A/N: Drabbles? What are drabbles? I've obviously forgotten how to write them.

Open communication and consent are both sexy and good for you. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.

In other news, I seem to be running out of material to make oneshots for. There are only so many Garnet episodes in the show, and I can only scrape through all of the interesting/plot relevant episodes for tiny details so many times (and I highly doubt Watermelon Island, which comes out on the 6th, is going to do much to help with that). All told, I've got about three days before I well and truly run out of stuff to post for this story (or I just exclusively post Unit 6 stuff). Seriously, I'm about ready to start writing human AUs, and that... (shudders) is NOT my style. So, if some kind human would like to save me from such a fate, I'm open to oneshot suggestions. :)

"So have they given you a timeline?" asks Sapphire one day. She isn't quite sure how Ruby will react to this, all truth told (it feels impolite to look into Ruby's personal future, somehow, so she hasn't), but she is trying really hard not to bottle things up again. She wants to prove that she's learned from the worst fight she's ever had with the best friend she's ever had.

"Huh?" Ruby starts from her reverie. She's been moving through sets and drills with her boxing gloves for the last several hours, mostly because it's something to do. It's pretty clear she doesn't perceive Sapphire as a threat anymore. When this arrangement first began, she never would have allowed herself to be startled like this.

Sapphire almost doesn't, but she forces herself to repeat the question anyway, adding with a gesture to Ruby's relaxed posture, "You clearly don't think I need this kind of supervision anymore, and I'm well acclimated with our fellow inmates at this point, so the threat of turning this Unit upside down is basically null and void. I can't be the only one who sees this. So have the Unit 6 senior Supervisors or the Diamonds told you when you'll be transferred out?"

"Oh." Ruby's expression becomes decidedly enigmatic, like it always does before she gets overly emotional. "I didn't realize you were thinking about that."

Sapphire doesn't want to upset her friend, but she also doesn't understand why Ruby is starting to feel upset to begin with. It takes a few somewhat frantic moments of trying out different responses before she finds one with the highest probability of being taken well.

"Aren't you? If I had a chance to live on the surface I'd be pretty excited about it. I mean, you'd get to see sunlight again."

Ruby's demeanor softens. "There is that," she admits.

"How is that not the only thing on your mind? Haven't they been talking to you about this?"

The red gem shifts her weight somewhat uncomfortably. "Of course they have," she murmurs.

And she hasn't been telling Sapphire about it. It shouldn't, but that hurts.

"I didn't know how to broach the subject with you," Ruby continues before Sapphire can think of something worth saying. She scuffs the soft sole of her ankle-high boot against the metal floor. "I didn't know how you'd handle it."

"I don't understand. How does my reaction matter to your freedom? Unless—oh." Sapphire pauses as potential reactions to being left alone occur to her. "I wouldn't do anything to cause you to be called back," she promises. "I'm defective, not unstable."

Ruby flashes a smile at the unofficial catchphrase of Containment Unit 6. It fades rather quickly, something that Sapphire disappoints in. It doesn't make much sense—well, it does if she recalls her vision from a while back, don't think of such preposterous futures—but it's true, and at this point Sapphire knows better than to lie to herself.

"I don't think you've been pretending to make friends this entire time, if that's what you're implying," Ruby says. "And I don't think you'd try to sabotage my chances of getting to the surface, either."

"Then why worry about me?"

"Because that's what friends do, Sapphire." Then, at Sapphire's entirely unconvinced silence, she elaborates. "What if you get lonely being all by yourself again?"

"Why would that be something for you to worry about, though? It's not like it affects you."

"But it would be my fault. I don't want to do that to you."

"But…" Sapphire is at a loss. Her mind keeps flashing traitorously to that ridiculous vision, the one where they are, under no uncertain terms, agreeing to become more than friends. Is that scene more inevitable than others? Is it even what she wants? What does it matter what she thinks, if Ruby leaves Containment Unit 6 in favor of a life on the surface? Sapphire certainly can't begrudge her for taking the opportunity.

"But I shouldn't be factoring into it," she finally murmurs.

Would she be okay going back to a life where she spends twenty hours of every day in complete isolation?

Sapphire fiercely shuts down that train of thought, and especially the visions of potential futures that it brings. There's a reason she hasn't allowed herself to think too much about this. About Ruby. She knew from the start that this was only a temporary arrangement, has known for nigh on three centuries that Ruby was working towards her freedom with this job. None of her opinions matter because they don't change the circumstances under which she and Ruby interact. That's why she's tried so hard to keep from having any.

"Yeah, well." Ruby gestures somewhat helplessly, like even she can't quite explain it. "You're factoring into it."

"You shouldn't let that happen. I'll be fine. I always am."

