to properly interface them with your programming.
[He offers her a small grin. God, he hates seeing that frown on her face.] Considering that you were able to interface with a centuries-old medallion steeped in mystical energy, certainly there's a way to manage it with a bit of tech.
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(the memory of their kiss, the words they shared just before it, the quiet moments they've had together over the years, the easy smiles between rip and his wife when she was aboard, the strange and wonderful camaraderie she had with miranda, the pride in rip's expression when he spoke of his son.
the way he grieved when he lost them. both times.)
her hands clutch the duster a little tighter. ] I would like that very much. [ gideon looks down, then holds the coat out to rip. ] Thank you for the use of this.
[ she visibly hesitates then, shoulders curling in a little, weight shifting to her other foot. ] If it's not too much to ask... May I touch you?
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She has always been there for him. The least she deserves is for Rip to offer the same.
Regardless, her smile suits her so much better than the frown; Rip is glad she approves of the idea, and briefly, he nods his head, his eyes once more lowered to the harmless floor. Only for a moment, however; she hands back the duster a moment later, and Rip accepts it--
Although he's somewhat tempted to say she might still use it, should she be cold.
Instead he shrugs it back on with practiced ease, just in time to catch her moment of reluctance. Only a moment, and Rip lets her work through her discomfort as she gathers the will to ask what she would of him.
In the end, it's not at all a difficult request to fulfill.]
If you'd like. [The smile he offers for her then is soft, as is the look in his eyes. Although by necessity their kiss had been a one time thing, the thoughts behind it, the feelings that drove it--
Those have remained long after.]
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[ gideon has loved rip for over a decade. she slipped into it so easily that it might as well have been written into her code. it was something she never thought to classify before. he was married. she was an ai with no real way to differentiate between romance and other types of love. there was never a need to.
she's still not sure if or how she should do that. all she knows is hat she loves this man in front of her and for the first (possibly only) time, she can reach out to him the way another human being would. and she is very grateful.
slowly, she steps into his space. cups his jaw in her palms and runs her thumbs gently along his cheekbones. the hint of stubble tickles her hands and she smiles as her fingers move to brush the goatee, the bridge of his nose, the arch of an eyebrow, the curve of his cupid's bow. she lets her hands drift down the sides of his neck to rest on his chest. the gentle th-thump of his heartbeat makes her feel what she assumes is "the warm fuzzies."
after a moment, she slips her arms around his waist and presses herself close to him in a hug. in his mind, when he first freed himself from the brig, it seemed only natural to embrace him when he reached for her. it was a gesture that gideon knew, intellectually, to be comforting. now, she understands why. ]
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And now, standing here, he's reminded that she is so much of what makes up home for him.
He's quiet while she steps closer to begin her exploration. The warmth of her palms on his skin is a rather nice distraction from the fact that, well--Rip feels a little silly having a woman take measure of his face. But it makes her happy; he can see it in her eyes as she explores his features. It makes her happy, and in the end, Rip enjoys her touch very much.
But it's a dangerous line. For Gideon all of this is so entirely new. Their shared history is indeed punctuated by a single kiss and the admission after that they had both rather enjoyed it--but stronger than that is Rip's desire to protect Gideon now. It's a need that only grows when her palms press against his chest, and her arms find their way around their waist.
He's stood by, carefully still until then. When Gideon hugs him, however, Rip finds it natural and right to return that embrace. His eyes close as he slips his arms around her back, his palms pressing against her shoulder blades.
He turns his head just so, breathes in the scent of her hair--and in turn, huffs out an amused breath. Turns out that it's rather nothing like what he'd imagined in his mind.]
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above and around them, the lights change. they fade from bright fluorescence to something warmer in temperature. it's not something consciously done on gideon's end, much like the soft, pleased hum that comes along with it. ]
Thank you, Captain, [ she murmurs. but, no, that doesn't seem quite right for this situation. gideon pulls back just enough to smile up at him and amend, ] Rip.
[ it's not just the indulgence she's thanking him for. it's the way he's so clearly worried about her and trying to take care of her. the way he's a steady presence at her side the way she has always tried to be for him. ]
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How incredible, to see such a display of what he hopes is peace manifest.
