FAÇADE
Vila stalked off the flight deck, leaving a stunned Liberator crew in his wake.
My gods, what have I done now? he thought. All my carefully crafted façade shattered by one outraged moment. They'll never believe I'm a Delta again!
But that mission was just the last straw. Tarrant proposed it, but Cally, Dayna and even Avon backed him on it – and I would be most in danger, doing most of the work. It all depended on me!
It wasn't really feasible, either. The kind of timing and the locks and codes I'd have to get past – just wouldn't work! And I told them so, but they wouldn't listen – not to a Delta, anyway.
Vila finally went to ground in his own cabin, locking the door securely. He simply couldn't think of a way to deal with what he'd done, what he'd said. Maybe he could hide out here forever and never have to face any of them again! Fat chance! he thought.
He'd flung himself onto his bunk and at least tried to think his way out of the predicament, but had simply slipped into neutral, his mind circling lazily in upon itself, so the door chime didn't even register. The next thing he knew, Avon was standing next to his bunk, arms crossed, a frown on his face.
Vila's eyes widened in surprise.
"How did you get in here? I know I locked the door," he protested.
"Do you think I've been around you all this time without learning something about picking locks, Vila?" he replied, an amused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. After a moment's uncomfortable silence, he continued, "Do you want talk about it?" He didn't specify what 'it' he was talking about, but Vila knew.
Vila flung himself on his face on the bed, mumbling against the covers, "What's to talk about? I blew it! All those years of building a façade gone in one unthinking moment." He turned his head toward Avon, finding him seated in a chair next to the bed. "How can I face them…face you, now, when you all know I've been putting on an act all this time?" He seriously hoped Avon would have an answer – he always had an answer, didn't he?
And Avon did, after a fashion. "Well, you could treat it like my lockpicking," he suggested, and waited for the idea to penetrate Vila's misery.
"You mean, pretend I learned 'Alpha' from being around you all for so long?" He looked up eagerly. "Do you think it'll work, Avon? Will the rest believe it?" Then he thought of another obstacle. "Of course, it won't work for you – you'd know the truth. It would never be the same between us again."
"They'll believe you, I think. Me – well, I'll believe, too, because basically I want to. The last thing I need right now is another Alpha questioning my authority. I have quite enough to handle with Tarrant already."
"What I do need," he continued, "is a Delta thief who can analyze with Alpha brains and suggest solutions and angles that I've missed. I…might be more inclined to listen to that Delta." He swung around from studying his hands to look directly into Vila's hopeful eyes. "Are you that Delta, Vila?"
"Perhaps. I hope so, Avon. I'll give it a try, anyway. And…thanks…for caring enough to ask."
Immediately, Avon rose to leave. But Vila wasn't letting him get away that easily, not when he thought he saw a beam of light peeking through a chink in Avon's armor. He meant to push his perceived advantage while he could.
"You've a good façade there yourself, you know," he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "It's a pretty good cover, but even you slip occasionally."
Avon stopped, his back to Vila, tense as though expecting an attack. "What do you mean – MY façade?"
"That arrogant, I-don't-care Alpha veneer. You do care – about the crew, the Cause, what others think. But you can't let them see that, or they could use it against you. I've had a lot of time to study you and every once in awhile, you slip up and show you care."
Vila laughed. "You just don't do it as spectacularly as I did, that's all. With you it's always subtle. If I weren't watching for those little slips, I'd never have noticed them."
Avon turned and stared at Vila warily, truly seeing the Alpha mind behind the Delta disguise for the first time – and it worried him. He'd never admit that Vila the Delta was right, but Vila the Alpha most assuredly was.
He tried to brazen it out, without much success. "I don't know what you mean," he replied coldly.
"Come off it, Avon," Vila said. "I'm not having it. I know what I've seen. Facts don't lie."
Avon managed to look deflated without moving a muscle. He knew he'd lost that round.
"So, Vila, what do you intend to do with this new knowledge of me?"
"Why, I'm going to pretend I don't know it, of course. You'll be the same unfeeling bastard you've tried to portray and I'll be the same brainless their I've always played. We'll go on as we always have."
"But…" Avon prompted.
"But you'll know to listen to me a little better for ideas and I'll know you care what happens to us. I can trust you a little more in the future, that's all."
"Yes…" Avon drew out the word almost into a hiss, "I suppose we can…co-exist under those new rules." He breathed in deeply, held it, then exhaled, for all the world like a warrior preparing to face battle.
"We both gain from it, Avon, you know." That stopped Avon's incipient retreat again. He waited.
"We both know now that there's someone else who really knows us – and stays beside us anyway. That's a very powerful idea, Avon. Think on it."
With that, Vila sprang off the bunk, intent upon rebuilding his Delta image with the rest of the crew. Together the pair left the cabin, Vila striding rapidly toward the flight deck with Avon following more slowly, deep in thought. Presently, a tiny smile of contentment briefly appeared on his face before being firmly suppressed and banished behind his own façade.