AN: This is an older story and a follow-up piece to Dusting Off. Officially it's called nothing, because I did not name it. Unofficially, it's Ivy's Story. She wanted to see Han and Leia's first meeting after the events of Dusting Off. Woot yay happiness.
It's easy to lose track of symbolism when you leave it in the fresher.
She hadn't realized it until she'd found the most striking bit of symbolism she had to her name tucked in the alcove. She'd been wiping the makeup from her face, head bowed beneath the harsh glare of the medical light above the sink, when a glint had caught her eye on the wall. She'd moved quickly away from the sink, her left eye still smeared with the dark accoutrements of her façade, and stepped back to inspect it.
It was a tinny, mild light, too soft to belong to the light above the sink. She crept closer, willingly distracted. The metallic hue of the wall offset the refracted light, and it was vaguely misshaped, with blurred edges and a slue of colors radiating from a central pinprick.
She pressed her fingers against the speck of light, watched it hop onto the back of her hand, then return to the wall when she moved to the side again. She crept along the wall, hand holding her weight, pushing her hair behind her shoulder as she tried desperately not to get annoyed. It was a piece of refracted light, after all. It's not like this was ….
Well, it was a simple problem she could solve without using any of her "well-developed" skills. No deceit, no false identities, no masks or lies to force out of her mouth like the ordinary, innocent words she used to use. Here was simplicity and the kind of straightforward, empirical problem that she so rarely saw.
She sighed and straightened up, catching her reflection in the mirror before her. She glared at the woman she didn't think she was, with a low-cut bodice and a cropped haircut, and wondered exactly who it was that peered back at her. It was hard to remember, sometimes, when her real name was used only when filing reports to the brass. This woman felt more real to her than she did, and she took a second to remove the eye makeup from her other eye to continue the transformation back to herself
Tossing the washrag onto the chrome shelf behind her, she moved towards the shower stall, debating whether or not to take the time now. She could get the Falcon prepped, start the op report, clean up the clutter strewn around their cabin. She decided that, in truth, she had no desire to do any of that until Han was back, and that there was no way she was leaving any trace of her NRI character anywhere on her. She undressed quickly, hissing when the fabric caught the open sores on her thigh, then stepped underneath the water and propped herself up with a hand to the wall next to her.
She began searching around for her hair products, unsure if she'd moved them or if Han had, and reaching her hand to swipe at the alcove to her left when she felt the ring. Her eyes snapped towards her outstretched hand, grabbing the band and bringing it up to her face. The ring itself was unremarkable; she hadn't wanted an outrageous ring and the idea of such an elaborate grotesque symbolizing her commitment to Han just hadn't seemed appropriate.
Her hand completely consumed the ring and it seemed cheap, so she quickly pushed it onto her finger and closed her eyes. It was a different kind of caress, a different kind of affection, and one that took her totally away from the mask she was trying to wipe away. The woman who looked out from the mirror wouldn't find much intimacy with such a small thing. She would have had a few rings of equal beauty, of equal price, and wouldn't bat an eye at finding one hidden in the recess of a fresher.
The woman in the mirror wouldn't understand what it stood for.
She leaned her hand against the fresher wall, then her forehead against that and pushed the darkness out of her skin, away from her and her marriage and her life, and breathed in the heavy air, feeling herself becoming the woman she actually was. The dirt, the blood and sweat and filth, slipped from her body, fell to the ground, swirled away and she felt new and whole again. Then she quickly shut off the water and left the fresher and the humidity, wrapping herself in her robe as she went.
She heard him as he lowered the ramp, footsteps clanging, slow and with leisure, and she guessed that the pickup had been supremely easy. Interesting, she thought, that he'd gotten done early as well. She tightened her robe, and went to meet him.
When she stepped into the lounge, he turned his head toward her and fingered the dejarik board, skimming the length of her robe with his eyes. He had a small pack thrown over one shoulder and a curious tuft of hair sticking out near his temple.
She crossed her arms in front. "I got done early."
"Me, too." He went to the caf maker, flipped the switch in front. "Started the report yet?"
"No, not yet." She came up behind him, took the small pack. "I thought I'd hear your side of the story this time."
He looked at her. "For the sake of accuracy?"
"Of course." She stashed the pack away, then leaned on the counter next to him. "And because our contradictions are costing us credibility."
"You're too honest on them." He rubbed at his eyes with his right hand and half-turned to face her.
She glanced at his jacket pocket, then back at him, wondering what was 'too honest' about not outright lying.
He answered her look. "They don't really care how it gets done."
"Regardless, Drayson just about had a fit when our separate reports were filed last time." He gave her a look, and she rolled her eyes. "I didn't tell you. Officially, the target was lured outside by both of us alone."
His grin was slow in coming, but she was relieved that it came at all. "Was he, now?"
She mimicked the debrief droid. "Please remind me. Did you kiss him to get him outside, or did he come to lose money on a sabacc game?"
"I'll do anything for slaver ass. You know that." He laughed as he said it, and Leia felt like the last of the grime was being swept from her skin. She smiled at him as he scooted closer to her, tilted her chin up so she could see his face. "We're going to be okay, you know."
She searched his eyes to find the lie she was sure would be there. She was shocked when they only showed honesty. "You really think that, don't you?"
He nodded, raised a hand to her cheek. "Commissions are up in a year. Then we leave." He reached down and grabbed her hand, kissed her wedding ring and her knuckle. "Then you and I start talking seriously about the kind of things married people should talk about."
She smiled, excited by the possibility of a family and the renewal that was inherent in its production. She leaned in, kissed his top lip, and moved away before he dove for her. "I can't wait."
He grinned at her, stepped through the hatch toward the fresher. She couldn't wait, really. She hadn't lied. She glanced down at her ring, opened and closed her fist, seeing the stone twinkle in the light, and figured that she better start working on her survival mentality, then.