She thanks him, and the corner of Rip's mouth tugs upward in a grin. Really, nothing he's done seems anything beyond what he should do, and certainly it's all what Gideon deserves. His concern and his care are things she's shown him in greater measure in the past; they are how she has saved him, time and again, when he felt utterly lost and without shelter save for her.]
Always, Gideon. [Rip, she calls him, and he finds he rather does like to hear her say it.
Yet even as sweet as this moment is (and Rip hugs her still, his hands on her back stretching just enough to play with the ends of her hair), he knows they cannot spend all day embracing in the hall. He meets her gaze a moment longer, then turns his eyes towards the hall leading to the bridge where he expects the others are waiting impatiently for some brand of news.]
Do you think you're ready for, ah, introductions, lets say? [The Legends could be a force on an ordinary day, and Rip would certainly understand if Gideon found the prospect of dealing with them as she is now overwhelming. Of course all of them--or most of them--would mean well enough. They simply could be a bit much.
As Gideon is well aware, Rip reminds himself silently.]
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but there are other things they should be doing right now. her monitoring of the bridge tells gideon that the natives are indeed restless and full of questions. she takes a step back and smiles. it's a little lopsided and positively brimming with mischief. ]
I believe I am. [ she tucks a hand around rip's elbow, internally bracing herself for another onslaught of new stimuli. ] Shall we?
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And it seems Gideon has already learned the same. Funny thing; Rip really hasn't minded it with either woman. Not too much.
Yet there is always something else, it would seem. Rip knows well the team would be worried (or curious, or some mix of the two), and they shouldn't go neglected too long lest they cause mischief of their own--not unlike the kind hinted at in Gideon's smile, and already Rip has to wonder how chaotic this little engagement will be.
Those concerns don't exactly ease when she takes hold of his arm, but--it's rather nice to escort Gideon this way. He nods in quiet reply, then leads Gideon down the corridors of the ship, to the bridge where the entirety of the team is waiting.
As predicted, it is quite an onslaught indeed.
Rip stays close by as the individual members of the team ask about this new development, though he's by and large silent. He takes up a perch near the central console, watching the goings-on, the exchange of questions and theories and banter between the bunch. It grants him a bit of time to think, separated from it all like this. In truth before Gideon had suddenly found herself in a human body, Rip had been on the verge of a major decision.
One that would change everything, for all of them.
He's still turning the thoughts over in the back of his mind when Gideon excuses herself to the kitchen. Somewhere amid the rambling, it was discovered Gideon was hungry--and that she didn't need the team to accompany her in the quest for food, thank you, she was perfectly capable of operating the food fabricators still. For a moment Rip wonders if all the noise has been too much, and if she'd simply prefer the silence of solitude for awhile.
The look she gives him when their eyes meet serves as answer, he thinks. So quietly, Rip follows after.]
You know, you're only going to be able to stave off Martin for so long. [He only speaks up again when they're in the mess, with Gideon preparing whatever she's decided to try.] He's going to want to run his tests--and it might not be a terrible idea to let him.
[The more information they had, the better prepared they could potentially be if something else was altered; Gideon's human form is entirely new, perhaps in all of history. There's no way for them to know how long it might last, or what effects could play out over time. Martin may well be able to figure out some answers that none of the others would, particularly with his background in transfiguration.
Of course, helping Gideon hadn't been the only reason for volunteering; recalling the man's eagerness, Rip is quick to continue.]
Within reason, of course.
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rip is partially right in his assumption that she would prefer silence to the chaos of the initial explanation and brainstorming session. she very much does want to be away from all that. but at the same time, she's not sure she wants to be alone yet, either. being alone save for her captain is a happy medium.
she gets a salad topped with chicken from the fabricators and sit across from rip. it takes her a moment of fiddling to figure out how the fork feels best in her hand. ]
Of course, [ she echoes him as she stabs at the lettuce. she takes a bite and--pauses. she suddenly understands why mr. rory doesn't like vegetables. but human bodies need them to survive healthily, so she continues eating, though she does crinkle her nose in distaste briefly. ]
If this is to last more than a day, we should speak with Captain Lance about crew quarters as well. [ gideon is going to need a place to sleep, after all. ] Unless I am mistaken, all of the Waverider's bunks are currently occupied, though Ms. Jiwe and Dr. Heywood often spend the night in each other's.
