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ship of theseus

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This is not her lover’s face. This is not her lover’s voice. This is not her lover’s body.

But, it is Camile’s touch.

Even across the universe, in some miscellaneous soldier’s body, Camile still touches her the same way. The light, warm pressure of her palm; the slight grip of her fingers. Sometimes, there’s a hesitation in the way she moves, Sharon notices. Especially when she goes to reach for her. It reminds Sharon of the way Camile touched her when they first started dating — slow, questioning, almost awed at having the right to even reach out. She used to tease Camile about it, before she’d left for the Icarus base, her shy tenderness so at odds with her bold persona at work.

Now, it would be cruel to bring up.

Sharon isn’t sure how to touch Camile’s new, temporary body. She wonders about the soldier whose body Camile is in now. If she felt like she’d signed away her body. If she even cared, since Sharon isn't touching her, not really. She wonders if Camile had had to request a woman specifically, if a justification was needed for that. She wonders if the others stranded on Destiny even know Camile left someone behind. The thought isn’t fair, but neither is this situation. Camile should be back in their home, telling her to get rid of that damn chair with her own voice. Sharon forces her mind away from the hopelessness of it, knowing that Camile will come back to her, has come back to her.

Maybe it isn’t the body she’s used to, but it is still Camile touching her. Sharon reaches back, across the small gap between their bodies, across the vacuum of the universe.