KIKO (MC Bear Mates Book 3) by Becca Fanning (20)

Delphine came to slowly, blinking as the light hit her oversensitive eyes.

The edges of her vision were fuzzy and there was a bitter taste in her mouth, barely detectable under the dry, cottony feeling coating her tongue. She didn’t bother trying to move, recognizing the signs of being sedated and feeling the cool metal restraints around her wrists and ankles.

She was sitting in what was, as far as she could tell, a cargo hold. The chair she was in was apparently strapped to a wall, and there were at least three other people in the room with her. A slight, black-haired woman stood next to a tall brunette, leaning into him. The two were talking to someone out of her line of sight and Delphine didn’t want to turn her head, feeling nauseous. Thanks to the dossiers she had been provided, she identified the people in front of her as Zoshanna Kane and Richard Chapel. The third person sounded feminine, which would make her Anyanka Heathcoat. 

Delphine’s vision cleared slowly, enough so that she could see Kane’s eyes widening as she noticed her captive was awake. She tugged at Chapel’s sleeve, pointing.

“Annie, get the captain,” he said, straightening his shoulders. “She’s awake.”

“About time,” the third voice, now confirmed as Heathcoat, huffed. “Shoot her if she tries anything.”

There was the mechanical swish of a door opening and closing. Delphine ignored it, wondering if she could break through her cuffs. Two of her three primary targets were in the room with her and the third would be on his way down shortly. Even if she didn’t get off the ship alive, she could complete her mission.

She ran over what she knew about the two. Kane was a former street rat, surviving mainly due to her abilities as a thief. No kills that anyone was aware of, favored escape over combat. An easy target. Chapel posed more of a risk; Delphine was fully aware of her own capabilities, but if she couldn’t neutralize him before he shifted she would be at a disadvantage. If she was going to kill them, she needed to do it swiftly, starting with Chapel and finishing before Captain Ingram reached the bay.

The only thing in her way were the fucking cuffs.

She tugged at them, but even with her genetically enhanced strength they held. The chair creaked under her but didn’t give. 

Chapel smiled at her. Or, he moved his lips in a way that revealed quite a few of his teeth. The expression held precious little warmth, which confirmed the suspicions the dossier had provided Delphine with that he and Kane were romantically involved. The bruise on the thief’s cheek was ugly and mottled. Delphine wouldn’t have been surprised if her blow had broken her cheekbone.

“Good morning,” Chapel said in a pleasant tone, the kind that generally came before a significant amount of pain. “We have a few questions for you.”

Delphine remained silent, years of experience keeping her face in a neutral expression.

“I can see you don’t want to talk to us,” he continued. “That’s understandable. Unfortunately, we can’t really let you just sit there either. See, if it were up to me, you’d have a blaster bolt turning your brain into about three pounds of superheated mush. But since we don’t want a repeat performance of what just happened on the docks, we need you to tell us what we want to know.”

Mistake, mistake, mistake. If Delphine were further from the fog of the sedatives they’d used on her, or less well trained, she’d laugh in his face. Letting your prisoner know they weren’t going to be getting out alive was a misstep. People wanted to believe there was a chance they could live, and removing that made them less willing to talk. What would the point be? Obviously, they were threatening her with torture if she didn’t cooperate, which was another mistake. Even with her training, Delphine was fully aware that everyone, including her, eventually broke under torture. That didn’t mean anyone in the crew had the capability to reach her threshold. She’d read all their files. They were smuggler, thieves, and, when the situation called for it, killers. They weren’t seasoned interrogators. 

As it were, she merely remained as she was, still and expressionless. 

“Rick,” Kane said quietly. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Chapel responded, his voice suddenly soft. “But she hurt you, Zee, I’m not inclined to be nice to her.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to be cruel, either,” Kane said. “I know you’re upset, but it’s just a bruise, and I already feel horrible. I don’t want to watch you become someone you aren’t just because I messed up.”

She was surprisingly gentle for a girl from Lytos.

Whatever Chapel wanted to say in response to that was interrupted by Heathcoat reentering the bay with Captain Leo Ingram in tow.

He was, Delphine had to admit, much more impressive than the photo that had been in his file. She’d known he’d be broad-shouldered and square-jawed, with tan skin and curly black hair, but in life he seemed more vivid. She began to understand why people talked about him like they did. 

His anger was harder to ignore than his first officer’s, but still nothing like the trainers Delphine had grown up with. She wondered if he was going to try and intimidate her, or if he knew enough about the people trying to kill him to know that was a futile endeavor. He stared at her, jaw clenched.

“First things first,” he said. “Who are you and who do you work for.”

Delphine wondered if she should simply tell them. The fact that she hadn’t checked in yet had most likely already alerted the leader of Mason Corporation that she had failed or been delayed, and once they were certain she was useless to them they’d send a team. It wouldn’t matter how much or how little information the crew of the Breakwater got from Delphine to prepare for the onslaught. She had seen them at work before. The knowledge she was still capable of fear had come as something of a surprise.

In the end, she opted for silence.

“I had a feeling you were going to be like this,” the captain said. “Strong, silent type. You know, ninety-nine percent of the time I can respect that. Congratulations on finding the one percent.”

The door opened again and several sets of footsteps grew louder.

“Right on time.” Captain Ingram turned towards the other three members of the crew. They kept their distance from Delphine as they walked towards the captain. The shortest of the three handed him what appeared to be a medical pouch. “See, as much as I’d have loved to strap you to the top of the Breakwater, you have information we need. Things like, ‘who hired you’ and ‘what should we be on the lookout for.’ And I can’t afford to wait around until you feel like telling us. So what I have here,” he said, removing a syringe from the pouch, “is a delightful little compound an acquaintance of ours sells. It should loosen your lips.”

Delphine couldn’t do anything but glare as he walked up to her and jerked her head roughly to the side. The hiss as the syringe punched through the skin of her neck seemed implausibly loud. She was sure that her genetics would counteract some of the effects of the drug, but she couldn’t be sure how much or how it would combine with the remnants of the sedative still in her system. Clenching her jaw, she looked around the room.

The newcomers were easy to identify. Dominic Banner, 35. Close-cut hair and beard. Neat, quiet, short. Suffered from Rogerson disorder; neutralize pre-shift, do not engage otherwise. Hyde Jones, 36. Skin dark, like hers. Dreadlocks swept back behind a bandanna. Missing right eye due to infection. On the run from a murder charge. Anthony Monroe, 35, currently using the name “Custer.” Hand lost to malfunctioning blaster. Manic and unpredictable.

She knew them better than they knew each other, had spent hours going over the files that contained their whole lives over and over again. It was doing precious little to help her now. Banner was scowling at her quietly, Jones looked as though he would be perfectly content to just kill her and be done with it, and Monroe had a toothy grin stretched across his face.

“We’ll just give that a moment to kick in, shall we?” the captain said.

“I still say we just…” Jones mimed pointing a blaster at his head and firing.

“Hear, hear,” murmured Chapel, wrapping a protective arm around Kane.

“Now, now,” Monroe said. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Where’s the fun in getting rid of the person who hurt Zosha?” Chapel raised an eyebrow. “Well, honestly, I’d call it more ‘satisfactory’ than ‘fun’ but I’m sure I could dredge up some sense of enjoyment.”

“Not now, Rick,” the captain said. “Answers first, murder second. Ready to talk yet?”

Delphine remained silent. It was somewhat harder to do so than it had been five minutes ago.

“You sure we can’t expedite the process a bit, Captain?” Chapel asked. 

“Is this going to be a problem?” Ingram furrowed his brow. “Because this sort of sounds like this is going to be a problem.”

“I’m just glad to see the mighty Richard has a temper like the rest of us,” Monroe sighed. 

“Custer, I swear to God—”

“Aw, come one, Dick, you know I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Can you be serious for five fucking minutes?” Chapel seethed. “She hit Zosha. She could have killed her if Hyde hadn’t tranqed her fast enough.”

“But he did,” Monroe answered breezily, “and thus, your lovely girlfriend is saved from an assassin who, more likely than not, went after you and tripped over her.”

“You—”

“It’s a decent question,” Heathcoat chimed in, her auburn hair spilling over her shoulder as she tilted her head. “Was she aiming for Rick and ran into Zosha? Or was she after Zosha?”

“Both,” Delphine said.

Every head in the room turned towards her as she tensed. She hadn’t meant to speak, hadn’t even known she was going to until she already had.

Sloppy.

“Good to know,” Heathcoat said slowly, taking a step forward. “And were you targeting anyone in our crew other than them? I assume you were. They aren’t involved in anything that the rest of us aren’t.”

Delphine kept her jaw clenched tight. As long as she focused, she could keep herself from saying anything she shouldn’t. The question was, was it worth it? What were the advantages of remaining silent versus revealing information that wouldn’t help them in the long run? She didn’t think she could lie convincingly with the drugs still in her system.

She considered her options, thinking about the reputation of the people in front of her and of skill of the people they would send to finish her job.

“Kane, Chapel, and Ingram,” she said at last. “As well as any of the other crew members I could kill.”

“That’s a bit ambitious for one person, don’t you think?” the captain asked, apparently unfazed by the knowledge he was a principle target. “Did you really think you could take out three of us, minimum, and then get away unscathed?”

“I didn’t think about it at all,” Delphine responded.

