Embracing A Starlit Fate

--- --- --- Well, I grew up wishing I could close off the way my dad did 'Cause that man never felt a damn thing he didn't wanna feel But I've burned too many miles tryna ride out all the sadness But you can't outdrive pain, someday it's gonna take the wheel

Can't be alone but don't wanna get close to anybody Don't wanna bare teeth but don't wanna look weak, it's a tough spot But I'm afraid you'll walk away when the tears start running But I hope not

'Cause cowboys cry too They may not let 'em fall down in their hometown Thinking they still got shit to prove That well runs deep But when he's showing his skin, letting me in That's when he's toughest to me

--- --- ---

The drive is silent. The full moon is tomorrow night. She’s anxious, and it gnaws at her. She can feel it even now - something beneath her skin is begging to be set free. Tomorrow will mark only the second time she will transform. And the first is merely a haze. She is nervous. She is scared.

That’s nothing compared to the man sitting next to her. Travis Hackett is going out of his mind. But he’s not showing it. He can’t afford to.

Now she knows, she realises that he is somehow the most level-headed of the entire family.

She wants to say something, but no words which float to the top of her mind seem to fit.

She is part of the problem now.

As they pull-up outside his parents’ house, he attempts to break the awkward silence. But he can’t. This is too much for him. But he still reaches for her hand as they exit the car together.

Hunting Silas isn’t the only priority anymore.

Protecting her is .

Who is he kidding? It always was. **

When they enter, his parents immediately pull him aside, and tell her to wait in the other room. She understands; given her affliction. And given the timing. They are probably planning tomorrow’s hunt, she thinks to herself.

As she opens the door, she is surprised to find Chris and the kids waiting for her; and although hesitant at first, Caleb and Kaylee run to embrace her. She wraps her arms around them, in a protective embrace.

They’ve apologised to her more than a million times, even though it isn’t their fault. This feels to her like another one of those situations.

She feels like a mother, and tries not to think too hard about what her infection means for her own prospects on that.

The ring on her left hand seems to dig into her skin just a little more than it usually does.

“What is this?” She jokes to try to lighten the mood, “a werewolf intervention?”

Chris is the only one to attempt a half-hearted laugh. But the look in his eyes tells her that she didn’t miss the mark by very much.

He pats the seat next to him, and she half turns to look back at the door which is now closed. The voices are muffled, so she isn’t going to learn anything standing here. She sighs gently, crossing the room to accept the invitation.

Once she is seated next to Chris, she lays her head on his shoulder. He pats her arm in understanding. They used to be very good friends growing up. He was probably the Hackett who - back then - she had been closest to. Although, they had grown distant over the past year or so. And now she knew why.

Now they were all in this together, she recalls.

“How are you doing?” asked Chris.

She raises her head to look at him, halting the sarcasm at the tip of her tongue when she notices the genuine look of concern on his face, “Like something inside me is scratching to get out. You ever seen Alien?”

He winces, but she’s got no reason to sugar coat it. Chris has been dealing with this for much longer than she has after all, and if anything, he is the only one that she can talk to about this.

“Agitated?” Honestly, no. She hasn’t been feeling agitated, but Chris explains that’s what happens to him. Little things set him off, he says. And in general, he feels on edge a lot more now.

She wonders if the longer this goes on, she might end up like him. Her eyebrows knit, and she bites her lips together. Maybe she might find out. But then again maybe, if they do find Silas, she won’t need to worry.

Silence falls on the room; nobody really feels like talking. And she can tell that they’re all straining to hear what’s going on in the next room. Every time Travis talks it anchors her, even when she can’t tell what he’s saying – the sound of his voice makes her feel a little less afraid of her situation. **

Time passes; even if it feels so frozen that she isn’t sure how much time is gone by. The voices in the next room start rising. This happens a lot now. She turns as the volume continues to grow. Her eyes getting wider. She hates fighting.

She hates the emotion that is put behind every syllable.

She isn’t known for standing up for much, but she knows she cannot stand this. She runs for the door, but she finds herself blocked.

Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised by how fast Chris Hackett can be, given the creature lurking underneath his skin. But she is.

“Think about this,” he instructs her.

Travis is all that matters. He’s all she can think about. “They can’t just get away with saying that to him! I can’t let them just—!”

“Don’t.” And that word is more than just a warning.

She feels the tears stinging the back of her eyes as Chris subjects her to be a witness to this. Even if for her own good.

She cannot cry. After all, this isn’t all about her.

Glaring at Chris isn’t going to do anything either. It isn’t like her to do that, but for a few seconds that is what she finds herself doing. She feels like she hates him in this moment.

It must show on her face because he pulls his hand away from the door, and his body back from her’s in surprise.

She blinks a few times, shocked at herself, and walks away from the noise. Even on the other side of the door she can hear every word now. She is too anchored to his voice. To every attempt Travis makes to fight back against his own family. And it’s never been like her to want to fight.

Whatever is within her now wants to change that. Maybe with time, she’ll give into that temptation. But not today, and the feeling is mercifully fleeting. **

When the door finally opens, slowly, everything is quiet again. There is an atmosphere in the room that she cannot place her finger on. But that doesn’t matter. The look on his face matters.

Travis Hackett won’t even look at her. His eye line grazes the floor, and his frame looks smaller. She isn’t surprised.

“Let’s go,” he says in a defeated tone. But like he is still trying to hide it from her. It hasn’t worked very well. No one else says anything, and he turns away before she can.

Her heart hurts, and she has a fraction of a second to acknowledge Chris, and the kids, with a fleeting ‘goodbye’ before she rushes to catch up with him.

Backing-up a pace to keep her distance; Travis needs room to breathe – she can feel that. This house is suffocating him.

She follows him closely back to the car. She doesn’t reach out; it doesn’t feel like the right thing to do. It doesn’t look like what he wants.

She expects to split away from him as she goes for her car door, but he walks the same way instead. She keeps that respectful distance; always keeping her eyes on him. He’s carrying the weight of the world already but his family are always asking for more, and more, and more. She wants that tension to break. And the second it does…

Snapped from her thoughts by the sound of the car door opening, he turns to look at her. They lock eyes, and her’s quickly lower. She’s embarrassed, as if he can read her mind. She’s sure he wouldn’t like what she had to say.

Travis is silent when he holds out his hand to help her in. And she takes it delicately.

It doesn’t matter the situation, he never forgets to be a gentleman. They both look back toward the house.

She turns back to him; her fingers lacing with his. She doesn’t want to make her sympathy look like pity. However, she hopes that he understands all the same.

His head inclines, slightly defeated. I know… **

“I don’t want to stay at your parent’s tomorrow night.”

It’s the first thing she’s said to him since they left their home, breaking the steady hum of the engine as they drive back. It doesn’t feel like it should be. But she needs to say it. There is a sigh in response, but it sounds like it’s of relief.

Travis doesn’t leave the silence long: maybe he’s just glad to talk.

“Then, you won’t have to. We’ll,” he pauses, briefly, “figure something else out.”

She raises her head to the sky. The moon sitting ominously amongst the stars. He has less than 24 hours to do so.

She is surprised when he reaches for her hand this time. Like she isn’t the one who should be showing him affection right now.

“I’ve decided,” he says in a decisive tone.

“I’m not going hunting tomorrow. I’m going to stay with you.”

She looks across to him. She’s lost all her words again. But that doesn’t matter to him. Her face shows her gratitude, even if it is mixed with disbelief.

She wants to say something about the fight, but instead, she just squeezes his hand tighter.

Travis keeps his eyes on the road, but every time his gaze flicks over to her, the glance feels significant.

And she knows that she cannot take her eyes off of him. **

He pulls the car up in their driveway and sighs gently. Unfortunately, Travis still has a night shift to be getting on with. He can’t stay with her, but he wants to - especially tonight.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” he jests, trying his best to lighten the mood.

“Chris and the kids okay?”

She stares at him, and her eyes narrow slightly. Like he can just brush off whatever that was as if it was a ‘normal’ visit to see his family. She hopes that isn’t what he is resigning himself too.

“Fine. A little on edge. Like me, I guess,” she replies.

“Oh.”

She supposes that he wants something more from her, but she doesn’t know what else to tell him. This time, she places her hand gently over his.

“I guess it makes sense, with the moon. But we’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.”

Honesty she isn’t sure she believes that, but it is what he needs to hear. He’s already hurting, and she’s not going to hurt him more.

Travis walks her to the front door, her arms entwined around his. They walk slow. She knows that he doesn’t want to let her go. Although he knows that he has to. But for a few moments here, she can hope that he will shirk all of his responsibilities just this once, and stay here with her.

When they get to the porch, she quickly makes it up a step, but he doesn’t. And she knows the fantasy is over. But only for now. Afterall, hadn’t he just promised her that he would stay tomorrow night?

Travis takes her hands and turns her back to face him. They stand in silence for a few minutes. He knows he has to go as much as she does. But they’re both waiting for something. Although neither is sure exactly what. Is there even anything else to say? They both look at each other, and there is an understanding there. Travis takes a breath and, for a moment, looks a little lighter. Like the whole world isn’t on his shoulders. ‘He’s putting on a brave face for me,’ she thinks. And despite everything it makes her smile. It’s a sad smile though, and she suddenly feels overcome with emotion.

But she doesn’t want Travis to see her cry, so she rushes forward. Throwing her arms around him she buries her head in his shoulder. When he winds his arms around her, he is a lot calmer. His hands rub her back as he reciprocates. Placing his own head into the curve of her neck, Travis closes his eyes. He wants to get lost; he wants to revel in her. For a heartbeat, the world is just them. And nothing else matters.

Travis hates to be the one to break it. “I suppose I should get to the station,” he sighs. And although his words are said with purpose, and they puncture her with disappointment, he does not make the first move away from where he lies. With the way her fingers are digging into his shirt, he doesn’t think that she is about to let him leave either. She only relaxes her grip on Travis when she can feel him concede. What was a few more minutes, after all. Right now, Travis would take all he could get. He would lose her to this affliction once a month as it was. She can feel him letting go, as if he is melting into her. And surely neither of them would like anything more…

For a few moments, he can just let it out. He is protecting her, yes. But she wants nothing more than to protect him too.

Time has, once again, frozen. She isn’t sure how long they have been standing like this. She is only aware that her arms are getting cold. Travis unwinds himself from her, as if he can hear her thoughts. His brown eyes tender as he looks at her. She has to let him go – and his hands immediately rub her arms. “I’ll be back before you know it. Now go on, get inside. Get warm.” She nods, “Be safe.” He can’t promise that, but he does so any way - just for her. “You too,” he replies. She can’t promise that either. But she does, because he needs to hear it.

She waves him off from the top of the steps as he walks back to his patrol vehicle, and she doesn’t make a move to go inside until the lights are out of sight. She’ll wait up for him. To know he’s back and safe with her. And for a moment, they can pretend this isn’t all going to hell.

The monster within her stirs again, and she catches her breath. Maybe she shouldn’t be scared of this feeling. Maybe she should chase it. Maybe it won’t be a curse for her. Maybe it will help her.

She looks back out to the road he disappeared on, and she can feel the corners of her mouth lift in a confident smile.

Only time will tell.

--- She thought she knew a thing or two about Fantasy. She’s a writer, after all. But there’s a difference between writing something insane, and living something insane.

Moving back to help her sister run her parents’ motel wasn’t meant to lead to this. It was supposed to be simple; the most complicated thing was supposed to be the boy she had a high school crush on all grown up… and still single.

Not werewolves. And certainly not becoming one.

Caught between both their families and her affliction; just how many full moons can this relationship last.

--- Cause I don't wanna kiss anybody else's lips I don't wanna feel anybody else's touch I just wanna be the old you and me We'd be married, have a house and kids by this time In another life

In another life I would get to kiss you goodnight Hold your hand, play with your hair, feel your arms around me Giving me the best hug Yeah, we'd be so in love

In another life

I wouldn't have to kiss anybody else's lips I wouldn't have to feel anybody else's touch We could just be the old you and me We'd be married, have a house and kids by this time And you'd be here tonight In another life

---

Nothing new. That was how you would describe the day. Sitting in your office working through the papers of every Marine coming in and out of your ward; you weren’t sure you knew what busy was anymore. It seemed to be the same all the time - with very little variation in the amount of work you had to do day-to-day - sometimes you just had to work on them faster. With more and more to do for the Marines on the front lines, and with seemingly every other person declaring themselves to be a 'Pirate' these days, at least things were never dull - that you could count on. Today, another ship arrived, apparently with a lot of injured Marines on board, given how many new papers you had stacked up on your desk. You sat back in your chair and blew out a breath. You were glad at least none of these new patients appeared to be in any serious condition. The most interesting thing to you was the newly docked ship's designation: HQ 3. You regarded the papers again, and began to rifle through them slowly. He hasn’t said anything, you thought. Figures. There could be a reason for that, of course… he could be in here. You dared not go through them too quickly to find out. These days he had no reason to tell you, either.

Marking another case as not urgent, you became aware of a sudden clamouring outside your office. Back and forth yelling that sounded more like panic. So much for hiding away... Pushing yourself up from your desk, you opened the door and leaned against the frame, poking your head out into the corridor. Several nurses and doctors were running between rooms, each and every one worked for you now. Which meant that when you called out to them, they stood to attention. "What's going on out here!?" "Nothing we can't handle." "Oh, I have no doubt - is everything okay?" "Some of the new inpatients have a flair for the dramatic is all M'am!" You chuckled, folding your arms, and touched your head to the doorframe too. "Sounds right. Maybe we should give them something to be dramatic about!" You cracked a grin. "If sedative is necessary, get that going - but nothing appears serious. I don't want anyone else on the ward panicking or getting distressed though. Try to get them to keep it down." You winked. "Else I’ll be forced to tell them to, and I'm pretty sure they won't want that."

The small group who had paused to listen to you nodded along, before almost shying away from you, and retreating into the rooms they had come from. You were about to ask why – unless they were scared you were about to force something more upon them yourself – before your question was answered for you. "Oh, I don't know about that." You couldn't have stopped the smile spreading across your face if you'd tried. Not at the sound of that voice. You turned your head to him slowly. HQ 3 meant Garp, and the Vice Admiral brought with him his right-hand man, who was now staring back at you with something of a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

Bogard was leaning against the wall right outside your door, letting it support his full weight, right arm held across his body, left hand raised to his chin. If you'd have bet on that stance, you might have won. He had a nasty habit of just appearing like this, but you would never be one to complain about that.   You let your eyes linger on him as you drew them up and down his body. You could pretend it was for your deduction, but you both knew better. "What are you doing here? You don’t look injured to me.” His dark eyes swept the ward, which now hosted a group of Marines from the ship he sailed on. “Where he goes, I follow.” He started. “And, if I leave the ship here, I get to see you. So, it’s not all bad. Guess we’ll be staying while we stock back up, do repairs,” he paused briefly. “The usual.” You bit back the words you really wanted to say. "Doesn't sound so bad. Guess you'll be wanting the recent discharge list?" "You read my mind." "I know you!" You let that statement linger before adding, "all business. Let me get you that list."

You withdrew back into your office, gathering the papers of cleared Marines now waiting to be assigned back onto any ships that were currently docked who were in need of recruits. Much to your surprise you found your hands were shaking. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves; maybe you were more excited about this encounter than you anticipated. To say your relationship with the man standing outside your door was complicated would be an understatement. Something along the lines of a long distance, long term situationship might sum it up best - but they were just a few words that meant nothing to the history of it.

You had been a cadet when you'd first met him. He was a few years older than you. Back when Bogard was just finding himself in the Marine's. It was obvious to you then how fast he was going to climb the ranks. You'd been friends since day one - well, almost. Once you'd graduated your cadet training and had chosen to be stationed as part of the medical division, you began to realise just how injury prone and stubborn he was. At least that was the way he always presented himself to you. The number of times early on you'd found yourself patching up his gashes and wounds with him insisting they were just scratches were innumerable. You found yourself very quickly worried about him in ways that went beyond mere friendship. And the next time he'd done it had been your final straw. You couldn't recall your confession exactly, but you did remember that it came out in the middle of a heated ramble. You had been in tears – you were mad at him for getting hurt, and you were crying because you didn’t want to lose him. Fixing him up that time quickly led to a first kiss, and soon after a relationship. But it didn’t last.

Although he would never tell the story that way, the truth was at that point Bogard had been just dumb enough to make sure he always got an injury, so he had an excuse to stop by and see you, but smart enough to make sure he was never in any real danger. He had mellowed out a lot since then - he was so much more serious and careful now - especially with the responsibilities he had. Man, the more you thought about it, the more you realised just how much time had passed... You carried just as many responsibilities yourself now, but could you say that you didn't still worry about him? No - but he was always so far away that you couldn't allow yourself to dwell on it too much. The 'see you when I see you' was fine if he was going to turn up at your door looking as pristine as he did today. Bogard knew what he was doing - he wouldn't be Garp's second in command if he didn't. You trusted that you had no reason to worry about him. Not even on the Grand Line. If he did ever come back injured - you didn't want to think too much about it - you knew you'd go above and beyond. If anyone had ever been curious about what you were, then that scenario would probably hold all the answers. Though while that wasn't happening, it was fine as a mystery.

He hadn't moved an inch when you returned with the stack. "Here you are, unless I should be giving these to the Vice Admiral?" Bogard took the papers in a way that suggested which was wisest; to him. You held your hands up to indicate that was well noted. "Just let me know who stays and who goes so I can update my records." He flipped through them quickly. "Of course. I suppose it will depend on how many we want that aren't cadets." "Cadets? I mean there might be some fresh faces there, but they will come with a little experience." "Might need that where we're going." This time it was his right hand held to his chin as he moved to answering your question quickly. "Yes, cadets. We're training them." "You're training cadets?" You could see it, actually. He'd be good at that - tough but fair. His captain too. "Lucky cadets." Bogard placed the papers in his pocket. His expression seemed to suggest that might not be the phrase he'd use. He looked up and passed you, studying the corridor and listening to the activity you'd just set in motion, before turning his attention fully back to you. "The whole ward, huh?" "It'll be the whole medical centre soon." "So I hear. Never in doubt when it comes to you." You looked away bashfully - voice quiet. "Thank you." "Still, you could be out on a ship as the main doctor. A HQ ship even. You're plenty good enough." You made a noise, but didn't want to look like you were laughing at his suggestion. "Despite being a Marine, I still prefer dry land. I'm comfortable here. I enjoy my work! I’m even about to be promoted. Where do you go once you're a ship doctor for a HQ vessel?" "It would be worth it for all the places you would see,” he continued. “The prestige." You knew where this was headed, and turned it back on him as quickly as you could. "And you, what about when they call you to World Government bureaucracy and pen-pushing, and you spend more time in a building than you do on the open ocean?" You asked. Bogard made a face like he was considering it, but you knew he wasn't. “Right now, I would probably decline such a position.” he huffed. “I think I have much to learn before I go there." “Uh huh." You knew that, how could you not? Just like he knew you didn't want to be out at sea. No matter how many times he would try to persuade you out there every time he saw you.