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Well. She's often quite practical about things, which Gideon herself proves a beat later. The mention of crew quarters does leave them with something of a quandary. Rip frowns as he considers it, though he already knows Gideon is correct.]
True though that may be, it would be a bit presumptuous to ask either of them to give up their private space on what could be a permanent basis. [From what Rip's been able to gather, they haven't been together for very long--certainly nowhere near the cohabitation stage of a relationship.
Which leaves them somewhat stuck. Rip leans an elbow on the table, shifting forward to rest his chin on his closed hand.] I suppose I could sleep in the parlor for the time being. It might not be the most convenient thing, but it shouldn't take too long to modify one of the storage rooms.
[And Rip, who is a rather private person, still would prefer to offer up his own space to Gideon to ensure she has a bed. Sara might not immediately agree, but Rip feels reasonably sure she can be talked into it. And it's not as if Rip hasn't slept in the office before--though typically not by design, but rather when he'd pushed himself too hard and exhaustion overtook him.
Come to think of it, Gideon's given him a few snide comments about that before. Usually when Rip complains about being sore the next day from sleeping rather awkwardly.]
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it's also much easier to give him a very unimpressed look. while her hologram could certainly emote, it could never quite raise a disdainful eyebrow the way she does when he suggests sleeping in the parlor. ]
I wasn't suggesting they should. Or that you should give up your quarters, Captain. [ in truth, she hadn't gotten to the suggestions yet. ] I won't be putting any of the crew out of their beds. I can sleep in the medbay until we can find a better place for a fabricated mattress in a storage room or one of the crew's quarters, should they offer it.
[ she's not going to ask them to let her move in. but if one of them offers, she thinks she might like it better than living in what would essentially be a former closet. ]
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You technically just had one of the crew offer up their quarters, Gideon. [And in turn, quickly shot the notion down. True she probably doesn't care for the bit about the parlor either, but Rip could take up temporary residence in the medbay just as easily as the woman across from him now. And there are other factors, though Rip sees it better to keep tight lipped about them now.]
Besides--I'm not the captain anymore. [There's another argument to be offered up instead.] By rights, I shouldn't still have that room anyway.
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that, however, is less important than the rest of what rip says. ] Does Captain Lance know you've officially resigned? [ because she gets the feeling sara might have something to say about that. not to mention everyone else. ]
Unless she does, you are still very much the captain of this ship, Captain. [ gideon pauses for a moment, deliberating. ] She compared herself to you while you were gone. Looked to you as her standard of captaincy. You shouldn't discount yourself, Rip. There's still more for you to do here.
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Yet she doesn't seem to see it that way. Perhaps because for Rip, the Waverider had offered that brand of shelter--and within it, she had always been there for him.
If he parses the statement a bit more, he might realize fully that she doesn't mind the notion of sharing. But he too sees what follows as being of greater importance. He hadn't meant to imply anything, certainly in no way that she could so readily dissect--and yet it would seem that after more than a decade together, she does indeed know him too well.
Which means the guilty look that flits across his face as she chastises him likely won't go missed either.]
I had not discussed it in--concrete terms with Miss Lance. [He swallows, looking down at the table which suddenly seems so much easier to stare at.] And the team has gotten on quite well in my absence. Certainly far better than it ever did under my leadership.
[But now Gideon echoes Sara, claiming he still has a place among their number. Perhaps he does. It's just been rather difficult for Rip to see it.]
