starandrea (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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starsfic2009-06-05 12:29 am
starandrea) wrote in starsfic2009-06-05 12:29 am
Entry tags:
"I'm not trying to hide anything, I wear it on my sleeve" (mercyme)
"I'm not trying to be something I'm not, this is all I've got
I'm not trying to re-invent the wheel, just trying to be real
I'm not trying to say follow me, I'm not the one who leads
Let me introduce myself to you, this is who I am
No more, no less, I am just a man who understands
Because of you I'm blessed, no more, no less"
~MercyMe, "No More, No Less"
For previous entries tagged "straight up,"
click and scroll down (reverse chronology).
the nature of the contract
The other Rangers forgot how well he could hear. The other Rangers--but not Ziggy. Ziggy had once conducted an extensive test, the results of which Dillon could only assume he hadn't shared with the rest of the team, determining exactly what Dillon could hear and from where.
So when Ziggy walked right past him on his way into the training room, leaving the doors open behind him, Dillon figured he was supposed to overhear the exchange that followed.
"Hey, Dr. K," Ziggy said cheerfully. "You busy?"
"Would saying 'yes' make you go away?" she replied.
"Only if you qualified it with 'something very large is about to explode."
"In that case," she said, and the pause was definitely deliberate. "No more so than usual."
"Great!" He could picture Ziggy getting ready to ask his question of the day. Hour. Whatever. "How do you feel about cheating?"
Dillon raised an eyebrow. He wondered if seeing Ziggy's expression made the question easier to interpret. The person he was asking didn't seem to have any trouble, so maybe it did.
"The possibility of cheating in itself indicates that a rule is breakable," she replied. "This proves the underlying scientific principle is flawed. Therefore the act of cheating, whenever possible, is necessary to advance our understanding of natural laws."
"Uh, no," Ziggy said. "That's not what I'm talking about."
"Then you'll have to be more specific."
He could hear the constant click of keys beneath their conversation. It was at the edge of his awareness unless he concentrated on it, and it was possible that knowing it was there made it easier to pick out. The fact that her initial reply had been longer than a sentence meant she was taking Ziggy seriously, but she wasn't stumped until she stopped typing.
"I mean, cheating in a relationship," Ziggy said. "A... personal relationship. Like someone you're dating, right? How do you feel about that kind of cheating?"
"You'll have to define cheating in that context," she said.
"Cheating," Ziggy insisted. "Like when you're seeing someone and they start seeing someone else. Without telling you."
The clicking stopped, and her voice didn't change but the words were dangerous. "Why wouldn't they tell me?"
Ziggy, Dillon thought. What are you doing?
"Oh--no!" Ziggy sounded startled, his tone sliding into horrified as he babbled, "No, that's not what I--they didn't! He isn't! No one is doing anything! Well, I'm asking you a question, but. No one is doing anything without telling you, I swear!"
"I see." She wasn't smiling, but there was an amusement in her voice that only Ziggy could provoke. Her face would be lighter, now, looking down at the keyboard in an effort to keep anyone from noticing.
He wished he could see it.
"So?" Ziggy prompted after a moment.
"My original answer stands," she replied. "The act of cheating indicates the underlying relationship is flawed. Communication is vital in any interpersonal interaction, and if language fails to define its absence, then actions will suffice."
It was exactly 4.8 seconds before Ziggy said, "So, wait." Not that Dillon was counting or anything. "Cheating tells you that you're not talking?"
"By your definition, yes."
"But how do you define cheating?" he insisted.
"I don't," she said, like it was obvious. "Clearly, the nature of a cheat depends on the contract being cheated. It changes from one situation to the next."
Ziggy must have given her a totally helpless look, because she sighed. Well, she didn't sigh, but the way she spoke made if clear she'd just lowered her shoulders. That was her version of a sigh, and Dillon found it very efficient. It didn't waste any time she could have spent explaining the problem.
"If you go out and get ice cream right now," she said, "you're not cheating. But if you and I have previously agreed to go on an ice cream-free diet together, and you go out and get ice cream while telling me that you are still adhering to the terms of our agreement, you're cheating."
"Uh, okay," Ziggy agreed. "But cheating on a diet isn't exactly the same as cheating in a relationship."
Her tone clearly said, I fail to see the difference, but what actually came out was, "Only if you value the relationship with whomever you're dating over the relationship with your dieting partner."
"No," Ziggy said. "No, that's not it at all. If you go on a diet there are rules. You spell it out, right? In a relationship there are expectations, assumptions, that kind of thing. It's implicit. Totally different relationship, totally different cheat."
"Assumptions aren't scientific," she replied. "I don't make them."
Dillon heard her start typing again, but Ziggy wasn't done. "Okay, so, do you and Dillon have rules? About what you can and can't do?"
Yes, Dillon thought.
"No," she said. "Why?"
"Ah, then why did you get all upset when I asked what you would do if Dillon was seeing someone else and didn't tell you?" Ziggy wanted to know. "It's a rule that he can't see other people, right?"
