OOC: Commentary!
LJ Entry: http://xmm-natalie.livejournal.com/166913.html?nc=1
Originally Posted: 09/29/09
Commentary Written: 08/25/09
Requested by: xmm_natalie
Notes: Bahir and Natalie: GOODBYE.
The great romance that never was.
Once upon a time, Adel and Bahir lived in an apartment in New York City. It was a nice apartment. It had nice neighbors.
Bahir and Natalie had interacted a few times before they realized (we decided) that they were neighbors. Their friendship really progressed only after that point; it made it a lot easier to interact, and they just clicked in a way that they hadn't before. The first time they met, Bahir stomped on her foot. Accidentally-on-purpose. Really! What an ass. They were united in their shared crawl toward a PhD, and the associated academic snobbery. Bahir made great coffee. Natalie made killer popcorn.
They have had their bumps and bruises along the road, some larger than others. Natalie is the first real friend that Bahir has had, and he has kept a lot of secrets from her -- he still keeps secrets from her, in fact, which might possibly ruin their relationship if they ever got it. (You know that one time that your boyfriend went into the AU and came back different, Natalie? Yeah. That is because he was different. A different person. And I knew. And I encouraged him to keep dating you to cover the fact that he was someone else. But hey, that's all in the past. Who cares, right?)
So. First real friend. Learning curve.
Natalie also has some issues with abandonment which Bahir has managed to hit, uhm, a few times.
Bahir has been around as a character for roughly four years. That isn't the longest that I've ever played a character -- I am pretty sure that my first RP character ever holds that record -- but I have probably played Bahir more and more thoughtfully than I had played characters before. Toward the end, I had a couple of problems continuing to play him: A) He was professionally unhappy where he was; he wanted to be doing research. B) His personal storyline had lagged: he had largely dealt with his brother's death, he was in a committed relationship, he had solid friendships. The one big issue he has that has not been resolved is the Shadow King -- but that is an issue unlikely TO be resolved, and also an issue very hard to hit in play. C) The weight of his history was starting to feel more a burden to deal with than it provided a richness and depth to interactions. The history behind some of the relationships was more hindrance than help. His history on-game has been full of a lot of highs and lows, as happens when characters are actually played.
As a result, I decided that I wanted to retire Bahir -- to let him go back to New York, where he and Percy had found a place to live together, where his work waited. (Where Emma waited, and they could get back to the business of being bad people.) Percy agreed to retire them together. And so we come to this: Bahir and Natalie's last scene in XF. He told her a few days (a week?) ago that he will be leaving, and there was a period where she was hurt (see: abandonment issues) but for this, last chance, last time in a long time they will spend time together -- that is set aside. PRETENDING.
Tonight's dinner was no easy feat - the remnants of various Thai dishes that are scattered around Natalie's living room, balanced on the coffee table and tucked onto the floor, smell delicious. They /were/ delicious. A round-trip to San Fran away for perfect Thai takeout, reheated for consumption. It's like old times, if you ignore the part where they're in California, and all of Bahir's earthly belongings are packed away. Natalie's been doing a great deal of that. Ignoring. Conversation is light, filled with denial and focusing on things academic and personal and not at all job related. As she leans forward to steal another rice noodle, she notes, "I still want to see that zombie movie. The one with Woody Harrelson. It looks killer." Deep.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Bahir admits, leaning back with his hands folded loosely over his abdomen. He is full. He is so full that he keeps whining intermittently about it and then leaning forward to steal another bite. You know, that kind of full. "If you want to see zombies, you should've asked to get assigned to the mission." Oh, wait. Are we avoiding job discussion?
Although Bahir is by no means a terrible cook, he and Natalie lived on a very great deal of takeout in the last year or so that they were both working on their PhDs. For some reason or another, they gravitated markedly toward Thai -- and following Adel's death, Natalie crammed Bahir's freezer full of Thai takeout, so that he didn't have to deal with food. Thai food has become very tied to Bahir and Natalie. They've also bitched (a lot) about missing the food in New York. So the set -- there is history there, just in the food, old and recent and everything.
That's the kind of thing that is really awesome about characters like these, for me. All that material to draw on in RP. RPing about lemons with Percy will NEVER not be funny.
Bahir is not really a movie-watcher, mostly because I have no idea what kind of movies he'd like. This is partially because I am not much of a movie watcher. I am sure that I could give him some real passion for some genre, but I am, at heart, a lazy RPer. I prefer to stick to things about which I have at least some idea. Most of the time when he and Natalie watch something, it is what Natalie wants to watch -- and as a result, Bahir has seen a lot of horror movies. (Rose Red was their first.) Also sci-fi, thanks to Percy. Not a very well-rounded movie education.
Natalie looks horrified, turning wide eyes to Bahir behind the frames of her glasses. "Seriously? Zombieland? You haven't... Bahir. It looks /amazing/. They drop a /piano/..." Her lecture is abruptly curtailed by the suggestion, and she breaks off, nose wrinkling as she slumps back into the couch. "I don't do that shit," she answers.
"They drop a piano...?" Bahir looks over at Natalie, and kicks weakly at her ankle to prompt her to continue. "Do they do something awesome with it, or does it just fall?"
"On a zombie!"
Bahir looks seriously unconvinced by the amazingness. "Oh."
Natalie grumbles and adjusts so that Bahir can't reach her ankle. Not without effort, anyway.
Bahir puts the effort into kicking her. He is determined. "What else do they do?"
Natalie's ankle is on the couch! Does he stand? Is he /that determined/? "Stuff," she grumps, enthusiasm clearly dimmed.
He is not that determined. Bahir gives up with a disgruntled mutter. "Sorry. I am sure the movie will be completely amazing and awesome and other good adjectives beginning with a."
"Yeah," says Natalie, disgruntled.
"Woman makes ghosts yet still has an inexplicable affection for horror movies," Bahir tells his interwoven fingers. "Kind of weird!"
"They aren't ghosts," Natalie answers grumpily. After a moment's pause, she adds, "And I can't always make them, anyway." Clearly she has at some point told him about the kidlets and their missing time.
Obviously. Bahir shrugs. "Well," he says. "Close enough."
"Real ghosts would be way creepier," Natalie disagrees instantly.
"More moaning and chains," Bahir agrees.
"I hate you," Natalie announces. She leans forward to punch at his shoulder.
Bahir takes the opportunity to kick her. "Filthy liar."
Natalie IS STILL ON THE COUCH. "Truth!"
IF SHE CAN PUNCH HIM, HE CAN KICK HER. "Not even close. You just wish your mutation involved moaning and chains."
FEET ARE WAY AWAY FROM HANDS. "You just wish your mutation were as cool as mine," Natalie retorts.
LOOK IT IS SIMPLE GEOMETRY. "My mutation is pretty fucking cool," Bahir says immediately.
"Filthy liar." NO KIDDING WHAT IS BAHIR FLEXY BENDY BOY?