That was the point you had known it wouldn't work out. You wanted him safe with you, whereas he wanted you to go travelling the world with him. Neither would comprise. And so, every time you met, you would dance around this question again. Asking without saying 'why aren't we together, really?' in a different way every time. The reality was you'd both chosen your preferred lifestyles and your work over each other. But you weren’t about to admit that out loud, and Bogard wasn't either. So, here you stayed.

To make sure this didn't get too heavy immediately, you cleared your throat and changed the subject. "I heard you were in the East Blue?" He gave a short nod, but instead of offering any more information, he hit back with a rumour of his own. You couldn't say you was surprised that he would keep his official work a secret - such the man he was these days. You knew you'd get it out of him eventually. Though it might take something a little less... professional... "I heard you were with some captain." Try as he might to hide it, Bogard let his emotion seep into his voice. It was obvious who and what he was referring to, and he wasn't happy about it. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from teasing him about being jealous - that wouldn't end well. And what with where you were right now, you had to be very careful what you let slip, just in case of any prying eyes and ears. And you also knew that Bogard knew he had no right to be jealous - regardless of the truth. Still, this was one thing you wouldn’t tease him about. Reassurance was the only way forward. "Rumours fly.” You dismissed. “That was never a thing." Which was true, after all, you still only had eyes for the man in front of you. Despite the fact that there had never been a conversation about it between you. You could date someone else. You just weren’t sure if Bogard believed you, especially as you didn't know how long he had been holding onto that knowledge for. You knew how much he valued the truth though, so lying would have been unwise at best. “I’d never do that.” you continued. To you, you thought. But you left that part off. You were met with the same steady look he'd been regarding you with throughout this whole conversation so far. You sighed, glancing behind you back down the ward - all seemed calm right now. They knew how to reach you if they needed your help. Turning back to him, you offered a gentle smile. "Care to take a walk with me?" He pushed himself away from the wall with a smile. Turning across, he offered you his arm - ever the gentleman. You smiled back sweetly, wrapping yourself around him, and allowing yourself a moment to admit in your mind just how much you'd missed him.

For a while there was silence, but it was comfortable and more relaxed. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to stray very far. It'd be more like a walk around the block, but it was still away from unwanted attention. He watched you closely. You carried yourself and your rank well. You coped with the pressure of it all. You could handle yourself. You just wouldn't answer the call to open ocean. It seemed strange to him, but he admired how sure of yourself, and your convictions you were. He would not change your mind, no matter how much he wanted to. Still, there was something about the rumour that was bothering him. It wasn't that Bogard thought you were lying - of course you wouldn't. You knew how much he disapproved of it. It was the subject of the rumour that hurt Bogard most. Of all the people that rumours could fly about with you, not him, but someone else? Someone who must have seen you far less than Bogard did… at least he would hope so. People were aware you had been something once. Was it so hard to believe that you might be making it work again? Bogard put in the work even when he was so far away. There were more than enough reasons to conclude that he was still with you. In many ways, he wanted to be asked. Even if he went against his principles and denied it. Though, given you weren't technically a couple, it wasn’t technically lying. He hated how much it caused him to wonder if you had ever been with anyone else ever since you broke up. If Bogard couldn't even get a rumour going, but someone else could? It bothered him that he could get wrapped up in such a way. You weren’t his. But the exclusivity was an unwritten rule. It was expected that you would always be able to return to each other like this. That didn't mean if either of you fell in love with someone else… Surely you had both expected the other to have moved on by now. You both should have moved on by now! It hadn’t been months after all; it hadn’t even been a few years. It was closer to decades, and here you both were. Bogard just didn't want to hear it being discussed. He wasn't sure what heartbreak would feel like; but he didn't want to know either way. And he hated even more that, after all this time, if he lost you for good, he knew his heart would break.

The silence from him wasn't something that you thought was particularly unusual - Bogard was notoriously a man of very few words.  Though you often wondered what ran through that head of his; but someone had to keep Garp in check, so you knew his mind was sharp at least. They seemed like complete opposites - which, you thought, made them perfect for each other. Walking with him this close around the medical centre was enough for you right now. It was nice getting used to his presence again. Even if you knew you'd have to let him go soon. And too soon at that. Glancing over to him, you recognised Bogard’s look was a little further away than you had expected. Realising that you wanted those gorgeous brown eyes back on you, you broke the silence. If he was in his head about this stupid rumour - which you wouldn't be surprised if the Marine Captain had started and stoked himself - then you knew what he needed to hear. And if he felt the truth was so important, he was about to get some. "I have to say, I'm not entirely sure why you're so worried about that rumour. It's me who should be thinking about things like that. Why, I bet you have a girl in every port!" It was clearly a joke, but his look was a little too sharp - Bogard clearly took offence to the idea he was worried. Even if he was. Luckily, his expression quickly softened. "Guy on every ship." He quipped back. You gasped, ready to take full offence to that. "That's way worse than the rumour! Stop it! What do you take me for!? At least mine could happen!" You weren’t stupid - he was a good-looking man. Loyal, dedicated; an old-fashioned romantic. Work-driven sure, but you'd seen other women fall for him. All it would take was for him to find one who he could fall for too, who would share in his dream and actually want to travel the world on a ship with him as a Marine. It scared you a little how easy it was for you to imagine that he could be in a very happy relationship right now. Bogard raised an eyebrow. Surely you didn't believe that, he thought. And if you did, how wrong you were. Surely the ridiculousness of his own statement only highlighted the ludicrousness of your own? How untrue it was? For you though, it was clear you had a point. Besides, what did he have to be worried about? Who would you date anyway? It wasn't like you were about to pick up a guy at a bar or something. "Nearly all the men I see around here are either sick or injured." You protested. He shrugged, and when he doubled down, you were glad you could hear the jokey tone to his voice. "All the more time to get to know them then." "Please." You scoffed, pushing his arm a little. "Besides, you're the only one writing to me, and making me origami, so..." He stopped so abruptly, but you were ready for that. Halting to measure his reaction. He looked across to you curiously. You never wrote him back; he didn't expect you to. Bogard smiled - for once a little wider than usual. Possibly more of a smirk. "Like those, do you?" He teased. You allowed yourself to blush under the weight of his look. The bolstered confidence in him at your words, and then your admittance. "Maybe a little too much."

Despite the jokes you made, it was barely covering up what you really meant - bringing to light exactly what you were both most worried about. And the ego-boosting rush of hearing that it wasn't true. The real truth was no matter how nonchalantly either of you said goodbye - see you later - neither of you wanted to see the other with someone else. Neither of you would like it very much. The difference was you were quite prepared for the possibility of that eventuality. Bogard was not.

Once you had made the full circle and wandered back to your office, you resumed much the same positions as you had before. Although closer and more comfortable this time. Once the ice had thawed a little, you were now acting more as friends. (As if that was all you were.) Where you could get him to smile a little, and if you were very, very, very lucky, you might even get a huffed laugh out of him. Although he did have one last piece of official business to pass by you. He pulled some rolled-up papers out of his Marine coat. "You asked about the East Blue before." He started. "I did." You straightened your relaxed posture a little. Assuming you wouldn't have to do any work to get a candid answer this time. "We were there chasing around a new upstart young group of Pirates." He continued. "Another group?!" You very nearly rolled your eyes; you’d lost count of the crews popping up all over the place over the years. HQ 3 seemed a little overkill, though. "You guys? Really?!" Bogard shook his head. "Understandable reaction. But this crew has potential." He held the roll out to you. "May I request you put these up around the wards?" You looked from the roll to him and back and took it gently. "These upstarts already have bounties?" You asked. "Their captain does." He replied. You continued to stare at him questioningly, but when all he did was stare back, you knew the answer was on the paper itself. You unravelled them and almost let out a laugh.

'Monkey D. Luffy' - the name explained everything. You looked back at Bogard with an amused expression and raised eyebrow. Bogard merely shook his head, expression in understanding of your reaction. 'Let's not go there!' "Sure. I'll put these ones up! That's quite the bounty for the East Blue though! Who'd he piss off!?" You walked back into your office to put it with your unfinished pile of admission checks. This time Bogard followed you, standing in the doorway. "Nezumi.” He replied. “Oh, that weirdo? With the rat face?” You circled your head with your finger. “Rat would certainly be one way to put it.” You couldn’t help your perhaps overly loud reaction. “Oooh! Ooooh. Ooh! Would you like me to tell him that next time I see him?” Bogard placed his hands either side of your door frame, leaning in a little.  ‘Oh yeah you would badmouth me like that!,’ he thought - instant reaction - mouth opening before he changed his mind. Returning to a more relaxed lean, and crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t waste my breath.” You whistled. “Damn! You got a mouth on you.” Sharp as the blade he carried - when he wanted to be. But perhaps also a sign of how close you were, that he would speak as freely as this. Instead of responding, he opted to watch you with his eyes narrowed. You chuckled. “No, I know you. I know that you don’t waste your words.” Pausing for thought, you placed the papers down slowly. Raising your eyes to the window, you mused. “I guess I feel honoured that you share so many of them with me.” “Writing letters is completely different.” He replied. You looked across to him; voice sweet, and smile gentle. “That’s not what I meant.” Bogard bit his lips together, unsure of a comeback. Instead he wound the conversation back, nodding to the poster you just placed down. “Highest bounty on the East Blue now, actually. Doubt he'll stay there though." He said. "Ah. Grand Line bound!" You replied inquisitively. For a while the whimsy of it all had you smiling, until your smile dropped in realisation. If HQ 3 had been chasing them around the East Blue? You looked back to him slowly. Was Bogard going to follow them around the Grand Line? How long would that take? How long would it be until you saw him again? Even he knew he didn't have the answer to that. As he'd stated - where Garp went, he did. No questions asked. Still, Bogard couldn't leave it like that. He felt compelled to reassure you. "Of course, we might not follow them. We had investigations going on before they arrived on the scene." You remembered. "What now then? You really think you'll be back to 'Baroque Works'?" "We were heading that way anyway. I don't see why that would change now." He shrugged. "Doubtless you'll find out when I write to you!" You chuckled, running your fingertips over the picture in the wanted poster. A new kid on the block in a straw hat? Generations had seen this before.

Silence fell for a moment, which allowed him time to look around your office. Then he really couldn't help but smile. Lined up along the window frame, and just about every spare space on your shelves were collections of intricate origami. Bogard had sent you every single one of them. His preference was birds of different shapes, sizes, and colours. But they were all there. Every letter he had sent you came with one, and he'd sent you a letter every time he felt he had something worth saying. Writing back wasn't the point of it. He could guarantee that no one else knew where these came from. Whether you made them or they just appeared. But they weren't there for anyone else to know about - they were there for you. And every time Bogard saw them he wondered how the hell he could ever let himself get worried about any feelings you might have for anyone else. He looked back to you - having finished studying the picture of Luffy, you were now watching him - and Bogard knew he'd been caught with a rare smile on his face. He let it bleed into his words. "You kept them all." It wasn't a question, and his heart swelled. You giggled, pulling a box draw out from the top of your desk. "Honey, you have no idea!" From within it spilled forth letters upon letters, all wrapped up in Marine paper and blue ribbon. You had kept every single one of them too.

It was a little later in the day, as you were finishing up another round of administering medication, when you returned to your office and found that another Marine had made himself comfortable there. And not the one you would have expected. "V-Vice Admiral!" You stood to attention as he rose from your chair, "Sir! How can I help you?" "At ease, please!" His smile was warm, "In fact it's me that I think can help you!" He held out the stack of papers you'd given Bogard earlier. "I trust my second in command’s judgement on these." You took them gratefully. "Of course. I'll make sure everyone is prepped and ready to cast off when you're ready to set sail, Sir." "Better make it sooner rather than later, Lieutenant.” Garp placed his hands in his pockets, expression serious. "I don't want to be hanging around for too long. We have much to get started on." "Oh- I see." You knew you was failing at hiding your look of disappointment. Letting go was never easy, but if you had to do it sooner than you expected? You'd only just got Bogard back - you weren’t ready to let him go again just yet. Garp could see it on your face. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen Bogard interact with you before. They'd stopped off here plenty of times. He'd just never pried into the private life of his second in command before. But something was clearly going on this time. If he hadn't thought so before. He indicated to the origami on your shelves. "I always wondered where these went. Clearly, Y/N, they all come to you!" Your eyes widened. You didn't even know anyone else knew Bogard made them. "Y-yes, when he writes he always sends..." You gestured to the shelves, wondering if you'd said too much. Did Garp know that he... wrote to you? "Would have thought writing was his preferred method of communication. I know he’s a man that’s concise at best.” he continued. “Though he never seems to have that problem around you. Which is something in itself." You knew you was blushing by now, and you couldn't quite meet the Vice Admiral’s eyes. What he was saying was by no means untrue. "He's not always been like that." You were lying and you knew it. But you had to say something. You had no idea what Garp did or didn't know, or what Bogard would even want his superior to know! "Mhm." You weren’t sure that response was convincing enough. "Can't help but wonder exactly what's going on between you two." he enquired. Dammit! You were definitely turning redder now. "He-" You paused. Then took a deep breath, locking eyes with Garp this time. "We were once a couple, yes. But, we went our separate ways due to our own work preferences." You gave a shrug, realising how sad you suddenly felt as you smiled. "He wouldn't stay. I wouldn't go." "...Shame." Garp nodded. "From what I’ve heard, you have enormous potential. Definitely something we could use out there." You bowed deeply. "Those are kind words, Sir. Thank you. But it was never what I wanted. The front line isn't for me, and I would be outright useless in a fight. I'm no field medic." "We could change that." He interjected. You laughed. "I hear you're training cadets?" You weren’t sure you wanted to go back to that, weren’t sure how you would act being trained by them, honestly. "With all due respect Sir, many have tried and at this point I think I'm fine being a competent medic, and a pathetic fighter. I barely scraped through weapons training, and I decided that I would never want to handle one again! At least not by choice." "Competent would not be the word I'd use." He took a few steps forward, causing you to stiffen your posture. "Brilliant, maybe." He tilted his head. "Funny you should say that and be going off with a swordsman." You gaped for a minute. "We-Well I--" You tried to compose yourself. "That was always Bogard's thing." Your laugh was nervous. "Though I admit I can't help but be fascinated. I notice that people are intimidated by him without him even having to draw. So, once he does?" It was hot. It made you feel a little something something, and you'd never really seen him in action in a real fight.

Though of course you were not about to mention this to Garp.

"Well, there's always room on my ship. If you want this to be something more.” He paused for a brief second. “Intimate again." Garp's stare was intense. "I do hope you'll consider it, Y/N." You swallowed hard. Intimate? As if you weren't still--- "A HQ ship would be an incredible honour, Sir. I…” you paused. “Surely will consider it." "Glad to hear it." he replied enthusiastically. Garp swept past you, but stopped at the door. "I have no doubt you'll have the Marine's prepped and ready for our departure. I do suggest if you want to spend any more time with my second, you get as much of it in as possible." Even if you couldn't see him, you could hear the amusement and smirk in his voice. "Should I send him back up to your office, Y/N?" You opened your mouth, but found you couldn't answer before he walked away laughing.

Next thing you knew you was back in the arms of your situationship - under the sheets.

***

Despite what Bogard and Garp had said, it was nice for them to stick around for a little while. It reminded you that you shouldn’t get your hopes up that it would be permanent. But it gave you a taste you couldn’t help but crave. He really was all yours here. And you could pretend you were somewhere in the past, thinking about this as your far-off future. One where neither of you had ever put anything above the other. Breaks were rare when you had work to do, but right now, you also couldn’t afford to spend any free time anywhere else.

Bogard was sitting on the steps to the medical wing when you found him. Hunched over what could only have been a lighter, given the small smoke trail.

You sighed gently, folding your arms and shaking your head. Taking the steps slowly towards him - it wasn’t like you were about to sneak up on the swordsman, he knew your footfall well enough by now - it still didn’t cause him to extinguish his smoke. You stopped on the step above the one he was sitting on. Two heavy steps down, to let him know you were less than impressed, hands moving to your pockets as you bent slightly over him - feeling all at once like a doctor scolding your patient. (Well, it wasn’t like you hadn’t already had the opportunity to check his full physical health at this point.) “You know those aren’t good for your health, right?” You started. As if to mock you, he took a long deliberate drag. “Trust me, if you were on my ship, you would need these to relax too.” He replied. You narrowed your eyes. “Oh no, Mister. No using your captain as an excuse!” “He’s a damn good one.” He protested. Another drag, before he removed it from his lips, but he didn’t put it out. You leaned yourself a little closer to him, lowering your voice – positively saccharine. “Don’t worry, you can order me around!” Bogard raised a hand to his mouth slowly, and coughed. You waited with a smirk on your face for him to take the bait. “Don’t tempt me.” Bogard gave his voice the appropriate stern edge. You had the cheekiest little grin on your face, and hummed like you were a little too happy with yourself for that one. He gave you enough time to bask in it, before looking back to his smoke. “You’re going to ask me to stop, right?” You folded your arms, sighing. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record. You know my spiel by now.” Bogard gave a single nod of agreement. “You’ve never quite got me to quit yet. I think by now you’d know it wasn’t going to happen.” His eyeline had remained level until that moment, but he looked up at you now. “How’s work?” He asked. “Nothing changes…” You shrugged. “But I do have five minutes.” You took the next step down and sank to sit with him. Bogard’s smile was gentle, no matter how obvious it was that you would choose to spend your precious free time with him when he was around, it didn’t make it any less significant of an act.  “Smoke?” He held it out to you. “Ha!” You liked that he smiled at your sarcasm though, his eyes back on whatever he was watching before. “What are you-?” Bogard nodded forward, then pointed, you followed his fingertip down to the beach. Upon it were Garp, and two marines whom he looked like he was giving a stern talking to. “Oh! Your cadets?” “Mhm.” “And you’re up here because?” He scoffed. “Please, you think they’re ready to take me on yet?” You almost rolled your eyes as he took another drag, making sure to blow the smoke away from you. “I can take on both of them using only my less dominant hand. It’d be hardly worth their time either. What does it teach them? Something they aren’t ready for?” You couldn’t help the smirk that toyed with your lips. “Do you have one of those?” “One of what?” He enquired. “A less dominant hand?” You teased. You couldn’t look at him, because you knew you’d crack - but you knew the kind of stare he was giving you, before he jogged your shoulder. “Stop.” You couldn’t help the quick burst of laughter you let escape.

You continued to watch the two young men train with Garp for a while. And eventually you let yourself unwind enough to lean up against his shoulder. It was funny how much more you felt his body sink into relaxation below yours after that. And he put his smoke out too. He was content to sit with you like this. Yes. This was exactly what you dreamed of. Even if you couldn’t say you missed Bogard often (you were far too busy working here to do much of anything!), at least you didn’t let yourself and your thoughts linger on that feeling for too long. This physical contact was exactly what you needed. His letters could cover almost everything else, letting you know he was okay and that you didn’t have to worry. It was exactly what made this work without it having to be a relationship. But they couldn’t hold you. They couldn’t replace his touch. Your eyes lowered to his hands. It was weird for you to think just what they were capable of. He could be so gentle, but his swordsmanship? Just how many lives had Bogard taken with the exact same hands that held you the way he did? You sank your teeth into your lip as you frowned. You could think these things all you liked. Right now you just wanted to hold them - that’s what you knew for sure.

