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[never_francesca]

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

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[cactusy]

I understand how people work.

[She quotes the phrasing back at Franky purposefully, and with emphasis.]

Passingly.

[Not with any sort of intimate familiarity or personal experience, in a lot of cases.]

[never_francesca]

[Well, no window there, it turns out. She nods.]

In other words, absolute messes, some of whom are doing their best.

[cactusy]

And what about you?

[Shaw asks, looking up.]

Are you...

[There are a lot of ways that she could finish that question, and she's not sure which one to pick; after a moment, she lands on--]

Doing all right?

[never_francesca]

[She shrugs her shoulders, reaching into a pocket for a half finished cigar and a lighter, looking to Shaw for approval to continue.]

I keep going. I always keep going. Three constants in life - death, taxes, and me buggering on.

[cactusy]

[Shaw waves at the cigar, giving her a nod of assent.]

Four constants. Me buggering on is one, too.

[never_francesca]

[She lit it up then, taking a long drag.]

Four being better than three.

[She sighed, looking over after a moment, curiosity winning out over caution.]

Are you actually doing alright? Asking as...a friend, of course. This place does a number on anyone, let alone someone with things already keeping them up at nights.

[cactusy]

[She hesitates before answering - but in the end, only briefly.]

No. But, uh-- it doesn't matter, you know? Whether I am or not, I keep going.

[never_francesca]

[A brief sigh, and a nod.]

Does to me. You being a person who matters, as a friend and...colleague.

[Because naturally she hasn't caught any feelings from all this, goodness no. She remains, like her native Britain, quite the island, she keeps telling herself.]

[cactusy]

I keep thinking the deals might be fake.

[The words come out of her entirely on their own, without any real imput from her.]

So there's that. I still can't stop thinking that everything here might be fake.

[never_francesca]

[She looks over for a long moment, silent, before nodding.]

I've wondered about the deals, too, more than once. Can't see why not, but...

[She takes a long drag of her cigar.]

About the rest though...aside from knowing I'm real...be a pretty damned lousy pantomime, wouldn't it?

[She laughs a bit.]

You'd think anything powerful enough to produce an illusion so thorough would do a better job of making it believable. This place is like a comic book made by someone out of their bloody mind on something.

[cactusy]

I know. But I think they decided reality-based illusions weren't working. I think they decided to just try to drive me totally insane.

[never_francesca]

[She frowned a bit.]

Who's they?

[cactusy]

The people who...

[She sighs, knowing exactly how insane this sounds.]

The people who might have me strapped to a bed in a lab right now.

[never_francesca]

[A little bit. But where are they standing now? She winces.]

No wonder you can't fucking tell.

[Given how rarely she outwardly swears...]

[cactusy]

Yeah? So I'm not hopelessly, pointlessly crazy?

[It's said with a wan little grin - an attempt at genuine humor.]

[never_francesca]

No more than the rest of us.

[And taken as one.]

[cactusy]

[Shaw nods slowly, accepting that answer. It doesn't exactly feel true, but it doesn't feel like a platitude or a white lie, either.]

You're a good friend and colleague to me too, you know. You matter.

[never_francesca]

[She isn't entirely sure what to make of that, what it means to her - though she knows it's high praise coming from Shaw.]

At this point, I think you've proven that rather well.