“So, what, you decided to kamikaze us? Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have no idea who you are. Just what did we do to you that made you want to go out in a blaze of glory slaughtering us?”

Delphine shifted, stretching as much as she could with the restraints in place. “We have never encountered each other, Captain Ingram.”

“See, I didn’t think so,” he said, shaking a finger at her. “But the thing is, that would mean you’re a hired gun, and I know from experience that they generally don’t take jobs they don’t think they’ll survive to see payment for.”

“I was not hired,” Delphine answered, “but I am doing this on behalf of my employer.”

“Okay, is she actually going to answer our questions?” Jones asked. “Or is she just going to play fucking mind games?”

“I think we should leave her,” Banner said quietly. “She’s not going anywhere, and whether or not someone’s after us, we still need to clear the system. The dock guards’ll blast us out of the sky if they have the chance.”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving her unguarded,” Chapel said. 

“Where’s she gonna go?” Jones scoffed. 

“She’s on a suicide mission that involves killing us,” Chapel retorted. “If she gets out of here she could still hurt one of us before we knew she was out.” His arm around Kane tightened.

“Custer,” Ingram said. “You’re on guard duty. With any luck you’ll drive her insane.”

“I’ll do my very best, Captain,” Monroe said with a smile, saluting. 

“Great. Everyone, back to wherever it is you should be right now. Custer, don’t fuck up.”

The crew began to file out of the room. Kane took Chapel’s hand and squeezed.

“You go ahead,” she said. “I want to talk to her.”

Chapel’s eyebrows shot up. “You want me to leave you alone with the woman who is currently trying to kill you?”

“I’m not alone,” she answered with a slight smile. “Custer’s here.”

“You want me to leave you alone with the woman who is currently trying to kill you and Custer?”

“Just go. If I’m not out in five, you have my permission to come in, guns blazing.” Muttering under his breath, Chapel obeyed.

It was just Delphine, the woman she’d failed to kill, and man who would probably not kill her left in the room. She studied them both, fighting off the haze of the drugs to think of what to say, if anything. Zoshanna Kane: abandoned by her mother and raised by the streets of an asteroid colony infamous for vice. Had the misfortune to be involved with Sylas Rahm disposing of his brother. Intelligent but neither aggressive nor physically threatening. Anthony “Custer” Monroe: No record of criminal activity until joining the crew of the ICS Starstriker, running weapons. Left due to irreconcilable differences with the crew. Similar incidents while working for the crews of the Bloodsport, Sidewinder, and Kingkiller. Newest core member of the Breakwater, serving for three years.

What did all of that add up to? All that information, and what was it for? They would hardly let her go knowing she still intended to kill them. What was the point of all her knowledge, all her strength, tied to a chair?

“Um, hi,” Kane said. She looked more awkward than afraid, like maybe Delphine was someone she ran into on the street that she didn’t know how to talk to and not someone who was responsible for the sizable bruise covering the left side of her face. “I have a few questions before I head up. Why are Rick, the captain, and I targets? A few of the others on the ship have done a lot more than we have, and I’ve only been part of the crew for a few months.”

“Are you talking about the murder charge leveled against Mr. Jones,” Delphine inquired, “or Ms. Heathcoat’s role in the disappearance and presumed death of Captain Strathmore of the Appomattox?”

From the sharp inhale, Kane hadn’t been expecting her to know either of those things. Monroe, for his part, just looked interested.

Delphine kept speaking. “My employers have nothing to lose or gain from the frame job your communications officer fell prey to, and any damage that could be done by Strathmore’s death has already been done.”

“Then what?” Kane asked.

“U4, obviously,” Monroe said, mouth curling into a smile far more catlike than Delphine had expected from a bear shifter. “You because it’s your fault we were in the position to enter the business, Rick because he loves you and because he helped you, and Leo because the captain is responsible for his crew. I was wondering when that business was going to come back to bite us in the ass. The only real question is, who do you work for? Remnants of the younger Rahm brother’s empire? The smugglers we replaced?”

Delphine remained silent. The only thing she was sure she could not tell these people was the name of her employers. It was a betrayal, a failure.

Delphine’s record was flawless, despite the setbacks her cluster had experienced in their developmental stage. She did not fail. She would not. Instead, she studied the man in front of her.

Strange that the man with a galaxy-wide reputation for lunacy and drunken violence would be the one shrewd enough to pick apart her motives. She looked over him slowly. His hair, parted to the right, was light gold and seemed to glow under the artificial lights of the cargo bay. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his jaw clean-shaven. His eyes were, of course, gold, but they seemed to be lighter than his crew mates’. She could see nothing marring his pale skin, giving him an illusion of youth only disrupted by the smirk on his full lips. He seemed to Delphine for a drug-addled second to be made of gold and marble. Then he ruined it by talking.

“No, of course it isn’t the smugglers,” he said, his smile morphing into something that assumed victory. “They can find other work. Not as good, of course, but still better than chasing down someone with our collective reputation. The suppliers, on the other hand… we switched to a source our friend recommended when we took over, which means someone suddenly came into the frankly ridiculous money that comes with supplying Lytos with its favorite drug. That means someone suddenly lost all that money, and I’m thinking that just might be enough to kill for. Glare at me silently if I’m right.”

He didn’t need the confirmation; the look in his eyes was full of certain. Delphine drew up all the dignity she could muster tied to a chair and stared at him coolly. 

“I see it wasn’t a fluke that you scored so highly in your courses, Mr. Monroe,” she said. “Your deductive reasoning skills are impressive.”

The change that came over his was so small that if the person talking to him wasn’t both observant and looking for it they wouldn’t have noticed. Delphine was both of these things. His eyes shuttered, and though neither his facial expression nor his posture changed he suddenly gave off an air of stillness.

“My, my,” he said. “You’re well informed. And here I don’t even know your name.” Delphine didn’t answer, and Monroe clearly wasn’t expecting her to. He turned to Kane. “Zosha, please go ask your spidery friend if he could pretty please find out who the previous U4 supplier to Lytos was.”

Kane looked like she had more to say, but turned and left anyways.

“So. Is there anything else about my past you’d like to tell me?” Monroe asked in a tone that would be perfectly amiable coming from anyone else.

“What would you like to know?” she asked blandly.

“How about your name?” he said. “We’ve been referring to you as ‘the assassin’ and ‘that bitch that punched Zosha.’”

Delphine thought it over. “I’ll tell you my name if you tell me something.”

Monroe raised an eyebrow. None of his expression, Delphine noted, felt real. It was more like he was imitating what a genuine expression would look like. “You’re trying to trade information? Information, by the way, that we don’t actually need for information you probably do? While you’re drugged and tied to a chair in our cargo bay?”

“Yes,” Delphine said. “You knew I was coming. How?”

It had been a niggling feeling of irritation in the back of her mind since she’d woken up. She had been meticulous in her planning and flawless in her execution. And yet, she hadn’t been able to do more than land a blow to the weakest link on the ship before the cold kiss of a tranquilizer dart landed on the side of her neck. The only way it could have gone down like that was if they were tipped off. That meant one of two things: either there was a mole at Mason Corporation or there was someone intelligent and with enough resources to get past Mason Co.’s security. Most likely, the answer was both. The idea stirred something frightened and nervous in the pit of Delphine’s stomach that she thought she’d killed years ago.

“Zosha’s friend is very interested in her continued well-being, which is one of the only reasons we survived meeting her,” Monroe said.

Delphine frowned ever so slightly. It confirmed her suspicions, but didn’t tell her anything new. She never did this sort of investigative work on her targets. Mason Co. was a well-oiled machine, every cog in place. She had never done her own research because she had never been told to. Her job was to learn to neutralize the faces in the files handed to her by a handler and now that she was in a position where she couldn’t fulfill her purpose she found it difficult to find the inner balance her trainers had drilled into her. She chose to blame the drugs.

“Delphine,” she said softly, because she had no reason to lie. She realized with a start that she couldn’t remember actually telling anyone her name before. Everyone who needed to know it knew it before meeting her and everyone who didn’t need to know it…didn’t. 

“Pretty name,” Monroe said. “I was expecting something like ‘Killer,’ to be honest. ‘Delphine’ is much nicer.”

“Thank you,” Delphine said because she didn’t know what else to say. A tingle of something like pride ran through. 

“You’re welcome. Anyways, we’ll know who hired you soon enough,” Monroe said cheerily. “Captain won’t sign off on executing you until we know enough about them to plan around whatever their next wave of attack might be.”

“Then why would I want to tell you?” Delphine asked.

“I don’t expect you will. Which, honestly, works for me. You’re the most interesting thing to happen to this ship since, well, Zosha.”

It didn’t make sense. Monroe’s files said he was prone to impulsive, nonsensical decisions, but this… “You should want me to die. All the rest of your crew does.”

“I am not my crew, Delphine,” he said. “And even though they refuse to see it, I am always right in these situations. My madness has method to it. You’re going to be important to us, I just don’t know how yet.”

“Is it maybe because I try, and hopefully succeed, to kill at least some of you?” Delphine asked, a little confused how the conversation had ended up here.

“Definitely not,” Monroe said. “I have a good feeling about you.”