WELL YES, ACTUALLY. HOT, RIGHT? "Your jealousy is transparent."
PRETEND PRETEND, ET CETERA, ET CETERA. Don't hate me for chopping this big block of text at once, Tat.
Once upon a time, there was this strange belief that the only pose worth posing had to be ten lines long. Preferably it should avoid articles, and the prose should be as violently (violetly!) florid as possible. Thank GOD we have advanced beyond that. We moved from the baroque to the -- uh, I dunno. Neoclassical? Romantic? I think I'll just drop this metaphor right now and move on.
A lot of people bitch about one-liners, but the thing is -- there's nothing wrong with a good one-liner. Especially if you've established a conversational flow, and it can banter and bounce and there's all kind of fun. Jean-Paul and Kelsey get close to this, occasionally.
Uhm. That said, that isn't necessarily what is happening here. There's an element of it, but there's also a pretty heavy degree of Not Talking about other things that stilts and limits the conversation that they can have. It isn't snappy; it's dodge-y. There are so many things that they are focused on not saying that it is hard for them to find anything at all to say.
AND I THINK THAT IF SHE COULD PUNCH HIM HE COULD KICK HER STILL.
Abruptly, Natalie falls silent for a moment, her frowning gaze directed toward the floor.
Bahir glances over at Natalie, and shifts slightly, leaning toward her. "Hey," he says after a moment.
And HELLO, a sharp left turn.
Their previous tone had been -- if not one of banter, one of pretending to banter. All of a sudden, Natalie abandons the pretense. It isn't as though Bahir doesn't have some idea why: he's LEAVING, duh. But he doesn't know exactly why. So he draws in, a subtle reassurance, an 'I'm here, what's up?'
Natalie stirs slightly, unfolding her legs to lean toward Bahir in return. Just as abruptly, she requests, "Dance with me?"
Bahir blinks once, and then grins. He rises and holds his hand out to Natalie, solemn.
And she leans toward him as well. I love body language. I'm not always great with it, but I love when someone takes what I have posed and responds to it. It is one of the best things about RP for me, the most exciting things: when you look at a pose and read and respond to the subtler things, the implicit things. Because you know that not only are they really reading your poses, and thinking about them, but you guys are on the same wavelength. There is MORE going ON in your SCENE than a quick skim would reveal. I love me some subtext, and Natalie and Bahir have had a lot of subtext.
Whatever Bahir had been expecting, this isn't it. It is not a request that he is unamenable to, however, and he is more than willing to do as she asks of him. Natalie talks a bit about this -- about how the scene is fairly Natalie-centric. It is true. And here is why: guilt.
Bahir feels guilty. He is leaving. He is leaving her. He KNOWS she won't be happy. While she didn't exactly come just because of him, he is also aware that she probably wouldn't be here if not for him. He is aware that she would be doing research. The kind of research he is choosing to leave her, to leave all of this to go back to. His choice in in some ways a selfish one -- in a lot of ways, really. And he knows that. But it is still the choice he is making.
Natalie stands, stepping toward Bahir to take his hand and then tug him a few steps to a clear space, just in front of the tall windows that show off the rising Chemeketa moon.
Rerouted without complaint, Bahir teases, "Tango?" as he places his other hand at her hip.
Natalie slides into Bahir, hands falling into place with easy familiarity. Her ponytail shivers as she shakes her head. "Still don't know how," she reminds, her smile slight. "Waltz."
Bahir heaves a put-upon sigh, but does not further the joke. It takes him a moment to shift from stiff memorization into smoother muscle memory, but it is a short moment. He grins at her, squeezing her hand, and then draws them both across the floor in a smooth glide. They lack music, but it is not terribly hard to find a compromised timing. "I wonder if anyone else here knows how to do this."
I am ashamed to say that I had to go back and dig through logs to find when they first danced. I remembered it vaguely, but I had a stronger memory of Bahir and Natalie dancing before the HFC thing -- which didn't happen that year, as Bahir and Percy broke up. (It did happen the next year, and Natalie and Bahir actually went as superspies, FUNNILY ENOUGH. This was way, way before XF was even anything like in the picture. Not even a gleam of an idea.)
Anyway. Natalie made the connection for me, and I went to dig it up. And you know? There is something powerful about Natalie calling to that -- which she goes into better than I can.
There is also a clear intimacy in dancing. Even if isn't romantic, or sexually charged, dancing with someone involves a certain amount of closeness, of touch, of working together, of MOVING together--. I could be hallucinating this (because like hell am I digging around 150+ logs) but I IMAGINE that -- before that first waltz of theirs, used to help tame Natalie's ghosts, to help her to assert control over her mutation -- they had not touched a lot. They weren't really that close of friends yet. They were more than acquaintances, but certainly far less than the BFF that they grew to be. And I'm not going to say that after that they couldn't keep their hands off of each other, but after that, they DID grow closer.
It wasn't really the act of dancing; it was the side effect, the way she brought her mutation under control that drew them together. They had something shared, a secret; there was an emotional and mental closeness that previously had not been present, which would later pave the way for more physical closeness. They could be very touchy at times!
Natalie's muscle memory is not nearly as good, her movements not half so practiced, but her trust of Bahir is deep and well-practiced, and she moves effortlessly with his lead. "Probably some," she murmurs, tilting her head just enough to look up at him with quiet eyes. Her smile is sad. "Do you remember the first time we did this?"
"Long time ago," Bahir says. His voice is soft, matched to hers, and his expression is vaguely wistful, gaze distant. "Long, long time." His eyes sharpen on her again, focused, and his smile shifts a little wry.
Natalie is all blahblah about how I hit mood in so few words, but just read these words: 'tilting her head just enough to look up at him with quiet eyes. Her smile is sad.' COME ON. She gives me such good stuff to work off, to play back to. The trust. Moving with his lead. This is that subtext thing again that I was talking about earlier. I really love it. Big armfulls of love.
She has reason to trust Bahir, and she has reason not to trust Bahir. She and Bahir had worked together extensively on her mutation, with Bahir using his telepathy to help her find the holds on her control. And Bahir has also revealed to her that he is not who she thought he was. That he has a ~PAST~. She could so easily distrust him. They could so easily no longer even talk. But she made the choice to trust him, and she does so now with so little thought.
"Not that long," Natalie answers, shaking her head softly again. With a flicker, they are joined on their dance floor - Natalie and Bahir, far more awkward, far more unsure. Her smile widens a touch, and she stretches to speak loudly, /this/ form of communication still uncommon between them, if not uncomfortable. The words draw into sharp focus at the front of her mind as she looks up at him. << It was the beginning, I think. >>
"Well. They were very busy years, then," Bahir says, grinning down at Natalie, and glancing over at their illusionary counterparts. He does look a little older now -- no gray hairs, he's not Percy, but there are faint lines of tension and strain that had not been there. He is not listening, telepathy courteously shielded. HA HA.