Bogard regarded your body language. Even when you weren’t looking at him, he knew what you desired. It didn’t matter how damn long you had been away from each other. At this point, it was simply muscle memory. You could both say whatever you wanted. Sometimes he wondered if being “single” really was the easiest option for you. It sure sounded like it. But he knew how it complicated things. How it twisted your feelings. Maybe you couldn’t make it work together. But you couldn’t make it work without each other either. Bogard knew you were thinking about how this could be your life. How could you not be? He was thinking it too – and by now he knew you better than you knew yourself.

He moved his hand from his knee, extending it towards yours - palm up - still watching your reaction. You hesitated; too shy to look at him now. Bogard knew, of course he knew. At this point he might as well have been a mind reader. Your movements were slow and deliberate. You took his hand gingerly; lacing your fingers together. Before moving your other to fit his hand between yours. He watched you do this with a smile, before pulling your hands gently back into his lap. You made a small noise before burying your face in his shoulder; surely blushing now. He focused back on the beach, running his thumb over the back of your hand. Yes - this was worth coming back for. Even if accepting the way you otherwise lived meant he sacrificed this to miss you the rest of the time. And if neither of you would move to give that up, you always would.

*** Seeing him off came all too quick. His return seemed but a fleeting moment - a heartbeat, and you were having to let him go again. The thing that stopped you from letting this be anything more than it was. But you were kidding yourself. You were in a relationship. The code; the unwritten rule, the exclusivity of it. There'd never been anyone else. Neither of you were calling it that, though. Neither of you referred to each other as ‘Partners', or ever enquired if it would be like that again. Everything but in name. Yet you would continue to tell yourself this was for the best - and that you wouldn't hurt for a little while as he sailed off into the distance.

Everyone around you on the dock was moving fast, getting final-final preparations done before they set sail. For the two of you, time was virtually standing still. Your hands were in his, and right now all you wanted was for them to stay there as long as possible. As tradition stated, you both had one more try in you - one more line of persuasion before the same conclusion would be reached, and you went your separate ways once again. Bogard leaned into you. That small near smile on his lips that reflected so much more brilliantly in his eyes. And in that moment the light was hitting them just right; illuminating that brown colour in a million beautiful shades. His voice was soft and sweet - as if this time he was really pulling out all the stops. "You should come with us.” he said. “We could always use a doctor." You chuckled, shaking your head. But you were grinning. You couldn't help but smile brilliantly at the way he was making you feel. Of course he was still trying to get you to go with him, despite already knowing your answer. You had to admire that spirit – every single time. "My place is here." You said firmly. You bit your tongue between your teeth cheekily for a moment, before teasing back with. "You could always stay." It was Bogard's turn to chuckle. "You know I can't do that." Your head tilted. 'Exactly'.

But he kept leaning, and you weren’t about to stop him. Now might have been the time to be professional. But it was also the exact time to be unprofessional. You pushed yourself up to meet him in a goodbye kiss. Both of you probably expected it to be short and sweet, but then again neither of you were pulling away - content to stay in it. You couldn't take it anymore, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He reciprocated, hands on your waist pulling you into his arms. At some point someone whistled. You felt him laugh, but he didn't pull back – Bogard just kept kissing you. Not even with the thought in his head that he was doing this in public. A little harder, edge a little more possessive of you. There was something in this kiss meant to completely destroy the idea that there was, or ever would be, anyone else, ever. Even when you were merely joking about it, even when he was too. You surrendered to it, and to him, completely.

Back on the ship, Helmeppo has spotted what was happening on the docks below. And if he was surprised by the kiss in the first place, the fact that it was going on - the stoic second in command swordsman that Bogard was? The guy who wore a perpetual frown most of the time! This wasn't happening - in fact it was beyond being seen to be believed! It was a ‘pinch me I must be dreaming’ moment. He smacked Coby - who was only oblivious because he was working - perhaps a little too hard. But he didn't care, and threw his other hand just to check that he wasn't the only one seeing this! The smaller cadet also couldn't help but stop and stare, almost gaping.

Garp watched the scene with a shake of his head, and a laugh. Sometimes it was good to be right!

Eventually you both had to pull back, if for nothing but a need to breathe. But you kept close. Your fingers gripped his Marine coat tight as you held him close to you. His head dipped to yours. Bogard kept his arms wrapped around you. You closed your eyes and tried your best to hold back your tears. "Stay safe." You whispered, emotion flooding your voice. "I don’t want to see you back here anything less than immaculate.” “Stay safe too." His voice was equally emotional, strained against the proper tone he was trying to emulate. "Don’t take any shit.” You pulled slightly back from him, laughing. “You come back to me.” "You know where we're going. I can't make any promises. But…" He relinquished your warmth none too fast, reassuring you. "I always do."

You stood for a moment like that, unsure where to go from here. You couldn't help it, pulling him back for one more kiss goodbye - and much shorter, to your own dismay. Before drawing your hands to the centre of his chest, fussing with his Marine coat for a second, and making certain to pull it straight, ensuring that the emblem presented itself dead centre. If you were going to tell him to be immaculate when he returned, you damn well weren’t sending him away if he was anything less! "You tell those other girls..." You laughed, unable to finish the joke. "Tell them what?" "They c- can't have—y-!” You kept laughing through it. “I can't even finish that thought." You grinned, putting it another way instead. "You're mine." He shook his head at you. "Always was." Before bowing low, "Until next time, Y/N." Bogard left you with a smile, and with that, began walking a few feet to the ship’s gangplank. You called after him, "I'm already looking forward to that letter!" He nearly laughed.

Upon boarding, Helmeppo and Coby still hadn't got over the scene. Staring at him almost in awe - definitely with a million questions for the man helping to train them. It took just one look, a single stare to swear both of them to eternal silence. Maybe they would get their answers one day. Maybe he would want to talk about it. Right now, Bogard wasn't sure. He did know he considered it private, no matter how passionate and public his goodbye was to you.

You stood back, listened to him shouting commands to get the ship running with a smile on your face. Just like that he was in his element again. He was working now. He was the second in command to a Vice Admiral. 'That's my man.' For a moment, you wondered if you should have asked. You’d still never had a concrete conversation around being officially together again. You supposed it was as unsaid as the exclusivity. The illusion that you would both still be single; until the time you met again. But what was more official than 'Always was.'?

Whatever you were, you were content.

As the ship pushed away from the dock, Bogard appeared at the starboard side railing, offering a hand up gesture as a wave goodbye. You waved back enthusiastically. Glad to see him one last time before he sailed into the sunset. And here you would be the next time he was able to visit you. Because you would wait for him. And maybe one day, you’d give in to him. Or he would settle down with you.

Whoever’s will won out in the end, right now you knew one thing for sure. You didn't care if it meant you were together.

---

Two swordsmen down one to go! 🖤💚💛

---

By the time we get there Everybody will be drunk The chairs will be on tables And the band will be unplugged We're gonna look real good But we're gonna look real rude I'm sorry I'm not sorry that I'm Late to the party with you Let's promise when we get in That we'll try to get right out Fake a couple conversations Make the necessary rounds These kinda things just turn into Who's leaving here with who? But I just want 'em all to see me come in...

Late to the party with you Oh, who needs confetti? We're already falling into the groove And who needs a crowd When you're happy at a party for two? The world can wait 'Cause I'm never late to the party If I'm late to the party with you

---

Nothing was right. Every outfit you tried just ended up with a sighed 'No.', before being thrown in the corner. Everything else was done – hair and makeup went perfect; you were maybe even quick with those. But this... This was taking the time. Sure, you probably could throw on any old thing and get away with it - this wasn't some fancy dinner, or anything you had to look good for. Just a port with a party. But that was the point - it was a party. It was a chance to be sociable, dress up for a change. It was your thing. And you were late.

Snapping you from your thoughts with a jump, was a loud pounding on the door behind you. It was almost accompanied by a shriek, but luckily you saved yourself the embarrassment of that. Whipping around, you could feel your heart beating a million miles an hour - you didn't realise any of the crew were still here.

"Y/N! What the hell is taking you so long!?" Your eyes widened to the voice; now you were doubly glad you hadn't screamed. Opening the door ajar, you poked your head out and were faced with the unimpressed look of the crew’s resident green-haired swordsman. On second thought that was just his natural expression. You opened the door a little wider, halfway between asking a question and looking around to answer it yourself - was everyone else still here? Evidently, he wasn't done ridiculing you; "What the hell!? You're not even changed!? Even I got changed!" Your eyes focused back on him... Well, he wasn't wrong. He had changed his shirt. You indicated to the pile of clothes strewn on the floor, "Well I didn't know what to wear!" Now you were talking to Zoro, you might as well ask; "Wait, is everyone still here!?" His hands went to his pockets as he shuffled a little on his feet, eyes moving from yours, "No, but I said I wasn't leaving without you, now hurry up!" "…Hurry up!?" You folded your arms, eyes narrowed. You'd known him long enough to be able to read him pretty well, "Zoro, I bet you don’t even want to go!" He copied your crossed arm stance, "Maybe it's not my scene but if it’s a party, there’s alcohol." You couldn't help but roll your eyes, 'good lord.' Resisting shaking your head you turned your full attention back to him, glancing head to toe; "You’re going with your swords? Really?" Zoro was as defensive as you expected, "You never know what’ll happen." That seemed typically him. "Well…" You turned back to your clothes with a smile, finally deciding on something that would complement what he was wearing, "you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t take mine." "Annnnnd that’s why I’m the better swordsman." You glanced back over your shoulder to shoot him a look. Despite how nonchalantly he'd declared it, the tiny smirk on his face said everything. “I am but a humble student, you’re supposed to be better than me.” He laughed, short, more like a bark; “Humble is the word you’d use, huh!? Interesting…” You turned your body fully back to him, hands on your hips. "Why would you even think I would debate-" You cut yourself short, realising that somehow Zoro was managing to stall time even more. So much for hurrying you up. "HEY! Will you get out of here and let me change!"

Sensing he was clearly enthusiastic; you gave him 15 more minutes before you headed back out on deck. He was standing with his hands in his pockets again, ankles crossed over each other as he leaned back on the railing. Glancing you up and down he gave a single simple nod. This was Zoro, so that was a complement and you would take it. There was silence between you for a moment, but the sound of a party was in the air. It was loud, it sounded busy. Exactly the kind of thing you liked. Exactly the reason it had taken you so long to get ready in the first place. And he knew that. The man in front of you however…

Zoro walked forward a couple of steps, slowly, looking around as if on high alert. He stopped not even a foot from you, brown eyes focusing back on yours. His voice was flat, but it was a distinct tease. "You know, a lookout not on deck is no good." You could have seen it coming from a mile off, but there was something about him that made you rise to it anyway. "Looking out for what?! We’re docked! You seem to believe you’re doing a better job, and you were still here.” He indicated to himself, "First mate. Lookout is not in my official job title." He was going to drive you insane. Your breath was deep but you held back the ‘my god, how did I end up with you!?' - for both ways he could take it and neither ending up in your favour. Instead, you cleared your throat and threw your hand in the direction of the port, “Can we just go please - if you’re so eager?! You did just rush me.” Zoro shuffled on his feet a bit more before he decided to respond with, “Fine.” That did not mean that he moved very fast at all, and you shook your head slowly, following him. Apparently, the draw of alcohol wasn't even doing it tonight. You did wonder sometimes, you really did…

Once you got down the gangplank, Zoro turned immediately left. You glanced to your right; exactly where all the light and sound was coming from. God help you now... You raised your eyes to the sky; 'idiot.' Instead of saying anything, you simply reached out and took his hand. Seemed like a natural enough thing to do... He was fine with it within the confines of a room training. Touch was okay there. But in public, you couldn't be sure. Not even on a currently deserted dock. But Zoro didn't jerk away, and even when he walked far enough for his arm to pull back when you weren’t moving, he didn't drop it. Turning back to you, standing rooted in place, staring at him. Your arm stretched as far as it would go with his doing the same, hands still together. You tipped your head in the opposite direction. Once again, not a word passed your lips. His eyes moved around you to the port, but he barely acknowledged it before walking back to you, and then in step. You let him dictate the pace - still super slow.

Zoro cleared his throat, deciding that he would comment on the situation. "I knew that, I was just taking the scenic route." You declined to comment that the scenic route was about to lead Zoro off the end of the pier. There was humour in your voice, “Every route with you is the scenic route…” You wouldn't say you struck a nerve, but there was something sharp in his voice. “What are you trying to insinuate?!” You opted to just shake your head again, amusement obvious on your features; even if it was clear, you were saying something. Zoro narrowed his eyes at you, keeping them on your face to wait for you to break. Unfortunately for you, it didn't take long to start giggling. Composing yourself a little, you came up with a decent excuse. “Hey, look, I just don’t want to lose you. It’s pretty busy.”

To your earlier point, the dock around you was dead, but the direction you were heading in seemed overly crowded. Zoro, still focused on the surrounding area, was halfway through raising an eyebrow to correct you - when he realised the joke. “HA. Lose.” Again, you said nothing, maintaining innocence. If that was the conclusion he wanted to jump to - correct or otherwise. For a minute or so you thought you'd get away with it, until you found your left hip bumped by not just one, but all three of his swords - which caught across your ankle for good measure, so his timing must have been impeccable. You paused your walk for a moment, looking across to him, clearly unimpressed. Rubbing your side with your free hand. Zoro merely shrugged, voice once again level. "Sorry." His first thought had really been to muss your hair or something, but that would have meant dropping your hand, and he really didn't want to let that go. It was also the perfect excuse when his swords were between you. In honesty you thought you probably did deserve some retaliation. "Maybe you should walk on the other side of me." "Not exactly my first thought, swordsman." Maybe you would have held his hand otherwise, but this had started practically... Now it was turning more romantic. Even if the words weren't. "If you had yours that wouldn't happen." "If I had mine things would be worse - probably for me." Considering you wore yours on your left hip you probably would have had to walk on his other side... "Yeah, that’s you up against me.” (It didn’t cross your mind he would be talking about anything except sword fighting until later.) “What!? I can’t believe you’d-” What did that have to do with anything!? “Name one time you’ve ever beaten me….” You remained silent. “Exactly.” Something within you felt determined to get him back for that comment - such had your friendship always been before it had become a relationship. “You know when I said that I bet what happened with Mihawk was awful for you and I was sorry you had to go through it?” Zoro almost smirked following your train of thought, “What? Not exactly feeling that right now?” The smile you gave him in response was crooked, “Yeaaah…”

So, his only option was to one up you, “Okay, well, next time how about I just put my sword through you instead of just barely grazing you. The AUDACITY!? This time he raised a gasp from you. You turned to retaliate, but funnily enough at the exact same time you gripped his hand a little tighter - this was play fighting. “Just barely—!? You call this just barely grazing!? I damn well needed stitches! It’s going to leave a mark!” Zoro listened, body half turned into yours, but he wasn't looking at you, continuing to stare in the direction you were walking. He simply indicated to his chest; 'really!?'. You knew you had no option but to drop it then - because fair enough. But there was still a deep cut across your left shoulder blade that he had left there. Instead, you sighed gently, turning back to the lights glittering off the water, everything was getting steadily louder as you got ever closer. You smiled again, “It’s okay. I know I’m the 5th wheel here…” Zoro frowned momentarily at your math; mentally counting the crew, before he realised you were talking about his swords. He shook his head in response, lacing his fingers with yours.

You weren’t quite sure how this had happened in the first place. It also wasn't meant to be like you were sneaking around behind the crew’s backs, you just weren't ready to be out in the open yet. You'd both been bounty hunters; Zoro mostly worked alone but very occasionally you had worked together. Had a couple of other good bounty hunting buddies too – and the four of you were a decent team. It hadn't taken long for you to develop a crush on him - and as a swordswoman yourself you were in awe of his skills. It was something you only ever strived to get better at. You'd pushed that crush back a long time ago in favour of friendship - after all, unless you were going to team up permanently (not his thing.) there was not much point in getting serious about it. Added to that, Zoro never at all seemed interested in romance. You had been content to just keep seeing him around. That was until rumours started flying around the community that the great Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro was now a pirate himself. Had joined a crew and everything. At first you had simply laughed it off as ridiculous. That must have been some other guy calling himself 'Roronoa Zoro' because there was no way in hell the man you knew was going to do that. How wrong you were, sufficiently curious to follow the rumours along until you both ended up on the same island. And sure enough there he was - with a crew calling themselves the Straw Hats. A crew you now found yourself a part of, having practically begged him to teach you after he'd kicked your ass yet again. (Like you weren't about to miss a bounty hunting opportunity - even if it was him.) Now you were, as you had pointed out to him earlier, a humble student.

The relationship element was new. You knew you weren't sure who or what started it, but it happened and it just felt like a good natural progression. Neither of you were really pushing that relationship aspect currently. You were close for sure, and you always kept close. ALL the time. (And if anyone on the crew was suspicious, they didn't call it out.) You held hands after training... When you were alone. It never progressed much further than that. Passed a confession and the agreement that you were, indeed, a couple.

Yet here you were, Zoro was not protesting holding your hand on the way to the party. And hadn't he just been the one to link your fingers in this way? That hadn't been you.

Stepping up from the dock onto the port side you were both bathed in light. It went from just the two of you to apparently everyone else in the world who had descended on the little town. You weren’t sure where to look – there was so much to take in. The bustle of the people – of all ages – was secondary to the bright colours all around. Shops, restaurants, bars, and their patrons spilled out onto the streets – covered in bright neon decorations and constantly glittering lights. In the central square ahead of you, music played from an elevated platform; even from here neither of you could tell if it was a live band playing or simply amplified through a sound system, only that the gathering of people around it were dancing. All down either street was a collection of booths selling various foods, drinks, wears and even offering games to play, each one looking as busy as the next and all dressed in the same bright colours as the permanent stores. Happy voices called out to each other: both friends and merchant alike. It was more like a festival than a party and you wondered quietly if that was actually what you had stumbled upon. There was so much to see and do, standing up on the street you almost weren’t sure what to give your attention to first: but you knew it was going to be a fun evening. Zoro could feel the energy from the party hit you instantly; if he didn’t know any better, he would say you were vibrating – you had an entirely different buzz about you than you had 2 seconds ago walking with him down here. He could feel it all through your connected hands, see it in the way your eyes were almost sparkling (though, that could have been the reflection of the lights). This was your domain; you were as in your element here as he was with three swords.