“I don’t understand you,” Delphine told him, because it was true. All the others, she had read their files and understood them. She knew them, could predict them—apart, apparently, from having better connections than initial reports had suggested. But Monroe… “I could see why you suddenly started calling yourself Custer and boarded a smuggler ship. There was nothing in your history that pointed to you becoming…this. You had good grades, you had no criminal history, you just…were. You hadn’t done anything to merit that kind of drastic lifestyle change. And then I realized that’s exactly what it was. You didn’t want to escape being Anthony Monroe because of what you’d done, you wanted it because Anthony Monroe did nothing. And I understood that---you were purposeless and wanted to change. But I couldn’t…I didn’t…” Delphine shook her head. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was mortified. This wasn’t her. She was created to be great and trained to be perfect and here she was, a mess because of a few drugs and a handsome, confusing blond. “You gave yourself a purpose. You shouldn’t be able to—we all have our places that we belong in. I have mine. I understand it, and I am content in it. But you, you made your own and it worked. I don’t understand how.”

Monroe’s face had, over the course of her rant, steadily lost all trace of its previous sardonic expression. Now it was guarded, his eyes intensely studying over her. Delphine had a feeling that he was more authentic than most people saw him.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that it’s less of a matter of finding and staying in your place as it is realizing that the notion of having a place in the first place is a fabrication of people who want to exploit others. And I must say, you have a surprising mentality about the issue for a mercenary.”

Delphine managed, barely, to keep her mouth shut tightly against the onslaught of words wanting to pour out. She would keep at least one secret.

Monroe’s honey-colored gaze slid away from her face and rested somewhere over her left shoulder. 

“I think,” he murmured, “that it would be best to put you back under for now. I have a few things I’d like to discuss with the captain before we get any further.”

He walked towards her, reaching into his pocket. Drawing out a syringe, he leaned forward and gently placed a hand against one side of her neck to tilt her head back. The contact was, irritatingly enough, soothing, and Delphine cursed at her faulty upbringing and the memory of warm, dark eyes that she couldn’t shake years later. As Monroe pressed the syringe to her neck, she barely had time to decide she was extremely sick of getting stuck in the neck with various paraphernalia before she felt the tell-tale prick.

“You should be out pretty quickly,” Monroe said. “This shit’s designed to knock Dom on his ass for a few hours if it looks like he’s going to lose it.” He paused, then smirked. It was as carefully crafted as it had been before, but he looked far less like the serious-faced man he had been moments before. “One last thing. My name’s Custer. Call me anything else, and we’re going to start having problems. And you have enough of those already.”

Delphine began to rapidly sink back into oblivion. It was almost a relief; she couldn’t be the embarrassing mess she had been for last half hour if she was unconscious. She was addled enough that she barely registered the warm, gentle pressure of Custer’s gloved hand didn’t leave. If she found it comforting, then… well. it wasn’t as though she was likely to live long enough to put it in a report.

-

When she woke up again, she was no longer tied to the chair, but she could feel the pressure of something wrapped around her neck. She reached up and ran her fingers along the smooth collar, toying with what could only be a lock mechanism.

“Hello again,” Captain Ingram said. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the bay. “You lucked out. Custer and I had a long discussion in which he, somehow, convinced me to not keep you tied to that chair until either we kill you or the inevitable heat death of the universe. The tradeoff is the collar. I don’t care how good your training was, if that thing’s activated you will be on the ground in about two seconds. Everyone on the crew can activate it, and all of them know not to go anywhere alone. I don’t recommend trying anything.”

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Delphine asked. It came out a rasp; she hadn’t had anything to drink in, by her estimation, about six hours. Combined with the drugs, her mouth felt dry. “You know who sent me. Or you will know.”

“Like I said, Custer’s apparently decided he wants a fellow homicidal maniac on board. More importantly, once we find out who hired you, we need to be able to avoid whoever they send next. I’m assuming the second act will be better than the first, and even if you don’t tell us anything, we can still use you for ransom.”

Delphine could have laughed. Her handlers knew she would die on this mission. They would never pay to have her back. She was the last remaining splice of a defective batch, like clumps of coffee grains at the bottom of the cup. It was easier to throw her away. 

“Sporting of you, I suppose,” she said. “Was there anything else?”

“Yup. You can go anywhere on the ship except the cockpit, the crew’s private rooms, and engineering. Also, you won’t be able to access the terminals and we’ll get an alert if you try.”

“So, where exactly can I go?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The kitchen, where, by the way, you’re not allowed to touch our food. Here. We have several nice hallways,” the captain answered. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, then,” Delphine said.

“Yeah, well, you tried to kill my crew. Honestly, I’m not even sure why I agreed to let you out of that chair, other than Custer is disturbingly good at people for some who…never mind. Point is, don’t cross any boundaries, or we’ll nail you to the ceiling until we decide what to do with you. Also, please remember that most of the people on this ship turn into giant carnivores,” he said.

“Actually, bears are omnivores,” Delphine answered absently, rubbing her wrists.

“Doesn’t take you off the menu. Remember: nails, ceiling, bears. No funny business. And don’t think you’re ever off camera.” With that, the captain turned and walked back out.

Delphine considered leaving the cargo hold, but there didn’t seem to be a point. She wasn’t very hungry yet and she doubted she could do anything worthwhile for her mission, so instead she lay on her back, closed her eyes, and forced herself to calm down enough to sleep. Unconsciousness caused by drugs never really left anyone feeling rested, and she could afford to burn energy and waste calories at the moment. It took a few moments of breathing deeply, but soon her body was relaxed enough. Eventually, her thoughts stopped whirring around her head and she slipped into sleep.

She woke up to someone kicking her gently in the leg. She looked up to see Monroe holding two mugs and two bottles of water.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling. “I mean, it’s actually about 6 in what would be an afternoon were we not in the depths of space. I just figured you might want food.”

Want or not, she needed to eat and she knew it. She sat up and accepted one mug from him carefully.

“What is this?” she asked.

“I have no idea, but it tastes okay,” Custer cheerfully informed her.

“Is it poisoned?”

“Why would I poison it?”

Delphine sighed. “You have something of a reputation.”

“Oooh,” Custer said, looking thrilled as he dropped down to sit beside her, laying the bottles on the ground in between them. “Tell me more.”

“That you’re widely considered to be a homicidal maniac?” she asked, dipping a spoon into the mug, which appeared to contain rice in some sort of sauce.

“Oh, that’s all,” he said. “I was hoping someone came up with something new.”

“Why?” Delphine popped the spoon into her mouth. Custer had been right. The food was both unidentifiable and okay tasting. 

“We’re at the end of an empire, I fear,” Custer said, sighing dramatically. “Imagination has died out. Instead, we recycled old grudges and old insults from our forefathers. It all gets boring very fast. We are witnessing the inevitable decline.”

“That so?” Delphine asked.

“It is. We can travel at the speed of light, but we can’t be interesting. Ah, civilization, you meant well, I suppose.”

“You know,” Delphine said thoughtfully, chewing. “I’ve met a lot of guys like you to cover up the fact that they’re secretly a mess.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed and scooped up more rice-and-mystery-sauce. “You’re not one of them.”

Custer laughed. “Thank you.”

She studied him. He was unlike anyone she had ever met, and she had yet to decide if that was a good or bad thing. She was sure he wasn’t actually a psychopath, just a dramatic asshole, but he had a sort of charisma around him that stopped her from looking away. It was the kind that didn’t mesh well with others, but was intoxicating when it did. Whether they loved or hated him, Delphine doubted many people forgot meeting Custer. It was a shame he’d gotten on the bad side of Mason. Removing someone like him from the galaxy seemed like it’d make the whole thing darker. 

“So, how long do we have until Mason sends someone else to kill us?” Custer asked as though he knew what she was thinking.

Delphine refused to allow herself to react to the name. Instead, she went through all the people who had the power to find that out in the short amount of time she’d been on the ship and dearly hoped that none of them were correct.

“I’m not sure,” she said instead. “It’ll depend on how long it takes them to find you again. The only reason they could in the first place was because they were already familiar with the U4 route.”

“That’s good, then,” Custer said, tapping his finger on his chin. “We’re good at not being found. It’ll give us time to figure something else out, at least.”

“They won’t engage you anywhere with a significant amount of water,” she told him. “They know what the ship can do.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that. The last time we had to use that particular function was interesting, but not something I want to repeat right now.”

Delphine cocked her head. “Was that when you killed Strathmore?”

“I didn’t kill him personally. But yes,” Custer said, setting his mug down. “How did you know about that, exactly?”

His eyes were suddenly very, very cold. His apparent protective streak really shouldn’t have been attractive but, to Delphine’s chagrin, it was.

“It was easy enough. Anyanka Heathcoat was announced as Strathmore’s fiancée. A week later, she disappears. A day later, Strathmore’s dead and she’s reappeared on the Breakwater,” Delphine spooned the last of her food into her mouth, forcing herself to seem uncaring even as the intensity of Custer’s gaze sent tingles down her spine.

“And how many others know this?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she told him. “I don’t do the research.”

“And why should I believe you?”

Delphine shrugged. “No point in lying. You won’t be able to get away from whoever they send next.”

“We’ll see,” Custer said distantly, his smile gone. “I’m going to go check in with the captain.”

With that, he stood and grabbed the mugs and spoons and walked into the main body of the ship.

Delphine sat alone with the two bottles of water for the moment, then sighed and stretched out. She lay staring at the ceiling until she felt less full, then stripped off her over shirt and started a set of pushups. She alternated between working out and resting, not seeing a point in interacting with the crew. She splashed some of the water on herself to keep herself as clean as she could and saved the other to drink. Eventually, she went back to sleep, the bitter taste of failing to accomplish anything coating her mouth.