HA HA. (I am so obnoxious. Why do people RP with me? I thought it was totally hilarious to skunk that pose of hers.)
Once upon a time, our last Xavier player, dear Rin, looked at the telepaths on the game. He decided that Bahir and Adel more or less bracketed the ethical range: Bahir the goodie-two-shoes, Adel the evil-baddy-pants. This was ironic, of course, because for all his goodie-two-shoes-ness, Bahir was (and is) still a bit of a bad guy. Inner Circle 4 lief. But it is true that he otherwise has a fairly strong set of telepathic ethics. The Xavier and Jean in his life seems to have balanced the Emma and Adel, at least where that is concerned. I KNOW SOME OF YOU KNOW THIS, BUT SOME OF YOU ARE NEW.
In a tangent, Nadia, he would be APPALLED by your behavior. SHAPE UP.
Bahir is very good about not listening to people. Natalie talks about the whole telepathy thing, and how they avoid it, and et cetera, and I really hate her for hitting it first and then me for going and reading it, because now what do I have to say on it? Nothing! I will just have to reply to it in a comment.
But Natalie seeking out Bahir's attention like that? Or like what follows? It's extraordinarily remarkable for her. So is her touch with the ghosts.
Natalie tiptoes up and taps a finger against his forehead, silent request to open up in there. Her fingers brush against his cheek briefly before they find his shoulder again, and she frowns faintly. << Listen to me! >>
The gesture is helped by the touch of skin, telepathic reception intensified. "Wh--?" << What? >> he says after a quick telepathic glance to confirm that, yes, she was trying to get his attention. Humor hues his thoughts.
Natalie's smile returns, quiet and fleeting. << I said, >> she repeats, feet moving in time to an unheard beat as she curls her fingers at his shoulder. << It was the beginning, I think. >> Behind them, a smiling Natalie calls Bahir an overconfident prat.
<< Well, at least you already had a good idea of the kind of person I was, >> Bahir teases, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles in counter-caress.
Bahir /is/ an overconfident prat.
Natalie already did such a good job of picking up on the slowly-shifting tone of continued contact, but I just want to highlight it: the brush of her fingers to his cheek, the rub of his thumb as caress. SUBTEXT SUBTEXT SUBTEXT.
<< From the start, >> Natalie agrees, the tones of her mind sadder than the expressions she lets creep onto her face. Her fingers twist in his, encouraging the touch. Affection and wistfulness twines through her mind, coloring every syllable. << You have always been good to me. For me. Look at the difference. >> Telepathic touch can feel the complete ease with which ghosts disappear, blinking out of existence with no effort at all.
Bahir pauses the whirling slide of their steps, drawing Natalie into him rather than leading her across the floor. He tips his head, brushing a kiss on her brow as he lowers their joined hands. << Your friendship is an unlooked for gift, Natalie, >> he says, allowing the usual strict sterility of his thoughts to fall away, emotion seeping through to hue his words with something more than affection. << I can't imagine how I would've gotten through the past few years without you -- and I can't imagine what it will be like to not have you nearby. >>
Oh. Dear. And here is where the scene takes another sharp swing, moving very quickly into some very deep emotional waters.
I don't know that this is a conversation that Bahir would have been brave enough to have if it weren't so obviously the end of everything. (For a few weeks. SHHHH.) There is a lot of real nakedness in, a lot of vulnerability, of emotions plainly stated without prevarication or playfulness. It is raw. But when else will these things be said? These things, which have been there for so long beneath all their encounters?
NEVER. So they get said.
Natalie has been there for Bahir in a pretty incredible way through his research, through the losses in his life. He really means it when he says he has no idea how he would've gotten through without her. And he feels at a loss imagining what it will be like without her. (Luckily, that won't last long!) He's never had a friend like Natalie before, and he has lost a lot in the past year. Losing her because of the move is a pretty rough thing.
When Bahir communicates telepathically, he works hard to keep it a fairly narrow band of communication, limited to the words, without bleed of emotion. Thus the sterility. What is most natural to him, however, is a full-bandwidth exchange of thought, emotion, sensation, et cetera from all his many years with Adel. It can be disorienting and overwhelming without the specifics of the link that they shared, and even his telepathic communication with Percy is not quite so all-encompassing. But here, he widens it: the difference between an email and a phone call, or a phone call and talking in person. As intimate as telepathy is, Bahir is still used to imposing some restrictions to give a measure of privacy to the other person -- and to protect his own. He makes a conscious decision to make their conversation more intimate.
And yeah. Something more than affection. I WENT THERE.
Natalie blinks rapidly for a moment, squeezing his hand as telepathy speaks things words never quite have. Emotion is thick in her throat and in her mind, echoing and amplifying Bahir's. << Me either, >> she says simply. She lifts her eyes to fix them on his, dark and serious. << You have changed so much about my life. You are so much the reason I am me. >> Memories swirl, fleeting and fast, touching on mutation and research and heartache and pain and worry and fear and change. << It's silly, >> she adds after a moment, her mental voice tentative. << But I can't even imagine who I'd (I'll) be, without you. >>
Bahir squeezes Natalie's hand and then lifts it, kissing her knuckles. He holds it there, between them, and regards her with a steady fondness. "Yeah," he breathes, words spoken but intimacy scarcely lessened by the softness of his words. << For all there is in New York for me-- >> His thoughts touch on research, on home, on family, on friends, on /hot, fresh takeout/. << --there will always be something missing. Your friendship -- You mean.... >> Even telepathically, he does not have the words, and has to rely on something more primitive: an empathic surge reflects shared affection, colored by closeness, ease, and trust, but heavily foreshadowed by looming loss.
Emotion porn.
It kind of is.
Natalie shakes her head, fast and hard as tears spring to her eyes. << Don't, >> she says instantly, breathing the word aloud on a whisper to match the firmer mental command. "Don't." Her hand tightens in his. << I know you have to go. I hate it, but I know... >> Emotion sweeps by, sharing the recognized sense of loss, of purposelessness, of /yearning/ that being trapped away from his life's passion brings. It's tinged with no small share of her own. << Don't make it harder than it already is. >>
"You started it," Bahir says, trying to tease and failing a little, voice rough. He releases her hand only to wrap both his arms around her and pull her in. It is inevitable that a hand will lift, two fingers curling through her ponytail. The shields over his telepathy remain thinned, but he holds back the touch of his mind.
Like Natalie, I am possessed of characters who are not necessarily emotive in a way where tears are thumbs-up. This is often because I tend to play boys, and there is that whole ... gender thing ... about boys and crying. But Bahir's voice here -- it is rough. The emotions here are pretty powerful, and the awareness that colored his previous pose, the looming future loss -- that shadow falls over everything.
THE PONYTAIL.
I really don't know when it is that Bahir started playing more with Natalie's hair, but I think that his fascination with her hair is pretty tightly tied to his attraction to her. I bet if you went back through the logs and checked, you could read between the lines to find an acknowledgement of his attraction to her in that.