"I did not get 'all upset,'" she retorted. "You didn't even mention him. I simply expressed a wish for clarification."
"Is it," Ziggy said, very clearly, "a rule that he can't see other people. Yes or no."
Her pause was shorter than any of Ziggy's, but it felt longer. Not typing again.
"No," she said at last. "We haven't discussed it, so, no. It's not a rule."
"Let's discuss it," Ziggy said. His voice was audibly closer to the door when he added, "Come on."
She definitely hadn't moved when she replied, "I have--at times--appreciated your efforts to intervene. But I don't see why it's called for in this instance. If Dillon wishes to define the parameters of our... relationship, I think allowing someone else to speak in his stead is counterproductive."
"No, he's not the one who wants to define it," Ziggy assured her. "I am."
She asked exactly what Dillon was thinking. "Why?"
"Because I want to ask him out," Ziggy said. "I gotta know if that's a problem. I mean, not the--just the asking. 'Cause he'll ask me, you know? If it is or not. And I don't know. I mean, for most people it would be, but you guys are kind of... weird.
"In a good way," he added hastily. "Don't get me wrong, but. Um. Is it?"
He sounded like he was cringing.
"You want to ask Dillon out," she repeated.
"Yes?"
She barely waited for him to answer. "Well, that's all right then." The click of keys accentuated her words. "We don't have to discuss that."
Dillon thought, We don't?
"Yeah, we do," Ziggy said. On this he was very clear. "You say you don't have any rules, but Dillon expects stuff he doesn't even know, let alone admit. I'm actually asking you first because I think you're less likely to kill me. Which is kind of ironic, given the number of times he's saved me from things you got me into, but whatever."
"You must be exaggerating," she said. "Dillon has explicitly stated that I'm at the top of his so far hypothetical 'to kill' list. And he has certainly implied that you are at the bottom."
Dillon shook his head. Were they seriously arguing over which of them he was more likely to kill?
"That's old data," Ziggy said. "I'm introducing a new variable. All bets are off."
He'd had enough. "Ziggy," he said, raising his voice. "How long am I supposed to pretend I can't hear you?"
The reply was immediate. "Kind of surprised you lasted this long!"
Dillon took this as permission to join them. At least, permission from Ziggy. He stood in the door, waiting for acknowledgment from the other half of the conversation. "Mind if I come in?" he asked, when she just sat there staring at him.
"Did you put him up to this?" she wanted to know.
He figured that was as close to permission as he was gonna get. "No," he said, pushing away from the door. "But I think it took a lot of guts to say it."
Ziggy was wearing his blank face, the one he only got when he didn't want anyone to know what he was thinking but couldn't come up with anything to cover it.
"Then," she said, "I understand we have something to discuss?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "So I hear."
I'm not trying to re-invent the wheel, just trying to be real
I'm not trying to say follow me, I'm not the one who leads
Let me introduce myself to you, this is who I am
No more, no less, I am just a man who understands
Because of you I'm blessed, no more, no less"
~MercyMe, "No More, No Less"
For previous entries tagged "straight up,"
click and scroll down (reverse chronology).
The other Rangers forgot how well he could hear. The other Rangers--but not Ziggy. Ziggy had once conducted an extensive test, the results of which Dillon could only assume he hadn't shared with the rest of the team, determining exactly what Dillon could hear and from where.
So when Ziggy walked right past him on his way into the training room, leaving the doors open behind him, Dillon figured he was supposed to overhear the exchange that followed.
"Hey, Dr. K," Ziggy said cheerfully. "You busy?"
"Would saying 'yes' make you go away?" she replied.
"Only if you qualified it with 'something very large is about to explode."
"In that case," she said, and the pause was definitely deliberate. "No more so than usual."
"Great!" He could picture Ziggy getting ready to ask his question of the day. Hour. Whatever. "How do you feel about cheating?"
Dillon raised an eyebrow. He wondered if seeing Ziggy's expression made the question easier to interpret. The person he was asking didn't seem to have any trouble, so maybe it did.
"The possibility of cheating in itself indicates that a rule is breakable," she replied. "This proves the underlying scientific principle is flawed. Therefore the act of cheating, whenever possible, is necessary to advance our understanding of natural laws."
"Uh, no," Ziggy said. "That's not what I'm talking about."
"Then you'll have to be more specific."
He could hear the constant click of keys beneath their conversation. It was at the edge of his awareness unless he concentrated on it, and it was possible that knowing it was there made it easier to pick out. The fact that her initial reply had been longer than a sentence meant she was taking Ziggy seriously, but she wasn't stumped until she stopped typing.
"I mean, cheating in a relationship," Ziggy said. "A... personal relationship. Like someone you're dating, right? How do you feel about that kind of cheating?"
"You'll have to define cheating in that context," she said.
"Cheating," Ziggy insisted. "Like when you're seeing someone and they start seeing someone else. Without telling you."
The clicking stopped, and her voice didn't change but the words were dangerous. "Why wouldn't they tell me?"
Ziggy, Dillon thought. What are you doing?