The next few days passed similarly. At some point, someone would bring her food. When not eating, she would meditate, sleep, or work out. 

Out of everyone who brought her food, the only one who stayed to talk was Custer, who seemed to have brushed off the conversation about Strathmore. He sat with her, telling her bad jokes and detailing ludicrous jobs they’d had, not seeming to mind when she didn’t provide information about her own life. He filled in the silences and after a few days, Delphine was horrified to realize that she’d grown ridiculously fond of him.

He was prattling on about something to do with engine failures when she realized she was smiling a little helplessly, no trace of irritation in her mind. It was more than not minding if he was there. She actively didn’t want him to go.

Her blood froze. She had been so sure she had recovered from Ramirez’s faulty methods of raising her cluster, but here she was. Swallowing down bile, she tried to force the feeling away through sheer willpower. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice cutting through her reverie. His eyes were uncharacteristically earnest and despite her impending panic it made something warm in her stomach bloom.

“Absolutely fine,” she said. “Go on.”

He gave her a suspicious look but continued his story. He stayed for what Delphine estimated to be another hour and the whole time she sat beside him, smiling and nodding at the right places and settling into the realization she was attached.

She was as glad as she was disappointed when he left. The time alone was helpful for getting her mind back in order but cut too short when Heathcoat and Kane walked in. Delphine raised an eyebrow. She’d seen neither hide nor hair of them since the first day.

“Hello,” Heathcoat said. “I’m Annie, this is Zosha. Custer says you know what all of our real names are. I advise you not use them. Come with us.”

“Why?” Delphine asked, standing up. She was a few inches taller than Kane—Zosha—and Heathcoat—Annie.

“You need a shower. Custer’s managed to convince the rest of the crew that you should eat dinner with us. Apparently, the problem is that we haven’t gotten to know you and not that you nearly killed Zosha.”

“I’m willing to forgive and forget as long as you don’t try it again,” Zosha said, dark eyes wide. The bruise had faded to a sickly yellow color.

“And I’m willing to see how this plays out. Now, are you going to try and kill us the second we turn our backs?” Annie asked.

“No. It would, I think, go poorly. Anyways, Mason will send a team as soon as they find you, so I would be wasting my effort for nothing,” she told them honestly.

“Well, that wasn’t as reassuring as I’d hoped,” Annie said. “Alright, come on.”

Delphine followed the other two women down a corridor and into one of the rooms. It was a bedroom, clean except for the desk.

“Bathroom’s through there,” Annie said, gesturing. “I’ll have another change of clothes laid out for you when you’re done.”

Delphine considered, for a moment, attacking. She dismissed the idea almost immediately. Neither of them struck her as stupid enough to let her in the room with them if they didn’t think they could stop her from attacking, and Delphine had no desire to find out what the collar felt like when it was activated. A quiet, traitorous part of her mind added that if she hurt either of them, Custer would be upset.

She stepped into the bathroom, stripped, and showered with a learned efficiency. The sonics felt good as they wiped away the remaining sweat and grit of the previous days. She scraped her nails through her close-cropped hair and behind her ears, rolling her shoulders to feel the muscles relax. Satisfied, she stepped out and wrapped a towel around her torso before exiting the bathroom.

Sure enough, Annie had laid a new outfit on the bed. Delphine dropped the towel and pulled it on, the others politely looking away. The clothing was a bit tight—she was slightly taller than Annie and had more muscle—but she was hardly in a position to complain.

“Alright, let’s go,” Zosha said. “I think we’re having miso tonight and if we don’t get there on time Dom will steal it all.”

As they walked into the hallway, Annie turned to Delphine. “Alright. Leo, you can call Leo, Ingram, Captain Ingram, or Captain. He really doesn’t care. Other than that, the others are Hyde, Dominic, and Rick. That is what they like to be called. Please remember that. It’ll make dinner less awkward.”

“Well, I’m glad my intent to murder your entire crew isn’t the most awkward thing about dinner,” Delphine said.

“Also, please don’t try to kill anyone,” Zosha added helpfully. “But if you do, go for Hyde. He’s being an asshole and making me do all the boring codes.”

“Life’s hard,” Annie said.

“I still don’t know why this is happening in the first place,” Delphine told them.

Annie sighed. “Custer vouched for you, and that’s not nothing. The boys have all had to get used to being able to rely on each other’s judgment to survive. They probably won’t be nice about it, but they trust him enough that they’re willing to give this a chance.”

“I see,” Delphine said, trying to figure out how that web of trust must work.

“You get used to it,” Zosha told her as they entered the kitchen. The shifters were already seated, Dominic already working his way through a bowl of soup as promised. They looked up when Delphine, Annie, and Zosha entered, faces ranging from distaste to indifference with Custer’s huge smile being the outlier.

“Alright, no one start shit,” Annie said, taking her seat next to the captain. “Someone serve.”

Rick leaned in and began pouring the soup into bowls, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Zosha’s cheek as he handed one to her. Custer snagged two and gave one to Delphine, who had dropped into the seat beside him.

“So, Delphine,” Hyde said conversationally, “how goes it on the ‘psychopathic assassin’ front?”

“Hyde, what did I just say?” Annie asked sweetly. 

“What? We’re all going to pretend she didn’t try to kill us now?”

“No,” Annie replied through gritted teeth, “we are attempting to work with her to avoid the second wave. Now, be. Civil.”

“And as the only person here who she actually got close to killing, I say we focus on what Annie just said,” Zosha added. “You guys have all tried to kill each other at some point, and you’re all fine now.”

“We’re being open and accepting,” Custer said, his smile only mildly threatening.

Hyde snorted and said nothing else. No one else seemed inclined to start a conversational thread, and the quiet loomed for a moment.

“So, Delphine,” Zosha said awkwardly, filling the silence, “where are you from?”

“Mason,” Delphine answered, poking at her soup with the spoon. It seemed safe.

“No, I mean, where did you live before you started working for Mason?” Zosha clarified. 

“I was raised in one of the Mason buildings,” she said. “What did you say this was again?”

“Seaweed, tofu, and soy paste. So your parents worked for them?” Zosha scrunched her nose.

Delphine frowned, trying to calculate the nutritional gain from the soup. “If by parents, you mean the people who donated their genetic material to my existence, then yes.”

Annie snorted. “Not close, I take it.”

“I never met our ‘father,’ and our ‘mother’ was removed when it was decided she had an inappropriate emotional connection to us.” Delphine took a bite of the soup. It was salty, but decent for space food.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” Hyde said, leaning in. “‘Emotional connection?’ Also, if you weren’t raised by your parents, how did you grow up at a Mason center and not, like, an orphanage?”

“Mason sank too much time and money into my cluster’s creation, even after some executives raised concerns about how our ‘mother’ raised us. She got upset when we felt pain,” Delphine explained. “And the prospect of us dying alarmed her. Our training suffered, and when our results were significantly lower than other clusters an investigation was launched and we were reassigned to a trainer who was capable of completing the required curriculum.” Delphine forced her mind to shut out the memory of trainer Ramirez’s warm brown eyes, the ghostly pressure of arms around her and a voice telling her someone loved her, the way she’d screamed when the guards dragged her out of the dormitory. She’d called them her children. How foolish.

“Okay, so when you say ‘creation…’” Zosha trailed off. Everyone at the table was staring at Delphine, food forgotten.

“Mason decided it wanted to branch out from making prosthetics to making entire beings. You must have noticed my irregular biology,” Delphine said. “Do you have the nutritional information for this by any chance?”

“What you’re saying sounds a lot like creating artificial life,” Annie said slowly, “which is very, very illegal.”

Delphine shrugged. “You came to blows with them over U4 trade. They obviously aren’t very concerned with legality. They needed loyal, skilled, combat-trained guards to protect their interests. The most efficient way to get them was to make them. I don’t consider my life to be artificial, if that makes a difference to you.”

“What are you, exactly?” Dominic asked, eyes narrow.

“Human, mostly. My cluster was from the round of experimentation with wolf splices. I’m told there were high hopes for us. We were promising until trainer Ramirez failed to follow protocol.”

“So they made you, and they trained you to kill people, and they just send you out whenever they want?” Zosha asked, eyes wide. “That’s horrible!”

“Not particularly,” Delphine said. “It just…is.”

“What happened to the rest of you cluster?” Zosha demanded, her eyes shining.

“I am the last one,” Delphine told her, a familiar cold sweeping through her. “The others were flawed.”

“And you aren’t flawed,” Hyde said softly.

“Of course not,” Delphine bit out. “I overcame my upbringing. My record is impeccable.”

There was a moment of horrified silence. Delphine sat perfectly still, every nerve on edge. Custer’s smile was still on his face, but barely, and his eyes were distant.

“Leo,” Annie said in a low, controlled voice, “I think this needs to become a discussion.”

“What do you mean, a discussion?” Zosha burst out. “We can’t let them get her back!”

“Agreed,” Hyde said, “but we also can’t take any chances. She’s flawless, you heard her, and she’s still on the job.”

“She just gave us evidence that could shut down Mason permanently,” Rick pointed out quietly. 

“Because she doesn’t think we’ll live long enough to do anything about it,” Dominic shot back.

