aimedforthemoon | (no subject)

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Esfir's room is a normal, hotel-style room. Plush carpet, plain curtains framing large windows, of which one is open. But it's also neat. She's an astronaut, and they are always neat.

Her bed is made, her books and manuls either neatly stacked on her desk, or neatly against a wall, but in a slight divergence she also has models on her desk.

A MiG-21PF.

A Soyez rocket.

An RZ-1 A-wing.

And after she ushers Billy in, she locks the door behind them without even being aware of it.

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Billy trails in while she locks the door. He feels uncomfortable in her space.

The little models on her desk draw his attention, and he trails one finger over the wing of the A-Wing.

"Starfighter," she says, with a sudden soft smile. "Only people who are crazy, or brave fly them. Or, so I'm told."

"A-Wing, right? These are-- we don't have these on my world." He's not going to tell her how he knows about them, though. "Do you know someone around here who flies in one?"

"In one? No. But, Han needs pilots and we're friends, so I offered."

"Oh, so you're going to be flying it?" If he sounds a little choked, that's because he is. She may be pronouncing it wrong, but there's no way he can not associate an A-wing with... well.

She'll blame it on the shock starting to break.

"Oh. Yes. Beautiful fighters."

"Yeah? I don't really like flying in a plane, but I've never been in anything fast."

"Oh.

Dear.

Billy."

The tragedy of his life is now so very, very clear.

"What? It's not like there are spare Quinjets lying around, waiting for me to take them for a spin. Besides, I can fly without a plane."

Grudgingly,

"I suppose."

"You'll have to show me, one day, then."

"I will."

If she, and Han, survive the battle.

"Um, Billy?"

Billy had been staging a mock-battle with two of the models. He puts them back down. "Yeah?"

"Would-would you like some advice?"

He's a little at sea right now. "If you think it will help?"

Billy's face looks young, and his arms are wrapped around his own torso. He looks less than seventeen, somehow.

He reminds her, somehow, impossibly, of her brother.

"I hope so. It's...in my country, it's...we have two faces. The face we show the world, and the face we keep inside, behind safe doors and shown only to friends and family. It's so we can cope, so we have somewhere safe where we can be ourselves, no matter what is happening outside.

It's...even here. Downstairs, I am Esfir Shostakovna. I am reserved, and polite, but...in here? I can be Fira.

I think you need to do something similar, else you won't came out of this as Billy."

"How-- how can you do that? Be two different people?" He knows a little about duality. He is Wiccan, and Billy, but at the end of the day Wiccan still feels like putting on a cape and a headband, like a little boy playing dressup.

Esfir - Fira - makes a face, thinking. Which in itself is different from downstairs.

"I don't know how to describe it. But, it's with the door. Door open, I'm in public. Door closed, I'm in private. Maybe start to think...outside your house or room - pick something - bad things happen. But it's outside, happening to William Kaplan, or...whatever. But that's outside.

Inside, you are Billy, and it's safe to be open and loving, with your family and friends and...boyfriend. Inside is where you can keep you. But once you leave inside, that is now behind a door so you can't get so badly hurt.

Or, it's harder."

"That- that's good advice, Esfir." He nods. "But how do you know who to -- close the door for?"

"Fira," she corrects, almost absently. Yes-fir, Fir-uh.

"People you trust. Those you live with now? If you trust them? Keep on trusting. Other people...well, back home, we would get someone else to check them. If they say they are oke, they are oke."

And, yes, living in the Soviet Union in the aftermath of Stalin's purges makes a society very, very paranoid.

"Fira." He repeats, to himself. It's difficult to keep straight. "You-- trust me?"

She would argue no more than Billy vs William.

"I...am taking a risk that I can."

"I won't disappoint you. I hope."

"It's all anyone can ask. But, you can trust me, too. It goes both ways."

"Thank you. Again. I keep saying that."

He's really floored, though.

A quick smile.

"I don't mind. As long as you don't say it agian."

He nods seriously. "I will do my best."

"And...Good luck, Billy."

Edited 2008-09-09 09:19 (UTC)

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