"Oh--no!" Ziggy sounded startled, his tone sliding into horrified as he babbled, "No, that's not what I--they didn't! He isn't! No one is doing anything! Well, I'm asking you a question, but. No one is doing anything without telling you, I swear!"
"I see." She wasn't smiling, but there was an amusement in her voice that only Ziggy could provoke. Her face would be lighter, now, looking down at the keyboard in an effort to keep anyone from noticing.
He wished he could see it.
"So?" Ziggy prompted after a moment.
"My original answer stands," she replied. "The act of cheating indicates the underlying relationship is flawed. Communication is vital in any interpersonal interaction, and if language fails to define its absence, then actions will suffice."
It was exactly 4.8 seconds before Ziggy said, "So, wait." Not that Dillon was counting or anything. "Cheating tells you that you're not talking?"
"By your definition, yes."
"But how do you define cheating?" he insisted.
"I don't," she said, like it was obvious. "Clearly, the nature of a cheat depends on the contract being cheated. It changes from one situation to the next."
Ziggy must have given her a totally helpless look, because she sighed. Well, she didn't sigh, but the way she spoke made if clear she'd just lowered her shoulders. That was her version of a sigh, and Dillon found it very efficient. It didn't waste any time she could have spent explaining the problem.
"If you go out and get ice cream right now," she said, "you're not cheating. But if you and I have previously agreed to go on an ice cream-free diet together, and you go out and get ice cream while telling me that you are still adhering to the terms of our agreement, you're cheating."
"Uh, okay," Ziggy agreed. "But cheating on a diet isn't exactly the same as cheating in a relationship."
Her tone clearly said, I fail to see the difference, but what actually came out was, "Only if you value the relationship with whomever you're dating over the relationship with your dieting partner."
"No," Ziggy said. "No, that's not it at all. If you go on a diet there are rules. You spell it out, right? In a relationship there are expectations, assumptions, that kind of thing. It's implicit. Totally different relationship, totally different cheat."
"Assumptions aren't scientific," she replied. "I don't make them."
Dillon heard her start typing again, but Ziggy wasn't done. "Okay, so, do you and Dillon have rules? About what you can and can't do?"
Yes, Dillon thought.
"No," she said. "Why?"
"Ah, then why did you get all upset when I asked what you would do if Dillon was seeing someone else and didn't tell you?" Ziggy wanted to know. "It's a rule that he can't see other people, right?"
"I did not get 'all upset,'" she retorted. "You didn't even mention him. I simply expressed a wish for clarification."
"Is it," Ziggy said, very clearly, "a rule that he can't see other people. Yes or no."
Her pause was shorter than any of Ziggy's, but it felt longer. Not typing again.
"No," she said at last. "We haven't discussed it, so, no. It's not a rule."
"Let's discuss it," Ziggy said. His voice was audibly closer to the door when he added, "Come on."
She definitely hadn't moved when she replied, "I have--at times--appreciated your efforts to intervene. But I don't see why it's called for in this instance. If Dillon wishes to define the parameters of our... relationship, I think allowing someone else to speak in his stead is counterproductive."
"No, he's not the one who wants to define it," Ziggy assured her. "I am."
She asked exactly what Dillon was thinking. "Why?"
"Because I want to ask him out," Ziggy said. "I gotta know if that's a problem. I mean, not the--just the asking. 'Cause he'll ask me, you know? If it is or not. And I don't know. I mean, for most people it would be, but you guys are kind of... weird.
"In a good way," he added hastily. "Don't get me wrong, but. Um. Is it?"
He sounded like he was cringing.
"You want to ask Dillon out," she repeated.
"Yes?"
She barely waited for him to answer. "Well, that's all right then." The click of keys accentuated her words. "We don't have to discuss that."
Dillon thought, We don't?
"Yeah, we do," Ziggy said. On this he was very clear. "You say you don't have any rules, but Dillon expects stuff he doesn't even know, let alone admit. I'm actually asking you first because I think you're less likely to kill me. Which is kind of ironic, given the number of times he's saved me from things you got me into, but whatever."
"You must be exaggerating," she said. "Dillon has explicitly stated that I'm at the top of his so far hypothetical 'to kill' list. And he has certainly implied that you are at the bottom."
Dillon shook his head. Were they seriously arguing over which of them he was more likely to kill?
"That's old data," Ziggy said. "I'm introducing a new variable. All bets are off."
He'd had enough. "Ziggy," he said, raising his voice. "How long am I supposed to pretend I can't hear you?"
The reply was immediate. "Kind of surprised you lasted this long!"
Dillon took this as permission to join them. At least, permission from Ziggy. He stood in the door, waiting for acknowledgment from the other half of the conversation. "Mind if I come in?" he asked, when she just sat there staring at him.
"Did you put him up to this?" she wanted to know.
He figured that was as close to permission as he was gonna get. "No," he said, pushing away from the door. "But I think it took a lot of guts to say it."
Ziggy was wearing his blank face, the one he only got when he didn't want anyone to know what he was thinking but couldn't come up with anything to cover it.
"Then," she said, "I understand we have something to discuss?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "So I hear."