"I said that with affection."
"Say it with less affection and more groveling."
They bickered as we left Operations, that comfortable back-and-forth of couples who'd found their rhythm. Zor'go and I followed, his hand finding mine automatically, his stride adjusting to match my shorter legs.
"Dinner at 1900," I said. "Bea's hosting. Elena and Vaxon will be there."
"That's a disaster waiting to happen."
"That's entertainment waiting to happen."
"You're cruel."
"I'm practical. If they're busy arguing with each other, they won't notice how much time Maya spends staring at nothing orhow Garrett flinches every time someone moves too fast behind him. Distraction serves multiple purposes."
Zor'go stopped walking, pulling me to face him. His ice-blue eyes studied my face with uncomfortable intensity. "You're taking care of everyone again."
"Someone has to."
"You're allowed to need care too."
"I have you for that."
"Yes. You do." He cupped my face with one large hand, his touch impossibly gentle. "Every day, Jalina. Not just when you've reached breaking point. Every day, you're allowed to need me."
My throat went tight. "I'm working on it."
"Work faster. I'm patient but not infinite."
"Noted."
He kissed me then, right there in Mothership's corridor while crew members flowed around us with varying degrees of amusement and exasperation. When we broke apart, his markings were doing that rapid pulse-shimmer again.
"1900 hours," he said. "I'll bring wine."
"You hate Bea's wine."
"I love you. Supporting your friends requires occasional sacrifice."
"That's the most romantic thing you've ever said."
"The bar is concerningly low."
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. "Come on. We have six hours before dinner. I want to show you the new courtyard designs for the Talaxian sector. Maya and I developed a gravity-transitional space that?—"
"Uses differential pressure zones to create species-specific environments within a shared framework?" He pulled up the schematics on his wrist display. "I reviewed them this morning. Brilliant work."
"You reviewed them and didn't tell me?"
"I'm telling you now. They're brilliant. The mathematics are elegant. The spatial design is inspired." His markings flickered. "You're becoming an exceptional architect, Jalina."
"I had a good teacher."
"You had adequate instruction. Your talent is innate."
We reached the observation deck, my favorite place on Mothership, where floor-to-ceiling viewports showed the infinite dark beyond. A handful of crew members occupied the space, but they gave us privacy, the universal courtesy of recognizing a moment.
Through the viewport, stars stretched in unfamiliar configurations. The Shorstar Galaxy, where we'd been flung by wormhole chaos and cosmic indifference. Where we'd built lives from wreckage and hope.