He loves her hair. He really does. There something innately sensual about it: heavy, thick, dark, silky, straight and looong. It is the length of it that he loves, really. Percy's hair? Kind of short. He plays with Percy's hair a lot, too, carding through it in search of all those gray hairs he has caused. But even his own hair is not so long as Natalie's. This is the kind of hair that I wanted when I was a little kid, so perhaps my fascination with it plays into Bahir's fascination with it.
Man, my commentary is so much less MEANINGFUL than Tat's. HAIR IS FUN TO PLAY WITH. BAHIR LIKES PLAYING WITH HER HAIR.
Natalie falls into him, her own arms wrapping tight around his middle and squeezing almost to the point of pain. She buries her face against his shoulder, letting tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. There's silence for a moment, and then she says, << I lied. Come back. >>
<< You're so fickle, >> Bahir whispers, words overlain with a teasingly misogynistic cast. She is fickle because WOMEN are fickle. He holds her close, solid and steady and warm, and releases her ponytail only for his hand to fall against the nape of her neck, thumb sliding over skin. He rests his cheek against the top of her head, the continuing touch of his thoughts a steady flow of bittersweet affection.
I LOVED this. I really, REALLY -- I just. I don't know. Natalie's response. It's amazing. That pose. The words.
I really don't know what it is about her pose that kills me. I think it is wonderful. IT IS CINEMATIC. (Dramatic.)
Natalie's mind returns the touch, floating between sadness and warmth. She stays like that for some time, her cheek turned against the solidity of his shoulder, her fingers laced against his back, eyes closed against the touch of his hand against her skin. Eventually she speaks again, although she does not stir. << I'm not coming to see you off tomorrow. >>
<< Well, that will keep me from being tempted to change my mind at the last minute. >> The words are teasing, but there is truth beneath them, an acknowledgement of the pain of separation.
<< You've had plenty of time to change your mind, >> Natalie says, sad acceptance twisting around her words. << I know you're going. I just don't think I can watch it. >> Somewhere, a drifting thought gives wry acknowledgement to the melodrama of the statement, but it doesn't undercut the truth behind it.
Bahir squeezes the back of Natalie's neck, acknowledgement and acceptance conveyed wordlessly, and his arms tightening just slightly.
Natalie's right. It wouldn't change Bahir's mind -- but it would be hard for him, and he understands how it would be even harder for her. Abandonment issues. No Percy at her side. He sure as hell doesn't begrudge her that. He would rather have had this parting, a hundred times over, than any awkward handshake at the airport (or whatever).
Eventually, Natalie pulls back. She takes a single deep breath, steadying herself as her hands find Bahir's shoulders again and she tips her head to look up at him. For a moment, she stands in silence.
With slight reluctance, Bahir allows Natalie to ease back, but his arms remain looped around her. As she looks up at him, he lifts his hand to take her ponytail between his fingers and give it a light, affectionate tug.
A shout-out to Bahir's inner twelve-year old boy, unable to say just how much Natalie means to him, and forced to resort to pulling on her pigtails and dipping them in inkwells.
SILENCES CAN SAY AS MUCH AS CONVERSATION. SUBTEXT.
Natalie wrinkles her nose at him in instant annoyance, half-hearted and reflexive. Exhaling, she slides a hand from his shoulder to his cheek, tapping her thumb lightly there. After a drawn out pause, she says quietly, "You know I love you, right? You are the best friend I've ever had."
Bahir gives her just a slight smile: slight, but warm. "I love you too, Dr. Natalie Jo Simon." He starts to say more, then stops, and shrugs. What is there TO say? They said it all telepathically. His lips quirk.
I don't even remember now what else Bahir might have said here. I do know that his calling her 'Dr. Natalie Jo Simon' was a minor sort of deflection: it is implies a playfulness, a lightness, something to balance the depth of the words. Does he love her? Of course he does.
Natalie gives Bahir a grin in response to that, warmth flashing in her eyes as she lifts on her toes to brush her lips against Bahir's cheek in a feather-soft whisper of a kiss. Rocking back, and then drawing back, she says, "I'll see you later."
Bahir's tone is teasing as he smiles back at her and says, "I look forward to it." He hesitates a moment, standing still as she withdraws, and then swoops in to press the lightest of chaste kisses to her lips, pulling her in again. /Then/ he lets her go, stepping back.
Natalie stills at that touch, standing exquisitely motionless in Bahir's arms for a long moment, her eyes closed. She opens them again when he steps back, and there is something naked and yearning in her eyes as she looks at him. The moment stretches out, thick with hesitation that draws taut until it seems that something between them must snap. At the end of it, Natalie steps back as well, and does not say any words of farewell.
Eyes moving over her features, Bahir watches her, studies her: he all but memorizes her expression, his own eyes a little wide, his posture a little too tense. When she steps back, he draws a breath. It never quite makes it to words. He dips his head, eyes closing in a silent goodbye, and then he crosses to the door.
Natalie folds in on herself when he goes, listening to the door close before she abandons the makeshift dining room, dance floor of her living space for the small comfort of her bed. She doesn't need mutation for the ghosts tonight. They are thick enough behind her own eyeballs, a bittersweet ache as she curls up and gives into tears. The next morning, she still does not say goodbye.
Natalie's last two poses are woooonderful. Back to what I said before: emo porn. IT iS EMO PORN.
There has been a lot of touching in this log: dancing, the brush of their hands, the brush of quick kisses, at temple, cheek, et cetera. None of that is really new to them. The frequency is perhaps unusual, but then again, emotions are clearly running high for both of them. What Bahir does, however -- which indeed was @coinflipped -- has not happened before.
He can't not. The kiss is chaste. It is an acknowledgement. In Natalie's silence, in her motionlessness and in her expression, there is a returned acknowledgement. Bahir is poised, waiting for her response, waiting to see what she does, and then accepts her step. Nothing that happens here is big in the sense of grand gestures or wild proclamations. It happens quickly, quietly. It is silent, slight, and subtle, but there is a great deal of weight in each second outlined.
What Bahir acknowledges is that, in another world, they would have been amazing together. It never quite worked out here: she had Ben, he had Percy, she had Ryan, he had Percy again. But he (being technically bisexual, and let me tell you about this weird AU where he hooked up with Sabby--!) has long had a fairly low-level attraction to her. When you add that to the friendship between them, there's a potential relationship powderkeg that could go off at any second!!!
...except not. Because Bahir has been defused. He is irrevocably committed to Percy. Old married couple. And among Natalie's abandonment issues are some issues about /cheating/ that Bahir is well aware of. So while Bahir might kiss Natalie to say, 'Yes, we could have,' he would not want to put her in a position where those issues come out -- and neither would he want to threaten what he has: his relationship with Percy OR his relationship with Natalie.
