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[never_francesca]

You’ve reached Commander Cook. Leave a message and I will respond shortly.

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[cactusy]

Do you know what virtual reality is? Have you been in the Enclosure?

[never_francesca]

Place keeps me sane, half the time. Only place I get to fly.

[All said with a nod.]

[cactusy]

Okay.

I think the whole Barge is like the Enclosure.

[never_francesca]

[She wants to scoff at that, but instead - instead she just stays quiet for a long moment, thinking about it. Turning it over in her mind. She doesn't dismiss it - Shaw's already earned that much in her book - and it's a long time before she speaks again, having taken another sip of her drink.]

Well, I haven't any real proof it isn't, but then again we wouldn't for anything - save, of course, going all the way back to Descartes and the bloody basics: cogito ergo sum.

[She shrugs.]

I think, therefore, I am - we're real beings, even if the universe around us is artificial.

[cactusy]

I don't know for sure that you are, though. I'm not in your head.

[A pause, and then she adds--]

And you don't know that I am.

[never_francesca]

I'm prepared to take your reality on faith.

[She pauses, lifting her glass and looking at Shaw over it.]

Besides, why would a simulation toss a one-eyed British pilot at you?

[cactusy]

Maybe to lull me into a false sense of security. Give me someone I could relate to.

[never_francesca]

[She arches an eyebrow at that.]

I guess I'll take that much as a compliment, at least. But surely all the absurdity around us would negate that.

[cactusy]

No.

[She shakes her head, her brow furrowing.]

No, that's to drive me insane. They need to hit on the right combination to break me - eighty, ninety percent to mess with my head, and then just a little bit to make me think I can bring myself back. The Enclosure and breaches and mind-control vampires most of the time, but also people like you or B, every once in a while.

[never_francesca]

[Someone's done a number on this woman in the other world, that much is for sure. She leans in a bit, brow furrowing.]

Who's they?

I can also think of a couple of better ways to do that.

[cactusy]

Oh, yeah?

[She asks instead of answering, lifting her gaze to meet Franky's.]

[never_francesca]

Ever go flying at night?

[She nods]

Got lost once, when I was just starting out. Gets dark enough, moonless night, over water - you lose track of everything. Time, up, down and you end up inverted without even knowing it. So you end up going to gain altitude and more than one pilot under the circumstances has ended up in the drink.

I got lucky, moon came out from behind the cloud cover - but surely there's cheaper ways to get the job done. Just lock someone in a dark room long enough, probably.

[cactusy]

Yeah.

But for some people, money's no object. And anyway, I have training. Solitary confinement is one of the things they prepared us for in special ops.

[VR simulation torture, though? Not so much.]

[never_francesca]

Tell me about it.

Still, though. Damned stupid way to go about breaking someone. You'd think chemicals, or something. Surgery. Some sort of mind-control device.

[cactusy]

[The hand that isn't holding her drink moves up to touch behind her left ear, prodding lightly at the skin there.]

Oh - they did some of that, too.

[Maybe. They had in some of the simulations, anyway.]

[never_francesca]

In any event.

[She downs the rest of her drink, moving to pour another.]

I assure you I am real, because I'm not going to let this place drive you 'round the bend. Simple as that. I'll make you that deal, right now - you ever need a calm harbour, I'll make one for you.

[Because Shaw has clearly been through her own personal hells, and nobody deserves to take that much flak unassisted. This is Franky Cook, at her core.]

How's that for fair, eh? Bottoms up.

[cactusy]

I mean, I appreciate the sentiment. It would probably work for most people.

[It's not Franky's fault that offers like that tend to just fall into the yawning maw of emptiness inside her.]

Bottom's up, though, I can do.

[And she finishes off her second drink - in record time, on an empty stomach. Mmmmmmm.]

[never_francesca]

It works for all people.

[she points at her emphatically with her glass in her hand, one finger extended.]

Never, ever fly without a wingman. Or wingwoman, in this case. Bog standard, that.

[And she regards her over her glass.]

What makes you the exception?

[cactusy]

I don't really feel things the way other people do.

[She gives a wry, humorless smile, reaching for the bottle yet again.]

Except gratitude for alcohol. I can do that one okay.

[never_francesca]

Ah, good, basic manners. Can't go feral, can we?"

[Said with a wry look herself, but there's a bit more warmth in it than Shaw's.]

I'm not looking for thanks or good-feeling. It isn't an offer, it's there, real. Because I know somebody who's done knife-work in close quarters when I see them - so have I.

The whole 'go-it-alone' thing isn't a survival tactic. Sure as hell isn't anti-madness, either.

[cactusy]

When I first got here, I asked all the counselors to be on my ass.

[So there's that.]

Truth is, I've always been good at alone. I'm guessing you're not so bad at it yourself. Women in the military, right?

[never_francesca]

Ah, well, if you've got the eggheads you've got everything, then, haven't you?

[Said with more than a little bit of sarcasm.]

And I was, by default. Being first can be a bloody pain. Over China, though, fighting the Japanese? There I was never alone. Not many people I could trust, but combat has a way of telling you who you can and can't very fast.

[cactusy]

I have a team. At home.

[At home. Not here.]

The people you could trust - were they in your unit? Close by?

[never_francesca]

[At home - well, at least she's a little bit past the reality/unreality bit.]

They were. Some lived. Some didn't.

[cactusy]

[Wordlessly, Shaw reaches across the table to clink her glass against Franky's - a toast to the absent and the lost.]