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Elizabeth wished she could enjoy the Enterprise the way Booker did. He behaved like none of it was real and she was so jealous of his light-hearted nature. Everything about the ship reminded her of some past tragedy. The ship itself was too much like Rapture with its enclosed spaces and lack of proper breezes. That, she thought, was why she was having nightmares again. There wasn't much difference between the bottom of the ocean and the middle of space, when it came down to it.

Despite being made of her memories the dreams were never quite the same each time. Sometimes her dream was of Columbia and her 'father's hands laying on her shoulders in prayer after a spinal tap before it merged and flowed into Rapture and Atlas. Sometimes it was just that moment in her life replayed in perfect clarity. It always ended the same way. One final tap of the hammer and she would be lobotomized. She was one little motion away from not caring, from laying down her burdens.

The terror came from how seductive that still was to her. The depression was easing, but it ebbed and flowed, coming and going. Right now she couldn't push her demons away. Her life was objectively good and it terrified her to think of losing it all again. Despite herself she saw Killian's appearance as a bad omen. The thought of losing Anne or Booker was enough to keep her up at night without her bad memories interfering.

She sat in the bar in her pajamas and bathrobe. A glass of wine sat on the table in front of her, next to a sketchpad and charcoals. Both were untouched. She apparently preferred to stare at them and brood. She looked as upset as she felt: her jaw was slack, her eyes unfocused, brow furrowed somewhat at her thoughts and memories.

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That he ran so hot was curious to Elizabeth, but it certainly wasn't appropriate to ask why right then. It wasn't as though she was displeased he thought he could protect himself from her. The overconfident were easier to trick and outsmart.

There was one thing that would certainly take her mind off her problems. It had worked so many times before. She nodded and gave him a small, tired smile. "Do you dance? That usually wears me out enough to sleep."

Edited 2015-04-27 00:47 (UTC)

He'd be less confident if he hadn't already - several times - defended himself against someone with ice based powers.

Really he couldn't say he had one thing which always worked - but he was glad others had that ability. "I do actually. What do you prefer?"

"I've always wanted to learn to tango. It looks so elegant and-" she blushed, remembering she was talking to a man more than old enough to be her father. "Fun," she amended. Sensual also applied, but that was not a quality to espouse unless she was interested in flirting. Maybe later. Erik was, despite his age, quite good conversation and he loved children. As a single mother those were qualities she valued a lot.

"Of course if you'd rather do something else that's fine with me. The holodeck can accommodate any time period and style of dance we like. I just learned some twenty first century dances and I can do almost any dance popular in the fifties."

He flashed a smile, it was quick and bright, much like a solar flare, the effect lingered on his face after the smile vanished. "I happen to be fairly well acquainted with tango, I learned while I was in Brazil." More than 'fairly well' in fact, he was championship level. And it wasn't something he was able to indulge much in.

His smile inspired Elizabeth to smile as well. He had such a dour demeanor most of the time and she was happy to please him. "Then I'm in good hands." She stood, offering a hand to Erik. "Shall we go to the holodeck? I'm certain it has a suitable program."

Dour was a good word for it, and plenty - including him - would have liked to place the blame on the shadows of the past. But he'd always been a rather serious, prideful child who'd only shown the warmer side of his personality to those he was closest to. Still, women and children he had a soft spot for. He took her hand well worn and calloused from hard work, but his touch was gentle and sure.

"Sure. I actually haven't been in there many times."

"I planned to ignore them at first. I thought they would be too tantalizing but the last time I got too caught up in a project I didn't have a baby to care for. They're marvelous. I've been making art in them, bringing Degas paintings to three dimensional animation."

She squeezed his hand, her own calloused only from playing guitar, but strong nonetheless. There was little physical work to be done on the Enterprise. "I do have something to ask, but a private location is better. I think it will be a loaded topic." She spoke carefully, but she didn't show any fear. She'd tipped her hand first and maybe it would be good to talk to someone about her new and ever-changing abilities.

"I understand the worry - I tend to avoid them myself for similar reasons, but the needs of a child, they will keep you grounded." Or they should have. Something he supposed was much easier if the child was near-by and depending on you, verses being raised by someone else. "But that does sound a wonderful use for it."

He returned the squeeze with an encouraging smile. "Oh course." He wouldn't guess at the topic, not yet. There were too many it could be. "Let's head over then?"

Elizabeth nodded and led the way to her favorite holosuite. Her slippers made little squeaks as she walked, which amused her greatly. She was quiet as they walked but it was (to her), a comfortable silence. Small talk was still too big a task for her.

The suite was empty so she led the way in, calling up an appropriate program. The program chose suitable attire which she admired for a moment. The red suited her quite well. Once she had examine her outfit she turned to look at what her partner was wearing, and to address him. "Are you weird too?"

He was willing to allow her to lead and content to allow the comfortable silence to grow. Not that things are really silent for him - a starship is a noisy place for someone with his sense, but it's mostly learned to filter it to background noise.

His own matched her's well, and he smiled, always a little amused at how these things worked and how well. "Weird? Probably, in every way you could mean. But how do you mean it?"

His outfit suited him quite well. Elizabeth couldn't help but admire how he looked. Her admiration didn't distract her from the conversation, but she still took a moment to answer. She wanted to be clear and inoffensive if possible.

Finally, she clarified. "I can feel something strange about you. You carry yourself like... I mean-" she huffed, irritated with herself. "Do you have powers too? Other than being hot, that is." She blushed and rubbed her face. "I meant that temperature wise, but you do look good in those clothes."

He knew the outfit suited him - her's suited her - and he knew he wore it well. It was a confidence that showed but he wasn't flaunting it. Just very comfortable.

Still, he was focused, allowing her to think and phrase what she meant. But her phrasing made him laugh, amused, flattered, but mostly it wasn't something he hadn't heard before. "English is a funny language, isn't it? But thank you. You wear your dress very well." He took a breath, and considered how much to answer. "Yes, I have powers. It's a very focused type of energy manipulation, as a result, my body temperature it quite high."

Elizabeth smiled at his compliment, bowing her head to silently accept it. She knew she looked good. It was nice to dress up and be appreciated, even if it was just by a friend.

She noticed his hesitation, which made her a little uncertain herself. In the City the powered people had been wary. It made her sad that Erik seemed to also be from a place where he had to hide. "I've known a few people with powers in my time. My best friend used to be a telekinetic. I mean, she still is but she's not here." Truthfully, Elizabeth wasn't sure they were even friends, at the end. What kind of friend would abandon her when she needed people the most?

She shook away her dark thoughts and held her hand out to Erik. "Thank you for your honesty. Now, how is this dance done?"