It is a very bittersweet end for them. An acknowledgement of all that they mean to each other with the acknowledgement of what they will never be. But what they have is pretty powerful stuff. And I love Bahir and Natalie for being that relationship, and I love Tat for playing it with me. <3<3<3
Originally Posted: 09/29/09
Commentary Written: 08/25/09
Requested by: xmm_natalie
Notes: Bahir and Natalie: GOODBYE.
The great romance that never was.
Once upon a time, Adel and Bahir lived in an apartment in New York City. It was a nice apartment. It had nice neighbors.
Bahir and Natalie had interacted a few times before they realized (we decided) that they were neighbors. Their friendship really progressed only after that point; it made it a lot easier to interact, and they just clicked in a way that they hadn't before. The first time they met, Bahir stomped on her foot. Accidentally-on-purpose. Really! What an ass. They were united in their shared crawl toward a PhD, and the associated academic snobbery. Bahir made great coffee. Natalie made killer popcorn.
They have had their bumps and bruises along the road, some larger than others. Natalie is the first real friend that Bahir has had, and he has kept a lot of secrets from her -- he still keeps secrets from her, in fact, which might possibly ruin their relationship if they ever got it. (You know that one time that your boyfriend went into the AU and came back different, Natalie? Yeah. That is because he was different. A different person. And I knew. And I encouraged him to keep dating you to cover the fact that he was someone else. But hey, that's all in the past. Who cares, right?)
So. First real friend. Learning curve.
Natalie also has some issues with abandonment which Bahir has managed to hit, uhm, a few times.
Bahir has been around as a character for roughly four years. That isn't the longest that I've ever played a character -- I am pretty sure that my first RP character ever holds that record -- but I have probably played Bahir more and more thoughtfully than I had played characters before. Toward the end, I had a couple of problems continuing to play him: A) He was professionally unhappy where he was; he wanted to be doing research. B) His personal storyline had lagged: he had largely dealt with his brother's death, he was in a committed relationship, he had solid friendships. The one big issue he has that has not been resolved is the Shadow King -- but that is an issue unlikely TO be resolved, and also an issue very hard to hit in play. C) The weight of his history was starting to feel more a burden to deal with than it provided a richness and depth to interactions. The history behind some of the relationships was more hindrance than help. His history on-game has been full of a lot of highs and lows, as happens when characters are actually played.
As a result, I decided that I wanted to retire Bahir -- to let him go back to New York, where he and Percy had found a place to live together, where his work waited. (Where Emma waited, and they could get back to the business of being bad people.) Percy agreed to retire them together. And so we come to this: Bahir and Natalie's last scene in XF. He told her a few days (a week?) ago that he will be leaving, and there was a period where she was hurt (see: abandonment issues) but for this, last chance, last time in a long time they will spend time together -- that is set aside. PRETENDING.
Tonight's dinner was no easy feat - the remnants of various Thai dishes that are scattered around Natalie's living room, balanced on the coffee table and tucked onto the floor, smell delicious. They /were/ delicious. A round-trip to San Fran away for perfect Thai takeout, reheated for consumption. It's like old times, if you ignore the part where they're in California, and all of Bahir's earthly belongings are packed away. Natalie's been doing a great deal of that. Ignoring. Conversation is light, filled with denial and focusing on things academic and personal and not at all job related. As she leans forward to steal another rice noodle, she notes, "I still want to see that zombie movie. The one with Woody Harrelson. It looks killer." Deep.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Bahir admits, leaning back with his hands folded loosely over his abdomen. He is full. He is so full that he keeps whining intermittently about it and then leaning forward to steal another bite. You know, that kind of full. "If you want to see zombies, you should've asked to get assigned to the mission." Oh, wait. Are we avoiding job discussion?
Although Bahir is by no means a terrible cook, he and Natalie lived on a very great deal of takeout in the last year or so that they were both working on their PhDs. For some reason or another, they gravitated markedly toward Thai -- and following Adel's death, Natalie crammed Bahir's freezer full of Thai takeout, so that he didn't have to deal with food. Thai food has become very tied to Bahir and Natalie. They've also bitched (a lot) about missing the food in New York. So the set -- there is history there, just in the food, old and recent and everything.
That's the kind of thing that is really awesome about characters like these, for me. All that material to draw on in RP. RPing about lemons with Percy will NEVER not be funny.
Bahir is not really a movie-watcher, mostly because I have no idea what kind of movies he'd like. This is partially because I am not much of a movie watcher. I am sure that I could give him some real passion for some genre, but I am, at heart, a lazy RPer. I prefer to stick to things about which I have at least some idea. Most of the time when he and Natalie watch something, it is what Natalie wants to watch -- and as a result, Bahir has seen a lot of horror movies. (Rose Red was their first.) Also sci-fi, thanks to Percy. Not a very well-rounded movie education.
Natalie looks horrified, turning wide eyes to Bahir behind the frames of her glasses. "Seriously? Zombieland? You haven't... Bahir. It looks /amazing/. They drop a /piano/..." Her lecture is abruptly curtailed by the suggestion, and she breaks off, nose wrinkling as she slumps back into the couch. "I don't do that shit," she answers.
"They drop a piano...?" Bahir looks over at Natalie, and kicks weakly at her ankle to prompt her to continue. "Do they do something awesome with it, or does it just fall?"
"On a zombie!"
Bahir looks seriously unconvinced by the amazingness. "Oh."
Natalie grumbles and adjusts so that Bahir can't reach her ankle. Not without effort, anyway.
Bahir puts the effort into kicking her. He is determined. "What else do they do?"
Natalie's ankle is on the couch! Does he stand? Is he /that determined/? "Stuff," she grumps, enthusiasm clearly dimmed.
He is not that determined. Bahir gives up with a disgruntled mutter. "Sorry. I am sure the movie will be completely amazing and awesome and other good adjectives beginning with a."
"Yeah," says Natalie, disgruntled.
"Woman makes ghosts yet still has an inexplicable affection for horror movies," Bahir tells his interwoven fingers. "Kind of weird!"
"They aren't ghosts," Natalie answers grumpily. After a moment's pause, she adds, "And I can't always make them, anyway." Clearly she has at some point told him about the kidlets and their missing time.
Obviously. Bahir shrugs. "Well," he says. "Close enough."
"Real ghosts would be way creepier," Natalie disagrees instantly.
"More moaning and chains," Bahir agrees.
"I hate you," Natalie announces. She leans forward to punch at his shoulder.
Bahir takes the opportunity to kick her. "Filthy liar."
Natalie IS STILL ON THE COUCH. "Truth!"
IF SHE CAN PUNCH HIM, HE CAN KICK HER. "Not even close. You just wish your mutation involved moaning and chains."
FEET ARE WAY AWAY FROM HANDS. "You just wish your mutation were as cool as mine," Natalie retorts.
LOOK IT IS SIMPLE GEOMETRY. "My mutation is pretty fucking cool," Bahir says immediately.
"Filthy liar." NO KIDDING WHAT IS BAHIR FLEXY BENDY BOY?
WELL YES, ACTUALLY. HOT, RIGHT? "Your jealousy is transparent."
