"Pff whatever. You stop me from getting punched in the face one time." He rolls his eyes and waves her off.
He's not quite sure where that memory came from, but ... that's how memories work, right? He tries to think about the time that specifically happened, but it's ... fuzzy. He remembers a cafeteria, a woman with blonde hair, and that's about it. Maybe he's hungover. That might explain it.
Church shifts like he's about to reach out to her, but he stops. "Wh- you don't have to leave. Not that I'm gonna be broken up about it if you do, but. Why don't we catch up? Y'know ... get a drink or something?"
She nods slowly. "All right, Church." She's not sure what the people who run the lab were intending to do if this sort of situation came up, and she's not sure she can lead him away to reach the mess hall or anything. But that's not her problem, is it? "I don't suppose you know of a good bar around here," she adds, but it seems they were prepared for this eventuality and a guard comes in with a couple of cans of juice to hand to her.
"Juice?" she says, almost seeming prepared to throw the cans back at the guard.
Church squints at the can. "He-ey, all right! Mango," he says, then looks to Tex when he hears her tone. He scoffs. "Oh don't be a baby. Maybe there's some vodka around here or something. Could make some shots."
It's funny how the lab setting and the delivery by armored guards doesn't phase him. What is going on in his programming, she wonders, that makes his perceptions so filtered? She shakes her head and brings the juice over, handing him one of the cans.
"I don't think we'll find any alcohol," she says. "But it does sound good, I guess."
"Huh? I mean, we're in -" He pauses and looks around, actually looks around, for the first time. "A lab? That's kind of ... weird. Hey Tex, where uh, where are we exactly?"
Mm, okay, that's more like what she was expecting. She's here to convince him he's in the Blue forces though, so that's the line she's going to stick with, at least until she can find some way to signal to him that she's going to try to spring him from the place.
She shakes her head. "Don't get lost next time you're on patrol, then, Church." Her juice remains unopened—these robots are capable of eating and drinking, but she isn't in the mood for this. Not seeing the state he's in.
But she's supposed to be putting him at ease. She tilts her head just a bit, looking at him, then pops the top.
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I'm a dude, I don't get lost. I just. Y'know. Wasn't paying attention. In the base. Uh." He feels his face heat up again and he looks away. "Right."
What are they supposed to talk about as they 'catch up', anyway? She can't tell him the truth. She can't talk about trying to rescue him, about how she had to leave him behind. About how she's been dodging the Meta and the Director's forces since then, about how she agreed to come back to help him through all this. She can't say a word.
She'll just have to make things up, then. Take the little pieces of memories Church still has of her time in Freelancer and see what picture the two of them can make out of it with some discussion. "I've been keeping busy since you enlisted," she says. "Lots of travel. Lots of jobs to complete."
This is the first glimpse she's had into the distortion of Leonard's memories in Church's programming. It gives her a twinge, the way it comes out so casually, but going along with it is probably the best way to get him to accept things being the way they are. It occurs to her, too, that distancing the two of them through latching on to this memory will make certain things less painful.
"You'd like to feel that unique, wouldn't you?" she says.
"No," she says. These bodies could eat and drink, and could pass for human if you didn't look too closely, but she's sort of not in the mood to make things easy on him.
"That's a good way to get your way." She approaches and holds her can out in front of him. "Here, take this." Once he does—if he does—she'll remove his helmet for him.
"I could throw this in your visor instead if you want," she says. But she put the can in his hand, undid the catches on his helmet, and carefully lifted it off. It's been a long time since she removed her own helmet—not since she realized who and what she is—and she doesn't think she's going to do it now. Not unless he manages to make her feel bad for deciding not to. She sets his helmet down on a nearby lab table and takes her can back from him.
Church shakes his head once his helmet's off. "Thanks," he says, his voice soft. But then the tone's gone when he grins at her. "I knew you couldn't resist me, Tex."
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He's not quite sure where that memory came from, but ... that's how memories work, right? He tries to think about the time that specifically happened, but it's ... fuzzy. He remembers a cafeteria, a woman with blonde hair, and that's about it. Maybe he's hungover. That might explain it.
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"Juice?" she says, almost seeming prepared to throw the cans back at the guard.
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"I don't think we'll find any alcohol," she says. "But it does sound good, I guess."
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"You don't know your own base?" she asks him.
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"It's not like I'm memorizing the details of the damn base every time I look around," he snaps, though it's pretty weak.
He really should recognize it. He just ... doesn't get why he can't.
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But she's supposed to be putting him at ease. She tilts her head just a bit, looking at him, then pops the top.
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She'll just have to make things up, then. Take the little pieces of memories Church still has of her time in Freelancer and see what picture the two of them can make out of it with some discussion. "I've been keeping busy since you enlisted," she says. "Lots of travel. Lots of jobs to complete."
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"Yeah? Still banging dudes and stealing their wallets?" He asks, fond, almost. Teasing. "Or'd you move onto girls now, too? Does that count as a job?"
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"You'd like to feel that unique, wouldn't you?" she says.
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"Uh. Shit. You wanna hold this for me?" He asks, holding out the can. Why is he even wearing a helmet?
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