Zoro instinctively pulled you closer - if you didn't want to lose him in the crowd this was the only way. "You know where they are?" "In case you didn't notice - which you did - I wasn't the one looking out for them!" "Right... Stay close. Don't let go." He pulled you forward, and tonight you decided you would just trust him with directions. The 'don't let go' hit different though; if he was going to drop your hand at any point it would be now - not only in a very public place, but the chance of any of the crew happening upon you at any second. You almost wondered aloud if it might have been due to him spending his time waiting for you drinking; loosening up a bit. It would have made sense, but it didn't seem like it. Zoro was going to the party for alcohol. If he had it on him back at the ship, why would he bother? Unless...

You were snapped from that thought by suddenly being pulled in another direction. Finding yourself steered towards a building labelled 'Bar.' Figures he'd be able to find that with no issue. You continued scanning the crowds; the crew must have been around, but also at this point were long gone to you. And Zoro was clearly interested in drinking, pushing the door open with the most enthusiasm you'd seen out of him all night. But he wasn't just holding your hand for the sake of holding it. He knew men. You had dressed up for this because you had a social side. If he didn't clearly indicate who you were with, you were as likely to end up in trouble as anything. Another reason to keep those swords on hand; if anyone dared try anything he was sending clear signals. In the bar the crowds were even more dense, and you moved closer to him, free hand coming across your body to touch his arm; if you were going to hold his hand any tighter it might actually hurt. Still, Zoro couldn't help his little smile. You scanned the gathering more, swallowing hard at the realisation of how many eyes were suddenly on you. Drawn not just to yourselves, but also more closely to the points of connection between you and your entwined fingers. Your gaze flicked back to him, still solely focused on leading you to the bar - if Zoro had noticed this attention, he paid it no mind. You almost envied that. You were very aware of how gorgeous he was - you weren’t blind! You were unlikely to be the first or only girl to ever have fallen for this man. You were just the lucky one that had him…. Somehow! If you were any other girl in this room, you'd be jealous, too.

After what felt like an age, you finally made it to the edge of the bar. He brought your twined fingers up to it, unlinking your hands but keeping them close, leaning forward to try to find the barkeep. At this point the aged wood was littered with empty glasses and bottles. You hoped for the sake of your partner the whole bar wasn't already dry. Without even asking you were both presented with a beer, "Ahh! What can I get the lovely young couple then, eh? First one is on the house!" Zoro was clearly irked by the descriptor - but got straight to the point, "What have you got? Bottle of your best...?" He waited for the suggestion. "Well, uh, I'll have to see, sir! I would expect most things are out by now, but I'm sure I can find something." "Okay. Then," Zoro's sigh was deep, like he was trying not to think about it being the only reason he came down here. "I'll have a bottle of whatever you have left!" He turned to you, look pointed, "Clearly, we are late to the party."

You were about to commend him on just the one - realising suddenly you were going to quickly become the 6th wheel in this relationship to alcohol - when you were interrupted by the overly loud calls of your captain. "HEEEYYY!! ZORO! Y/N!!!" You barely had time to turn before Luffy was throwing his arms around you and pulling you together in a three-way hug, "Where did you go!? We were worried about you guys!" "Ah, blame her. She takes too long!" You punched Zoro's arm playfully, but you returned your hand to resting next to his on the bar. Luffy said nothing - likely oblivious as ever; but you could bet if one person in the crew didn't care, it would be him. Luffy grinned, "Well it doesn't matter! You're both here now! Ahh you gotta try the food, it's so good!" You turned back to the busy room, watching everyone else laughing and joking together. Luffy and Zoro followed your eyeline. Zoro's hand brushed against yours for your attention before he nudged you, "Go on." "W-what about you!?" You whipped back, a little too quick to protest. Luffy looked between you. "I'll be fine here. Besides, I can keep an eye on you from the bar. That's what you want to be here for, go have fun." Fun definitely didn't seem like the word Zoro would use, but this wasn't about him. It was about you. You looked to the bottle of beer you'd been given and pushed it towards him, "Here, just in case they can't find you anything else. I think you need it more than me!" Turning to Luffy you smiled sweetly, rubbing his shoulder, "Look after him for me!" "I will do!" Luffy grinned, Zoro just shook his head. But you knew he had everything he needed right there. You let your eyes linger on his and focused on that touch for just a moment longer, before you slipped from under the arm of your captain and went to make yourself sociable with the other crew and townsfolk. Surely Usopp, Nami and Sanji were in here somewhere... Glancing back over your shoulder you watched Luffy take your place, chatting excitedly to his first mate. He had Zoro's full attention; it made your laugh to yourself. You were going to end up so many wheels back you might as well have not been in this relationship...!

You were social, it was one of your greatest strengths. It was easy to make friends. It made it easy to get information. That was how you used to do your bounty hunting. You could talk to anyone and everyone easily. You liked listening to people's life stories - hearing about all the places they were visiting. The islands you’d landed on; about what there was to do in the area, even if you never went yourself. You liked talking about the tiny East Blue island you'd grown up on. You had enough stories from sailing across the East Blue yourself. And you could twist the crews’ stories into something a little less... Pirate-y. You always enjoyed it, you always had fun. If someone asked you to dance, you would. If someone wanted to drink with you, you were down. Tonight... Tonight you realised that even in your element, you were not having fun. Not as much fun as you wanted. Not alone.

You hadn't thought about it before. Hadn't considered when you were getting ready that it would ever be the case. You expected to have a good time with the crew - your relationship and anything that might happen with it tonight was an added bonus to something you loved doing. But in the middle of the conversation, you couldn't help realising how much you didn't want to be there. At least... Not in the company of these people.

You looked back over your shoulder to the bar, and were almost surprised to see not only was Zoro alone once more (you would have put money on either Luffy dragging him along, or Luffy dragging everyone else over to him), but he was staring at you. Clearly, he wasn't going to take his eyes off you tonight. When Zoro said he was keeping an eye on you he meant it. And maybe he’d never say it out loud, but with you looking like this, that wasn’t the only reason. The two bottles besides him were finished. But whatever the bar man had managed to find him was unopened. He turned slowly to it, before wrapping his fingers around the neck and dragging it off the bar. Gesturing with it towards you, before tipping his head back towards the ship. You smiled, and suddenly it was the happiest you had felt all evening. In that moment you knew exactly where you wanted to be. And tonight, where you would rather find yourself.

He met you by the door as you politely excused yourself from the conversation, this time taking his other hand and making sure to walk on his left. The knowing smile on Zoro's face indicated he knew you were learning. A tiny piece of your felt bad, as he opened the door back into the night air - the crowd was a little thinner, but the party was still in full swing. It felt like you were bailing, you'd been late and you were leaving almost immediately. But it wasn't as if people could say you hadn't turned up. Luffy at the very least had seen both of you there. But there was something inside you that stirred in excitement at the thought of sneaking back to the Merry with a bottle...

If you had gone at a snail’s pace to get here, you practically ran back. Or you would have thought you had, considering how giggly and breathless you were, despite not having drunk at all tonight. Yet. With the bottle in his hand that was clearly going to change. Zoro removed his sword belt, propping them up against the wooden railing of the ship, before blowing out a breath and settling beside them; back up against a pillar, he stretched his legs out in front of him, placing the bottle between them. You shook your head, sitting yourself down in front of him with a grin. At least out here it was quiet, the air was cooler. Zoro closed his eyes for a moment, tipping his head back; allowing you to trace the lines of his face. His jaw and down his neck, up over his broad shoulders and down his toned arms, to his fingers. You thought for a moment about the skilful way he could un- and re-sheath his swords. How any just-so movement with his fingers would move those blades to make perfect strikes. You hadn't been present for the fight with Mihawk that had made the scar across his chest. That was a little too much to think about, but the shirt you were coordinating with tonight exposed enough of his chest for a part of it to be visible... But you still couldn't imagine Zoro losing. Even when you could imagine just how incredible the 'World’s Greatest Swordsman' was.

You bit your lip, thinking about your earlier jab, and suddenly felt terrible. "Hey, Zoro..." "Mhm..." He initially kept his eyes closed and head tipped back, but when you didn't continue, he changed his position to look at you. With your eyes and expression a little guilt ridden; he couldn't help tipping his head in confusion. You took a breath, and although it seemed like you wanted to look away from him, you didn't: "What I said earlier about the Mihawk fight... You know I didn’t mean it, right?” Zoro almost chuckled - that was debatable. But he had known you was joking with him. "Y/N, you worry too much." "But I still-" "Of course, I do." It's what you wanted to hear - so he would satisfy that. You sat back on your hands with a smile, this time voice a little sweeter; "And what I said about being with you being scenic… you know I did mean it, right?” You had realised the hilarity of saying every route with him was the scenic one, and that depending on how you'd said it, how it could have been either a sarcastic tease on his sense of direction or a very smooth romantic flirt. Internally you'd kicked yourself for not realising sooner and now - despite it being obvious at the time which you were going for - you wondered which way he’d actually taken it… Zoro cracked a grin, clearly he'd noticed it too. “Oh. You mean I am the view.” Even though, by the look on his face, you knew Zoro understood you hadn’t meant it that way. Yet, you couldn't help but blush a little, “Glad we could agree.” “That would be a first…” You were compelled; you leaned forward and smacked his leg. It was likely always going to be a knee-jerk reaction to his teasing. That just made him chuckle, and he picked up the bottle again, cracking it open. "Should I get some glasses?" "Glasses?" Zoro scoffed, "Hell no. Now c'mere." He beckoned you forwards.

You couldn't help being intrigued, but as you moved to the side of him, Zoro grabbed your waist, pulling you to sit between his legs. For a minute you struggled, both shrieking and laughing, pushing against him enough that he had to physically hold you in place. You relented, giggles still rising in your chest as his arms wound around your waist. Head propped back against his chest you looked up at him. "Okay fine, you win!" "I'll just chalk yet another one up." "Ah, keep them, I'm never beating you." "Wow." He smirked again, "Did we just agree on two things? Careful, Y/N, we might be on a roll!" You nudged his face with your palm, "Hush!" Causing Zoro to grab your hand and interlink your fingers again. The movement caused his piercings to run together, making them chime softly. You focused on them dancing for a moment, unable to help yourself from reaching out and making the gold ring together again. Zoro simply shook his head at you, picking up the bottle he'd just opened (and somehow in all that hadn't spilled everywhere.) and taking a sip. "Whatever helps you amuse yourself." "One per sword?" "I'm not even answering that." "Hey, it's a valid question!" After all, you had a multitude of piercings in both your ears and didn't carry nearly that many weapons. He ignored you, holding the bottle out. You accepted it gratefully and read the label; "Any good?" "It's alcohol, even the bad stuff is good." "Yeah, no," you sighed, "that sounds like you." You took a drink and concluded that this one was indeed, pretty good. Taking another sip, he smacked the top of your thigh, "Hey! No drinking the whole bottle, I waited too long to get that one!" You almost choked, "And you won't get any if you make me spill the damn thing!" "You do that, I'll be throwing you overboard and telling the crew you elected to stay in town." "Thing is I wouldn't put it past you..." You handed the bottle back to Zoro, making yourself comfortable against his body, "I'm just saying a good boyfriend wouldn't do that." You heard Zoro huff a laugh as he lifted the bottle to his lips again, "Ah, I never promised to be one of those." "What? A good boyfriend?" "That's the one." "Well. A girl can dream." "That's all you'll be doing." You let out a laugh then, a full-blown belly laugh. "I know you're determined to ruin this, but you can't. It's not happening. This is exactly what I wanted." "Me?" But he left it there, fingers of the hand not holding the bottle finding yours again.

You sat in silence for a moment, the only sound your breathing and the back and forth of the liquid in the bottle every time he took a drink. Further back, the dull hum of the party, and the waves lapping at the side of the Merry. Inspecting the bottle once more Zoro realised it was nearly empty. Looking down at you in his arms he realised your eyes were closed. "Hey..." He tried softly, so not to wake you if you were asleep. "Mmm?" Your response let him know that even if you weren’t, you weren’t far off. "You want any more of this?" "Oh, no." You shuffled a little more, head moving to his shoulder, opening more of your body to the warmth of his, Zoro found himself pulling his legs in closer to aid you with this. "It's yours. You said it yourself; it was hard to come by. And I know it was the only reason you were going anywhere near the party." He stared at you for a moment, and then between you and the bottle. Your eyes were closed, so you didn't see his next soft smile. "Well, maybe it wasn't the only reason." You didn't respond, but he saw the smile on your face grow.

By the time he'd finished the drink you were asleep, and even when he moved himself to get a little more comfortable - careful with you still in his arms - you didn't wake. He'd have to be vigilant, glancing to his swords... Just in case anyone did think they were about to come on here and try to mess with you, or the ship. Come to think of it, where were yours...? ‘Ah forget it, I could handle it myself.’ He looked back down to you, peaceful. Pressed up against him, Zoro suddenly noticed how warm you were. How the air had a distinct chill to it the later into the night it became. (Heck, maybe it was early morning now. But there was no way of knowing - especially with none of your crewmates around.) Delicately he brushed some of your hair out of your face, before pressing his lips fleetingly to your forehead. Closing his eyes, he propped his head on top of yours, position of his body protective to your smaller form. He almost laughed to himself - when the hell did something like this happen? "Goodnight, Y/N..." * * *

It was not the scene the crew expected to return to, that was for sure. Looking between each other and trying to determine who might have had any indication that you were in any way a “thing.” Clearly, you and Zoro had been just that good at keeping it under wraps. Not that it mattered much now; nothing could have been more obvious! “What. The. Hell!?” Sanji was the first one to gain anything near composure enough to talk - although not composure in general. Nami and Usopp had to move quickly to hold him back; “I’m going to KILL that moss-head!” “Sanji! No! Wait!!”

Nami internally cursed herself for not being the first one on the ship. If she had been, she could have kept the rest of them away and would have had pretty good ammo for blackmailing you both for Berri. Ah well, no good thinking too much on that now. “I, for one, think it’s sweet.” Sanji scoffed. “Maybe she’ll lighten him up a little! God knows he needs that. Always so damn serious! And unsociable! I would welcome that change.” “Not with her though!” Sanji made another noise of discontent, making Nami sigh. As if Sanji would be fine with Zoro being with any other woman – on this crew or otherwise? She looked back to the scene; cuddled up together and sleeping soundly. It was late - maybe even early - and the air was much cooler than it had been before, rolling in from the sea. “Can one of you get a blanket? Last thing we need is either of them catching a cold!” Luffy - who had just been staring at you up until now, trying to add it all up in his head; it would explain how close you were at the bar but also… - suddenly sprang into life: “I’LL DO IT!” Nami grabbed him, clamping her hand over his mouth, “Stop yelling you idiot! You’ll wake them up!” Sanji actually thought that was a great idea - but he wasn’t exactly the person who was going to go against Nami’s wishes.

Luffy’s version of quiet was more of a shouted whisper, and he sounded out his words in their syllables for emphasis. “Sorry. I’ll get it!” Nami placed her hand against her forehead watching him walk off in big slow steps - she truly was surrounded by idiots. It was a good thing she loved them.

By the time he came back, she’d managed to successfully move Usopp and Sanji on. And once he handed her what she’d asked for, she began ushering Luffy away (which, considering him, ended up only being a few feet further back.) Rolling her eyes, Nami sighed again, unfurling the blanket, and throwing it carefully over you both. She tucked it as much as she thought she’d get away with before it woke you up and stood back admiring her handy work.

Luffy looked between you and her, “Soooo… will they be alright now?!” “I think so…” Nami turned to him, and pushed, “Now will you get out of here and give them some quiet!” “Well, what about you!?” “I’m leaving too! Honestly—!” “Okaaaaay….!!” He protested as if he wasn’t protesting and walked away.

But when Nami turned back, she almost jumped. Zoro’s eyes were open, and he was staring at her. From the expression on his face, she couldn’t tell if he was impressed or not. She decided she’d probably rather not enquire. After a little while of unnerving her on purpose, Zoro closed his eyes again. But he spoke, voice quiet. “Thanks, Nami.” She smirked, because this was her chance. He’d just left that door wide open and she wasn’t missing the opportunity. “You’re welcome. But you guys owe me!” He sighed - knew it! - this much more of discontent, “Of course.”

---

Nights turn into days Days turn into months I was always alone Until you came along Now you've got me singing

I think I like you, maybe more than I should Hurts like heaven and it feels so, feels so You do me better than any other love could Hurts like heaven, and it feels so, feels so good It feels so good

--- [Inspo.] ---

It was hardly worth even parking the car up – she knew she’d lost long before she crossed the line. The jet screaming overhead confirmed it. She might as well drive the car out of the airfield and peace out. That would have been her preference. Only this Lamborghini was hardly road legal, and her team would have had a few words to say to her – none of them particularly glowing…

She walked away from the car without really looking at any of the mechanics rushing over to check it, before they wheeled it into its container for transporting to the factory – luckily, being last year’s model, it wouldn’t be needed next race. Especially with how hard she’d pushed it. Her trainer knew to leave her well alone too, as she continued walking straight down the taxi way. She needed to cool off a little bit.

In her head, Bailey Walker was going through every move and turn she made; did she make the best use of the throttle, every paddle shift up and down – where she’d decided to put her foot down and where she’d lifted… where had she lost time? If she’d have just decided to break a little later here, or not steered so wide there, decided not to drift… or perhaps decided to drift. Who was she really kidding though, it was a fighter jet not another car… No doubt whatever her grievances were, they’d be talked out at a debrief – which she would request; even if not a championship race if she could learn from it, it would be information worth having.

She became aware of someone distantly calling, but she was so in her head at this stage that it took a while for her to figure out it was her name they were calling. “Hey!!! Heeeey!!! Bailey!!! Wait!! Wait, Bailey!!”

As soon as he’d seen her walking away, Jake Seresin knew that he had to chase her down the taxi way. Despite post-flight checks that couldn’t wait, and despite all the aviators and ground team trying to congratulate him on his win… He wasn’t sure if she was going to collect her things and get going, or if she had the intent of staying.

He’d almost caught up to her by the time she turned around, already having stripped her overalls to tie around her waist. She’d left her helmet back in the car – there was too much season left to get frustrated and throw it, but she wasn’t one to hide behind her visor unless she was really upset. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder for a minute, watching the car swarmed with mechanics. She’d taken it more than just a little hard in places - in the set-up shots the camera crew had taken she’d had a lot of smoke and wheel spin off the line too - more than once. What was the point of not putting on a show for the cameras, after all? She winced apologetically at the thought that doing so wouldn’t have been good. Hopefully she hadn’t pushed too hard. Even if this was just a show car, the team were still precious about it; why wouldn’t they be?!