PRETEND PRETEND, ET CETERA, ET CETERA. Don't hate me for chopping this big block of text at once, Tat.
Once upon a time, there was this strange belief that the only pose worth posing had to be ten lines long. Preferably it should avoid articles, and the prose should be as violently (violetly!) florid as possible. Thank GOD we have advanced beyond that. We moved from the baroque to the -- uh, I dunno. Neoclassical? Romantic? I think I'll just drop this metaphor right now and move on.
A lot of people bitch about one-liners, but the thing is -- there's nothing wrong with a good one-liner. Especially if you've established a conversational flow, and it can banter and bounce and there's all kind of fun. Jean-Paul and Kelsey get close to this, occasionally.
Uhm. That said, that isn't necessarily what is happening here. There's an element of it, but there's also a pretty heavy degree of Not Talking about other things that stilts and limits the conversation that they can have. It isn't snappy; it's dodge-y. There are so many things that they are focused on not saying that it is hard for them to find anything at all to say.
AND I THINK THAT IF SHE COULD PUNCH HIM HE COULD KICK HER STILL.
Abruptly, Natalie falls silent for a moment, her frowning gaze directed toward the floor.
Bahir glances over at Natalie, and shifts slightly, leaning toward her. "Hey," he says after a moment.
And HELLO, a sharp left turn.
Their previous tone had been -- if not one of banter, one of pretending to banter. All of a sudden, Natalie abandons the pretense. It isn't as though Bahir doesn't have some idea why: he's LEAVING, duh. But he doesn't know exactly why. So he draws in, a subtle reassurance, an 'I'm here, what's up?'
Natalie stirs slightly, unfolding her legs to lean toward Bahir in return. Just as abruptly, she requests, "Dance with me?"
Bahir blinks once, and then grins. He rises and holds his hand out to Natalie, solemn.
And she leans toward him as well. I love body language. I'm not always great with it, but I love when someone takes what I have posed and responds to it. It is one of the best things about RP for me, the most exciting things: when you look at a pose and read and respond to the subtler things, the implicit things. Because you know that not only are they really reading your poses, and thinking about them, but you guys are on the same wavelength. There is MORE going ON in your SCENE than a quick skim would reveal. I love me some subtext, and Natalie and Bahir have had a lot of subtext.
Whatever Bahir had been expecting, this isn't it. It is not a request that he is unamenable to, however, and he is more than willing to do as she asks of him. Natalie talks a bit about this -- about how the scene is fairly Natalie-centric. It is true. And here is why: guilt.
Bahir feels guilty. He is leaving. He is leaving her. He KNOWS she won't be happy. While she didn't exactly come just because of him, he is also aware that she probably wouldn't be here if not for him. He is aware that she would be doing research. The kind of research he is choosing to leave her, to leave all of this to go back to. His choice in in some ways a selfish one -- in a lot of ways, really. And he knows that. But it is still the choice he is making.
Natalie stands, stepping toward Bahir to take his hand and then tug him a few steps to a clear space, just in front of the tall windows that show off the rising Chemeketa moon.
Rerouted without complaint, Bahir teases, "Tango?" as he places his other hand at her hip.
Natalie slides into Bahir, hands falling into place with easy familiarity. Her ponytail shivers as she shakes her head. "Still don't know how," she reminds, her smile slight. "Waltz."
Bahir heaves a put-upon sigh, but does not further the joke. It takes him a moment to shift from stiff memorization into smoother muscle memory, but it is a short moment. He grins at her, squeezing her hand, and then draws them both across the floor in a smooth glide. They lack music, but it is not terribly hard to find a compromised timing. "I wonder if anyone else here knows how to do this."
I am ashamed to say that I had to go back and dig through logs to find when they first danced. I remembered it vaguely, but I had a stronger memory of Bahir and Natalie dancing before the HFC thing -- which didn't happen that year, as Bahir and Percy broke up. (It did happen the next year, and Natalie and Bahir actually went as superspies, FUNNILY ENOUGH. This was way, way before XF was even anything like in the picture. Not even a gleam of an idea.)
Anyway. Natalie made the connection for me, and I went to dig it up. And you know? There is something powerful about Natalie calling to that -- which she goes into better than I can.
There is also a clear intimacy in dancing. Even if isn't romantic, or sexually charged, dancing with someone involves a certain amount of closeness, of touch, of working together, of MOVING together--. I could be hallucinating this (because like hell am I digging around 150+ logs) but I IMAGINE that -- before that first waltz of theirs, used to help tame Natalie's ghosts, to help her to assert control over her mutation -- they had not touched a lot. They weren't really that close of friends yet. They were more than acquaintances, but certainly far less than the BFF that they grew to be. And I'm not going to say that after that they couldn't keep their hands off of each other, but after that, they DID grow closer.
It wasn't really the act of dancing; it was the side effect, the way she brought her mutation under control that drew them together. They had something shared, a secret; there was an emotional and mental closeness that previously had not been present, which would later pave the way for more physical closeness. They could be very touchy at times!
Natalie's muscle memory is not nearly as good, her movements not half so practiced, but her trust of Bahir is deep and well-practiced, and she moves effortlessly with his lead. "Probably some," she murmurs, tilting her head just enough to look up at him with quiet eyes. Her smile is sad. "Do you remember the first time we did this?"
"Long time ago," Bahir says. His voice is soft, matched to hers, and his expression is vaguely wistful, gaze distant. "Long, long time." His eyes sharpen on her again, focused, and his smile shifts a little wry.
Natalie is all blahblah about how I hit mood in so few words, but just read these words: 'tilting her head just enough to look up at him with quiet eyes. Her smile is sad.' COME ON. She gives me such good stuff to work off, to play back to. The trust. Moving with his lead. This is that subtext thing again that I was talking about earlier. I really love it. Big armfulls of love.
She has reason to trust Bahir, and she has reason not to trust Bahir. She and Bahir had worked together extensively on her mutation, with Bahir using his telepathy to help her find the holds on her control. And Bahir has also revealed to her that he is not who she thought he was. That he has a ~PAST~. She could so easily distrust him. They could so easily no longer even talk. But she made the choice to trust him, and she does so now with so little thought.
"Not that long," Natalie answers, shaking her head softly again. With a flicker, they are joined on their dance floor - Natalie and Bahir, far more awkward, far more unsure. Her smile widens a touch, and she stretches to speak loudly, /this/ form of communication still uncommon between them, if not uncomfortable. The words draw into sharp focus at the front of her mind as she looks up at him. << It was the beginning, I think. >>
"Well. They were very busy years, then," Bahir says, grinning down at Natalie, and glancing over at their illusionary counterparts. He does look a little older now -- no gray hairs, he's not Percy, but there are faint lines of tension and strain that had not been there. He is not listening, telepathy courteously shielded. HA HA.
HA HA. (I am so obnoxious. Why do people RP with me? I thought it was totally hilarious to skunk that pose of hers.)