"You say that, and maybe you will be, but…"

Oh, she gets it now.

The cold that emanates from her—the frost that creeps over the floor like so many spreading fingers—is nothing if not immature. Uncalled for. Why is she letting her emotions get the better of her, now of all times? "You don't have to worry about that," she says, her voice carefully controlled. Her diction is perfect, too, which somehow matters a lot right now. She hides the fact that her fists are clenched in the folds of her skirt. "I'm not so lonely and pathetic that I need this. I was perfectly fine before this arrangement happened, and I'll—"

"I don't want to go!" Ruby shouts, causing Sapphire to stop dead in her proverbial tracks. Ruby's fists are clenched too, only she's holding them against her temples. Instead of meeting Sapphire's cold, angry gaze she's looking at the communications center and blinking rapidly. A sound of distress escapes her as she tangles her fingers into her curly hair, and she whispers, "I don't want to leave."

Sapphire feels a little like she's just been slammed into a wall hard enough to make a dent. All of the rage and hurt and indignation drains swiftly out of her, causing her fists to become limp fingers and her mouth to hang slack. "Wha—but why?" she says in a voice that's mostly all breath. "This is your freedom, Ruby. Nothing should be more important."

She doesn't know how to react when she sees the first tear track down Ruby's cheek. "Nothing was, at first," she confesses in a thin voice. The palm she uses to wipe her face clean is shaking. "Even when we first became friends, I still thought it was worth more than anything. I was so sick of being called defective and broken and unworthy. I was so sick of looking at myself like that, and I really thought that this was the best way of making all of it go away."

"It didn't?" Sapphire feels half numb. I wasn't the only one who felt like that?

Ruby shakes her head and swipes her palm across her wet cheeks again. "I was hoping it would feel like a triumph, rubbing into the faces of the Diamond Authority themselves that they were wrong about me, and maybe they had always been, but instead. Instead it just… doesn't matter." She sniffs loudly, and lets out a small, humorless laugh. "It's not that I've given them their comeuppance, it's more that it no longer applies." She looks at Sapphire. "They're just not worth the effort anymore."

"Ruby, do you hear yourself? How can you not care?" cries Sapphire, her voice rising for what feels like the first time. "You need to stick it in their faces for the both of us, because you actually have a chance to get out of here!"

"Yes, but at what cost?"

"None to you! Isn't that enough?"

Ruby shakes her head. "It's not. You're the one who counts the days since you last saw the sky, not me."

"I'm never going to see the sky again, Ruby," she says, though she doesn't mean for the words to come out as sharply as they do. Still, though how has Ruby not figured this out yet? "Even if my usefulness somehow expires, I know far more than someone of my station should. I'll be shattered and swept up before I can even think about seeing the sun again. But you," she gestures with the hand that's holding her gem. "You know nothing about that, other than the fact that I do it. When they offer freedom to you, Ruby, you'll actually get it." Her voice breaks then, and the calm logic she's been trying so hard to wrestle herself into begins to fall apart. "Don't you understand? You can have so much better than this."

"And what if I don't want it," says Ruby quietly. One last wipe, and all of a sudden she is dry eyed as she regards Sapphire directly. Her gaze is powerful, too, as strong and unyielding as everything else about her. "If you can't come with me?"

"Wha—I don't…" Sapphire doesn't remember the last time she was this inarticulate. It isn't because she doesn't have anything to articulate, that's for sure. But what to say first?

Don't talk like that. It will just make things harder when you go.

I'm not the only one?

Why would you do this?

Thank you.

You stupid, silly, endearing—no, I don't mean that—argh! See what you do to me?

What does it mean that I don't want to resent you for saying this?

Ruby is still watching her, waiting for the statement to percolate. She doesn't look leery, per se, but she clearly understands that her remark is not being taken lightly.

Her red hands are still quivering; Sapphire can see it from here.

"We—we've never talked about this," Sapphire says finally, her voice faint.

"I know." Ruby glances away, but only for a moment. Are her cheeks rosier than usual? "There are a lot of things we haven't discussed that probably should have come up a long time ago. I just thought that, if I'm going to go anyway, the least we could do is touch upon the greatest of it. I—I don't know why, but I didn't want you to find out from someone else, long after the fact."

It's really, really hard to keep herself in check right now. Perspective, remember? Doing anything now is only going to hurt worse later. They can't possible get away with challenging the Diamond Authority over this.

Is this even what she wants? Sapphire's entire knowledge of being more than friends both begins and ends with Ruby. Doesn't that mean it's all skewed towards her, too?

Ha, skewed.

"I was hoping to bring it up in better circumstances," Ruby confesses. She gestures again, as helpless as ever. "But there again, I never have the nerve until you push me."