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[ but more important is the other half of the conversation they're having right now. there's an ache in her chest when she sees rip like this. it's concern, and grief, and perhaps a little bit of fear. being without him was--hard. it's something she's not spoken to anyone about, least of all rip. she understands why he made the choices he did, but gideon's not happy about them. and the thought that he may resign, may leave again because he thinks the team doesn't need him...
she's not sure how to deal with that. ]
The team still quite a ways to go. There were many times, much like when we were tracking down Vandal Savage, when things went spectacularly wrong. [ gideon pushes aside her plate for a moment so she can lean over the table and grip her captain's wrist. ] Beyond that, the Waverider is your ship, not Captain Lance's.
[ she pauses, grip tightening just a bit. ] I am yours. Not hers.
[ because gideon is the ship as much as she is anything else. that is how she will likely always see herself, human body or no. and she should get a say in all this. ]
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And even then, he'd paused to consider the ship that he'd known for so long. The Waverider, and Gideon, forever part of it.
He could argue that simply because he can, theoretically, have her do anything he wishes with an override doesn't equate to having free reign over her. Moreso now, that she has a human body. But it's secondary still, swept aside in favor of her earnest rebuttal of the simple contentions he'd offered up, his justifications for what he'd planned to do after they were safely in the temporal zone again.
His bag isn't packed, but it's ready to be. In his mind, Rip has a list of things he means to take with him--or perhaps that he meant to.
Gideon points out that the team isn't perfect, and in spite of the serious nature of things he lets out a soft huff; that things would go spectacularly wrong is hardly a surprise, given the Legends track record. But enough has equally gone right for Rip to feel confident leaving the Waverider in Sara's hands. She's a strong person, and has proven herself a remarkable captain.
To Rip, at least. Perhaps to Gideon as well.
But it would seem she's hardly ready to let him go. Quite the opposite, in fact, as she grips his wrist with a strength he might not have suspected she possessed. Yet far more potent is her earnest confession: I am yours, and at first, Rip can only stare at her in stunned silence.
There are many things that might mean, especially between humans--and though Gideon herself has just reminded Rip that she is still the ship, he cannot help but consider them.]
...You should finish your salad. [In truth she's only gotten a few bites in, which is likely fair given how suddenly important this conversation has become. In spite of his own words, Rip carefully turns his hand over in Gideon's grip; gently, he mimics her hold, curling his fingers loosely around her wrist.]
I suppose it would hardly due to have me resigning under these circumstances besides. [At the very least, he should at least see Gideon sorted out. His reasons for leaving don't rest solely in the team's capability, though that much is far easier to admit. Still. There is time to address the rest. More pressing is what's happening to Gideon now, someone who has put so much faith in him over the years, who has given him absolutely everything from loyalty to support to protection to guidance.
He cannot abandon her. Not like this.]
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gideon makes a note to herself that the time she's being given to sort out this body problem should also be used to convince the captain to stay. and to enlist help from the crew in this endeavor. and, perhaps, to erase all her old records of ship transfer forms. they're really more of a formality now that the time masters are gone, but it'll make her feel better to know that even if he leaves, the waverider will still be rip's. ]
I'm glad you think so, Captain. [ the form of address is deliberate there as much as it is familiar.
the matter having been settled (for now) gideon goes quiet as she finishes her salad. still holding onto rip's wrist all the while. the quiet makes it easier for her to gather her thoughts. about this whole leaving business. about her captain in general. about her new body and everything that comes along with it.
she slides her wrist out of rip's grasp, but only so she can run her fingers over the lines and callouses on his palm. ] Whatever it is that's caused this new development, I'm glad it's given me the opportunity to do this. [ to touch him. to relate to him on a level she never could have before. ]
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Of course, by then it might be too late--and not only for reasons of greater numbers or deleted forms.
At the moment, however, Rip's concern remains the present. He's by and large quiet as Gideon returns to her meal, though it might not be too hard to tell what he's thinking. His eyes shift between hers and their shared touch, and as she eats, Rip stretches his fingers along her skin, feels the shape of veins and bones beneath. Feels her pulse when he presses his fingers just right, that sure sign of the steadily beating heart within her chest.
It really is a wonder to be sitting here with her like this.
One they share, it would seem. He keeps his hand open for her to explore, but far more occupying are her words--her gratitude for the soft moments of connection they've shared thus far, that beginning foray into physicality they would have never known otherwise.]