Once upon a time, our last Xavier player, dear Rin, looked at the telepaths on the game. He decided that Bahir and Adel more or less bracketed the ethical range: Bahir the goodie-two-shoes, Adel the evil-baddy-pants. This was ironic, of course, because for all his goodie-two-shoes-ness, Bahir was (and is) still a bit of a bad guy. Inner Circle 4 lief. But it is true that he otherwise has a fairly strong set of telepathic ethics. The Xavier and Jean in his life seems to have balanced the Emma and Adel, at least where that is concerned. I KNOW SOME OF YOU KNOW THIS, BUT SOME OF YOU ARE NEW.
In a tangent, Nadia, he would be APPALLED by your behavior. SHAPE UP.
Bahir is very good about not listening to people. Natalie talks about the whole telepathy thing, and how they avoid it, and et cetera, and I really hate her for hitting it first and then me for going and reading it, because now what do I have to say on it? Nothing! I will just have to reply to it in a comment.
But Natalie seeking out Bahir's attention like that? Or like what follows? It's extraordinarily remarkable for her. So is her touch with the ghosts.
Natalie tiptoes up and taps a finger against his forehead, silent request to open up in there. Her fingers brush against his cheek briefly before they find his shoulder again, and she frowns faintly. << Listen to me! >>
The gesture is helped by the touch of skin, telepathic reception intensified. "Wh--?" << What? >> he says after a quick telepathic glance to confirm that, yes, she was trying to get his attention. Humor hues his thoughts.
Natalie's smile returns, quiet and fleeting. << I said, >> she repeats, feet moving in time to an unheard beat as she curls her fingers at his shoulder. << It was the beginning, I think. >> Behind them, a smiling Natalie calls Bahir an overconfident prat.
<< Well, at least you already had a good idea of the kind of person I was, >> Bahir teases, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles in counter-caress.
Bahir /is/ an overconfident prat.
Natalie already did such a good job of picking up on the slowly-shifting tone of continued contact, but I just want to highlight it: the brush of her fingers to his cheek, the rub of his thumb as caress. SUBTEXT SUBTEXT SUBTEXT.
<< From the start, >> Natalie agrees, the tones of her mind sadder than the expressions she lets creep onto her face. Her fingers twist in his, encouraging the touch. Affection and wistfulness twines through her mind, coloring every syllable. << You have always been good to me. For me. Look at the difference. >> Telepathic touch can feel the complete ease with which ghosts disappear, blinking out of existence with no effort at all.
Bahir pauses the whirling slide of their steps, drawing Natalie into him rather than leading her across the floor. He tips his head, brushing a kiss on her brow as he lowers their joined hands. << Your friendship is an unlooked for gift, Natalie, >> he says, allowing the usual strict sterility of his thoughts to fall away, emotion seeping through to hue his words with something more than affection. << I can't imagine how I would've gotten through the past few years without you -- and I can't imagine what it will be like to not have you nearby. >>
Oh. Dear. And here is where the scene takes another sharp swing, moving very quickly into some very deep emotional waters.
I don't know that this is a conversation that Bahir would have been brave enough to have if it weren't so obviously the end of everything. (For a few weeks. SHHHH.) There is a lot of real nakedness in, a lot of vulnerability, of emotions plainly stated without prevarication or playfulness. It is raw. But when else will these things be said? These things, which have been there for so long beneath all their encounters?
NEVER. So they get said.
Natalie has been there for Bahir in a pretty incredible way through his research, through the losses in his life. He really means it when he says he has no idea how he would've gotten through without her. And he feels at a loss imagining what it will be like without her. (Luckily, that won't last long!) He's never had a friend like Natalie before, and he has lost a lot in the past year. Losing her because of the move is a pretty rough thing.
When Bahir communicates telepathically, he works hard to keep it a fairly narrow band of communication, limited to the words, without bleed of emotion. Thus the sterility. What is most natural to him, however, is a full-bandwidth exchange of thought, emotion, sensation, et cetera from all his many years with Adel. It can be disorienting and overwhelming without the specifics of the link that they shared, and even his telepathic communication with Percy is not quite so all-encompassing. But here, he widens it: the difference between an email and a phone call, or a phone call and talking in person. As intimate as telepathy is, Bahir is still used to imposing some restrictions to give a measure of privacy to the other person -- and to protect his own. He makes a conscious decision to make their conversation more intimate.
And yeah. Something more than affection. I WENT THERE.
Natalie blinks rapidly for a moment, squeezing his hand as telepathy speaks things words never quite have. Emotion is thick in her throat and in her mind, echoing and amplifying Bahir's. << Me either, >> she says simply. She lifts her eyes to fix them on his, dark and serious. << You have changed so much about my life. You are so much the reason I am me. >> Memories swirl, fleeting and fast, touching on mutation and research and heartache and pain and worry and fear and change. << It's silly, >> she adds after a moment, her mental voice tentative. << But I can't even imagine who I'd (I'll) be, without you. >>
Bahir squeezes Natalie's hand and then lifts it, kissing her knuckles. He holds it there, between them, and regards her with a steady fondness. "Yeah," he breathes, words spoken but intimacy scarcely lessened by the softness of his words. << For all there is in New York for me-- >> His thoughts touch on research, on home, on family, on friends, on /hot, fresh takeout/. << --there will always be something missing. Your friendship -- You mean.... >> Even telepathically, he does not have the words, and has to rely on something more primitive: an empathic surge reflects shared affection, colored by closeness, ease, and trust, but heavily foreshadowed by looming loss.
Emotion porn.
It kind of is.
Natalie shakes her head, fast and hard as tears spring to her eyes. << Don't, >> she says instantly, breathing the word aloud on a whisper to match the firmer mental command. "Don't." Her hand tightens in his. << I know you have to go. I hate it, but I know... >> Emotion sweeps by, sharing the recognized sense of loss, of purposelessness, of /yearning/ that being trapped away from his life's passion brings. It's tinged with no small share of her own. << Don't make it harder than it already is. >>
"You started it," Bahir says, trying to tease and failing a little, voice rough. He releases her hand only to wrap both his arms around her and pull her in. It is inevitable that a hand will lift, two fingers curling through her ponytail. The shields over his telepathy remain thinned, but he holds back the touch of his mind.
Like Natalie, I am possessed of characters who are not necessarily emotive in a way where tears are thumbs-up. This is often because I tend to play boys, and there is that whole ... gender thing ... about boys and crying. But Bahir's voice here -- it is rough. The emotions here are pretty powerful, and the awareness that colored his previous pose, the looming future loss -- that shadow falls over everything.
THE PONYTAIL.
I really don't know when it is that Bahir started playing more with Natalie's hair, but I think that his fascination with her hair is pretty tightly tied to his attraction to her. I bet if you went back through the logs and checked, you could read between the lines to find an acknowledgement of his attraction to her in that.