“I currently think trying to kill you would be a waste of time and energy,” Delphine volunteered. “Currently, I’m just waiting until Mason finds us and sends a squadron to kill us all.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Hyde muttered. “Wait, all of us?”

“Like you said, I’m evidence. Once the squadron kills you, the assignment will be completed and I will have failed it. This will mean I have a no longer flawless record and will have spent a significant amount of time with the enemy, none of whom I have managed to harm in any significant way. Combined with my history, a case will be made that I do not have the emotional capability to complete my job, and I can’t be allowed to live.”

“And you’re just waiting for this to happen?” Annie asked.

“What else can I do? I can’t run, and if I could, what would I do? I have a specific set of skills and that’s all.”

“If you could get away from Mason, would you run?” Custer asked, never looking away from the patch of wall he was staring at.

What a silly question. If she could get away from Mason, she would fly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Delphine said. “I can’t get away. Neither can you.”

“Historically speaking, we’re very good at doing what people say we can’t,” the captain said, entering the conversation. His fingers were steepled, his eyes serious. Suddenly, he was someone that commanded respect. “I see no reason this should be an exception.”

“Oh, good,” Hyde sighed. “Congratulations. You just became one of Leo’s hopeless cases. I’ll go ahead and put her on the crew roster, shall I?”

“Not just yet,” Ingram said. “We have to see if we survive first. I’ll assume that we universally agree that we should try and find a way to stop Mason from killing us. Any of us.”

A murmur of assent rippled around the table.

“Can we threaten them with Delphine?” Annie asked. “I mean, like she said, she’s evidence that they’re doing way more than smuggling. Creating artificial life, especially for combat, gets the death sentence.”

“They’d still come after us. It’s basically the exact situation we’re in now, except now we have more information. It’s in their best interest to kill us either way,” Rick pointed out.

“What about the other smugglers? Delphine, do you know what happened to the smugglers Mason used to get U4 to Lytos before we took over?”

“Some,” Delphine said, wracking her memory. “The ship employed was the ITC Rabblerouser. After losing the U4 deal with Lytos, Mason tried to employ them to run a more dangerous quadrant. They refused and ended up cutting ties with the company. I’m not sure how they’re currently employed.”

“What if we can get them to say they smuggled the U4 into quadrants that ban us? Would they back off if we came at them from two fronts?” Annie asked.

“Rabblerouser’s based out of Saltos,” Hyde said. “Or they were. I worked with them for a few months. It’s two days from here, easy.”

Delphine shook her head. “They’ll just deny the claims and keep coming after us.”

“They won’t be able to,” Zosha said. “Sylas will back it up, and people listen when he talks. And Da—and my friend will help us.”

Delphine had a pretty good idea who Zosha’s friend was. She very carefully avoided thinking about it.

“Saltos, you said. We’ll plot a course now,” the captain said, rising to his feet. “Zosha, talk to your friend. I’m going to call Sylas. Rick, you and Annie are in the cockpit. Everyone else, do whatever makes you feel useful.”

The group split apart, everyone going to their designated place. Only Delphine and Custer remained still. She looked around, dazed, and realized that these people really thought this would work.

“Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?” Custer asked quietly. “You were drugged to the gills and also tied to a chair, so I won’t hold it against you if you don’t.”

“I suppose you mean the rant about you not doing anything, followed by you doing something?”

“That’s the one. Just remember, I excel at changing destinies. I’ll get you through this,” he said, finally looking at her. She could have drowned in the look in his eyes. 

“As long as I don’t have to change my name,” she said in an attempt to force the conversation back onto more comfortable ground. “Tell me, were you a Civil War enthusiast or were you just a fan of Strathmore?”

Custer groaned, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Neither, I promise. It was a very, very old song my mom used to sing to me as a kid. I don’t know why, it was incredibly depressing. It’s about a man who doesn’t want to die. After she died, I was tired of being Anthony and it was the first name I could think of when I was getting fake papers. I didn’t even know who he was until people started making jokes.” 

Delphine laughed softly. “So, what now?”

“Now,” Custer said, pushing back from the table, “we go back to my room and you get some serious rest. You both need and deserve it. Also, we get the collar off.”

Delphine’s hand flew to her neck in surprise. She’d forgotten about it. Custer lead her out of the kitchen and to the hallway containing the rooms, punching in the code for his and walking inside.

The inside was a standard bedroom for smaller ships. There was clothing and the like pushed into piles on the floor. It was an almost controlled mess, which Delphine supposed was a pretty good metaphor for Custer himself.

“Come here,” Custer told her, pulling a small device out of his pocket. Delphine obeyed and Custer leaned forward and cupped her neck with his free hand. Her heart stuttered as he leaned in, his warmth seeping into her. There was a click and the collar dropped away. Custer kicked and it skidded under his bed.

“Better?” he asked, not leaning away or removing his hand.

“Much,” she said more quietly than she meant to.

The seconds ticked past as they stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. The only point of contact was his hand on her neck, but it felt…intimate. Delphine was so tempted to just lean forward and press their lips together. It would be so easy. It was also, she knew, a tremendously bad idea. After a moment of perfect stillness, Custer pulled back.

“Alright, so, do you need something to sleep in?” he asked, walking to his desk and shoving few papers aside.

“No, I’m good,” Delphine said, hovering. She wasn’t sure what she should be doing, exactly.

Custer turned to look at her. “Sheets are clean. I’ll try to be quiet.”

“Thank you,” she said, and walked stiffly to the bed. She sat on it, trying to convince herself that getting under the blankets wouldn’t be horrifically awkward. It was anyways, but at least Custer wasn’t looking.

“Lights to fifteen percent,” he said, and the lights immediately lowered. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” Delphine said.

She meant to stay awake and think what had happened over, but her body had other plans. Her carefully monitored sleep cycle had been thrown completely out of whack and her tiredness was catching up to her. Being on an actual mattress didn’t help. She decided that she’d sleep now and wake up early to process then. Instead, she slept for what appeared to be twelve hours and spent the day so groggy and tired she was a bit suspicious she’d been drugged again. She ate and talked with Custer and did nothing productive, like nothing had changed from two days ago. The next day was no better. The others seemed to be trying their hardest to keep her away from their planning, which was fair but meant there was nothing for her to do. She ended up, once again, trailing after Custer like a puppy. The experience was neither as boring or as frustrating as it should have been.

Finally, they reached Saltos. All members of the crew met in the cargo bay.

“Alright,” the captain said, all other chatter fading away. “Here’s what we’re going to do: Hyde, you need to go meet the man whose info I sent you. Make sure he knows exactly what happens if he tells tales out of school. Rick, Zosha, we need to stock up on supplies as long as we’re planet-side. Having an extra person means food disappears faster. Shocking, I know. A list has been forwarded to you. Custer, Delphine, you’re trawling for information. It should be easy, they were apparently pretty infamous around here. Me, Annie, and Dom are going to stay with the ship. We all have work we can do while we’re waiting. Everyone got it?”

“I’m sorry,” Hyde said, “did you just say we’re sending Delphine out of the ship? Without the collar?”

“She knows what to look out for, Custer isn’t one of her main targets, she’s pretty sure we’re all going to get killed by her coworkers anyways, and she deserves it after the week she’s had,” Ingram said in the tone of a man who’d been on the receiving end of those very arguments. “That okay with you?”

Hyde snorted. “Whatever. Just don’t come crying to me when Custer gets his ass killed.”

“Noted,” Ingram said. “Any other complaints?”

“Here’s hoping I don’t regret this horribly,” Ingram said, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just know, if we end up swarmed by security, mercenaries, or angry small business owners, I will shoot both of you.”

“Duly noted,” Custer, giving a half-hearted salute. He turned to Delphine. “You ready to go?”

“Of course,” she answered.

“Great. Remember: everyone needs to be back to the ship in two hours. If, for whatever reason, you can’t make it in time comm one of us. Now, get out.” The captain turned and started talking to Annie in a low voice. She flipped her hair back and smirked at him. Delphine doubted they’d get much research done.

“So I was thinking,” Custer said, drawing her attention back to him, “that we could hit the square. There’s usually an outdoor market on weekdays, and the stalls have some interesting stuff. After that, there’s a pretty decent bar around here. I doubt you’ve ever gone bar crawling during a mission, which is practically a crime. Plus, information.”

“That sounds…” Delphine paused searching for a word to capture the warm, fluttery feeling in her stomach. She couldn’t find one that could properly convey it. “…fun.”

Custer smiled, the same manic grin as always but with a soft light in his eyes. “Off we go, then.”

And off they went. The crowd at the market stalls appeared to be thinning out and a few stalls had started to pack. Delphine wandered around the stalls, eyes roving over carvings, hand-made jewelry, and other pretty baubles that held no use. Custer, content to let her take the lead, trailed behind her.

There was a stall that sold knives. Delphine found herself disappointed in the wares; the few that weren’t purely ornamental were poorly made and dull. She passed over the stall, nodding at the owner, and found herself looking at a stall that sold metal jewelry. The pieces were beautiful, the few that were left. Delphine was ready to move on to the next booth when one of the bracelets caught her eye.

She couldn’t say why, exactly. It was a fairly simple gold number, broad, with a geometric pattern carved into it. The glittering bracelet was really more charming than beautiful, and certainly not useful at all. There was no reason to want it, and yet she couldn’t take her eyes off of it.

“Would you like to buy it, miss?” the vendor asked in heavily accented Standard.

Delphine forced herself to smile. “No thank you.”