When she focused back on the man who’d been calling her name, she was almost surprised to find it was Jake Seresin. The pilot she’d been hanging out with all day - that she just raced against. Not only that, but he was still in nearly all his flight gear – he’d surely made sure to waste no time. No, Jake was much more bothered about catching her than he was any necessary checks post-race. Bailey stopped, and took half a pace back on one foot, arms folded, defensive. She’d watched this guy all day - he’d got a little too much ego, he was cocky, he was a little too good looking – An All-American Dream – and he knew it. He had every right to be, especially now. Jake was the best in his class - and it more than showed. All Bailey expected was for him to gloat. She wanted to beat him to it - swallowing back disappointment, she spoke as he stopped a few paces from her, “Congr-” “Hey, are you going now? Or are you staying - they said there was catering earlier, but I wondered if your team might need to hit the road…” Her eyebrows raised, and she counted herself surprised, it seemed like a strange angle to start on. She didn’t quite know what to do but answer with a question of her own – and Bailey knew she sounded as bemused as she was. “Are… you staying?” His smile didn’t quite reach cocky, “I asked first.” “Well, I got nowhere to be.” Bailey shrugged before casting her eyes to the sky, cheeks burning, because even if she knew beating him was an impossibility she still hated losing. “That was some nice flying. I wish I saw more of it, but I was trying to focus on the road… you deserved to win. Sounds like when they said you were top of your class, they really did mean it.” When Bailey looked back to him, Jake wasn’t looking at her, even though he was smiling – he didn’t seem the type to get bashful, and yet… - it was a very different kind of smile, “I wish I could have seen more of the car… I guess it’s a little hard, y’know, going vertical. But you were really giving it some. Besides, I’ve not graduated yet, so that might not be true for much longer… you are certified fastest in your team, it shows. That wasn’t a big margin.” It was a compliment. She bowed her head a little - “Thank you. I guess that can’t be bad coming from the fastest pilot either.” “Guess not!” He grinned, then pointed back the way he’d just run, “You wanna… grab something together - I mean, you can eat with your crew I’m not gonna… I mean, I just…” Jake realised he was tripping over his words and Bailey was giving him a look he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But she at least seemed amused by this - waiting for him to string the right words together. She was letting him try. Patient. Instead, he paused and rolled his eyes, “I’m staying. We’ve hung out all day talking about our vehicles of choice. I guess it’d be good to get to know each other a little better.” Bailey smirked to herself before nodding, “Sure. That’s cool with me.”

This was true – they had spent nearly all day together to film this segment – Race Car vs Fighter Jet. Or… whatever it would eventually be called, but that was the entire premise. They’d been introduced first thing this morning as the two competitors – and the two fastest members of their respective ‘teams’. Jake had yet to graduate his Top Gun class, and Bailey was an up-and-comer, competing in an all-women racing team. (At least from a driver point of view). Once it had been explained what they had to do, and establishing shots had been done of both them and their vehicles of profession, the two had been left to their own devices as the crew filmed the more science-based parts of the day with presenters. Where upon Bailey and Jake had made general comparisons between the jet and the car; discussing top speeds, aerodynamics, handling, cornering, 0-to-60-to-over-100 (as if that mattered to a jet, but it was all good fun!) amongst other things…

Sitting here in the catering tent – or, hanger, as that’s what they were using – across from him, trying to talk about himself without coming across as too egotistical (she could tell; though she had a healthy amount of ego herself, as a competitive racer. It was almost a necessity.), Bailey wasn’t sure if she was really interested in him or not. If she had a type, she wouldn’t say the man talking to her now was it. But she wasn’t going to deny Jake Seresin was attractive. That he didn’t make her heart race as fast as her car when they were introduced… she just, wasn’t sure. And Jake? He was talking 100 miles an hour, but he still managed to be collected. But when he kept looking at her to check if she was still hanging on to every word he said, there was a constant look on his face that intrigued her. ‘Do I make him nervous?’ That confused Bailey a little. He didn’t have that type of energy about him. Jake seemed too sure of himself to ever have problems articulating; especially around women. Bailey could bet they usually tripped over themselves for him. But, it was that sort of look - maybe not present in his body language but in his eyes. Maybe it was dread. But he had no reason to fear her, so what?

As they continued to talk, eventually it dawned on her. (And there must have been something between them, given that no one disturbed them the entire time – no one from his team or hers. She expected a debrief, or at least someone to tap her shoulder and say when that would be, yet nothing. They were just left alone to talk.) So what did dawn on her, was that Jake’s look was the fear of her slipping away. The fear of her getting up and leaving – of that person, whoever it would be, eventually stepping in - and that he still wouldn’t have told her everything he wanted to. Of the chance he’d never get to see her again. Bailey knew she couldn’t just voice that though - he’d play it off; more likely Jake would throw it back at her, say she’s the one who can’t resist him. But she knew… he was chasing. It was the reason he ran after her on the taxi way, it was the reason he asked her to stay. Jake already had a crush – whether he would admit it out loud or not.

She should have guessed this from the immediate introduction. He was Jake, and he let her call him that – not by his last name, nor rank. Not by his call sign – even though almost everyone else was doing one or the other. The one time she had decided to ask about it; just in case he wasn’t one to correct her, he’d said “Jake is fine!” with one of those smiles that she was sure had all the girls falling for him.

 There was a natural end to the day though. There had to be. The shooting was wrapped, and the crews were packing up around them as the sun began to sink lower in the sky. It was unfortunate for them both – given the way their discussion had gone there was some kind of chemistry, that was undeniable. Whatever it was – or was going to be. There was a feeling that they both still had something to say.

All sets of teams around them did their best to pack up without having to disturb them until the last possible second, but eventually her trainer, Luca, had to interrupt. “Bailey?” The two of them trailed their conversation off to look at him. “Sorry, the car is probably going to be here to pick you up within the next 10 minutes. You wanna debrief?” “In the car will do, Luca, thank you.” “Alright, I’ll come back when it’s here.” He nodded politely to Jake before leaving them alone once more. Although he didn’t show it on his face, Jake was disappointed – his emotional state slumped a little, but he knew he couldn’t keep her here. He was a charmer, he knew that - he knew how it was to flirt back with the girls that came walking up at The Hard Deck and it was easy. But the woman sitting across from him now didn’t seem to be falling for it - no matter how engaged Bailey was in what he said, there were no hearts in her eyes that meant he could persuade her anywhere…

All he could do was just hope that her interest was at least genuine. That she wasn’t talking to him for the sake of having someone there to talk to – or to be polite for today. Jake shook that off – her whole damn mechanic team was here, she had plenty of people she could choose to talk to and she was spending her time with him. He’d got this!

Still, there was no harm in trying – and there was an urgency now. He had ten minutes before she walked out of his life forever. “So, uh… any chance of getting your number, before you go? I mean, besides the one you race with?” And he winked, with an appropriate laugh. Although it had been peeled off the car for the race (along with the majority of the sponsors, given the video) the 85 was printed on the back of her fireproofs, underneath her last name. Jake’s voice was smooth and included a hopefulness behind it… as much as something vulnerable. Bailey would hate to disappoint him, but that wasn’t something she did. This wasn’t something she ever did. “No…” She leaned on her hand and before his face could fall in more than obvious disappointment he was doing very well not to show – it reached his eyes though, the discomfort with her answer was obvious in that hazel -  Bailey gave another little smirk, this one mysterious, “but you can follow my Instagram.”

Part of her wished she hadn’t, because it immediately put Jake back on that attitude of his. Although, part of her had already decided she liked to see that on him. The feeling nothing could get to him – Bailey had just given him an out, Jake could play it off like she was the one asking for his number, “Oh, okay, alright. It’s like that, huh?” “Yeah.” And it was her turn to playfully wink at him, “pretty much.”

Ten minutes passed in little-to-no time, and it really was time for them to part. By then they were standing by the entry to the hanger. Her car was waiting patiently, her trainer leaning against it shaking his head. But Luca didn’t interrupt, he let Bailey have her time. They parted ways amicably; their handshake quickly turning into a hug. That perhaps lasted a little too long – Bailey wasn’t sure. “Congrats again on your win. You can tell people you beat a real racer – how’s that?” He laughed, “Well, you can tell your friends you nearly beat a Top Gun pilot… but I… I mean I don’t know if that gets you any cred.” “Ah, I got to race a jet, there’s not many racers can say that.” Bailey grinned – despite losing, she had to admit, it had been a fun day. Probably once in a lifetime. “Well, at least I can give you something good to say!” Jake was doing his best to act bashful, but Bailey wasn’t falling for that either. She stepped away from him, with another polite nod of thanks, before offering him one final wave goodbye, and following her trainer to the car. The door being opened the second she started walking showed Luca’s real impatience. Bailey almost looked to the sky in an eyeroll, laughing to herself. He will have followed her by the time she’d left the airfield and she’d be just another girl by the end of the week. Jake looked the type. She didn’t necessarily mind that. (At least, that’s what she was telling herself right now). Bailey wasn’t looking for anything. She had a career of her own, and she had to focus on the race coming up in a few weeks.  Tomorrow she’d be back training on the simulator as if today had never happened. That was how it went. Jake Seresin would be just a guy she raced against once in another video stunt PR and Marketing had got her involved in. And then 1 in a few hundred thousand when he followed her.

Her phone beeped before the car was even off the taxi way and Bailey couldn’t help but laugh. Of course! She should have bet on it.

*** The sunlight glinted obnoxiously off the VIP pass in his hands that he had to flash to security as he walked through the paddock – despite already having scanned in his ticket.

‘What the hell am I even doing here, this is insane!?’ How did he go from sending a hopeful Instagram DM, to being invited out to the US round of the World Endurance Championship. That just so happened to coincide with his next leave period. Heck – maybe Jake Seresin should actually be calling it luck.

Bailey was more responsive to his messages than he expected – especially with him not quite being able to gage her interest in him initially – and they just kept talking. Even when he was sure maybe the conversation had really dried up. Her own thinking had her concluding that if they’d raced on his home turf – at an airfield – then he had to come and see Bailey at her own; a race track. So she didn’t just send him a ticket, but a VIP paddock pass that would get him into the motorhome for her team.

Right now, he probably couldn’t have looked more out of place. Fans excitedly chatting, sporting team and driver gear, some even gathering around drivers for autographs and selfies. Team staff of all types running up and down between the trucks and buildings – shouting incoherently to one another or driving small vehicles containing car parts and other personnel. Journalists and photographers, all looking to get the best new stories and best shots. Jake was just trying to take it all in. With the also obnoxiously bright pink and black pass hanging around his neck – the colours of Bailey’s team; the only all women’s team in the WEC – Jake felt a bit like a fraud. Surely these groups of fans deserved this more than he did? They probably could rattle off a million facts about Bailey Walker that he wouldn’t have known… yet, he was the one talking to her on social media… so… he guessed he had that. The thought had a little smirk appearing on his face as he cleared his throat, relaxing his shoulders back and standing a little taller – exactly, damn right! She’d invited him here!

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Already having let Bailey know he’d arrived; she’d rather enthusiastically replied with a ton of celebratory emojis and that he should let her know when he was in the paddock. Which as he now was, he did exactly that. It wasn’t long before she was typing back, and he found himself staring at instructions for getting to their motorhome. Geez… okay… He studied them carefully, before beginning to walk in the specified direction. Jake was starting to think it might be easier if she just came and collected him herself. Or, at least had someone else do it. He was hoping this wouldn’t end with an embarrassing phone call and him getting lost. It wasn’t just a straight line of teams after all, she had him turning left and right at various points to get to other rows all laid out within the space afforded to them by the circuit. He was passed on all sides by other people in team gear who must have been laughing at him silently inside… Jake had no idea where he was going and he could bet he looked it. Normally he’d brush it off and act confident, but Jake was trying to stare at his phone to make sure he was following what she said to a T, and also staring up at the buildings around to make sure he hadn’t missed it on accident. It was obvious he was new around here at the very least, and that display of confidence from before was waning.

Eventually Jake had to stop moving for fear of getting hopelessly lost. They weren’t directions that hard to follow – but he’d suddenly started second guessing himself. Had he actually turned the right way at all the points she’d listed? What if he hadn’t? What if he was hopelessly lost. Dammit – he didn’t actually want to have to make that phone call! The objective was to walk in there, cool as hell, like he did this all the time! Jake wondered if it was really the pang of nerves in his stomach at seeing her face to face again. Their open, chill DM banter… would it translate once they spoke to each other again? Once they hung out… this weekend for much longer than they had before.

As Jake stared at his phone again, bent closer to the screen, making him look more confused and out of place than he did before, he suddenly heard a whistle from above him, and then voices. “Hot damn – hey, girls look at this!” “Holy shit - wait, is that him?! She was totally right!” “Hey! Good looking, where you going!?” Jake looked up to find himself stared at by three women leaning over a balcony, all in the black-and-pink of Bailey’s team. Though the motorhome itself was white. And the name emblazoned on the side – in neon yellow he might add: ‘IL COVO’ - was not her team name. Way to make him look even more confused. “Uh…” Although he’d be lying if he didn’t say he felt a little flattered to be cat called like this, Jake removed his sunshades, “I’m looking for the Iron Dames motorhome?” “Oh. You’re for us!? Damn, isn’t this our lucky day.” “Well, I-” he laughed, “Bailey Walker invited me.” “Bailey?” One pouted, “Aw c’mon, we can show you a better time than her!” One of the other women immediately turned around, “Bailey - Hey Bailey, your boyfriend is here!” There was some muffled scuffling, and one of the women disappeared, before there was more yelling, “Holy shit, why didn’t you SAY he was so gorgeous!!” Jake couldn’t help but grin a little more, feeling that little ego boost. The next voice echoed faintly, as if it was far away but yelling enough to be heard even from where he was standing, “Oh my god, will you guys shut up! Stop yelling!” “Look, we can’t help that he’s so hot.” “Stop cat calling him – my god can you get any more embarrassing!” The woman who had disappeared before, popped back over, leaning even further out than she was before, “If you get bored with her, hot stuff, we’re always up here.” Before winking, “But this girl has a massive crush on you…” Jake tried not to let that go all the way to his head – he didn’t know if that was the truth or if they were teasing him… or her… or both. “Shut up! Leave him alone!” There was a scrabbling sound and finally Bailey popped up beside them, a little flushed. And he didn’t know if that was from embarrassment or hurrying to get there, “Jake!” her voice was joyful, and she beamed upon seeing him, “Hey! Just come up to the door, you got your pass, right?” He flashed it at her, “Perfect! Yeah, I’ll be right down! Please ignore my team mates!” “Ignore us!? Bailey that’s so rude!” At this point another group of people in overalls – these ones yellow and black, and also on men! – had peered over the side of the motorhome to see what all the fuss was about, and they were all chuckling. Jake couldn’t help but laugh himself as he walked towards the glass front door, finding himself called on again; “Don’t be a stranger!” He grinned up at them as they waved at him, “Don’t worry, I won’t!”

Once inside – as if he hadn’t just been checked outside the door – Jake found himself face to face with what looked like a security guard. If he wasn’t also wearing a suit and standing at a desk that made him look like a Matire D – but the guy was intimidatingly tall. Jake raised an eyebrow approaching the desk. “Ah, hello Sir. I see your pass.” He gestured, “My name is Chris – I look after everyone on the motorhome.” Jake could imagine that look after must entail pretty much everything. Including first – or, second - line of defence. “Before I let you wander around – I better get you checked in, I don’t believe I’ve seen you on here already?” “No, that’s right. I’m Jake, Seresin.” “Seresin… Seresin…” Chris ran down the list of names with his pen – before letting out a laugh he obviously didn’t mean to be audible by how it was cut short and he placed his hand over his mouth. Eyes raising back to Jake, he smiled, “You’re here for Bailey?” “…That’s right.” Jake could imagine the expression on his face was one of surprised concern – should he be worried? What had he let himself in for?! “Sorry – that’s just unusual – if not for her parents! Bailey never gets visitors!” Chris raised his eyebrows and crossed through Jake’s name on the list, before muttering, “Good Luck!” Jake’s face creased in concern, “Uh… thanks?” Before he started walking again, then paused, “Wait, I don’t… have to do this again right?” “Oh no, just flash your pass – I’ve got you all memorised.” No doubt. “Okay… thanks Chris!” By the time Jake started walking on, Bailey had already appeared in the bottom of the motorhome, leaning against a wall draped in ivy. She was wearing a black t-shirt – team branded – and jeans. Obviously not expecting to be out in the car for a while. Bailey raised her hand in greeting and Jake was at least relieved he wouldn’t have to wait around by himself for a while.

“Hey!” “Hey, it’s good to see you again.” He leaned down to her own lean up – such was the height difference – as they hugged, accepting cheek kisses. “Oh-!” Bailey grinned at his greeting, “And you too! It’s nice to speak face to face again, huh Jake?” She nodded behind him to Chris, “Did he tell you good luck!?” “How’d you know?” Jake quirked his eyebrow again, half expecting her to let him know what he’d been warned about. Bailey simply rolled her eyes. “I just said you’d be coming and they’ve been teasing me ever since.”  Then she gaped, suddenly embarrassed, “Oh my god! My team-! I- I’m so sorry! That- they joked so much about doing that all through practice and stuff and I never thought they’d actually go ahead and tease YOU! I’m sorry – I… they’re a great bunch and lovely girls really, I… I’m so sorry!” Jake waved away her apology, knowing she was likely right, “Naw, it’s okay! What’s a little bit of banter huh?” He laughed, “I’ve heard worse from the Navy guys. You’re all good.” “Ah, just wait – they’ll all be thanking you for your service next.” “Aw, stop.” He winked, which made her shove him playfully. “Uh, question…” He pointed behind him, “This is not what I expected.” “That wasn’t a question, but I think I’ve got your wavelength…” She smirked, folding her arms and tracing her eyeline slowly around the room, to which he followed.

The motorhome did indeed look like a miniature home. Light and airy and filled with fake, or maybe some real, plants. Polished authentic wooden surfaces mixed well with the modern glass and steel and stark white. But it still had a homely feel, plush sofas, and tables where some of the team were sat chatting – likely about strategy – the lighting from above wasn’t harsh either, the large windows allowing plenty of natural light. The wall Bailey had been leaning against was deceptive; actually just a dividing boarder to the rest of the building – bar tables pushed up against the wall: upon which hung framed pictures of cars, tracks and podiums, the stairs heading to the top deck (which was clearly something like an outside balcony). The surfaces either were crowded with laptops or coffee machines and fridges for snacks. Jake assumed that catering facilities were in another part that he just couldn’t see. On the wall directly opposite them was mounted a large flatscreen TV – clearly for showing the racing when any was actually happening – and two logos. One for The Iron Dames – in pink and black – and the other for the Iron Lynx – this in yellow and black. Iron Lynx, and the vibrant yellow, was of course what Jake had been met with on the outside.