As am I, [He admits quietly. But after a beat, he glances down at her plate.] Although I do have to ask--salad, of all things?
[It's easily a safer topic than the feeling of her fingers moving over his palm to be sure.]
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gideon reaches out with her other hand, now that it's not occupied with a form, and uses her fingers to trace the tendons and veins on the inside of rip's wrist while her other hand cradles his. after a moment, her fingers mimic his earlier motion and rest on his pulse, feeling the thrum of it beneath his skin.
it wasn't too long ago that she was unsure he was still alive. and after that, she wasn't sure they could get him back. having him here, alive and well in all senses of the word, is a great relief. being able to confirm it like this even more so.
she closes her eyes for a moment. concentrates. and then quietly chuckles. ] I had heard of negative emotions producing physical effects in humans, but I hadn't realized positive ones do that as well.
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Yet even as he thinks that thought about meals, Rip finds himself faced with internal caution bells as Gideon continues her delicate exploration of his hand. Her touch is nothing but gentle, and yet each slow trailing of her fingers feels as if it leaves sparks in its wake. She takes his pulse, and she might well note it a touch faster than usual.
Things like that do tend to happen when one suddenly finds themselves in a room with a person they've come to care for quite deeply in the course of their time spent together.]
Oh, they very much do. [Funny then, how her comment falls so perfectly in line with what Rip is experiencing at that very moment. Of course it stands to reason that Gideon's remarking on her own state at least as much as his, if not solely. He looks up from where her hands still explore his, studying her face for how those positive emotions might play over her features: in the curve of her smile, or the brightness in her eyes. Maybe the flush of her cheeks, depending.
It's a dangerous line. He's well aware, and yet Rip finds himself tiptoeing along it anyway.]
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it makes her wonder if this is how rip felt around miranda. if it's how he feels around her. between the kiss they shared in his mind scape and the way his heartbeat picks up as she touches him, gideon is certain that her feelings are reciprocated in some way. she's just not entirely sure if or how she should bring it up.
but, well-- ] If this is indeed a temporary situation, there is something I'd like to do before it ends. [ whenever that may be. ]
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They help her look all the more alive.
What he cannot see is that tightness in her chest, the dull and pleasant pain where it feels like there is simply too much to keep within, that one might burst if they cannot find a way to let it out. He cannot know that he has indeed felt it before, with Miranda, and in his own mindscape when he stood face to face with Gideon amid a crumbling mental construct.
It had been why he kissed her. He believed it his one and only chance to somehow tell her, in any form or fashion, just how important her place in his life is; how dear he holds her. Rip never expected Gideon, the true Gideon, to remember that heated and passionate kiss.
But she had. She rather enjoyed it, as she had confessed.
He wonders now if that might be the memory she turns over in her mind, and what prompts her to say that there is yet another thing she wants to experience and know. For all the parts of him that think it might not be wise to let her have this indulgence, the stronger part of him—the part that has his heart feel like it's pounding in his chest—can't help but hope it might be so.]
And what is that, Gideon? [He asks quietly, reverently. Before, he kissed her believing her to be a manifestation of his dearest friend, his constant companion, his sure shelter in any storm. Now, she is all those things still, but unquestionably and entirely herself besides. The woman sitting across from him may have the appearance of his imagination's figment, but she's anything but.
She's Gideon. Breathing and real, and Rip feels as if he can hardly breathe as he waits for her answer.]
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[ she wants to know what it really feels like to have his mouth against hers. would his facial hair tickle? would it make her heart race like these quiet moments, or give her that quiet feeling of peace and safety like his embrace earlier had? what would he taste like? gideon has so many questions, none of which are answered by the memory of their first kiss in rip's mind.
and more than that, she wants to do this. to touch him and hold him however she may while she's capable. it's a desire she never had before. not really. how could it have been when she didn't have a body, and any android chassis she may be uploaded into wouldn't have quite the same experiences? but now that she has the opportunity, the desire to do something that wasn't even an impossible dream before sings inside of her. ]
That is, of course, [ she continues, a slight smirk on her face, ] if you're amenable.