“Are you sure?” The woman cocked her head, purple eyes unblinking. “I can give you a good bargain on it.”

Delphine was about to refuse her again when Custer cut her off.

“What kind of deal are we talking about here?” he asked with a smirk.

The wrinkled old woman put a hand over her heart and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “For you, handsome, eight chits.”

“Can you take credits?” he asked over Delphine trying to make eye contact with him in the hopes of communicating something along the lines of ‘please stop.’

The woman nodded and Custer handed over his card.

“What are you doing?” Delphine hissed. “I don’t need that!”

“But you wanted it,” Custer said amiably as the woman handed the card back and began to wrap the bracelet. “Oh, that won’t be necessary.”

“As you wish,” she said, handing the bracelet over.

Custer took it in one hand and held the other out towards Delphine. 

“Your arm, please,” he said.

Hesitantly, she reached out to him. Gently, he took her arm and slid the gold band over it, her skin strangely warm under the cool metal. It complemented her dark skin, catching the low, artificial lights of the marketplace. Delphine stared. Suddenly, her arm was something beautiful.

Custer thanked the vendor and tugged her along.

“So, I say we hit the bar. We still have a little over an hour, which means we have just enough time to stop in, get you a drink, and scrounge for whatever information these people might have.”

“I defer to your expertise,” Delphine responded. “Custer…”

“Yes?” Custer asked, sounding far too amused.

“Why did you do that? You just wasted credits on me.”

Custer snorted. “I did no such thing.”

“Then what do you call it? This doesn’t have any use. You can’t fight with it, or eat. It’s just pretty.”

“It makes you happy, though. That’s not nothing.”

“Yes, it is,” she said, frustrated. “Happiness isn’t a sustaining force. It’s just as useless as the bracelet.”

“What’s the point of living if you aren’t ever happy?” Custer asked. “Happiness, and that bracelet, are useful because once you’re done with all the fighting and running, you still have something. One way or another, Delphine, you aren’t going back to work for Mason Corporation, so you may as well give in and learn how to be happy.”

Delphine’s tongue felt thick and she wasn’t sure she could speak around it. It didn’t matter; she didn’t know what to say to that. 

They arrived at the bar after a few minutes of walking silently, but still hand in hand. It was dingy with neon lights and creaking floors that could barely be heard over the thrumming music. There were a few drunken patrons crammed into a corner playing some card game, the obligatory passed-out drunk leaning on the bar, and several flirting couples. Custer sauntered over to the bar, Delphine at his heels.

“Hello, there,” he said to the bartender. “Can I please get two Daltorian Sunrises, please?”

“Coming right up,” the bartender grunted. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Actually, yes. Do you, perchance, have any information on how any of the smugglers working in the crew of the Rabblerouser could be contacted?”

“Might. Might not.”

Custer smiled. “Well, if you could decide which one it is, my friend and I are with the Breakwater crew and we sort of need to talk to them.”

The bartender stilled. “You ain’t with the Breakwater crew. They don’t trade in this part of the system anymore.”

“I assure you, I am.”

“Prove it, then.” The man folded his arms and glared, although it came across as more of a belligerent squint.

“You couldn’t afford the property damage of him proving it,” Delphine said softly. The bartender looked from her, unnervingly still, to Custer, who certainly looked like a maniac. He squinted a bit harder, then sighed.

“Alright, you didn’t hear this from me, but they’re running blasters for Dunin at the moment.”

“Thank you kindly, sir. Now, about our drinks,” Custer said, his smile relaxing into something less nightmarish.

“Coming right up, your highness,” the bartender muttered.

Delphine leaned towards Custer. “Is it always that easy?”

“Sometimes, sometimes not. The Rabblerouser’s crew lost a lot of respect when they lost Lytos, so at the moment it’s smarter to bet on us than them. Our reputation precedes us, which is a tricky thing in our line of work. At the moment, it benefits us. Hopefully when that changes we’ll be able to overpower whatever comes after us.”

The bartender set their drinks in front of them. The glasses were simple, orange and pink and yellow liquids layered inside. Delphine looked at one curiously as Custer picked one up and took a long sip.

“When they were teaching us about information gathering,” she told him, “they said one of the easiest ways to get information was to get the person drunk. They made sure we knew not to get men colorful drinks, though. They said it would make them angry.”

Custer snorted. “I turn into a bear, I’m an apparently notorious smuggler, and I’ve killed more people than some of these backwater shits have seen in their lives. If they want to start shit with me because of what color my drink is, it’s on their head. Try it, it’s good.”

She did, and was pleasantly surprised to note that she agreed. It was tangy and a bit sweet, the sharp taste of the alcohol almost nonexistent, though she suspected there was more in the drink than the taste implied.

“What is this called?” she asked.

“Daltorian sunrise. As opposed to a Q’rren Sunrise, which is straight whiskey on account of the fact that there’s a huge dust cloud surrounding the planet that’s too thick for its sun’s light to get through, or a Fenian Sunrise, which is drinking until you’re intoxicated enough to forget you’re on Fenos.”

Delphine hummed, taking another sip. “We were told to not order anything with a high alcohol content because while we don’t get intoxicated easily, it’s an unnecessary risk. This is, of course, only if you absolutely have to drink on an assignment.”

“When all of this blows over,” Custer told her very matter-of-factly, “I am taking you on the bar crawl to end all bar crawls.”

And just like that, her good mood evaporated. The bracelet suddenly felt heavy and her mouth tasted bitter as her blood ran cold. Custer noticed immediately.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking,” he told her, suddenly serious. He leaned towards her. “I already told you, I won’t let anything happen to you. And whether it looks like it or not, the others are on board. The captain’s the patron saint of hopeless cases. No one’s going to make you go back to Mason Co., and turning you out on your own would be just as bad. We’ll get through this.”

“Custer,” she said quietly, looking straight at the bar, “I’m evidence. I could, at any time, go to any law enforcement agency with the right jurisdiction and tell them that Mason is making illegal splices for violent use. All I would need to do is let them run a few tests on me. They can’t risk that. It’s why Coleson didn’t want me on this. He knew my upbringing would be an issue eventually.”

“Yeah, well, Coleson’s going to die ugly,” Custer said, “and we’ve made evidence disappear before. This is just going to be a new version of an old trick.” He took her hand slowly, curling his fingers around hers. “Trust me.”

She wanted to, more than anything else, but now the fears were swirling in her head. Her mind wouldn’t calm down and her frustration at her lack of control only made everything worse.

“Hey, look at me a sec,” Custer said softly. Delphine hesitated, then obeyed. He opened his mouth to continue, but before he could the door to the bar burst opened.

Delphine whipped around, her hopes that it was just an aggressive local or a clumsy drunk evaporated as she took in the blasters at their hips. There were four of them, their eyes scanning the patrons before quickly locking onto Custer and Delphine. They definitely weren’t Mason’s, which was a relief, but that hardly meant they weren’t dangerous.

“Heard you been asking questions,” one said. Delphine turned and noticed the bartender was mysteriously absent. Around them, people not-so-subtlety tried to get out of the door.

“Might have been,” Custer said calmly, reaching for his blaster. “I don’t suppose you’re here to answer them.”

“Boy, you need to learn to mind your own business,” the man growled. 

Custer’s face split into a wide, sharp grin. “Or else what?”

The other men, almost definitely mercs, took that as their cue to start shooting. Anyone who hadn’t gotten out yet rushed for the exit, several of them screaming and stumbling on their way out. Custer and Delphine both ducked out of the way and the bolt smashed through Custer’s glass, splashing glass and the remaining drink onto the counter. They dove apart, Custer drawing his blaster and firing at the man who’d shot. Three of the mercs went for Custer, the remaining man heading for Delphine. It made sense. As far as they knew, Delphine was just some unknown woman hanging off of their actual target. She almost felt bad for the poor bastard.

He sauntered towards her with a smirk. “Now, I won’t hurt you if I don’t have to, but—”

Delphine lashed out at him as soon as he was in range. She felt her nails harden and grow longer as she rushed forward, grabbing her would-be attacker around the middle and driving him into the wall several feet behind him. He grunted on impact and Delphine pulled back and struck him in the jaw, not letting him get his breath back. He crumpled but was still conscious, going to his knees and waving his hands woozily as he tried to stand. Delphine let him flail for a moment, then kicked him in the head.

Behind her, there was a strange ripping sound followed by a shout. She spun around to come to Custer’s aid and stopped short.

He’d apparently decided that taking on three mercenaries in his human form was too much work because there, in the middle of a dingy bar on Saltos, was a huge, honey-colored bear swiping angrily at three very unhappy men. He caught one in the jaw with his massive paw and he dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, blood splashing across the floor. The other two got smart and quickly got out of his range, one in front of him and one directly behind him. Custer turned to keep them both in his line of sight, but they had the advantage on maneuverability. He thrashed, roaring and swinging his paws in wide arcs, and then charged forward when he failed to connect. The merc in front of him ended up pinned with his blaster sideways in Custer’s muzzle, keeping him from biting down. The second man took the opportunity to aim at the back of Custer’s skull.

Delphine realized abruptly that this was her chance. She knew, one way or the other, Mason Corporation would see her dead. It was inevitable. But this was an opportunity to get away from the Breakwater crew, or better yet, catch them unawares while they didn’t think of her as a threat. She could tell them that Custer was delayed somehow and, before they realized what was happening, finish her job. She would still die, but she could do so erasing the stain on her impeccable record. She could prove that one good thing—one functional, successful thing—came out of her cluster.