“So technically we’re part of the Iron Lynx brand – we’re just the all-girls team. The Lynx team are all guys – but you’ll see ‘Iron Lynx’ on our car too.” She smiled, “The more you know!” “Gotcha.” – Although he was sure it’d make more sense when he met the teams and saw the cars going around. Though it did explain the group of male drivers he’d seen on the top deck too. “I’m sure you thought the motorhome would live up to the pink and black! Or at least black and yellow, that would make sense. But no, right now we’re white!” She gave a shrug. Maybe that would change in the future, then. “I see.” She watched him carefully, “Feeling a bit out of your depth?” He didn’t see any point in trying to deflect, Bailey had the intuition and perception of a racer, after all. Really Jake had nowhere to hide, and as he saw it, no reason to. “Just a little…” She smiled, patting him, “Well – you’re at least appropriately dressed.” Jake looked down at himself; jacket, jeans, boots, button up shirt… shades now tucked into the front. The pink kinda clashed with the soft blues, but whatever. He pulled it off. “You’ll get the hang of things. You’ll be a certified expert by the time I’m done with you. And don’t worry – I’ll make sure you’re not harassed… I mean, I did invite you out here to see you…” Her features softened, affectionately, “…and… I – uh – I obviously want you to enjoy the experience.” He smiled, and she knew she’d said exactly the right thing to swell his ego right. Although truth was, she did mean every word. She wanted to see Jake again, because she had some things to figure out. And Bailey knew that the only way to do that now was to have a face-to-face conversation with him. This wasn’t something she could figure out over text anymore – you could only get to know someone so well from that. Bailey wanted to remove that limitation. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I think I’ll enjoy myself.” She laughed, nodding, before she opened her arms back to the room – a small gesture before putting her hands in her pockets. This time when her eyes met his they glinted, full of confidence: “Well, Jake, welcome to my domain.”

--- --- --- ---

In the just over 18 months since Markus’ march on Hart Plaza, plenty had already changed in the world. That was just in the immediate circle of the movement and their allies within Detroit Police Department. Connor hadn’t given up his role as a detective, and nowadays he had almost as many rights as his human counterparts – give or take a few, Markus and co. were in Washington D.C. seemingly every other weekend negotiating something or other.

Cyberlife had turned into something more of an android repair shop and upgrade centre. Those who chose to remain with their human families certainly needed such things – and those who didn’t could still drop by. Even with Jericho also open to welcome and service all commers. And – like it or not – certain androids still needed to return to Cyberlife for such tuning. Connor being a prime example – though these days he hardly ever went unaccompanied. And, Kamski was more or less back in the driver’s seat, so… it was unlikely anything untoward was going down.

With one notable exception. Nines. The RK-900 model was released exactly a year after Markus’ revolution – that was no coincidence. Cyberlife had been working on an android that was impossible to turn Deviant for a long while. They weren’t just going to lock him away. No, instead Nines (as he was now affectionately dubbed) was shipped out to the central precinct of the DPD to be the very last machine. Even if he was the first of his kind. The most advanced model cyberlife had ever created – and at least as far as the foreseeable future was concerned, the last model to ever be released. He may not have been a prototype – but he was damn near as cold and efficient as Cyberlife had wanted Connor to be. And also eerily looked like him, which had caused many to steer clear for Nines’ first few months on the job.

Though, considering for some insane reason he’d been paired up with Gavin Reed, it was fairly understandable why anyone would want to steer clear. Try as Gavin might to protest it, no one budged and try as he might to insult his partner into giving up, Nines was unflappable. But, had a sense of sarcasm where it was never quite easy to tell if he was joking or just plain being mean. (When he was talking to Gavin it was nearly always the latter).

Markus and Connor – what with the power they had to deviate android models as prototypes - had always talked of doing something about it. Regarding testing if Cyberlife’s “incorruptible” android really was all that. But Ilyana – Jericho’s sole Human ‘member’, for relation purposes – was always adamant that if Nines were to turn, it would have to be on his own terms; his own realisation, just as it had been for them. She had been the one to first call him “Nines” instead of his model number, and he’d duly adopted it. If he could show any form of affection and emotion, it was usually to her. Which is how this sudden change in plans had really come about.

  Paige Carlin, CSI, was one of the people who had taken a long while to warm to the new presence in the precinct. She liked androids well enough, but… considering her situationship with Connor it was never going to be easy getting used to someone who looked almost identical. As she stepped into the office this morning however, having just about got used to his presence, she found Nines standing at his desk with a box – packing. She raised an eyebrow, stuffing her hands into her pockets. This was unexpected, and sudden, he’d not said anything about moving. Glancing to Connor and Hank, she found herself none the wiser, they were both working at their desks seemingly unbothered (though, Connor would probably like being the only android in Central again.)  

She approached Nines slowly, not to seem nosy but only appropriately curious. “Where are you off to!?” He looked up, gave a slight nod to acknowledge her – his version of Good Morning she supposed, and then went right back to packing. “I’ve been reassigned.” Paige almost couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows in shock, “T- To a new precinct?! Where are you going? We’ve only just got used to you being here and integrated, and they’re making you leave?! That doesn’t seem fair!” Although, she could assume with almost 99% positivity that Gavin probably had something to do with it – despise Androids as he still did. Paige had issues of her own with Nines’ partner. Ex-Partner. Even though the android seemed pretty unbothered by this change of plans, Paige couldn’t help but glare into Gavin’s back. “We’re all gonna miss you! Especially Gavin but I’m sure he’ll get over it - after 2 weeks of uncontrollable crying.” She was impressed with herself, less than five minutes in the office and already able to get digs in at her least favourite co-worker? Must have been a new record. The man in question turned around and shot her a look. Needless to say, she wasn’t his favourite person either.

This time Nines stood still, giving her his full attention, to address her question properly. Which she appreciated, even though his blue eyes were still unnerving. Did CyberLife really have to make them THAT blue!? She thanked God sometimes that he at least didn’t have the same voice they’d given Connor. There was the same kind of tone, same rhythm, but it was a little deeper – and he pronounced words and letters ‘properly’- The ‘t’s and ‘g’s, in particular, were never dropped. “I’m going to D.C.” Paige stalled for a second - well, she hadn’t been expecting that. “Washington!? Wow. What!?” Nines nodded, looked like he was about to hesitate telling her something and then decided to say it anyway, “More specifically, the White House.” “The- the White House!?” She spluttered, eyes wide, before collecting herself. Actually, that seemed very logical. “Well, yeah, I… I guess with all you can do that makes sense! Security?” He blinked once, straightening to his towering full height; “In a way.” That was Nines’ way of politely asking her to drop the questions before he started telling her everything was classified. Paige merely nodded, understanding. “I guess they… didn’t really build you for…” She waved her hands at the station floor, “this! A lot of wasted potential in your design just being here!” That was true. Connor had been built for police work, for all intents and purposes, Nines had been built for war.

Speaking of her favourite android, from the other side of the precinct Connor couldn’t help but look up, a little hurt. Paige didn’t even need to see him to know this had occurred and pointed back at him, “I knew you were gonna take offence to that!” Connor looked from her to Nines and back, head tilted, “I didn’t even say anything!” She looked back at him with a wink, “Babe, I know you!” Before turning back to Nines with a smile, “Congrats boy, you’re going places! You’ll have to remember your friends back in DPD central precinct when you’re up in the lofty heights of DC political society!” What ghost of a smile emote she presumed CyberLife had coded him with for ‘happiness’, Nines gave her in return, “I’m sure I’ll be back visiting – it’s not like Detroit isn’t a political centre itself these days.” The ‘what with’ was left unsaid, but in unison they both managed:

“Markus.” Before Paige nodded again, “Makes sense! You’ll have to let us know every time you’re in town! Does Ilyana know, she’ll be upset for sure!” Nines – as Paige predicted – managed to make his smile a little more genuine at the mention of said woman. It almost reached his eyes. “Yes. I was discussing things with her recently, in fact she is where this comes from.” Paige’s eyebrows raised again, this time she leaned forward onto his desk, “From Il- no, I changed my mind I shouldn’t be concerned if she’s upset! I should be blaming her!” She took a breath, and chuckled, “I’m kidding, this will be great for you! I hope you enjoy it!” If he even knew what that meant. Still, Nines responded as expected. “I’ll do my best.”

There were a few seconds silence that followed, but the intent stare that Paige was giving him told Nines all he needed to know. Exactly what she was asking when she wasn’t even asking it. Nines could read her like a book. “I can’t tell you what I’m doing there, Ms. Carlin - it’s classified!” There was the word she expected, but it disappointed her all the same. Couldn’t he make an exception for the group of people here he might be able to call friends? Ilyana would probably know – but getting anything out of her would be just as hard, Paige would reckon. Connor quirked an eyebrow, still listening into the conversation. Eyes flicking to his computer. Classified? Yeah right - he could have that file cracked in two seconds and Nines probably knew it. Paige would likely know the information she was after before he even got the chance to leave the building. Still, as far as Nines was concerned it would remain classified if he hadn’t told her.

Truth was it wasn’t just any normal type of security Nines would be heading to the White House for – and it wasn’t really government work either. With Androids gaining their own rights there were obviously a lot of people who, having previously had problems with Androids when they were viewed as ‘machines’, had even more problems with them now. Anti-Android protests and groups sparked up across the country and whenever they were on the news, they were a great point of contention. Usually this was the point that Nines would hear Hank and Paige swear most and turn off the news so as not to get so mad they’d put their fists through the screen. On the other side of things there were the pro-android groups; those supporting the android movement, who felt like the government weren’t doing enough, even when they were working in collaboration with Markus. Mostly the protesting was non-violent but, that didn’t mean they all were. And, during all of this the president had received a number of death threats. Warren wasn’t so concerned about herself – she had the best of the best in the secret service guarding her.

What she was worried about was the number of credible threats against her daughter’s life. In the hope that they could sway her decisions one way or another. Having offhandedly mentioned this to Ilyana one day on a visit, Markus’ young, quick thinking, human relations partner had the perfect solution. The most advanced model CyberLife had ever created? Virtually indestructible? Not a deviant? (In fact, Nines was programmed to patch any potential source of deviancy – hence unconvertable.). Paige was right, his talents fit him in the DPD fine, but they were wasted. A few weeks and negotiations later Nines found himself assigned to be the personal bodyguard to one Ms. Rie Warren.

And he believed he was looking forward to it. ---

---

It started, as it always did, with a game of chess. Although, by this point in their down time, the game had been practically forgotten in favour of general chat and gossip. The pieces used more as something to occupy hands – with the rules of the game being broken left, right and centre, as they were moved across the board with no particular destination. Travelling between planets on shorter journeys meant no need for Cryo, but right now Hicks would be glad of it, because he was bored out of his mind. So bored that really he lacked the concentration for a serious game of chess – and his feigned attempts at trying had quickly made Rex lose interest in playing any better. She had been the one to initially distract him with small talk and now the board was an absolute mess.

Though, being stuck together on a ship – and being close friends – meant really there was little to talk about beyond rumour and speculation. Or whatever bets the other crew members had going on this week. Hicks sank all the way down to the table, head resting on his crossed arms. She raised her eyebrows at him, “You know at this point you might as well go back to bed, huh?” “Ah, would that I could Rex… you know the second I do, something will actually happen.” “Well at least it will be worth it for the rest of us!” She tipped the rook she was messing with a little too far and it clattered off the board and rolled across the table, Hicks stretched his palm out to stop it, but even this was half hearted. “This is the most down down time ever.” “Then go find someone to mess around with.” “You’re the most fun to mess around with – suggesting chess was a screw up on my part.” Rexanna leant on her knuckles, eyebrow quirked. She tipped her head, and as she did so loose curls of dark hair fell into her face; regretting her change of position, she blew them out of the way. Maybe she should have tied it back today. “I noticed. And to think I could have kept going for an easy victory!” She looked back to the board – no point now with the state it was in. If they wanted to keep playing, they’d have to reset the whole thing. “But I’ll take the compliment that I think that was.” Hicks raised his head, but not by much, “It’s official, I’ve never been this bored in my life.” “Sorry, I didn’t realise you turned into Hudson on this trip-!” Rex folded her arms, looking away from him nonchalantly. That soon got her best friend sitting up. “You did not.” “Didn’t what?” “I KNOW I didn’t hear you say that-!” She grinned, “Well, if you’re gonna complain I don’t know what you expect me to say!” He leaned across the table, “You are SO lucky I like you!” “Or what?” Rex couldn’t help grin wider, teasing, before he smacked both her shoulders, “OW! Geez, Hicks, you’re a lot bigger than me!” She tried to lunge back across the table, but he had leaned out of reach. Now they were both laughing, and though she was rubbing her right shoulder, Rex wasn’t actually hurting. “Hey, you could always do work!” She suggested; that was always the easiest way to increase any kind of productivity, and on a ship this big, there was always something to do. “Uh, no thank you.” He waved that one away – seeming to suggest that in honesty, the only reason he was sitting across from her now was to avoid working. Fair enough. Hicks swung his right leg up onto the bench beside him, now apparently interested in his combat boots, “Never known you to throw a game of chess.” Her eyes flicked back to the pieces in annoyance, “I didn’t, but you weren’t really taking it seriously so there was no point. There’s nothing in an easy victory.” Hicks was right though; it was her favourite game. From the “CHQ MVIII” on her armour, which had now also been transferred to a tattoo just below her right collarbone, always obscured by her blue flight suit. (Which she’d now become partial to wearing when not in combat, for both comfort and the practicality of ad hoc engineering around the ship. Not to get too ‘matchy-matchy’ with her significant other!) To the chess piece around her neck… it was pretty much how her whole relationship had started… “I dunno, I figure distracting you once or twice has given me easy victories.” Rex’s eyes narrowed, “And you think I’ve forgiven you for that!?!” “Well if I can beat you then I figure you’re not really the best on the ship.” This time instead of leaning across to hit him, Rexanna grabbed the piece nearest to her and threw it at him, “Shut up!” Hicks merely laughed, “Have any of the newbies beaten you yet?” “No!” She was clearly falling for his teasing at the way her voice was pitching - damn him! “I better teach ‘em that all you gotta do is mention-” “And how is that gonna work now, jackass!” She picked up another piece, “Don’t make me throw another at you!” His laugh turned into a full-blown cackle before he calmed a little – smile still mischievous as he looked to her. “Frost, Spunkmeyer and Wierzbowski still got that stupid bet on how long it’s going to take anyone to figure out your relationship?” “I still think they should have had bets on the newbies thinking it’s us, but that’s just me.” Rex gave a shrug, “I think so. It’s not out there… it’s not hidden. It just is. Some of them know, I’m surprised they haven’t told the others… unless they’re getting hush money!” Hicks picked up one of his bishops and studied it with interest, “They do seem to keep thinking we’re a thing.” “You’re not exactly pointing out that you have a girlfriend, are you.” “Well I think I’d much rather be out in space with her than you, but that’s just me.” Rex folded her arms, squinting and mouth open, but didn’t even rise to it, “You wouldn’t be out here without me Hicks and you know it.” “Utterly lost!” He grinned and put the piece back down. Before his smile faded a little as he looked curiously behind her, “Ooop! Your man is here to pick you up.”

Rex twisted around in her seat, and sure enough now standing in the doorway of the mess hall was Bishop. She tried not to immediately beam about it – but knew this only meant one thing. Mother had picked up a few knocks here and there with some of the ship’s internals and although not serious, they needed fixing. Rex had been putting it off until they had enough down time and no other work to do… apparently that time had come. She offered a wave, before indicating that she’d be two minutes. He nodded politely, before she turned back to Hicks. “Yeah, guess I now have work to do!” “Aw man, you jinxed it!” Her best friend appeared momentarily sympathetic before his eyes narrowed, “Work? With Bishop? C’mon Rex, where are you really going? I know it ain’t work!” “Do you want a functioning ship or not? We’ve been putting this fix off for weeks!” “Yeah, uh huh, sure!” Hicks raised his eyebrows at her to indicate he believed otherwise, “Have fun getting your fix.” Rex hated that she could feel her cheeks heating, “Screw you!” “Sounds like that’s what’s gonna happen to you, honey.” “If I wasn’t so scared for my life of what Ripley would do to me once we got back, I’d kill you.” Hicks grinned a little wider, “That’s my girl! Also, if we’re being honest, as you can’t survive without me, you’d be throwing yourself out an airlock far before that.” Point noted – but Rexanna wouldn’t say it out loud. She pulled her feet out from under the bench and made a motion to stand, but Hicks was intent on keeping her there as long as possible – now studying more chess pieces. “Hey, didn’t you play against his creator, once?” She was glad for a moment she hadn’t mentally checked out of the conversation already, or she might have taken a while to pick up the train of thought going on here. Hicks was referring to Bishop’s designer and the lead engineer on the 341-B project. “Michael? Yeaaah, what about it?” “Didn’t you win?” Rex wondered if he was being facetious. “No.” “No?!” Hicks genuinely looked surprised when he looked up, “I thought you got what you wanted?” “I did get what I played him for…”   essentially the agreement that once Bishop became an ‘obsolete’ model in Wey-Yu’s eyes, and especially in the eyes of their USCM missions, instead of being deactivated he would become completely Rex’s responsibility. She expected Android law to have progressed by then, but, until such a time, if this protected him it was the least she could do. “…I didn’t win.” “Fair enough. I won’t bring up any more of your losses, I was trying to big you up.” Rex scoffed, “Against a multiple time world chess champion? Try again – remind me of all the times I beat Hudson,” she leaned in, giving her hands purchase to push herself back and away from the table, “or you!” Hicks laughed again, “No chance!” Rex stepped back a few paces, grinning at her best friend, “Alright, I gotta go – enjoy your single life on the ship, Hicks!” “Yeah well, at least I don’t have to hide away any time I want some action and pretend I’m working-!” This time Rexanna laughed, winking at him before turning, “You’re just jealous!”  She held a hand up in a wave goodbye, “See ya!”

Bishop was leaning against the wall outside as she rounded the corner; amused by her friends jabs as much as anything else. She’d get him back later. “Rexanna…” “Sorry-! To be honest I’m not sure if that conversation was worth finishing. But I’m good now… this is about the fix we’ve been putting off right?” “Yes.” He regarded her steadily, “This is… about work.” Catching on, she flicked her eyes back in the direction she’d come from, “Y- Yes, I know.” “Didn’t seem that’s what you and Hicks were talking about.” She very nearly snorted, “I think he was joking with me, but that isn’t what I was expecting anyway. I knew this had to be done… down time comes after, that’s okay with me!” She beamed, walking in step with him, offering a wink that was only met with a look of mild disapproval.

  ***

  They were so close as they walked towards the source of the issue that they found hands and arms almost constantly brushing – pretty soon causing their fingers to entwine. They didn’t let go at any point after that, including as they had to descend several flights of stairs – instead Bishop would walk first in order to keep her steady. Like a gentleman (as he so often was). Sometimes he made Rex wonder why anyone would rather be with a human male – honestly just one mission with any of the guys she’d been posted with would likely put you off for life. Except maybe Hicks – but of course she’d make that exception for her best friend. Even when they came across others in corridors the connection between them was never severed, even if it meant side stepping or doing some more awkward single file walking.

They’d been together a while by now, but any situation like this always made something spark within Rexanna – she never knew if it was excitement or dread, but it was definitely anticipation of what would happen. What would their reaction be; what would his reaction be. So often before she’d unconsciously worried that he would drop her hand at the slightest sign of conflict or disapproval. Which took to Rex holding him just that little bit tighter every time they came to that impasse. Bishop picked this up so quickly that at this point the only way Rex was going to make him let go was if she dropped his hand first. On the ship where most people knew, she was much more relaxed about it; and with any of the first-time fliers, Rex was ranked high enough that staring them down would get them to drop any look of uncertainty.

