DISCLAIMER: Evangelion does not belong to me, yadda yadda, no copyright infringement intended. This is merely humble fanfiction.

- In Lies We Trust -

Misato had not returned by the time Ritsuko looked up from her computer. She had been working for five hours straight, and her back hurt. She propped herself up against the cluttered table, stretching cramped muscles.

It seemed Misato had been out late every other day since she had met Kaji three weeks ago. Ritsuko was thinking of speaking to her about that boy. That tow-headed boy who thought he was god's gift to women! He made a good buddy, and she supposed he was kind, but a boyfriend for Misato should be someone more committed. She had heard of his reputation. Yes, she really ought to speak to her about him.

Ritsuko turned at the sound of a sizeable weight hitting the sliding panel. She heard a muffled curse, then a foot appeared, shoving the panel aside. A head of bright blue hair peeked past the doorway, her wide eyes visible even from Ritsuko's chair at the room's other end.

"Sorry, I d-didn't think you'd still be awake," Misato stammered, giving her roommate a grin. It was silly and large and decidedly... Ritsuko caught a whiff of something. Something strong.

"Been drinking again?"

"Ah, Ritsuko, I always drink." She sprawled onto the nearest bed, which didn't happen to be hers. Ritsuko watched her calmly, noting the bright red low-cut dress she wore; Ritsuko had always thought this dress suited her ill but had kept her opinion to herself.

Silence. Misato kicked off her heels.

"Tonight was fun." Her words were slightly slurred. The slim legs continued kicking, windmilling the air meaninglessly. "You should go out more, have fun too. Maybe you could join Kaji-san and I for a drink sometime."

"I'd just get in the way."

"We wouldn't mind. We get bored of each other's company."

Ritsuko could hear her smile. She bent to scribble a few lines in her notebook. "You like him, don't you."

"No I don't. He's boring. But good for a short fling."

When Ritsuko had a point to make, she rarely failed to make it. She drew a circle around some numbers. "You should be careful with people like Kaji. He might just disappear on you one day without warning." She paused. "But you like him."

"Maybe," Misato conceded. "But," she laced her fingers behind her hair, "not as much as I like you."

Ritsuko laughed along with her, but the smile faltered on her lips. She stole a glance at Misato. "You've always liked the bad boys," she said casually, returning the conversation to the previous, teasing vein. This prompted a wave of the hand from Misato.

"And you don't?"

Ritsuko was quiet. An image of a man had entered her mind unbidden, a man with sunken eyes and unruly hair who seemed to look right through her. She shuddered internally and concentrated on the present. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't bring me into your bad-boy fantasies."

Misato giggled. She rolled over to lie prostrate on the bed, burying her face in a down pillow. "Where would we be without our dreams? Life sucks," she complained in a muffled voice. After a while she added, "I'm going to enlist."

"Did Kaji-san ask you to?"

"What do you think I am?" Misato retorted lazily, "I've always wanted to join the corps. Get my medals, rise up in the ranks. It's what my father would have wanted."

Misato might have expected her to continue the argument. Instead, Ritsuko simply said, "I'm signing up for the internship with NERV."

Nothing. Then Misato's head popped up. "You too, huh?" She groaned, rubbing her head. "All the better. We might be working together in future, then."

Ritsuko looked at her. They had both known all along that they were on these paths. Why did she have to make it sound like they had a choice? Like they'd ever have a choice. But that was one of Misato's good points, a spark of girlish brightness that clung resiliently to the light.

As if sensing her roommate's coldness — hard not to when the temperature had dropped a notch — Misato swung her feet to the side of the bed and staggered forward. "So. What have you been up to today?"

Ritsuko tapped her notebook against the equations blinking across the screen, the ones she kept an eye on even as she tracked Misato's whimsical passage towards her.

"Huh. Not again! Take a break and chat with me."

"I already am," she noted, not missing a beat.

She felt cold fingers on the back of her shoulders. Misato was leaning over her shoulder, glancing dismissively at the computer screen. She didn't need to look to know what the expression on her face was. Misato had never liked the nuts and bolts of programming; she was a girl who swept to the heart of the matter with a sure instinct, a person who spent little time actually studying yet received good grades. She seemed popular amongst her coursemates yet remained oddly solitary, unlike Ritsuko herself, who deliberately distanced herself from the bustling social world most others seemed to inhabit, and only picked one of her hordes of admirers for a date once in a blue moon.

Misato lingered, and Ritsuko felt no urgency to ask her to leave.

The fingers moved to her nape and clung there, dark blue wisping down into her peripheral vision. Ritsuko spoke through the odd tightness in her throat. "What do you want?"

"Oh, c'mon, lighten up." Misato sounded almost — sultry? "Why don't we do... it. Help you relax a little."

"You're drunk."

"No I'm not." To prove it, she trailed one hand along the vertical seam of Ritsuko's t-shirt.

Her voice sounded as expressionless as her face was. Rays from the lit screen were jittering at the edges of her shut eyelids. "Stop it."

Then Misato began to suck at an exposed earlobe, and something snapped. She spun around and out of the chair, moving faster than Misato had ever seen her move. Grabbing at bared shoulders — they were bonier than she expected — she tightened her grip. Her arms were trembling. Misato's head was bowed. But equally abruptly, Ritsuko stilled, dropping her eyes. Eyeing the ground doubtfully, she worked at regaining control, mouth working silently for a few seconds before she trusted herself with speech.

"Sex can't solve everything."

"I know." There was a pause. "But — it makes things look better."

"I don't operate like that."

Misato looked up, a defiant light in her eyes. "You don't operate at all. You just sit there and think about some future you'll never have. Don't forget, I've been there with you. Don't forget, you aren't your mother."

A tremor ran through her, but she showed nothing. "You're wrong. You don't know anything."

"I've lived here for long enough to know more than a little."

"You? You can't see beyond the next lay. And... pleasing your father who is dead." Ritsuko knew that was somewhat malicious of her, but a part of her that rarely showed its hand had taken control.

"That is not true, damn it!" Misato was standing on the tips of her toes. She stamped one stockinged foot.

Ritsuko, whose head was lowered, was nevertheless aware of the piercing stare aimed at her. She said nothing.

"Answer me!" the blue-haired girl roared. And again, more weakly, "answer...me."

There was a flurry of quick movement, then silence. Misato had sunk by the foot of her bed in a fetal sitting position. Her hands were clutching her kneecaps and her back was towards Ritsuko.

Ritsuko shaded her eyes with one hand, studied her palm for a moment, then turned away.

Notes:
(1) I'm not all that familiar with the fandom. If I made any glaring mistakes, shunt this off to AU-Land, will ya?
(2) I wanted this to be shoujo-ai. I really did. The characters just refused to get together in any more substantial way, heh.
(3) Yep, I'm a Misato/Ritsuko shipper. There should be more of us around.