(no subject)

[regan_tam]

Regan's silent, as they step through the door from Milliways into the still-deserted sidestreet.

Silent, as they stroll through the bustling Elysian Fields shopping district. Any other day Regan would be glancing from store to store, keeping an eye out for clothes and tailors and presents; she loves this part of the city. Any other day the warm smiles she directs at certain passersby might not be quite so automatic.

She's a little distracted right now.

Silent, until Gabriel touches a hand to the fingerprint-sensor keypad, and they step together into their discreetly lavish hotel room.

Then she's still silent, but the questioning look she turns on him speaks volumes.

Comments

[gabriel_tam]

"It's been... quite an evening," he decides.

Carefully phrased, almost delicately so. Gabriel moves across the room toward the window, drawing the curtain open to look out over the city.

[regan_tam]

Regan exhales.

She's exhausted; she's keyed up from nerves until she has to restrain herself from jittery fidgeting. She restrains it, of course; she's had enough practice.

Never have the stakes been so high. And half the time she isn't even sure when she's walking the delicate edge of influencing the outcome and when she can relax.

She draws a little nearer, enough to look out at the panorama. The Tallis building shimmers in the distance, a spire lit in amber and bronze. "It has indeed."

[gabriel_tam]

Silence for only a beat, before he murmurs,

"Are you all right?"

[regan_tam]

No.

I have no idea.

Silence, for a breath.

A sidelong glance. "Are you?" Just as quiet.

[gabriel_tam]

"I'm fine," he says easily. It's not even a lie, not really.

"Quite the news we had from our... friends." Gabriel breathes out, a long sigh, and glances toward the discreetly placed console, pointedly.

[regan_tam]

That's the way this conversation is to go, then. They're both fine, easy and warm.

Funny how easy it is to forget about all the tensions and distance between them, in the face of an outside threat, until they intrude again like a slap.

She doesn't need the reminder of the console. Of the listeners. She's abruptly, deeply angry at him -- does he think she's stupid, does he think she can't be told the truth, but then she can't, can she? She's betrayed him just as much, and she's irrationally angry at him for that, too, right now. And she knows it's partly just that he's a target, that he's there and easy and all the frustration and fury in her has to go somewhere, but it doesn't make it easier to stifle.

But they're fine. Of course.

"It was," she agrees neutrally. "A night full of surprises."

[gabriel_tam]

"Rather." Dryly said -- and as she doesn't move toward the console, he does, but pauses over the programming selection.

"Music or a newsfeed, Regan, which would you prefer?"

It's a casual inquiry, matching her social, neutral tone.

[regan_tam]

"Music, I think."

More news she does not need. A dry, cultured voice announcing political maneuverings she already knows about and reanalyzing the aftermath of the Miranda revelations with no new content.

"You were listening to that sitar and oud group the other day."

Polite and social. She can do that.

She's still furious that she should have to, still. Here, now, with Gabriel. Aren't they trying to repair things? She knows it's irrational, that there are good reasons for it, and the knowledge just makes her more frustrated.

[gabriel_tam]

"Ah, I remember." It had filled the air with strings and sound, serving nicely as a background counterpoint for whatever he had been doing at the time. "Jim Chandra mentioned them, and I thought I'd give them a try."

Browsing the available choices, he programs something from the latest concert season for Lavinia's orchestra. "When in Rome," Gabriel says wryly, straightening and turning to her as the music fills the room. "Or near its closest facsimile, at least."

The Elysian Fields district is not all that far away, after all.

[regan_tam]

Her smile is just a little thinner than she means it to be.

"It seems appropriate."

[gabriel_tam]

He has never been that unobservant, and Gabriel's brows furrow as he studies her, frowning slightly now.

Low, under the cover of the music,

"Are you certain you're all right, Regan?" A beat. "It's been... difficult, I know."

[regan_tam]

She turns away, studying the view, hands resting lightly on the sill.

There's a subtle tension in her shoulders.

"Oh, I'm fine." As low as his. "Why wouldn't I be?"

[gabriel_tam]

Dangerous ground this, and there are any number of things he doesn't want to discuss yet, if ever.

Silently, futilely, Gabriel Tam curses Wash.

"...you didn't do a gorram thing to stop it..."

"I'm not a mind-reader, Regan."

Like River. The instant it's out, he wishes he could take it back.

[regan_tam]

Regan stiffens noticeably.

"No," she says bitingly, with a hot glance thrown sidelong at him. "And neither am I."

She jerks around again, to stare at the twinkling cityscape, jaw set.

"Even if I'm apparently expected to be."

[gabriel_tam]

"Would you rather I have overwhelmed you with everything all at once?"

It's infuriatingly reasonable.

"Would you have even believed me if I had?"

[regan_tam]

It's perfectly, utterly reasonable, and for an instant she hates him for that.

Every word bitten off, "It doesn't matter what I'd rather. Does it."

That has been made abundantly clear. For several years. Everything happens anyway.