This isn't a sudden revelation. Not really. The reason Sapphire can't seem to talk is because the dam she has constructed against these thoughts and emotions and potential futures has officially come down, and she's still trying to stay afloat in the proverbial deluge. Truth is, she's known about this for a long time. She's pretty sure she's reciprocated for about as long, too.

"It's hard to tell the difference between obligation and authentic trust, in these situations," she murmurs to no one in particular. "We're forced to spend every single day together. Are we just adapting so we don't end up killing each other?"

"I don't know. Is that what you think?"

"Not entirely. I… I've been trying not to think about it. The probability of something like this working…"

"So you have seen it. I've always wondered." Ruby hesitates, and then visibly decides why the hell not. "That vision you blushed over, was that…?"

Sapphire can't help the dry, flat look she shoots the other gem. "You actually have to ask?"

"Not much fazes you, I know," says Ruby, holding up her hands. "I still had to make sure—like the one you really freaked out about. Are you ever going to confirm that?"

"Honestly, I still don't understand that one. I haven't experienced anything like it either before or since. The emotion from the vision—a nonsensical thing, from my current perspective—transferred, somehow. I don't understand any more than that."

"Is the reason you've never mentioned any of the details of your visions because you're trying to protect me from knowing too much?"

"I want you to have the fresh start you deserve. It wouldn't happen if you knew the dirty details about the question and answer game I play with the Diamonds."

Sapphire doesn't need future vision to know what Ruby will say next. Her choice—and her commitment to that choice—is all over her face. "And hearing about these visions would make it impossible for them to send me to the surface, right?"

It's wrong. It's awful that she is even considering this.

"You don't know what you're asking for, Ruby."

"Because it's that terrible?"

"How horrifying potential futures may or may not be isn't the problem. You're asking to hear about them all at the expense of your own fate. You have no idea if this would work, or even if I agree to it. Don't you see how impulsive that is?"

For a moment Ruby just gives her this funny look. Then she becomes direct, "And will it work?"

"You know future vision doesn't work like that. There are—" Sapphire stops herself. How hard, exactly, is she willing to fight this? Ruby's stance, though it hasn't been stated explicitly, is nonetheless obvious. That means the ball is in Sapphire's court. That vision of them will only come true if she chooses to make it so.

She lets out a breath. "I'm not telling you the details of what I do for the Diamonds." Then, just as Ruby begins to argue, "If you truly want to stay here longer, we're going to have to come up with a way to stall. You have to prove I still need supervision, and you're the only one who can do it, but I refuse to leave you without a way out. Not for something that's so uncertain."

"You're talking like you want me to stay, too," she says slowly. "But your demeanor is ambiguous."

"I'm sure it is."

"Do you not want to give this a try? Because if that's the case—"

"I want you to stay."

For all that Sapphire speaks quietly, the words hang in the air as if she's shouted.

"Sapphire?"

She holds up her hand when Ruby takes a step closer, and the red gem stops, watching her with eyes that aren't certain, but they aren't malicious either. "I shouldn't be telling you that," Sapphire says.

"I started it."

"That doesn't make it okay for me to be holding you back." She drops her hand and hides clenched fists in the folds of her petticoats. Her voice is staying level so far. Good. Hopefully she'll be able to keep it up. "Just because there's something I want doesn't mean I have the right to trap you down here with me. This may be your only chance at freedom, Ruby; you have to take it. You can't look back, not for anyone or anything."

At first Ruby doesn't say anything. Sapphire feels her limbs tense. An unexpected heat causes her eye to water under her bangs. She blinks hard, forcing it back. This is the right thing to do, she knows it. What she feels doesn't matter. This is more important. Ruby is more important.

"What if there was another fight?" says Ruby suddenly.

Sapphire is wholly and truly thrown off by the question. When she blinks this time, there are suddenly no tears to be forced back. "Pardon?"

"You used to fight other gems all the time. That was one of the main reasons you were shuffled around Containment Units, right?"

"I don't understand where you're going with this, Ruby."

She does once Ruby explains. The plan doesn't involve revealing the dirty details from her future vision, and it guarantees Ruby at least ten or fifteen more years of work as a handler, which is more than enough for a decent probationary period. As for what happens afterwards…

"So, will it work?" asks Ruby with an expectant look, after they've hashed out most of the technical details. What she's really asking is, are they going to find us out?

Sapphire takes a moment to consult the various possibilities. She still can't quite get over how easy that is now. How had she ever functioned with such disjointed and unreliable future vision before? What a handicap that second eye had been.

"Eight out of nine potential futures show success," Sapphire replies—which, honestly, are pretty excellent odds. "But are you sure you actually want to do this?"

"If nothing else works out, then it will be fifteen extra years spent in good company." Ruby shrugs, and then smiles. "I could do a lot worse."