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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. ]

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Though I may look it, I am not human, Rip. There is nothing I can or have kept private from you before. [ beyond that, he can shut her down and make her self-destruct with three words. 'privacy' is something they've never had. something she, truthfully, doesn't understand the need for. ] Should my opinions change, you will be the first to know.

[ 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. ]

[She's not wrong. Those protocols so carefully crafted into her code, keywords only he and she know, could have the ship explode right there where they sit. He nearly had her do that very thing, during the days when Eobard Thawne manipulated his mind, tore the core morality Rip abided by from his personality, until what remained was the cruelest and coldest version of himself.

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.]

[ while in the context of this conversation she means it in terms of being his because she is the ship, she also means 'i am yours' in all those ways rip can't help but think of. and she's not unaware of the implications of what she said. it's because of those that she leaves her one hand gripping rip's wrist as she eats with the other. and it's likely because of those that she feels such a rush of relief when he says he won't resign. at least not yet.

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. ]

[Little does he suspect how Gideon plots already to keep him there; perhaps once things have settled a bit more, when questions ranging from small (where will she sleep?) to large (is this in fact permanent? safe?) are better answered, he might realize just how far she's willing to go to keep him there.

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.]

Edited 2017-06-29 03:01 (UTC)

It seemed the easiest and most nutritious option. [ and unlikely to hurt her still very new stomach. she's not sure that anything would, but just in case, it seemed best to go with something mild.

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.

I see. [Though if the way his mouth tightens with an unformed grin, Rip has already begun thinking of other foods to introduce her to. Perhaps they'll be less nutritious and more complex, but if she is going to be human, then she should enjoy the experience of it so much as possible.

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.]

[ there is indeed a slight flush on the tips of her ears and the apples of her cheeks. she's smiling softly at her captain. but that's not quite what she meant. there's an odd sort of ache behind her sternum, like her ribcage has been turned into some sort of container that has had warmth poured into it to the point of overflowing. that's what fascinates her.

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. ]

[For all his failings when it comes to dealing with others (something that having a team surrounding him has highlighted in many ways), Rip can be quite observant when he chooses to be. Take now, for instance. His eyes rather intently take in the details of where those hints of color show, from her ears to her cheeks. Of course she's beautiful already—and Rip quietly tries not to think of how he'd dreamed her that way—but those patches of pink only make her seem moreso.

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.]

[ that is indeed the memory she's mulling on. the one that's inspiring this turn in conversation. it makes her heart beat just that little bit harder in her chest as she looks at rip and says, just as quietly, ] I'd like to know what it's like to kiss you in reality.

[ 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. ]

[In the end she asks exactly what he expects she will, and yet Rip cannot help but feel caught off guard by it regardless. Some mix, perhaps, of that confirmation that Gideon does indeed desire this, or how glad he is to know that she does.

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.]

[ while gideon would agree that overwhelming her would be a bad idea--best to let her get as accustomed to sensations as she can get--she objects to limiting themselves to just one kiss. and if she knew what rip was thinking about failing her, about possibly harming her, she would scowl at him and tell him off. because that is no way to be thinking.

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. ]

[Well then. Good thing for him that she can't tell what he's thinking, isn't it?

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.]

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