[gabriel_tam]

"I will not have another scandal."

Gabriel's eyes narrow.

"What would you rather, then?" Evenly and controlled, business-cool.

[regan_tam]

A jerky, frustrated gesture, and she swings around to glare at him.

"I don't know!"

"Not--" Her eyes flick to the console.

With careful, icy precision, "Nothing that can happen anyway. So it doesn't matter."

[gabriel_tam]

"Oh, it matters." Low and still controlled, but no less pointed for all of that. "It matters very much."

[regan_tam]

A moment more of matched, clashing gazes, and then she turns away, crossing her arms tight over her chest.

She's acting petulant, and she knows it. It's been a stressful roller-coaster of an evening, and she can't get her emotions in hand any more. All she can do is keep her voice low enough for the pleasant orchestral symphony to mask it.

"I'd rather none of this had happened. I'd rather have our children back. I'd rather not take lashings from men I've never met and I'd rather know the background instead of flying blind in every conversation and I'd rather there weren't anything to know, and there is and so be it, and it doesn't matter, Gabriel, because none of my wishing changes a thing."

It's not the most coherent sentence she's ever uttered.

[gabriel_tam]

I'd rather none of this had happened - I'd rather there weren't anything to know - so be it

"You can't possibly think that I like this state of affairs? That I wanted it to be this way?"

Shock and hurt and anger all three. It's been a long evening for Gabriel Tam, as well.

"What do you want from me, Regan? What else do you want me to do? I'm doing the best I can!"

[regan_tam]

"I know."

What she wants -- desperately, achingly, impossibly -- is to rewind the last five years.

[gabriel_tam]

Tense with frustration, Gabriel stalks away from the window and ends up standing by a desk, palms flat on its surface and head down as he takes deep breaths, trying to find a modicum of self-control.

[regan_tam]

That makes two of them. She's still standing where she was, arms folded tight, hands fisted in her expensive sleeves.

Long minutes later, low and tense, "You're doing the best you can. I'm doing the best I can. Neither of us wanted any of this, and here it is. Whatever the hell half of it is -- what do you want from me? I'm trying, Gabriel."

She hasn't turned around yet.

[gabriel_tam]

It's almost an explosion of temper, barely suppressed -- just enough to stay under the level of the music.

"I want you to trust me!"

[regan_tam]

"I do!"

It's angry, and frustrated, overriding his deep breath and the start of some lower and more tightly controlled sentence -- and it's instant, surprising even herself.

There's frozen silence between them for a minute.

Regan, abruptly, feels every year of her age, old and weary.

Low and tired, "You're trying. I'm trying. And most of the time it doesn't seem to change a thing for anyone else in the 'verse."

[gabriel_tam]

"It will." Quietly, fervently. Gabriel takes a step toward her, then another.

He can't let himself dwell on her instant declaration of trust. Now, he does not say, you trust me now, if not before.

And yet.

"It will. We'll change it. Somehow."

[regan_tam]

Regan looks down.

And, after a minute, nods.

He believes it. She's not sure yet if she does.

She doesn't examine the question closely. It's still too fragile. Everything is too fragile, everything, and tonight is a strong contender for longest evening of her life.

[gabriel_tam]

Her back is still to him as he moves across the room to the window, finally standing beside her once more.

"I do apologize for the near-scene in public, however. I shouldn't have allowed him to goad my temper like that."

Quietly said.

[regan_tam]

A flicker of a sidelong glance at Gabriel.

Just as quietly, "He was very good at it."

[gabriel_tam]

"Knowledge will assist one in such matters," he responds. Neutrally. "And we've met before, as I'm certain you've gathered."

[regan_tam]

"Yes." It could hardly be missed.

She looks out at the city.

Very quietly, "He knew just where to aim."

It's not quite a question. Or, rather, it needn't be. This is perhaps the most delicate of territory, and Regan knows it. She isn't at all sure what she has the right to ask. She's very sure she probably doesn't want to know; she's gotten rather more used to learning anyway, over the past several days.

But she can't stand wondering, either. Not unless it's clear that she has to.

So it's edging by inches towards a question.

[gabriel_tam]

"He did."

The admission comes after several seconds' silence. A long pause.

"How much do you really want to know, Regan?"

[regan_tam]

A longer pause. She's staring out the window.

Low, and tiredly honest: "I don't know."

She looks down at the cityscape, her shoulder slumping a fraction more.

"I probably don't. But at this rate... can I not?" There is no side of this that isn't miserable. Bitterly, "Sooner or later one of them will blurt out anything, it seems."

[gabriel_tam]

"Perhaps they feel no need for discretion there." Or with him, Gabriel does not say. A short silence.

"When you decide how much you wish to know, ask."

[regan_tam]

Silence.

Regan breathes in, and swallows, and nods.

Low, "Not tonight."

She'll ask. She doesn't want to know, but she thinks she needs to.

But not tonight.