cactusy | IC contact for lastvoyages

Sort of.

[ She focuses on flipping a pancake. It makes remembering feel like she's watching a feed. ]

I'm used to flying solo, and I still had the Machine, but... Harold is irreplaceable. If I anything happened, I know he'd have my back. Without him, facing Samaritan, making sure you and John and Lionel were safe, that our number-- that Grace was safe...

[ Shrugging, she glances over her shoulder at Shaw. ]

I felt off-balance.

I've never felt like a person was a part of me, or that I'm missing a piece of myself when they're gone. I can't even imagine what that's like. But...

[She traces one of the faint orange swirls.]

We fit well together. And now there's an empty space, not inside me but next to me.

You did fit well together.

[ And there's nothing anyone can say or do to fill the space Neal left behind in Shaw's life, and no one to be angry with over it happening at all. ]

Is there any way you can see each other again? Someday?

He says he's coming back someday, but I don't know why he would. And that's how life works; nothing lasts forever. He's alive. That's the most important thing.

[And she really does mean all that.

But. Empty space.]

[ And when something ends, people feel the loss. That's part of life too. ]

He's alive, and you have your memories of him.

[ Done with the basic pancakes, she starts on the fancy ones. Would that she could leave them to cook on their own so she could sit with Shaw and hold her. Telling her that it's okay to miss him is redundant; Shaw knows that. But oh does Root want to just hug the heck out of her. ]

What does the emotion ball say when you hold it and talk about Neal?

Orange. Purple.

[Remembering their deal, she picks up the paper again, scanning it until she finds the relevant colors.]

Purple is worry or concern. Orange is discomfort.

Really? I wouldn't have thought orange would mean that. [ A brief but very present pause. ] I couldn't have picked which colors mean unpleasant emotions at all, actually.

[ Oh-- well, that pancake is a little extra crispy. ]

Black?

[Shaw suggests, tilting her head.]

But that's--

[Another scan of the paper.]

'Anger, fury'.

Hm. My first thought when it comes to black is safety: wearing black, hiding in the dark, striking from afar like you're invisible. But that's just me.

[ Root and her distinctly uncommon view of things. ]

Safety is a physical state, not an emotion. So, uh-- what emotions indicate safety? Relaxation?

Relaxation. Confidence. Trust.

[ Which, to Root, make safety also an emotional state, but she knows she feels enough emotions for both of them, which skews her perception of these things. ]

What colors stand for those?

I don't know if those count as emotions, either. Sheehan tries to make the point that the line between emotion and bodily state is kinda blurry sometimes.

[She scans the list, looking for those words in particular, then shakes her head.]

They're not on here. Relaxation's related to... pink, maybe. Enjoyment.

It's very blurry, in my opinion.

[ She starts getting everyone's plates ready. Yes, the dogs are getting served on plates. ]

The emotion ball showed a lot of pink when I held it, didn't it.

I guess you like me a little bit.

[She goes for a lighthearted teasing tone, but the weariness still seeps in.]

Guess so!

[ She gives the dogs their plates, then comes back to the couch with hers and Shaw's plates, holding out Shaw's with a flourish. ]

So much more than a little bit. You're kind of stuck with me forever.

[Shaw scoots upwards against the arm of the couch, positioning herself in more of a sprawl than a proper lie-down, and balances the plate on her stomach. It smells delectable, but instead of jumping right to eating, she reaches out and traces Root's hipbone again.]

You're kinda stuck with me, too.

[ A bit of genuine tenderness makes it into Root's otherwise confident grin. Wow is she in love. Shaw is her strength and safe harbor, and she hopes she can be the same in return. ]

That's the best I could ever ask for. [ She nods at the pancakes. ] Chocolate chip, strawberry jelly, walnuts. Dessert once you've digested.

[Well, she can't wait any longer after hearing that spiel, can she? Shaw digs her fork in, takes a big bite, and groans in appreciation, sagging further against the couch.]

You know I went two weeks without eating during the port. Now that sucked.

[ Excuse you, what. ]

Care to elaborate for me?

[Around a mouthful of pancake:]

Yeah, I told you it was a crappy port. I was in this water world where I didn't have to eat or sleep.

For two weeks? That's a long time for a port. Was the Barge stranded?

[ Root starts to pick at her much smaller stack of pancakes. They're good, of course, but she's not exactly concerned with eating right now. ]

Some people got stuck, or lost, or-- whatever, and the Barge stuck around until everyone was back. Everyone on the Barge was really stupid about it.

Stupid how?

[ She assuming Shaw got stuck, or went and helped people who got stuck, so she won't ask about that. ]

[Shaw grunts, taking another big bite of pancake.]

Too annoying to get into. Just a bunch of people not understanding my job.

People here seem to have a lot of trouble understanding the things we've had to do.

[ She shakes her head and has a small bite of pancake. If only they could have days like this back home. Indulging in comfort foods, scantily clothed, shooting the breeze. ]

I don't even have interesting dreams to tell you about.

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