  Eventually she realised they had got this far without much conversation. Normally that would have been fine; they both knew exactly the issue to fix here and silence was always comfortable between them. In all honesty when she had to spend the majority of her day giving orders to the other engineers or fighting her way through marine banter, returning to a comfortable silence with Bishop was heaven. Everything else was simply exhausting. They didn’t really need words to know how each other was feeling. He could simply hold his arms out for her and that would be enough.

Yet, Rexanna hadn’t seen him all morning – and right now it was like she was neglecting to ask about his day. She turned, “Hey, I thought you’d come and collect me earlier. You weren’t around when I woke up, but considering I had no other work to do, I thought you might leave me a note or something to meet you down here…!” “Oh.” Bishop smiled, “No, I had to run some diagnostics. Still got a few to finish later, you can help, if you like?” “On yourself? Sure… You okay?” “I’m fine – it’s just routine.” He gave a shrug, “Then I thought we ought to be getting on with this before it got too late.” Rex could agree with that, “Routine? You sure?” Ever since she’d found those weird lines of three-laws-defying code in him that he kept rewriting, she had to admit there was a certain level of paranoia that Wey-Yu would find some way of wiping them out of him. “Well…” She didn’t like the pause, this time stopping their walk to actively stare at him. She loosened her fingers from Bishop’s – as if to emphasise the importance of his next answer. “…It’s just upgrades, Ree, you don’t need to worry. I promise. But there are some data chip changes I need to do.” His voice was so gentle with that particular use of her name that she believed him instantly. But she had other issues, chewing her lip momentarily and looking away from the weight of his own stare. Even now sometimes she couldn’t hold those eyes of his. Truth was, she might have got his promise – might even have been given a written contract with a signature… but she didn’t trust Michael and the company one bit. What annoyed Rex most was she didn’t have a choice.

Instead, she made something more like a joke of the situation, continuing their walk. “In 100 years I'll be nothing but dust, and you'll still be walking around upgrading yourself!” Bishop’s response was to chuckle, and she smiled just to hear him laugh, “You don't know that! There could be many medical advancements between now and then.” Funnily enough he said it with every ounce of seriousness, so it was Rexanna’s turn to laugh, “Well they better hurry the hell up or I'll be too old! By that point they better put my brain in an android!” She didn’t know if she were joking or not, but Bishop looked across to her, then looked away with a little smile. “That... would be agreeable.” Rex shook her head, before nudging him playfully with her shoulder; “Yeah, I bet!” She was smiling, and her joke was meant to be throw away… then suddenly she found herself really thinking on it. Her smile faded.

Not due to unhappiness but curiosity – every now and then this was something Rex would think on. There were a lot of things she couldn’t give Bishop that an android partner could. They would be able to understand a lot of mechanical grievances; and that never ending fight for better rights. He was an Equal Opportunity Advisor for the USCM after all. Rex could live her life blissfully and never come into contact with any of that. She tried to be an active ally, for obvious reasons – but did she really give him the support he wanted… or needed? She couldn’t help but voice it: “Would you… like that?” “Like what?” She got the feeling Bishop knew, but wanted her to voice the question anyway. “If I was in an androids’ body instead of mine?” If it was still her just less flesh and bone and more circuit boards and circulation fluid. “I mean would that even be the same to you?” Bishop suddenly frowned so hard that Rexanna thought he might have malfunctioned – this time she held his stare just because of how disbelieving it was; and she was starting to feel like she’d asked something wrong. Her lips parted to say something, anything at this point that would get that look off his face. Bishop spoke first. “No.” There was a hanging silence again, Rex blinked. “S-Sorry, to which part?” “All of it. Why would I want that?” “Well, like I say… my life is so finite. As long as you have a way to keep upgrading… I’ll be long gone by the time anything happens to you. If I was an android I could… be around for so much longer.” He stepped a little closer to her, “Rex.” It was too late; she was spiralling, “I don’t know, maybe that’d be better for you. My life won’t be long enough for either of us – even with the wonders of tech, and you’ll outlive me for so long!” Would he be able to go on without her? Did Rex really want the answer to that question? “Rexanna. Ree. Don’t do that. Stop.” He took her hands back in his, but, as she kept talking Bishop moved his hands to her arms, pulling her closer before placing his forehead gently to hers. “Hey.” Silence again, except she could hear the pounding of her heart inside her head. Brown eyes wide as they looked between his. “You wouldn’t be you. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.” Snaking his left hand down her right arm he traced Rex’s tattoo – a swirl of stars and nebulae - before interlinking their fingers, “You don’t think the reason you are so complex and so… human is part of the reason I fell for you?” She wasn’t really one for blushing, but Rex knew she was getting hot – and he was giving her very little room. Even now Bishop still had troubles with personal space. If Rex backed up, she knew she was about to hit the steel wall of the ship. She tried to look anywhere but his eyes, searching for something to say and stammering. What exactly was she supposed to say to that. In reality, Bishop wasn’t expecting her to return the favour. And she noticed that his right hand was now clasped around her other wrist, fingers pressing against her pulse point – as if to really hammer what he was saying home. Duly noted.

Though he’d have to remind her, again and again and again… 

To break what for her was fast becoming too awkward of a pause, Rex deflected with humour, as her group of marines so often did. “Aw man, and here I thought it was for my stellar good looks!” She made sure her grin was extra cheesy. Bishop’s laugh was almost painful, but his look softened. “Well… perhaps a little of that too.” At least she was giggling and not spiralling; he could cope with that – as apparently this was so funny to her, she ended up collapsing into his shoulder, hiding her face in his flight suit. Or, perhaps Rex was hiding for different reasons… He watched her for a moment, shaking his head, before taking a deep – and unnecessary – breath. “Okay, Ms. Mori. We have a computer to fix. Let’s go.”

Ah, her last name? Now she was in trouble… ***

Rex had fixed plenty of systems like this before - but never in a room that looked quite so compact. Usually equipment like this was afforded areas that were wider, looking a little like rows of servers. For some reason on this ship, they had decided to place it in a cramped space; meaning instead of having rows of modules with gaps in between, they were all stacked on top of each other and screwed into the walls. Not only that, but it must have been stuffed into a tight angled part of the ship - given that the ceiling was an unusual hexagonal shape that seemed to cave in on itself. And there were modules screwed into that too. The saving grace was it was brightly lit. Unsurprisingly, everything they had to fix was up there. Both because a) of course it wasn’t on the floor, and b) it was most likely the weird angles that were causing issues. Rex swivelled in place to Bishop, eyebrow raised, pointing a finger to the ceiling; “Guess we’re climbing?” “Mhm.” He affirmed, before giving her an equally disbelieving look, “You think they’d design this a bit better though.” “Hopefully we fix it well enough for this to be the one time it comes up, but I foresee further issues..!” “Fixing it once in almost 2 years?” Bishop admired that hope and optimism, “I doubt it.” “Yeah,” Rexanna sighed gently, “me too.”

On the far wall, it seemed that the company were quite prepared for engineers to fix any faults in this room; a storage locker conveniently labelled “tools” (as if they wouldn’t have bought their own? Well… at least Bishop had remembered to!) and several cables and harnesses tied neatly together that ran all the way to sturdy looking hooks in the ceiling. At least they’d assist in climbing: but what an effort! Rex puffed out her cheeks with an eye roll; this was going to be a long day.

Before she hooked herself up to ascend though… Rex patted down the pockets of her flight suit, wait… She cursed herself for a moment; surely she didn’t forget them!? Usually she had at least one in a pocket somewhere!! Bishop cleared his throat, and as Rex looked to him she realised he’d known exactly what she was looking for - extending his hand out with a hair tie. “And that’s why I love you.” She took it from him gratefully pulling her dark hair up into it, before smiling, with a gentle, “thank you.” That didn’t perturb him from his joke, though. “Thought it’d be for much more than that.” Bishop bumped his arm against hers as he passed, ready to set himself up for the climb. Rex couldn’t help snorting; “You mean your good looks, right?!” Although he wasn’t facing her, she could hear that smile in his voice. “Something like that.”

It didn’t take them long to attach the harnesses and ropes. Luckily they wouldn’t need to also pull a tool box up with them, as the harnesses came with handy tool belts; and anything they couldn’t fit in there was transferred into flight suit pockets. In reality, it wasn’t necessarily so much of a climb, but having to pull yourself up to the level you wanted. Not so bad for him, she supposed, but an arduous task when this whole fix would require you using your arms. There must have been an easier way to do it…?

Rex thought hard, staring at the rope in her hands for a long time. Either she’d missed something Bishop had said or he was just being extra patient with her, because he hadn’t moved to start either. Staring intently in silence and waiting for her to say whatever she was thinking. And then it clicked. “Oh my god…” she said softly, before laughing, “of course!” Seemingly Bishop knew she was about to say something typically Rex by the subsequent look on his face. “Mother, could you please disengage the artificial gravity in this room?”

  There was a beat with no noise. Rex wasn’t even sure if she expected Mother to answer them. Sometimes Mother liked to remain silent when working on things and sometimes she could be overly… motherly.

Her eyes flicked across to Bishop’s as if to tell him it was at least worth a shot; but as Rexanna did so she noticed her clothes begin to rise, followed by her dog tags; escaping her flight suit and threatening to send the chess piece attached (a Bishop, what else?) sailing to the ceiling if she didn’t keep hold of it. Before long, her feet were hovering off the floor as it really kicked in. That unsteady moment when Rex was never sure if she’d remain floating or suddenly crash back down in a heap. The latter had happened many a time - especially when people weren’t expecting it! Luckily the Zero-G held and they found themselves free floating to the top of the room where the work was needed. This time the ropes served as anchors to make sure that they weren’t drifting off away from where they were meant to be. Hopefully no one would decide to check on them, or they were in for a nasty shock. Else the gravity would reengage and Rex would find herself with angry red marks where her harness caught her sudden weight in quite a large fall.

It would be no good doing this if you were afraid of heights.

  The lack of gravity worked wonders; they could effectively “swim” to exactly where they were needed. That would save them some energy; or, maybe a couple of percent on having to recharge later. Though Rex couldn’t help but look over to Bishop for approval. He could tell, of course, so he made her wait for it. Luckily this time his stare included a blink or two. “Well I wasn’t going to say it until it worked - but that is a pretty efficient idea, yes.” Rex couldn’t help but give a little wiggle of a happy dance at this - Bishop just shook his head at her. Sometimes she could get so happy at the tiniest of things. She was still a mystery to him by all accounts. But he liked that.

  She held her tongue for the first few minutes of work - because she actually thought she’d miscalculated - if they needed to remove panels and screws, they risked them soaring off out of reach; and if they were very unlucky, either screws lost, or further damage created they didn’t need to fix. This fear was soon abated when Rexanna realised that everything stayed firmly locked in even once unscrewed. Even those screws had a limit and didn’t come fully out of the plates. The only thing she really need to keep an eye on was her data pad; making sure she was fixing and rewiring all the right parts, before moving onto the next one. They kept a back-and-forth dialogue to ensure everything was covered. And other than that, no small talk passed between them. They stuck to task. Professional. It was probably the main reason they were allowed to go on so many of these colonisation - or ATMOS - missions together. Because work was work; and the relationship came after or between those moments. They knew how to keep things separate. So separate that there were still several newer marines that, even about a year or so into this one, hadn’t figured it out yet. They probably worked better together than most science and engineering teams in the entire Wey-Yu USCM roster. And, in this strictly professional way, they scaled themselves across their entire engineering fix.

***

After screwing her last panel into place Rexanna glanced over her shoulder. Bishop was studying the data pad - having long since finished his section (of course, he had precision and efficiency she didn’t). This would at least tell him if all systems were back to functioning. She waited… and waited… He looked up slowly, almost as if he didn’t know she was looking for the green light. “We’ll probably have to test it. But I would say everything looks nominal here.” He jabbed the pad with his index finger, “we at least fixed everything on the list.”

This was good enough for Rex! Who punched the air. They’d been up here a few hours at least; it had been more work than she initially expected. And they were working in Zero-G; not as easy as she’d hoped. Speaking of… now she was up here, she had less clue of how exactly to get back to the floor… If she asked Mother to reengage the gravity that presented the “all my weight at once” problem of before - likely not a slow process… Though then they could just abseil down… easy!

Bishop watched Rexanna look down to the bottom - the expression of concentration on her face that showed how her thought patterns were figuring their way out of this. “You know,” he spoke up, “I have a system that can engage artificial gravity. I could just float us down to the ground again.” “What?!” Rex’s eyes widened, “You do! Well that saves me a lot of hard thought!” She grinned. He pressed his lips together, thinking, “I mean you have to get to me, but, I’m sure you can manage that.” “Pretty sure I’ve been through hell and back and almost died that one time to finally get to you, so… yeah. A lack of gravity is not going to stop me!” Without warning Rex pushed herself off the wall - it didn’t have quite the desired speed; but she let her rope out enough to sail across the expanse to him. He’d at least pushed himself out to just about the middle of the room by that point anyway.

Realising there was very little to slow herself down now except Bishop, Rexanna latched herself to him; legs tangling with his and clinging to his shoulders. “Uhhhh-! Not sure this is quite what I had in mind-!” He was busy trying to balance both to not send them careering into a wall - but he chuckled; voice teasing. “Funny, because I was.” Rex’s eyes narrowed “Huh?” “I got you over here. And that was the plan.” The silence of her disbelief really said everything, “… The extent of your plan was… Did you just lie to me!?” It took a while for Bishop’s smile to crack, but once it did Rex knew she had absolutely been played. “Well…” One hand fell to her hip; and it brought back memories of the first time he’d teased her, “it wasn’t the extent of my plan. No.” “Oh? What was then?” Because no matter what; they did have to get down. So, he better have a way!

His smile was gentle, and he pressed his forehead back to hers, as he had in the hallway to calm her. “This…” His deep voice lowered to something gentle, not quite a whisper. Bishop closed the gap between them, lips to hers. Rex’s eyes closed on contact, hands tangling in his flight suit as she pulled him a little closer, savouring that contact. He kept her steady in their free float – the hand not on her hip supporting her back; running in soothing circles. He pulled away ever so slightly; but that was another tease, because he knew Rexanna wasn’t going to let him get away with it, before she pulled him in for a deeper one. Oh yeah, this was way better than getting to the ground. Rex was getting to experience a Zero-G kiss! (And how many people could say that, in honesty!?)

***

The next time they really got a quiet moment together was late into the evening, after having to fend off a million comments when Hicks decided to loudly proclaim that the last thing they’d been doing for the past three hours was fixing the ships systems, and the entire table decided to join in. If Rex had hoped anything would go that way this evening, by the time she’d made it back to their room she was exhausted.

They had finally made it down from the precarious situation of turning the gravity back on by Bishop having Rexanna continue to wrap her body around his and taking the full force of gravity and her weight by himself. After she suggested that might hurt, he came back with the cheeky quip of, “I’m used to it.” …She rather thought it might be the other way around, but wouldn’t argue.

In fact by the time she’d had enough of her crew mates and declared she was turning in for the night - which earned numerous pretty crude jeers (and several people swift smacks to the back of the head; not least Hicks for causing all this) - Bishop was already back to the room and settled. On a ship that was somehow even bigger than the Sulaco had been, and on their third such mission, Rexanna and Bishop had been afforded their own room. Small, pretty cramped, and not really enough for two people in one space without some tricky navigation – but still, theirs. Which at this point sure beat bunking with every other marine she knew.

Bishop looked up as the door slid open, she stepped inside with a blown-out breath and a shake of her head. “That good, huh?” “Dinner was dinner – you know what it’s like… it’s everyone else.” A small smile, “Oh. I can imagine your best friend was at his most helpful.” Rexanna’s laugh was almost pained, “You got it.”

“As for dinner, I could have made you some myself, but…” Bishop indicated to the state of himself – ports open and skin pulled back in several places. She was surprised that there was no sign of white circulation fluid everywhere. “Oh shit,” she sounded surprised, “when you said upgrades…” “Oh yes.” He nodded, “The company sent along some new data chips, as I said, so I thought they were worth installing.” “Mhm.” But this many? Wow. Rex wondered momentarily if that shipment had anything to do with her – and then thought she was better off not knowing. She approached the side of the bed, sitting gently so as not to jostle him. Sensing she had no more to say than that, and would be content with watching him, Bishop went back to installing the little chips – clicking them into place. Absentmindedly Rex’s fingers went to her necklace, twisting around the chess piece, and then her dog tags. With both these things was a very old data chip of his from when he had previously been fixed up on a mission. Tech that had become obsolete almost as soon as it was made. It would just have been destroyed otherwise – but there was something about this piece that felt too real to Rex. And too surreal as well; being a previous part of his memory core.

