"To continue to borrow and somewhat mangle your metaphor, I may not spend every moment of my life in that desert anymore, but even in oceans, people get thirsty, and after seeing first-hand, all my life, how bad things can get, I will never stop opposing those who wish to control or gatekeep the rain. If there's not enough, I will make more."

"That, is what I'm about."

"It's— the thing we do, it's not about gatekeeping. We don't stop people from having sex. Or demonize them, or even particularly discourage them."

"We just, also, teach people how to build obstacle courses. For those who want it. But we don't put them in the way. You can always walk around."

"We do have the Disciples, after all. The Burners don't— they're not against sex, but they don't go in for charity, they think you should have to earn your bread'n'bed. 'Be part of the community', like everyone's supposed to be equal."

"It's obvious that the thing you do isn't about gatekeeping," Cameron agrees. "I just want you to have the faintest idea of the nerve you struck."

Cameron runs her hand through her hair. The gesture ought to put the elegant chaos of her swept strands in disarray, but for seemingly no reason but chance every strand falls perfectly back into place afterward.

"I really need to talk to a Burner at some point. Tomorrow, even."

"I... told you to hold back, when you come from a place where everyone is constantly trying to hold each other back. And there are always winners and losers. I told you to do the thing that sits at the core of your society's base cruelty."

"...I hope that's the worst thing about your society." She grimaces.

Cameron smiles wryly.

"I think it is. But I'm somewhat fixated, you may have noticed."

"'One true cause', yeah."

"In our culture, starting to undress is flirting." He lets his fingers briefly touch his shirt collar, near where his bowtie had been, as though unconsciously.

Cameron doesn't actually recall that the Doc Alvin may once have worn a bowtie.

This seems like another of his inscrutable mixed signals. Good thing she's still cheating.

Why is he... actually, she should just ask. "You say that, while deliberately drawing attention to how you're not starting to undress, like the thing you want is for me to know you're not flirting with me. To be perfectly honest, if I couldn't sense your attraction to me with my magic I'd still think you find me distasteful, like I represent a source of shame or, maybe, remind you of an unpleasant relationship."

(His attraction flares when she mentions sensing him.)

He opens his mouth. Closes it again.

"I—"

There's a knock at the front door. A voice comes filtering in. "Doctor Clement?"

"I'm sorry," he says, sounding genuinely regretful, "but I must see to that." He goes out to the front room, closing the interior door behind him.

After a few seconds, Tegan turns back to Cameron.

"Do you remember when you first healed him?"

"Of course," she says, a moment before she realizes what Tegan is getting at.

"...though admittedly not in perfect detail. I wasn't using magic to cheat, then, either."

"He undid his bowtie."

Cameron will take Tegan's word for it.

...oh.

That actually explains a lot.

Cameron zones out for a moment as she goes over her memories with the new context. She was accidentally callous, she can see that now. And he was into it, she can see that too, but that's no excuse for her failing to notice her own confusion. She should've used her magical senses immediately and poked at the situation until she understood. And maybe teased him on purpose, if at all.

(Her eyes close in figurative pain.) She let her guard down. Got complacent. Ironic, considering Tegan's earlier insult. Even if she's among people who'd be fine without her, she can't let herself grow lax like that.

She sees the pained look, starts to say one of the usual things, remembers who she's talking to. Tries to reason through the implications.

"...you haven't hurt him," she says, after slightly too long a pause.

"...I'm just very unaccustomed to feeling clumsy."

She may not be merely talking about the Doc, here.

"You're in a strange place. Things don't work the way you're used to. You're gonna make mistakes," she almost says, before she remembers Cameron's other mistake.

"...do you want a hug," she falls back on, for lack of anything better to contribute.

That sort of depends on if Tegan actually wants to hug her or not, but as a rule Cameron doesn't turn down hugs.

It's not exactly a terrible hardship.

Tegan hugs her tightly, just this side of uncomfortable, and holds. She encourages Cameron to her feet, so they can embrace properly, bodies pressed together, sharing warmth and skin. (The little that she's wearing somehow manages to accent, rather than interfere with, the intimacy of the contact.)

That's neat. This is a good hug. Cameron takes (mental) notes.

"I usually," Cameron says, "try to become what my lovers yearn for. Whatever it is they need, I can usually find those feelings inside myself if I dig. I'm very adaptable that way; I rarely have to pretend. But I guess that falls apart, somewhat, if those I'm with aren't carrying such a yearning, like a stone in their hearts..."

"I don't think I would've guessed that, on my own, but it makes sense. Like a ship without a compass."

"Do you have – allies? People who are more like you, than like your..." patronagees? beneficiaries? "...patients?"

"Clients, usually. But I'm not picky about terminology, and have used 'patients' unironically before."

"My partner, Eelesia. She's not like me, but that's why we're good for each other. We have a very... back-to-back, relationship, fitting into each other's faults. My friends from the porn studio. They understand. Especially Vanessa."

"It's a small island of sanity, but a good and reliable one. And it's not alone."

At this, Cameron manages to sound slightly embarrassed. "I have, um, followers."

Nod.

She releases the hug, to take Cameron's hands in hers. "Maybe we—Gesland—can be something a little like that, to you. A larger island. I still think you shouldn't start a holy war, but – there are other ways to go changing the world."

"That's a nice idea, and thank you, but I think we can assume Gesland isn't the right kind of sane, for that to work."

 "...why exactly are you worried I might start a holy war," she also says, like someone who has ever accidentally caused at least one riot.

"Gesland isn't the whole world."

"I don't think other places here are as bad as you describe... Akerima? —no, uh, I forget— the place where you came from. But I haven't actually been."

"And, well, holy wars have been known to happen, when a god or a goddess decides that the lands outside their center of power aren't living up to what they consider adequate standards. Not always, not even usually at least nowadays, but— it's happened enough to be a, a type. And it's always horrible. Even the Silver Fang did more harm than good – it was ultimately ordinary diplomatic alderage that put an end to infant sacrifice."