The thought didn’t have time to fully form before she moved forward. She didn’t want to be functional, she thought as she barreled into the mercenary, her bracelet seeming to radiate warmth that spread up her arm and gathered in her chest. She wanted to be happy and, if that was out of her reach, then she at least wanted to prove that for the last small bit of her life, she had been someone who helped her friends.

The struggle was short. He hadn’t noticed her until it was too late, and she had her claws dug into his shoulder and ribs before he could move. He grunted in pain and tried to buck her off, but she was stronger. She slammed her forehead into his and he recoiled, dazed. Taking advantage of his surprise, she slammed an elbow into his jaw. Unlike his comrade, he didn’t take the hit well and his eyes fluttered shut immediately. Standing, Delphine turned to see that Custer had managed to get the better of his attacker.

He made several low noises that Delphine, as a person who did not regularly associate with bears, had no way of interpreting. She raised an eyebrow and waited. Custer got the hint and shifted back. It was a jarring thing to see, but surprisingly not as jarring as having a naked Custer standing in front of her. The bar, suddenly, was very hot.

“I said,” he told her, “we need to get back to the ship. We got our information, anyways, and I think the bar is out of service at the moment. Oh, wait a sec.”

He dashed behind the bar and grabbed a blue glass bottle, then headed towards the door.

“Okay, now let’s go,” he called over his shoulder.

“What are you forgetting?” she asked just before he stepped outside. Custer paused, then looked down.

“Huh,” he said. “Yeah, it would be really weird to get arrested for public indecency after the afternoon we’ve had. Also, Leo would kill me.”

“I think our options are you running to the ship naked, me trying to explain why I have a bear with a mechanical paw, or we steal one of the mercenary’s pants,” Delphine said calmly as she failed to pull her eyes away from the angles and planes of Custer’s body. She managed to pull her gaze up to an acceptable height right before he turned around. 

“Stealing pants it is,” he said, walking towards where one of Delphine’s victims lay. She turned to give him a modicum of privacy as he divested the merc of his clothing.

The realization of what she had done swept over her but, to her surprise, she didn’t feel panic or fear. Instead, a warm, light feeling spread through her and a smile stole over her face. She had made her decision. This man was important to her, and she would keep him safe for as long as she could. Dying, it seemed, was a much less intimidating concept when she had something worth dying for.

“Alright, off we go,” Custer said, picking the bottle up and recovering his multitool from where he’d tossed it before shifting.

They walked back out into the cool air, people passing by on their way to anywhere. Either no one knew or no one cared about what had happened in the bar. The stroll back to the ship was quiet, Delphine still putting the pieces of her new life in order and Custer uncharacteristically silent. They stood closer together than normal, the heat of Custer’s body prickling along Delphine’s arm. She was a little surprised to notice that she was smiling.

“Have fun?” Annie smirked as they walked into the cargo bay.

“Actually, we got attacked by mercenaries,” Custer said happily. “But we got the information. Are the others back?”

“Hyde is, Zosha and Rick aren’t,” Annie said. “Who sent the mercenaries?”

“They weren’t Mason,” Delphine responded.

“The bartender who told me how to contact the Rabblerouser tipped them off that someone was snooping around,” Custer added. “They must have still had friends in the area from when they worked out of here. He didn’t seem like a ‘play both sides’ kind of man, so I’m honestly a little surprised.”

Annie snorted. “Go get cleaned up. Delphine, you can use the shower in Leo and my cabin.”

“Yeah, don’t do that, we all know how much sex they have in there. Zosha and Rick seem the types to keep it to the bed and, on special occasions, the wall, so if you want to try theirs they probably won’t mind.”

Delphine nodded to Annie and followed Custer towards the crew’s rooms.

“Alright, this is Rick and Zosha’s room,” Custer said, pressing buttons on the pad next to the door. “Now, Rick thinks me, Hyde, and Dom don’t know the code, so I’d appreciate it if you let him think you broke in through nefarious means if he asks.”

“Will do,” Delphine said. She stepped inside, awkwardly avoiding the evidence of other people’s lives as she made her way to the bathroom. It was small and clean, with an unused towel hanging by the shower. Delphine sighed as she stripped off her sweaty clothing and stepped into the stall, activating the sonics. She grabbed one of the bottles of body wash and squeezed some into her palm, rubbing her hands together. The tingling feeling of the sonics and the sensation of the fruity-smelling soap she lathered over her body erasing the strain of the day was amazing. She massaged her shoulder, soothing the aches, and rolled her neck. If she had ever felt this peaceful before she couldn’t remember it. Hurtling towards her death was the most comfortable she’d ever been.

Her mind wandered as she soaped herself up and, unsurprisingly, it wandered right into Custer. She wondered what would happen if she kissed him, if she touched him. She’d had sex before, both on assignments and with other splices to scratch the itch, but it always felt impersonal. Sex with Custer, she was sure, would be nothing like that. If she was going to start getting things because she wanted them and not because they were necessary for survival, then this was the top of her list. 

She imagined what his lips would feel like on hers, how his hands would feel against her skin.  He wouldn’t be gentle, she decided, because he knew she didn’t need him to be. She wouldn’t be handled like glass. It would be fun and passionate instead. She ran her fingertips softly up and down her sides, leaving her skin sparking like livewire in their wake. Arousal pooled on her belly, her thoughts a cloudy haze of Custer’s body under the neon lights. She forced herself to finish showering and step out of the stall. 

She toweled off and pulled her dirty clothes back on, grimacing and vowing to change as soon as she got to another set of clothes. The bracelet she carefully slid on with a smile, running her fingers over the designs. Unsure what to do with the towel, she folded it and laid it across the sink. Opening the door carefully, she peered out into the room but Rick and Zosha either weren’t back yet or hadn’t come back to their room. She padded out into the hallway and to the room she was pretty sure was Custer’s and knocked on the door.

A clean-looking Custer opened the door, smirking. 

“Hey. I filled Leo in on what we found out at the bar, and he’s trying to contact the captain of the Rabblerouser so he can try and work out a deal and, you know, make sure he doesn’t send more mercenaries after us. Now it’s just a waiting game.”

Delphine hummed in confirmation, stepping into the room. Custer was in a loose shirt and pants, his messy hair and bare feet oddly charming. The heat of her fantasies in the shower hadn’t left her and her body warmed in response to the sight of him.

“Do you have any idea on how to pass the time?” Delphine asked before she could think better of it.

Custer paused for a moment, surprise flitting across his face, before plastering a grin on his face.

“Why, Delphine,” he said, batting his eyelashes. “I’d almost say you’re coming on to me.”

“I am,” Delphine said. “You know I am. Are you interested?”

“That’s a very direct seduction technique,” Custer told her.

“Are you saying it’s not working?” she asked, her eyes sweeping over his body and taking in the pink tinge at the top of his ears and in his cheeks.

“I’m saying it’s a bad idea.”

“Why is it a bad idea?” she asked, taking a step closer.

“Lots of reasons,” Custer replied, swaying back but not moving. “Why do you think it’s a good one?”

“I like you,” she told him, looking into his liquid gold eyes. “And I want you.”

“Back at you,” he said, amused. “That said, you were our prisoner and also employed by the shadiest company I’ve ever come across until very recently. I don’t want you to be rushing into this.”

Of course she was rushing into this. She was running out of time.

She smiled at him. “I don’t see the point in waiting around. I know what I want, and it’s you. Don’t worry, I’m not going to go insane and try to murder you if you don’t want me back.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I don’t want you back,” he murmured, eyes running over her body.

“In that case, I’d very much like to get out of these clothes,” she told him primly. “Think you can be a gentleman and help?”

There was a brief flash of emotion in Custer’s eyes before a wolfish grin took over his face.

“Oh, I don’t plan to be a gentleman about it,” he said, voice low. He took a step forward and pressed his lips to Delphine’s.

This, she thought drunkenly, is worth dying for.

She pressed her tongue to the seam of his lips. His mouth opened with what sounded a bit like a laugh and a bit like a sigh and then it was all wet heat. Fisting her hands in his shirt, she pressed even closer to him.

“Mmm, get naked,” she sighed into his mouth. In another world, she would have hours to draw this out. In this one, the knowledge that at any moment this could all be ripped away pressed into her mind.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” Custer chuckled as he obeyed. 

“I’m plenty patient,” Delphine informed him as she undid the buttons on her own shirt. “I’ve waited this long, haven’t I?”

“Fair enough,” he said, stalling as his eyes ran over her exposed skin. Her body felt like it was about to burst into flames, and all he was doing was looking at her.

“Keep going,” she told him. Custer quirked an eyebrow at her and then, with surprising efficiency, stripped off the rest of his clothing and stepped forward. He cupped her chin in his hands, tilting it up to kiss her again. She leaned into it, caught between wanting to get the rest of her clothes off and wanting to never stop kissing him. After a few moments, the desire to go further than a lip-lock won out.

“I can’t undress if you’re standing right there,” she told him. He took a step back. Delphine ignored the fact that everywhere he had touched now felt cold.

“Don’t let me interrupt you,” he said teasingly and walked to his bed, sprawling out on it. Delphine’s mouth went dry looking at him, the sharp jut of his hipbones, the defined muscle of his chest… she shook herself and went back to the task at hand.