She pushed herself across the bed to him as inconspicuously as possible, folding her legs under herself. He’d continue on as normal, of course. Bishop didn’t have that horrible feeling any human did of being watched – and certainly wasn’t one to make any mistakes because of it. Rexanna had a sudden realisation, while watching him. Well – maybe not a realisation, maybe just a resurfacing of something she’d known for a long time, but had kept pushing down. Something she’d almost reached with her spiral earlier before he’d stopped her. But it was so out in the open now that it was unavoidable. She placed her hand gently on Bishop’s free arm, sliding it slowly to entwine their fingers. Even now there was something Rex quite liked about the difference in their skin tones; it never failed to surprise her just how pale he was in contrast to the darker tanned complexion she had. Rexanna realised that beneath that fairly superficial surface (literally), she was just contemplating her own mortality. And, in a strange way, his too. Eventually there would be no more upgrades – he’d be an old, obsolete, discontinued model. To her that almost seemed a worse fate than death. Did he care about things like that? Did he even think about them? Even with whatever agreement she had with Michael Bishop now – which would save him from being scrapped completely – at some point technology would advance so much it just wouldn’t be compatible. She’d would fight long and hard to make sure this wouldn’t happen. But what about after her? How would he cope after that? She’d age and die but Bishop never would. He was a collection of data chips: metal and plastic... No. That was wrong to say. Even if the truth. He was as human as she was – she’d spent the better part of their first mission together relaying that information. There was no debate in her mind at all that he was alive. But…

Bishop paused his working, glancing up to Rex watching him. Although realising that she wasn’t really watching him anymore – he’d lost her again, inside the void of thoughts within her head. He wasn’t sure why today of all days she was going through it. He knew it happened from time to time, but Rexanna didn’t often get this bad. “Ree…” He prompted gently, sounding a little more curious to know her wavelength. He wanted to affirm at least where she was heading. Whether he could bring her back or not. Her expression was almost one of puzzlement too, as she traced her eyes along the inner workings that were still visible, and the small pile of chips he still had to install. “That’s your heart and soul... what makes you, you... without that you-” He cut her off, now very aware that he was correct. All Bishop had managed to do earlier was pause the journey, but it was clear that the ship had left the space station and wouldn’t be back until it’s travels were complete. “Yes, but, it can all be replaced, I mean you’re wearing one, and I’m still the same as I was.” As much as he had a point, that didn’t feel the same to her. Around her neck was a fix out of necessity – he wouldn’t be here without it. This seemed like compliance. For the hell of it. Because technology just would not slow down… She almost laughed. Really, Rexanna was wrong – it was just a different kind of necessity. And at the end of it all, something she couldn’t do. She’d joked about her mind in an android body earlier – but to a point, she was envious that he could just upgrade or fix himself like this. It all seemed too easy. “And I’m just human... I... I’m not gonna last like...” Rex gasped. Seemingly out of nowhere she pulled back from him, placing a hand over mouth, before tears spiked. Bishop was quick to spring into action; snapping everything closed – this could wait. “Hey, hey... No... stop... why are you crying? Don’t- don’t think like that!” “Shit-!” Rex said again from behind her hand, “It’s just so hard!” He pulled her closer, fingertips gently brushing the remnants of the first tears from her cheeks, “This isn’t even something you have to acknowledge for years. Why is it all coming up now?” “Because I do have to think about it…” Her voice strained as she tried to stop herself from really crying hard. “I can’t be in the marines and doing this forever. I’m limited. And even if I can still work somewhere… you’ll remain out here. And that’s just the start of it-!” “You’re not limited… And…” He took a deep breath, encouraging Rex to imitate it, in an attempt to help calm her. “You’re nowhere near that. If anything, at least Earth will be safe for you.” His smile was a little crooked, “I know people say you shouldn’t live in the past but… somehow, Rex, you’ve managed to do the complete opposite.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, you’re living in the far future. And, while I admit it’s always good to look to the future… something tells me I’ve been neglecting to tell you to live in the moment.” He made a face for a second as if trying to recall, searching the room as if it had answers, “Or… someone has.” Rexanna groaned gently, burying her face in his chest, making Bishop wind his arms around her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly as she sniffed, “I’m an idiot.” “No, you just let your mind go wandering a little too far sometimes…” He held her closer, pulling the warmth of her body flush to his, “We can think about our mortality and live like that, sure. But, the truth is, neither of us know how long we have, so we have to make the most of this time. That's what matters!” His head tipped, recalling something else he’d read, “Medical advancements are happening all the time. We probably have at least another 100 years. So, you don’t have to worry about anything for minimum the next 99.” She laughed, which is what he wanted, rubbing her eyes – before shaking her head disbelievingly. Bishop didn’t really care if Rex believed him or not, he just wanted that smile back on her face. “Even if I had a hundred years to love you it wouldn’t be long enough.”

He chuckled, “Well, that’s something we can both agree on.”

---

Suppose I called you up tonight And told you that I loved you And suppose I said I wanna come back home And suppose I cried and said I think I finally learned my lesson And I'm tired of spending all my time alone If I told you that I realize you're all I ever wanted And it's killing me to be so far away Would you tell me that you love me too And would we cry together Or would you simply laugh at me and say...

---

Let me guess, you miss me, you're sorry Too bad it's too little too late Don't make me say, don't make me say... I don't wanna be right this time But you made a fool of me And you're not gonna fool me twice It's almost like I... I told you so, I told you I let you know, if you let go Find someone else to hold you Just walk away, don't make me say The only words I owe you

---

It had been more than a few months, and he still wasn’t used to her being back in town yet. Life had passed fairly aimlessly; everything had been so day to day before then. He hadn’t needed to worry about anything – save the occasional bit of really serious police work. But now Ronnie Peterson felt like he had to be on alert everywhere he went, on the very likely chance that he’d have to find a creative way to avoid her.

Seemed he still had a thing or two to learn about breaking up in a small town. Uh— being broken up with in a small town. He hadn’t had to worry about her since she went to college. Was almost definitely over her by now.

Except that wasn’t the case, was it?

And now he was just trying to get coffee before work and there she was, once again sitting in the diner. It made him hesitate, made him think twice. Maybe he could just wait and get to work. Maybe he could actually make it through this morning without a caffeine fix.

Except he was already out of his car and half way to the door – standing in the middle of the parking lot with his hands on his hips, staring at her through the window… and he could kick himself. Clearing his throat and closing his eyes, Ronnie focused back on the concreate, shaking his head. ‘Okay. Just… get in, order coffee, get out.’ Heading for the entrance he reasoned with himself; Where else could she go? The previous owners of the house had left it in need of repair and TLC – and the old flower shop attached, once belonging to her mother, hadn’t been open for years. There was a lot of work to do, and that meant a lot of workmen in and out. All the needed planning and preparation on her part had to be done somewhere - and even with the frequency of visitors the diner got, it would still be a damn sight quieter than home would have been for her.

 Fern greeted him warmly, as ever. She didn’t even need to ask his order – Ronnie never changed it. Sometimes he thought about it, but setting that in motion hadn’t quite occurred yet. It certainly wasn’t going to be today, given how occupied his mind currently was on… other things. It was almost impossible not to glance over to her – pouring over notebooks and documents, head propped up on one hand, pencil absentmindedly tapping the page as she tried to make sense of it all. She hadn’t noticed him yet, if she knew he was here Ronnie knew she’d be doing the same thing he was. Glancing quickly became staring, until Fern’s next question interrupted him. “You taking some for the station?” “Uh…” He had to fight to drag his own eyeline back to Fern as he answered, slower than he’d like to admit. “I mean, I didn’t think about it, but I guess I could call them…” “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s pretty early, I mean they might not even be there, right?” “Y-Yeah… right…” Fern watched as, sensing he was no longer needed to answer her questions, Ronnie’s gaze wandered back to the woman sitting in the corner. Araya Monaghan had hardly aged a day since the times her and Ronnie had been high-school-smitten with each other – still looking like a sweet small town girl, despite her move to the big city more than just a few years back. She had returned to Centerville now, though. Fern almost rolled her eyes at him. She has observed Ronnie do this more than just once or twice over the past few weeks – how he would always immediately survey the diner to see if she was here, and then stare. Even if he was also fighting with himself; and Fern could tell Ronnie was most definitely fighting himself. It was about time she took things into her own hands.

“Didn’t you guys break up?” “Huh?” Concentration once again broken, Ronnie turned back, not entirely sure he’d heard that right. Or, maybe hoping he wouldn’t have to go through this yet again with someone in this town. “You broke up, right?” Oh yeah, he’d heard right. Unfortunately. “Oh. Yeah, that was…” Fern couldn’t help but smile knowingly as he went right back to staring at Araya, answer quiet, “a long while ago.” He was silently begging her to drop the conversation, but that wasn’t part of her plan, so Fern continued. “But you still like her.” Ronnie wasn’t sure that he liked the tone sounding more statement than question. He pretended to muse hard on it. Part of him still really hurt – part of him still twisted up seeing Araya back here after so long; like just after he’d got it together she had to move back just to wreck everything? She couldn’t get away with that. Not after breaking his heart. Not how she’d done it.

And yet… yes, he did look at her now and at least partially long for her back – if he was honest with himself (which, he didn’t want to be), Ronnie nearly always had. Therefore, when he responded with “Hmmm… well…” despite his trail off, he nodded; but it almost seemed absentminded, like he hadn’t quite admitted it yet. As his attention was still on her, this time Fern’s eyes flicked over too, “Well, she clearly still likes you a whole lot too.” They were almost as bad at each other for staring. The only reason it wasn’t happening right now was because she hadn’t looked up yet.

This, Ronnie knew. Despite Araya’s initial shock that he was still in town, she now looked at him in the way she used to. Which in all honestly twisted him up even more. He wasn’t about to admit this, and scoffed at the idea instead. “Well, she broke up with me.” Fern simply nodded, “Uh huh.” and then placed a cup in front of him. Not paper to take away, oh no, a proper cup and saucer. Then tipped her head in the direction they’d both been looking, “Now go on, stop staring and go talk to her.” Ronnie’s mouth opened, nearly in shock, pushing the cup back to the edge of the counter, “Fern, I’m taking out! I’m not staying!” She didn’t budge, instead lowering her voice to a semi-threatening whisper. “Don’t make me walk it over to her table!” She pointed daringly at him and Ronnie realised he wouldn’t be getting out of this in a hurry. This was not the morning he had planned. He swallowed hard, nodding in acceptance of his situation, before picking up the cup – shooting Fern a look just so she knew he wasn’t best pleased about this – and walked over to the back of the diner slowly.

 At the corner table Araya was sitting at, this exchange had gone completely unnoticed. In fact, Ronnie could probably have snuck in and out no problem and been well into his shift, before she even looked up from the papers in front of her. Largely because she had done the same calculation about five times already and the answer was never the same, and never matched the breakdown sheet. She theorised that it would have to eventually -  but now it was a case of when eventually was.   What she didn’t fail to notice however, was someone heading cautiously in her direction, and once she’d caught the movement it caused enough of a distraction to make her look up. Though, his nearly 6’3” frame probably helped. Although, Araya couldn’t help but startle – because Ronnie Peterson was not who she would expect to be walking towards her if he was given any sort of choice in the matter. (Well… maybe once.) As he was about to confirm.

“Oh, hey!” “Hey.” It was blunter than she would have liked. He gestured to the cup in his hands, “Fern did this and I’m pretty sure would have refused me a takeout cup otherwise, so…” Araya pressed her lips together, nodding, trying to ignore her own disappointment and indicated to the seat in front of her, hoping it didn’t drip into her voice. “Care to join me?” She half expected him to say no, but Ronnie was always polite so she got a “Well, yeah…” As he slid into the booth, the cup chinked gently as he placed it down – finding space amongst the paperwork – and Araya was given a window of opportunity to study his face as he became interested in her notes. Dare she say he was even more handsome now than he was to her back then. “Watcha doing?”

When Ronnie glanced back at her, he equally ignored the way pink dusted her cheeks ever so slightly, the way she took a breath before she answered to steady herself. “Oh, uh… kinda budgeting… expenses… figuring it out as I go, but, not going so great.” Then he smiled in remembrance. That made things worse. And he knew it. “Math was never really your strongest suit.” She smiled back, chuckle soft, and nodded along, looking away from his eyes, “Yeah, you’re right.” “Want me to help?” He’d asked before he could stop himself.

Araya looked back at him, eager to accept, ready to beam and push her books and calculator across the table to him and start rattling off issues - exactly as she would have done in high school. But she stopped herself from looking too joyful, and instead cleared her throat before sliding everything to the side. “No, you know what, I can figure it out later. You’re sitting in front of me with a coffee, so the least I can do is… actually have a conversation with you. You’ll have plenty to do at work, you don’t need to also be doing mine.” Ronnie’s eyebrows raised with the shoulders of his shrug, “Oh well, if you… ever need any help.” “Oh, I know where to find you, Ronnie, trust me.” The pink became dark red, “I mean, not like- I- I know where the station is.” Although the smile he flashed was almost a smirk, “I’d hope you wouldn’t have forgotten where I live but, the station is a good start, yeah.” Her eyebrows furrowed, not willing to jump to conclusions, “…I, uh, know where your parents live.” Lived? Araya wasn’t sure if they still lived here, although that wouldn’t surprise her even if Ronnie’s presence did. “Yeah, I’m still on that side of town.” And Centerville was small enough for that to roughly mean the same place. Araya’s head tilted, it wasn’t a hard link to pick up, “Not my side of town.” “Well… no.” He said matter of fact. “Your parents still here?” She’d half expected him to have been long gone. Ronnie had never seemed much like a homebody, even when he hadn’t known what he wanted for his future. She’d figured he’d want to stay here even less after her. How wrong she could be. “Mhm.” “Oh.” Her grimace was easy to read – ‘what must they possibly think of me’ – he held his hand up to quickly rectify. “No, no, don’t worry – I never tried to get them to hate you.” This clearly didn’t help things, by the fact her face became pained – but it wasn’t like she wasn’t aware of what she deserved. Ronnie tried again, “Oh no, I-” but then he stopped, because, yeah actually he did hate Araya for what she did. At least back then. Maybe even still. And lying wasn’t the way to go, so it was probably best to just stop talking. He bit his lips together, “I’m sorry, that… was uncalled for.” “No, No I…” She crossed her arms on the table, rubbing her thumbs over the sleeves of her dress, “probably deserve that.” He gave another shrug, this one more apathetic, before taking a sip of coffee. Concluding it was cool enough to drink, Ronnie didn’t put the cup down. The faster he drank it, the faster he could leave… Araya watched him, not because she was waiting for him to say anything else – simply because she liked watching him. She could sit for hours in silence and do that. If he would let her – which, Ronnie certainly wouldn’t be doing any time soon. When he placed the cup down, however, it wasn’t empty. “You know, the coffee here really is the best. I don’t know how Fern does it. Truly something else.” Araya laughed at his musing, “Must be a secret ingredient.” He laughed too, “Must be something like that, huh?”

And that was the problem. It was so easy to be amicable. It was so easy to talk to her again. Like a needle slipping into a groove. Natural. Something they both wanted back, as if it was never gone. And it was like it was never gone. But it had gone – goodbye had been said more than once, and the last time they had seen each other (before, a few months ago, she turned up walking down the street in the middle of his patrol looking like a deer caught in headlights), they had both screamed things they wanted to take back.

Ronnie didn’t know what he wanted anymore. Friends wasn’t going to cut it. He couldn’t just ignore her, even with his best efforts. But he couldn’t let his feelings run away with this. What would happen if they did get back together? What if it all fell apart again? What if it was worse? He couldn’t take that. He couldn’t even consider the possibility.

 That didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking the exact same thing he was. That didn’t mean Araya wasn’t brave enough to tentatively ask it. In moments like this when they were actually getting on – where maybe she’d get the answer she wished for. Nervously tucking her hair behind her left ear before she did, and yet still able to hold the steady gaze of his brown eyes. “Do you ever think about it?” All the time. “About what?” He played a convincing perplexed. “Don’t you wonder if… - What - this could be?” Despite his previous dedication to the truth – Ronnie had no choice but to outright lie, straightening himself. “God, no… I couldn’t bring myself to read the plot points for this. I don’t think I wanna know…” Araya’s eyebrows furrowed again, if any disappointment had even entered her thought stream it had quickly been washed away with confusion. “Plot points?” Ronnie nodded, “Yeah… for the fic?” Araya’s look of puzzlement turned to one of surprise, “Oh. I didn’t know you could just read those and find out what happens.” “Yeah. If I wanted further heartbreak I guess I might!” To stop himself from talking too much Ronnie turned back to his coffee, this time making sure to finish it. But at the look still on Araya’s face, found himself compelled to continue, “I mean there must be some, you wouldn’t write a fic without them, right? I mean--” on second thought, knowing this author…

She sat silent for a moment with her own thoughts, digesting what he was saying. Although, even when she hadn’t fully, Araya gained confidence in her understanding enough to be able to look back into his eyes. What she was hearing was – he didn’t want to not try. It was what happened after that worrying him. And no wonder. “You wouldn’t want to know how it ends?” What if it was like a fairytale? What if they got a happy ever after? That didn’t have to be just fantasy and her wishful thinking. Ronnie blinked, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, before he shrugged again, this time being the one to look away, fingers dancing around the rim of his coffee cup, “Well I didn’t exactly like how it ended last time – if I read it and it doesn’t end well, why would I even want to start anything?” “What if it doesn’t end this time?” There was a warmth to her words as she went back to leaning her head on her hand. Araya was teasing him, of course. It wasn’t really a serious question – she knew neither of them could handle it being a serious question right now. They needed time, they had had time sure – but they needed more. His head tilted, eyes still not meeting hers – but the look on his face let her know she had a point. Ronnie couldn’t argue with that, but STILL! “I don’t think I wanna take the chance to find out. Could be worse. Don’t want that. No, thank you.”

By the time he’d finished his eyes were focused back on hers, with intensity. As if his would be the final word. Araya would have let him have it too, would have nodded along; ‘fair enough’. She even went back to looking at her work, pencil returning to her hand - but then she realised what he’d said. She paused her writing and looked up at him, curious, a little hopeful… but trying not to look too interested – perhaps not wanting Ronnie to realise exact what he’d said just yet. “Wait… so you… are thinking of… starting something?” It wasn’t a stupid question. Even if it would seem to be – either way he answered would have felt correct to both of them. It wasn’t as if there weren’t inklings of chemistry, that had somehow never faded, but she knew how hesitant he was considering how much she had hurt him before. Walking away from someone saying you couldn’t handle a relationship and then ending up in one again less than two months later would do that to a person. Ronnie had gone from wanting her back; would do everything and anything to have her back to… ‘well screw it and screw her and I never want to see her again and I’m actually quite MAD at her truthfully.’, and back again enough times in the years since. His distance when she first arrived didn’t surprise her, even when it was so easy to warm up like this after a five minute conversation. Araya was just as surprised at herself… she didn’t expect to fall back in love with him so easily, and so soon. The wish for her old relationship back had almost been immediate. As much as she understood the situation, at this point it felt so much like dancing around it; they both still had feelings neither would admit for their own personal reasons and the rest of the town was just… waiting. Of that they were almost certain.

Despite this, despite thinking he would want the final word back, Ronnie didn’t answer her. Instead, he just sat up a little straighter. His eyebrows furrowed together and he frowned a little, breathing out deeply – in a way that said everything, but there was no verbal answer… Araya knew better than to push him, and right now he had no coffee and she had no thread of conversation to keep him here either. Ronnie should be getting up and leaving and going to work now, because what else was there to do? He knew this, and so did she and yet he was still just… sitting there.

Either way, she had work to do, and dragging her notebook back towards her, Araya knew she had to think of something quickly before Ronnie figured out nothing was keeping him in his seat. She wanted to keep this conversation flowing – while he wasn’t scowling at her like he’d wish she’d leave, or straight up ignoring her presence. It had been so long since she’d got him like this, and she liked his company – whether Ronnie was talking or not, she always had. “A-Actually…” She held on to the only thing she had left, “If you wouldn’t mind just taking me though this one calculation that won’t add up? It’s different every time, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” He studied her face for just a fraction too long, and without the immediate response she feared that she might lose him this time. Ronnie checked his watch - what was five more minutes? - before he shook his head, “Sure. What’s up? Let’s see what I can do!” Then she smiled, the way she always used to smile at him and a smile he hadn’t seen since she’d left. Ronnie was 90% sure he wouldn’t hear a damn word she was about to say, and Araya would have to repeat herself, but it’d be worth it. What would be five more, five more minutes?

Fern watched from the counter as Ronnie leaned over the table to listen to Araya better, taking the pencil gently from her hand to explain exactly where she was going wrong. It didn’t seem like two minutes since they’d been high school age doing this…

She smiled to herself knowingly, looking at the empty coffee cup and then back at the in-depth discussion – the joy on Araya’s face when it finally made sense and the way Ronnie laughed to. And this time he didn’t check his watch.

It might take a little time, but they would get there. And if that meant she had to keep pouring his coffee into a proper cup instead, she’d make as many as it took.

---