Disclaimer: Andromeda belongs not to me.
A/N: It's been kindly pointed out to me on another board that it resembles a song called „Take that look off your face". I normally hate this kind of music and therefore didn't know the song previously, but now I do – and it's a beautiful song; and actually better fitting for the story than the rather humorous poem by Eugen Roth I had in mind while writing it...
You must be mistaken, I'm sure that you are! There's more than one car with stickers on. And lots of young guys wear courdrary pants. And I'd know if he hadn't gone!
Take that look off yor face! I can see through your smile! You would love to be right, I bet, you didn't sleep good last night, couldn't wait to bring all of these bad news to my door. Well, I've got news for you: I knew before.
I'f I'm not mistaken, it started last year. I'm not very clear how it began... I noticed a change, but I just closed my eyes as only a woman can.
No, I didn't dig deep. I did not want to know. Well, you don't interfere when you're scared of the things, you might hear. When he's back, you think, I will end it right there and then? Well, my fair weather friend - you're wrong again!
(Courtesy of Anzibanonzi over at ExIsle)
Okay, it doesn't apply to the situation exactly, but the mood is certainly there.
Set in S 4, before Molly leaves again at the end of „Waking the Tyrant's Device". Rommie is though slightly OOC, although I always had a vague impression of her being a bit jealous at times...
That look on your face!
I know it's hurting you. Maybe as much as me. Then again – maybe not. You've always been jealous: first of me, then of every female he ever seemed to fancy, even Trance. And then – time and again – of me afresh. And although I know that you really like me, that you trust me, that you are my friend I wish that I could wipe that look off your face.
I wish that I could wipe out everything, to be quite honest. Especially this transfer request of Dylan's to High Guard High Command. He didn't even ask me, he simply went ahead and asked for Molly to be assigned to the Andromeda Ascendant, without asking you, without asking me – I bet he did it even without asking Molly. What if she agrees?
You're still standing here in front of me, prying for my reaction, a smug look in your eyes. Can androids look smug? This android certainly can.
I have to tell you something. But I can't. I can't. Rev left. Trance changed. Tyr ran. And now... now Dylan is... Is what? He doesn't owe me an explanation on this one, he doesn't have to ask me, except... Except I feel he does. Why are you looking at me that way, half expecting, half uncertain and half... satisfied? That's one half too many. Why satisfied? Because you know I'm hurting too over this one? What do you expect me to say?
The night on Ganglia Drift, when he came to look for me in this bar... I thought... I wish you would go away. What am I to say to you? I know what I would like to say...
That I think you're mistaken... That on Ganglia Drift... That he told me that Molly... That there might be lots of explanations as to why he didn't discuss her transfer with us... That he wouldn't lie to us... to me...
But why tell you that? To calm you or me?
I've felt it coming for a long, long time, ever since his latest experience with a black hole... He's ever since been looking for... I don't know... For something none of us could give him, losing himself bit by bit... Like we... - like I was losing him. He's changed, he's changed a lot, yet I just shut my eyes like only women do. Understandable, somehow: when you dream something pleasant, you refuse to wake up. Dreams are so comfortable, especially when reality is as scary as ours seems to have become.
I know what you are now expecting me to do. And since you cannot do it, you want me to confront him, to cause a scene, a scandal, to walk out on him – on your behalf and mine. To tell him to get lost and that I give up on him. That way I'll be gone, he'll sooner or later resent Molly for it... and will remain with you.
Well, dear lady, he isn't Tyr, an that is just not going to happen: I let Tyr slip away, but with this one I'll fight it out. So don't celebrate just yet. And don't bother pitying me. If you expect me to throw a tantrum, to start crying... don't. Just don't, all right?
I know it's hurting you so much that you find satisfaction in the fact that it is hurting me, too – but your triumph might prove a lot smaller than you think. That Molly is somehow special to him... I've known that all along. So don't hesitate to look me in the eye and believe me: nothing will break apart. Not this time. Not again. If you want tears from me, I am so very sorry – you won't be getting any.
All of it will pass, this one will go away – just like the others did.
So you might just as well take that look off your face...