She undressed as gracefully as she could, as aware as ever of his eyes on her. Looking down at her arm, she pondered over whether or not to leave the bracelet on. She decided it couldn’t hurt and walked over to the bed, begging her knees not to give out before she reached it. Once she was close enough, she ran her fingers down his chest and stomach, the way the muscles contracted under her touch sending sparks through her.

“My eyes are up here,” he joked breathlessly. Delphine smiled at him, looking up.

“I know,” she told him, slinging one leg over his body so she could straddle him. “The view’s better down here though.”

She leaned down to kiss him again. He wrapped one arm around her waist as best he could, the other coming up to cup the back of her skull. The kiss was filthy and intense. It was already the best sex Delphine had ever had, and they hadn’t even gotten to the main course yet.

“Do you have…” her voice trailed off, unsure how to ask without damaging the mood. Luckily, Custer knew exactly what she was asking.

“Yeah, just a sec,” Custer said and she rolled off him enough to let him reach over and rifle through the drawer of his bedside stand. He pulled out a foil packet and had it opened and the condom on in record time.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much,” Delphine said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. She slid a hand between her legs and ran a finger over her sensitive flesh. Though she was still wet from what she’d been imagining in the shower, Custer wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination. Deciding it was good enough, she moved back on top of him. He grabbed her thighs.

“If you want to stop,” he told her, his face flushed but serious, “at any time—”

“I have twice your base strength and claws. If I want to stop, you’ll know,” Delphine told him. “I doubt I’ll want to, though.” 

“Good to know,” Custer said, then moaned as Delphine lowered herself onto him.

The initial stretch punched the air out of her lungs, and she knew she’d be feeling it the next day. She held herself still for a moment, adjusting, before rolling her hips experimentally. Custer groaned, his hands latching onto her hips, and she repeated the motion.

She had thought, distantly, that this would be a graceful, coordinated thing. It was not. Delphine leaned forward, grabbing the headboard to brace herself, as she ground down on him. The gasps and moans punched out of her would have been embarrassing if she didn’t feel so good. One of Custer’s hands was in a bruising grip on her hip, the other slid down to rub his thumb in small circles against her sensitive flesh, setting her blood on fire. Any second now, she thought as the pleasure began to collect like raindrops in her stomach, she would burst into flame.

Custer, for his part, looked just as wrecked. There was none of his trademark mania in him now, or the seriousness Delphine had grown used to. He looked wrecked, his pupils blown and a flush spread over his face and down to his chest. His stomach muscles flexed as he thrust his hips up to meet her.

“God, Delphine,” he groaned.

Delphine tried to think of something clever to say, but then he did something particularly clever with his finger and she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle a shriek. The heat inside her was steadily building to an inferno and, from the looks of it, Custer wasn’t going to last much longer either. She was seeing stars, almost as bright as Custer’s eyes, and her breathing was ragged. It only took a few more thrusts before she shattered apart.

Her vision whited out as she came, her body shuddering through the waves of pleasure that crashed over her. Slowly, the world returned to her. Under her, she could hear Custer moaning, both his hands now on her waist.

The pieces of her reassembled themselves slowly, although they fit together differently than before. Delphine felt, as she tumbled to the bed beside Custer, newer and more comfortable in her own skin than ever before. The same person, but better.

They lay there, panting. After a moment, Delphine began laughing. Custer rose up on one elbow, looking affronted.

“No, no,” she told him in between giggles, “it’s just, now we have to shower again.”

Custer’s face morphed into a leer. “You want a hand with that?”

Delphine was about to reply when the intercom above his bed went off.

“Custer, I need you to get Delphine and come to the kitchen. Family meeting time.”

Custer reached up to press the reply button. “On it. Um, but…” He looked over Delphine’s body. “Can Annie bring her another change of clothes?”

There was a very loud silence, followed by the captain saying, “I honestly don’t know what I was expecting. I honestly do not know how I asked you to look after the woman who, due to admittedly terrible circumstances, tried to kill and didn’t think once it would end up like this. Yes, I’ll have Annie bring the poor girl some clothes.”

Delphine covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her giggles but her eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Thank you, Captain, and I apologize for not following your admirable lead of sleeping with a random girl we find on a planet and then have to kill a warlord for. Truly, I see the error of my ways.” He released the button to lean over and kiss Delphine as the captain squeaked indignantly.

They lay there, just kissing, until a knock sounded at the door. Custer groaned quietly and rolled over. He grabbed his pants and swiftly hopped into them before opening the door. Delphine pulled the covers up to her armpits.

Annie’s face looked to be about half amusement, half resigned irritation.

“We are going to have a talk later,” she informed Custer, thrusting a bundle of cloth at him and peering around him. “Same goes to you, Delphine.”

Delphine suddenly felt awkward. “Thank you for the clothes.”

“Not a problem,” Annie sighed. “We’ll need to take you shopping sooner rather than later, though.”

Delphine frowned, sitting up. “What?” 

“Like Leo said. Family meeting, ASAP.” Annie nodded at them both, then walked back into the hall.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Delphine asked as Custer set the clothes on the bed.

“How would I?”

Delphine shrugged, still frowning, and reached for the pants. Some crises were best dealt with clothed.

“Have you ever heard of Helen of Sparta?” Custer asked as she tugged on the borrowed clothing.

“I… no, I don’t think so,” she said, wracking her brain.

“Old Earth Greek legend. Apparently, she was the most beautiful woman in the world so all the men wanted to have her. They all gathered and let her choose, and promised that they’d all respect her choice and help her chosen husband if anything happened to her. Anyways, she chooses this one man, but the Trojan prince asks the love goddess, Aphrodite, to help him kidnap her, knowing it’ll start a war.”

Delphine nodded, waiting for Custer to reveal why this was relevant.

“All I’m saying is, he started a lot of shit with a lot of dangerous people for a girl he never spoke to, he just thought she was beautiful. And I think you’re beautiful, and having spoken to you I am cripplingly fond of you, and so whatever happens in the meeting I just want you to remember that wars have been fought for less than what I feel for you.”

Delphine’s throat closed. The galaxy’s worst soldier and a weapon who was trying to be something more. What a perfect pair they made.

“Well, now that the afterglow’s officially ruined, I say we go see what Leo wants,” Custer said with significantly more cheer than he’d had mere seconds prior. Delphine allowed her mood to be lifted and nodded with a slight smile.

The trip to the kitchen was short enough that Delphine’s worries didn’t have time to take over her mind but long enough that they still planted seeds of doubt and panic. Everyone else was already seated at the table, their expressions containing various levels of exasperation.

“I just want to say before we get started,” Hyde said, “that the fact that none of us realized that this was going to happen is, in hindsight, frankly embarrassing. I would also like to add that under no circumstances are the two of you allowed to procreate while I’m alive.”

Dominic nodded seriously.

“Duly noted,” Custer said with his trademark smile. “We’ll be sure to murder you before starting a family. Don’t worry, it’ll be quick.”

“If you’re done,” the captain cut in with a glare, “we need to have a serious conversation.”

“We managed to get ahold of the Rabblerouser fairly quickly,” Annie said. “The mercenaries that went after Custer and Delphine must have tipped them off. They were wary, but willing to negotiate once we made it clear we meant them no harm. They agreed, and Zosha’s friend gave the Mason executives a very convincing show. They aren’t stupid enough to risk a multi-billion credit business over this. As long as we have Delphine and the Rabblerouser crew is willing to admit to smuggling U4 for them—that is, of course, as long as they don’t run the risk of getting arrested—Mason can’t move forward without taking a huge leap back.”

“And that’s what we need to discuss. The Rabblerouser’s captain wants Delphine,” the captain informed the room.

Custer stiffened, his smile suddenly cold. “And what did you tell them?”

“That it was a no-go. It’s understandable. We need their help to get Mason to stop sending people after us, but if we turn Delphine loose she could disappear—or worse, go back to Mason—and then they’re on the hook for being willing to testify against them and in the same position we are. I explained that we couldn’t risk giving Delphine to them in case they decided to try and garner loyalty with Mason. We agreed that, as long as we keep Delphine on a proverbial leash, they’d be willing to testify. The problem with our job is that the only reliable way to do that is keep you on the ship, which means you’d have to work for us. We don’t have the resources or, frankly, the inclination to take care of someone who isn’t contributing. Thoughts?”

“I…” Delphine shook her head, stunned. “I don’t understand.”

“The problem,” Ingram said, “is that you were raised to believe that Mason Corporation was omnipotent and infallible. In reality, neither are true and no one knows it better than the people who run it. The fact that we may or may not be able to cause an investigation is too dangerous. They’re backing off, at least for now. So the question remains. What do you want to do?”

“You’re really asking my opinion?” Delphine asked, carefully rearranging her understanding of her life.

“Of course,” the captain said. “We’ve already told you that we’re not willing to keep prisoners. Again, we don’t have the resources, and if you chose to you could make our lives very difficult. As it stands, we need you here, willingly, or we need to work out an acceptable alternative.”

Delphine looked at Custer, feeling truly, utterly helpless for the first time in her life. She would have been happy to die for him. The thought that she might get to live with him filled her with a terrifyingly intense whirl of emotions.

“Whatever you want,” Custer said softly, and Delphine knew he meant it.

She took a deep breath and smiled, small but true.

“I want to stay.”