who_is_she | (no subject)

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The party was coming to an end, as the music had finally stopped and even the most drunk and willing to party had started to go home. It had been a good night, despite a large portion of it ending up a drunken blur for Wirth. She wasn't quite as drunk now as she had been a few hours ago, but she was definitely still feeling it. Although, that could just be the happiness. The party had been great, surrounded by friends and crewmates, all happy and wishing her well, and now Wirth was free. Not just in the sense of no longer being the employee of an establishment who had betrayed her, but also because she'd finally given up on her resentment and anger, and could now finally live her life again.

The past year had been a whirlwind of emotion, from discovering that she'd been right about the suspicious circumstances of her wife's death to immediately realizing that discovery changed nothing. Madeline was still dead, and Wirth had wasted the last ten years of her life being angry about it. She was moving on, finally, starting over, because it was never too late to try.

She had to be up in a few hours but found she didn't care at all, and instead spent her time sitting at one of the empty tables with her boots kicked up on it, surveying the carnage. The room was destroyed, but Wirth couldn't help but smile at it all as she sat there, sipping the (non-alcoholic) glass of juice one of the assistants had put in her hands.

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Ryan had enjoyed the party, despite not being drunk enough to get into it the way the other guests had. She'd spent some of the night in the corner, with Ayin, in his weird little noise suppression dome, and she'd done some dancing. The veelvisian pirate was a decent enough dancer, and so was her little cyborg captain, and she'd done a few songs with both of them.

Mostly, though, she'd kept watching Wirth. She seemed...happy. Happier than she'd been in the years that she'd known her. It was nice, seeing her like this; Wirth had, and still was, playing a big part in Ryan's reintigration into the world, and it was good to see Wirth recovering from her own trauma in return. When the party started settling down, and Wirth was sitting back, sipping what appeared to be a non-alcoholic beverage now, Ryan decided to make her way over to her.

"Hey," she says, sitting down roughly in a chair beside her and surveying the damage, sipping on a soda she'd pulled out of the bottom of one of the ice chests before she'd come over, "Some party. I didn't know you could go that hard."

Wirth chuckles, tilting her head to give Ryan a sly grin.

"You didn't know me during my academy days," she says, shaking her head, "Now those were parties. The kind where you woke up two days later in a dumpster." She laughs again, still feeling loose and foggy from the alcohol. She'd been so thrilled Ryan had been able to make it; they hadn't seen each other in a few years, too long, and she looked good, like she always did. Wirth kicks her feet down off the table, setting her drink aside so she can reach over and ruffle Ryan's hair.

"We didn't get a chance to talk earlier, did we?" Wirth says, though she's pretty sure she dragged Ryan off for a dance once or twice, the details are a little hazy, "You look good these days, kid," she says, her smile brimming with affection.

"Yeah, well, I tried to talk to you earlier when you dragged me off, but you were too busy making a total ass out of yourself," Ryan says with a slight grin. She crosses her legs and sits back, watching Wirth occasionally out of the corner of her eye. Wirth's ruffling had pulled some of her hair out of its ponytail, and rather than fixing it she reaches behind her head and lets the rest out. It falls to the side, covering one tattooed side of her head but leaving the other visible.

"You look all right too," she says, fixing her eyes on a pair of engineers who were still dancing in the party's wreckage, "Like, less like a sad grandma than you did a few months ago. You look better when you're not scowling."

Wirth laughs, shaking her head, then leans back in her chair and stretches.

"Yeah, thanks. I think," she says brightly, elbowing Ryan, "I feel good. I feel... free." Wirth looks off towards the rest of the room, not really seeing it, "Like, the last ten years were a dream and I only just woke up." She shakes herself a little, feeling embarrassed, and looks back over at Ryan with a bashful smile.

"I guess I'm not quite sober yet if I'm going on about all that," she says apologetically. Though, truthfully, she hadn't really ever spoken to anyone about her feelings revolving her wife's death, except Ryan, though that had been more about being angry about the circumstances than any real feelings.

"Yeah, I think it's going to take a little longer than that for you to sober up," Ryan laughs, "Maybe you should head to bed until your head clears, huh?"

