Smoke and Mirrors, 8

Smoker had absolutely no idea what to buy. 

That was his first problem, of course, but not the last. He was completely out of place in a feminine shop and painfully aware of the fact. He shrugged the jitte he wore strapped to his back around, conscious that it might snag some dainty thing from its hanger and trap him in yet another awkward situation. The undergarments were bad enough, but he'd skipped past that section quickly, lingering instead near the dresses. She had liked wearing the one the tailor on ship had made for her. But that fell apart as he thought that she'd never get to wear the damned thing. The recent banquet had been the only time in five years they had allowed her to get out. 

The big man bit down on the smoldering cigars in his mouth, aware that the ladies running the shop were frowning at the smoke but unwilling to lose a sale. He ignored them and ran a hand through his hair, thinking hard. 

The reason was simple enough, and had started the other morning at their usual meeting. She'd arrived sleepy and out of sorts due to the nightmare she had that had jolted her awake. He was considerate enough not to mention that he had lost sleep due to that, as well. And good thing, too, because she was in rare form that day. The Marine ship was docking at a small town to resupply and give the weary men and women some shore leave. Just a few days, sure, but she didn't get that luxury. It grated on her nerves terribly, especially since she'd miss seeing him the next day. He'd been granted a day off to go do whatever he liked.

"Just give me the damned thing." She made clutching motions with her fingers as she scowled darkly. "C'mon, I want to get back and sleep more. Can't do anything anyway. Might as well."

He sighed and handed her the sheet. "What have you been doing with them lately?" She used to throw them back in his face in many creative ways. Now they just dissappeared and he never saw them again.

"Wipe my nose on them." She shrugged.

"All right," he said gruffly, "I get to leave and you don't. Did you give Tashigi a list?" He stared at her and she nodded, then sniffed. "Then drop it."

"Fine." She stood up, the papers clutched in her hand. And without another word she marched to the door and knocked on it for the guard! He snorted angrily but barked the order to open it. She left without looking around, her shoulders thrown back and her feet clacking strongly on the wooden floor. He'd quirked a smile at the door as it closed again. 

Fiery little thing, he thought affectionately. That's when he'd come up with the idea to buy her a gift when he was out. He was not the most thoughtful of men, but getting something for her on the day he was off the ship would show he'd been thinking of her. 

Unfortunately, when he reached one of the shops along the boardwalk he realized something. To his chagrin, everything he picked up reminded him of the fact that she wasn't free. Cut flowers - plucked and they would eventually die. Dresses, well, he'd already thought of that. If they made him think that way, they'd really depress her and be a terrible gift. So he kept looking. He fingered the soft trim of a girlish-looking coat and all of a sudden an idea struck him, so absolutely perfect that he smiled. The woman raised her eyebrows, astonished at the change that came over him when he did. He looked like he was in his late thirties, but in that brief flash of happiness the age melted away and he was almost a boy again. She was so stunned that she didn't try to keep him when he asked if there was a certain shop in the district. And anyway, the sooner he left, the faster they could air the place out.

He was quite pleased with himself the next morning when he called for her visit. When she walked in he didn't waste time giving it to her; he could see she must have had another bad night. This would brighten things considerably - he hoped.

"Here," he muttered, tossing a crudely-wrapped package at her. The shop had used brown paper, and he hadn't thought to request anything nicer.

"What is it?" She caught it and turned it over curiously.

"A gift."

Elly glanced at him in surprise. "You bought me something? But - but you didn't need to."

"Open it already," he said, his voice growing gruffer by the minute. She couldn't tell if he was pissed or nervous. Maybe it was both. Wondering, she tore the cord off and slipped a bundle of soft, fragrant material out of the brown paper. 

"Leather!" She held it out, unfolding it, and gasped. It was a gorgeous white coat with fur trim tinted the same green as his. Military colors, she thought, but even that couldn't take away from her pleasure. Her hands wandered over the pliable skin, smooth and perfect. More to have something to do, she flipped it over and saw the back had writing on it like his did. But unlike his that read "Justice", hers read "Freedom". She slowly raised one hand to her mouth and pressed it there, squeezing her eyes shut.

"When you get your freedom," he cleared his throat, "I'm going to take you for a ride. You'll need that."

"But we're usually in the middle of the, the ..." Her eyes filled with tears and she kept her head down, gripping the jacket tightly.

"Doesn't matter. I can go anywhere. I'll take you away from this damned ship as soon as I can. For awhile." She knew she sould say something, but she couldn't speak past the lump in her throat. All yesterday she had been so angry at everyone, especially him, because she was stuck behind. And he'd used his time buying her this well-thought-out present. She stood up slowly and slipped one arm though, then the other, shrugging it all the way on. It fit well, slightly baggy which was how she liked to wear things. Still unable to speak, she quietly walked around the desk where he was seated and fell down on her knees. When he leaned over to pull her up, she threw her arms around his knees. After a moment she felt his hands lightly stroking her hair. They stayed that way until Elly's legs started to ache and she was forced to stand up. By then she had regained some composure and was able to look him in the eye.

"Thanks," was all she said, but he understood. And this time when he gave her the contract paperwork, she folded it neatly in a pocket of her new jacket before she left.