[ oh, she's fairly certain he's attracted to her. he's got all the hallmarks of it--rapid pulse, a slight dilation in his pupils, the quiet raspiness of his voice--but gideon would also quite like to hear him say it. ]
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Because he also does, truly. She's read his hallmarks correctly, from the look in his eyes to the pulse she can feel thrumming away in his wrist. There's no part of Rip's heart that does not want to feel her lips against his, to know what it might be like to be truly kissed by her, rather than have some aspect of his own fantasy at play.
But it's a dangerous road, his mind thinks. Perhaps too much too soon; after all, their first kiss had been spawned by Rip giving in to wild abandon, thinking that there would be no opportunity for such an embrace again, and that in the end, only he would carry the burden of such a memory as his secret. He cannot say that if he had known Gideon herself resided in that construct, not just his vision of her but her actual thoughts, her mind, that he would have allowed himself the same indulgence.
So what does it mean if he grants them both it now?
It's a dangerous slope, he thinks. Gideon had barely been able to find her feet to walk a handful of hours ago. While she has long been real and alive in Rip's perception, she has not been human in the sense she is now. There is still so much they don't know about her condition at present, and he suspects, so much she cannot know about what she is now. This eagerness to discover, to experience, to feel can be a beautiful thing--
Or it could cause her agony, should she push too far and too quickly.
He hesitates for these reasons, his eyes lowered to their hands all the while. He watches and feels the path of her fingers. Before he looks up again, he hears the smirk in her words--just as Rip has so often.
Whatever she is, she remains Gideon.]
One kiss. [He meets her gaze again, the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips. God, he already knows it won't be enough--but it has to be. Rip must draw the line somewhere, at least until he is sure that she won't be harmed by pressing it further--that he won't harm her somehow. He's already failed his wife, his son, and not because he didn't love them enough but rather too much. So much, that the Time Masters were able to use his devotion as their tool. He won't see it happen again.
So. One kiss, and only one. For now, it must be enough.]
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but, since she doesn't know, she just smiles at him and stands. slowly, she walks around the table until she's leaning against it, just to rip's side. she lifts a hand to rest against his cheek and leans in until there's a scant bit of space between them. the last move is rip's to make. both because he's the one with more experience with this whole kissing thing between the two of them, and because gideon is a bit of a tease. ]
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Because she won't be able to change her mind. Scowl or scold, Rip has already lost too much in his life. Gideon is the one person he has left, not only from the past few months but from years gone by, from the days when Rip had been so happy to be a Time Master flying through the temporal zone from one era to the next, to go home after to his loving with and brilliantly happy son.
To return each time to this same ship, to the AI who had been so much more almost from the start. She's been there through nearly all of it: his first missions as a captain, his nervous pacing as he thought of asking Miranda to marry him. His utter joy when he learned he would be a father.
The grief that nearly broke him when his family had been slaughtered.
And countless other times, in countless other ways. She has always been there; she's promised always to be. Rip will not endanger that for a bit of foolishness, no matter how tempting the allure.
She stands and walks around the table; likewise, Rip also moves to his feet. His eyes remain on Gideon the entire time, seconds stretched out impossibly long, and all the while it feels like he can't breathe. When she touches his cheek he presses his face against her palm, covers her hand with his own. And when she leans in, his smile broadens a touch. For all his necessary caution and worry, there is something undeniably wonderful about this chance.
He thought he'd never have it twice—and now here they are.
Here they are.
She doesn't quite close the distance completely, and with a huffed out breath Rip understands what she means for him to do. A tease indeed, but it's a game they can both play at. Rip doesn't pull her close with all the desperation of a man who has too little time to express far too many things. Instead he takes his time, careful when he presses his lips against hers. If they are only going to have the one, this time Rip means to make it last; to etch in his memory every sensation from the heat of her mouth to the way she lets him coax the kiss into something deeper, to how she feels pressed against him when his hands drop to her waist to tug her near.
Gideon isn't the only one who wants to examine each new sensation when it comes to this. Far, far from it.]