She was happy for Wirth, despite her reluctance to engage in any kind of emotional display with her (or anyone else, for that matter). When the commander had spoken about things to her before it had always been to express her anger at external circumstances, to uncover the conspiracy and get some kind of payback for what had been done, but now that she'd learned that someone else had already been dispensed by someone else, Ryan guessed there hadn't been much left for her to do but turn inward, to really address her own feelings and decide what to do with her grief. It was a process Ryan knew well, one she'd been through herself when Wirth had rescued her from the facility that had stolen her childhood from her. Ryan hadn't navigated her own anger and trauma as positively as Wirth seemed to; when Ryan had first heard the news that Wirth's wife's killers had been discovered, she'd wondered if Wirth might become self-destructive, and lose her direction like Ryan had for years. Wirth's words lift a weight off her shoulders, and she can't help but smile a little wider and more genuinely, as hard as she tries to fight it.

"I...know what that's like, by the way," she says after a pause, leaning forward and looking down at her boots, "It's nice, right?"

Wirth looks over at Ryan, her expression softening with compassion. She remembered well what Ryan had been like when they'd met; angry, destructive, ready to lash out at everyone and everything. At the time, it had suited Wirth perfectly, a year after her wife's death and still thirsting for revenge. Now, she wondered whether or not dealing with her grief sooner could have helped her be a better friend to Ryan, when she needed one.

"Yeah, I guess you do, huh?" Wirth says, nudging Ryan with her shoulder, "It is nice. I had sort of accepted that that was my life, so I... never really expected to feel like this again. Like... I can live my life, you know? I don't have to be guilty." Wirth sighs a little, scratching the back of her neck, and then gives Ryan an appraising look, "Hey, what are you doing right now? I mean... You know, life-wise. Any plans?"

Ryan shrugs at the question, kicking back more of her drink.

"Don't know. Still just running shipments to Alliance vessels right now," she says, "Boring as hell, but it's money. That's all that really matters, I guess. It sucks not working with the same crew all the time, though. And it's mostly dudes in this line of work, which is...fucking annoying, but they know I'll kick their teeth in if they try anything with me. Learned from experience."

Wirth laughs again, grinning at the memory of seeing Ryan kick the snot out of some jackass guy who hit on her. She missed that.

"In that case, I have a... proposition for you," she said, leaning in close to Ryan and lowering her voice, "This company is giving me my own ship again, mostly merchant type cargo but high end stuff--the stuff people pay to protect. Anyways, they've got the crew all hired already but I'd really like to add someone higher up--someone I know and trust, who I can rely on while I settle into a new command with an all new crew." Wirth pauses, losing her train of thought for a moment in the fog of alcohol, "So, what do you say? Want to be my second in command?" she asks, grinning and throwing her arm around Ryan's shoulders.

Ryan stops drinking and squints at her incredulously over the can.

"Is this the same job you offered Ayin a while ago?" she asks, raising one eyebrow.

"Yeah, he mentioned it. Am I really your second choice, or did the rest of your crew reject you too?"

She looks at the arm Wirth has slung over her shoulder.

"Or, and this seems the most likely, are you still totally piss-your-pants drunk and need me to hold your hand and tuck you into bed?"

"No!" Wirth says immediately, affronted, swaying into Ryan, "Well, yes, I'm drunk, but I was going to ask you anyway! And... I knew Ayin wasn't going to accept before I asked. He's not cut out for all this," she waves her hand expressively, "Shit. He's getting out. He deserves that." Wirth pauses a moment, thinking about that, how much she'll miss having Ayin around, then shakes herself.

"As for the rest of the crew, they're all... They're good soldiers. I've never been a good soldier, and I don't need any good soldiers on my crew. And you... You're a terrible soldier," Wirth laughs, helplessly, then turns her grin back towards Ryan, "A bad soldier, but a great person. You're exactly who I need."

"Gee, thanks," Ryan laughs, rolling her eyes, "Tell you what. Why don't you ask me tomorrow when you're not falling all over yourself, and we'll...well, we'll see. Yeah?"

She stands up from her chair and offers Wirth a hand up.

"Come on. I'll make sure you don't get lost on your way to bed."

Wirth takes the hand, grinning, and opens her mouth to make a suggestive joke about Ryan taking her to bed, then freezes. She remembers years ago, when they'd kissed and Wirth had pushed her away, the easy way Ryan had shrugged and left. They hadn't spoken for weeks afterwards, and when they did Ryan had acted like nothing happened. It wasn't something Wirth had ever been able to take lightly, even when she was drunk.

"Yeah," she says finally, after an awkward pause, "That's probably a good idea. See, what would I do without you?"

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