He loves her hair. He really does. There something innately sensual about it: heavy, thick, dark, silky, straight and looong. It is the length of it that he loves, really. Percy's hair? Kind of short. He plays with Percy's hair a lot, too, carding through it in search of all those gray hairs he has caused. But even his own hair is not so long as Natalie's. This is the kind of hair that I wanted when I was a little kid, so perhaps my fascination with it plays into Bahir's fascination with it.
Man, my commentary is so much less MEANINGFUL than Tat's. HAIR IS FUN TO PLAY WITH. BAHIR LIKES PLAYING WITH HER HAIR.
Natalie falls into him, her own arms wrapping tight around his middle and squeezing almost to the point of pain. She buries her face against his shoulder, letting tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. There's silence for a moment, and then she says, << I lied. Come back. >>
<< You're so fickle, >> Bahir whispers, words overlain with a teasingly misogynistic cast. She is fickle because WOMEN are fickle. He holds her close, solid and steady and warm, and releases her ponytail only for his hand to fall against the nape of her neck, thumb sliding over skin. He rests his cheek against the top of her head, the continuing touch of his thoughts a steady flow of bittersweet affection.
I LOVED this. I really, REALLY -- I just. I don't know. Natalie's response. It's amazing. That pose. The words.
I really don't know what it is about her pose that kills me. I think it is wonderful. IT IS CINEMATIC. (Dramatic.)
Natalie's mind returns the touch, floating between sadness and warmth. She stays like that for some time, her cheek turned against the solidity of his shoulder, her fingers laced against his back, eyes closed against the touch of his hand against her skin. Eventually she speaks again, although she does not stir. << I'm not coming to see you off tomorrow. >>
<< Well, that will keep me from being tempted to change my mind at the last minute. >> The words are teasing, but there is truth beneath them, an acknowledgement of the pain of separation.
<< You've had plenty of time to change your mind, >> Natalie says, sad acceptance twisting around her words. << I know you're going. I just don't think I can watch it. >> Somewhere, a drifting thought gives wry acknowledgement to the melodrama of the statement, but it doesn't undercut the truth behind it.
Bahir squeezes the back of Natalie's neck, acknowledgement and acceptance conveyed wordlessly, and his arms tightening just slightly.
Natalie's right. It wouldn't change Bahir's mind -- but it would be hard for him, and he understands how it would be even harder for her. Abandonment issues. No Percy at her side. He sure as hell doesn't begrudge her that. He would rather have had this parting, a hundred times over, than any awkward handshake at the airport (or whatever).
Eventually, Natalie pulls back. She takes a single deep breath, steadying herself as her hands find Bahir's shoulders again and she tips her head to look up at him. For a moment, she stands in silence.
With slight reluctance, Bahir allows Natalie to ease back, but his arms remain looped around her. As she looks up at him, he lifts his hand to take her ponytail between his fingers and give it a light, affectionate tug.
A shout-out to Bahir's inner twelve-year old boy, unable to say just how much Natalie means to him, and forced to resort to pulling on her pigtails and dipping them in inkwells.
SILENCES CAN SAY AS MUCH AS CONVERSATION. SUBTEXT.
Natalie wrinkles her nose at him in instant annoyance, half-hearted and reflexive. Exhaling, she slides a hand from his shoulder to his cheek, tapping her thumb lightly there. After a drawn out pause, she says quietly, "You know I love you, right? You are the best friend I've ever had."
Bahir gives her just a slight smile: slight, but warm. "I love you too, Dr. Natalie Jo Simon." He starts to say more, then stops, and shrugs. What is there TO say? They said it all telepathically. His lips quirk.
I don't even remember now what else Bahir might have said here. I do know that his calling her 'Dr. Natalie Jo Simon' was a minor sort of deflection: it is implies a playfulness, a lightness, something to balance the depth of the words. Does he love her? Of course he does.
Natalie gives Bahir a grin in response to that, warmth flashing in her eyes as she lifts on her toes to brush her lips against Bahir's cheek in a feather-soft whisper of a kiss. Rocking back, and then drawing back, she says, "I'll see you later."
Bahir's tone is teasing as he smiles back at her and says, "I look forward to it." He hesitates a moment, standing still as she withdraws, and then swoops in to press the lightest of chaste kisses to her lips, pulling her in again. /Then/ he lets her go, stepping back.
Natalie stills at that touch, standing exquisitely motionless in Bahir's arms for a long moment, her eyes closed. She opens them again when he steps back, and there is something naked and yearning in her eyes as she looks at him. The moment stretches out, thick with hesitation that draws taut until it seems that something between them must snap. At the end of it, Natalie steps back as well, and does not say any words of farewell.
Eyes moving over her features, Bahir watches her, studies her: he all but memorizes her expression, his own eyes a little wide, his posture a little too tense. When she steps back, he draws a breath. It never quite makes it to words. He dips his head, eyes closing in a silent goodbye, and then he crosses to the door.
Natalie folds in on herself when he goes, listening to the door close before she abandons the makeshift dining room, dance floor of her living space for the small comfort of her bed. She doesn't need mutation for the ghosts tonight. They are thick enough behind her own eyeballs, a bittersweet ache as she curls up and gives into tears. The next morning, she still does not say goodbye.
Natalie's last two poses are woooonderful. Back to what I said before: emo porn. IT iS EMO PORN.
There has been a lot of touching in this log: dancing, the brush of their hands, the brush of quick kisses, at temple, cheek, et cetera. None of that is really new to them. The frequency is perhaps unusual, but then again, emotions are clearly running high for both of them. What Bahir does, however -- which indeed was @coinflipped -- has not happened before.
He can't not. The kiss is chaste. It is an acknowledgement. In Natalie's silence, in her motionlessness and in her expression, there is a returned acknowledgement. Bahir is poised, waiting for her response, waiting to see what she does, and then accepts her step. Nothing that happens here is big in the sense of grand gestures or wild proclamations. It happens quickly, quietly. It is silent, slight, and subtle, but there is a great deal of weight in each second outlined.
What Bahir acknowledges is that, in another world, they would have been amazing together. It never quite worked out here: she had Ben, he had Percy, she had Ryan, he had Percy again. But he (being technically bisexual, and let me tell you about this weird AU where he hooked up with Sabby--!) has long had a fairly low-level attraction to her. When you add that to the friendship between them, there's a potential relationship powderkeg that could go off at any second!!!
...except not. Because Bahir has been defused. He is irrevocably committed to Percy. Old married couple. And among Natalie's abandonment issues are some issues about /cheating/ that Bahir is well aware of. So while Bahir might kiss Natalie to say, 'Yes, we could have,' he would not want to put her in a position where those issues come out -- and neither would he want to threaten what he has: his relationship with Percy OR his relationship with Natalie.
It is a very bittersweet end for them. An acknowledgement of all that they mean to each other with the acknowledgement of what they will never be. But what they have is pretty powerful stuff. And I love Bahir and Natalie for being that relationship, and I love Tat for playing it with me. <3<3<3