It should have been so straightforward. Rescue Gat. Best friend back. Be, if not happy, at least marginally more secure in the fact that Zinyak was going to die in the near future. The very near future.

It wasn't easy, fuck no, but it was doable. Blue didn't even care that it meant Zinyak thought Johnny was the greater threat, in the end, she had her best friend back.

Except now emotions were coming into it. And not platonic 'I kill shit with you and love that because it's fucking fun, and your ass knows how to handle a gun, thank god.' but actual 'Oh fuck, he's hot' emotions. Worse, 'If he vanishes again, it might kill me.' was not just limited to Shaundi.

Which was not good. Blue had lived through Stillwater and Steelport not acting on those sorts of emotions, damnit. Stillwater held Aisha, and memories of Aisha. Too many to want to intrude upon. Steelport had been no Johnny. And the Presidency? Pffft, she'd been too busy! She had convinced herself, forced herself, to believe that all her heartache was from the loss of the deadliest best friend she had ever had. She'd even been able, a few times, to look back on certain moments and feel amusement more than pain. She had been healing, goddamnit.

But now... It was getting harder and harder to lie to herself. There was no Aisha now. Johnny was on the ship with them, or in the simulation kicking ass and saying fuck it to the names. Nothing was between them... except...

She muttered a few choice curses in French as she glared down at the streets of fake Steelport from the highest vantage point she could get without jumping to a Tower. This fucking sucked, and she didn't know a damn thing she could do about it except... avoid him.

"Hey Boss, you okay in there?"

"Fine, Kinzie. Just taking a breather."

"...okay."

There was a tone to Kinzie's communication that suggested the other woman wasn't buying it, but as long as she wasn't prying, Blue was willing to let it slide. It wasn't like she wanted to talk about this. Not with Kinzie, not with Ben, not with anyone if she could avoid it.

And avoiding shit was what Blue did best these days.

To say Johnny Gat was perturbed was putting it mildly. Blue had seemed fine. Normal... well, normal for her, at least, when she'd hauled him through that Genki-Bowl thing for the fun of killing shit with friends. Sure, they'd had some touchy-feely conversations that Miller had eavesdropped on, but on the whole, getting out and killing shit, even fake shit, had been a ball.

But now she seemed... well... weird. She brooded when she was on the ship, which wasn't typical behavior. And she wasn't talking much. Once she had stopped being so freaked out by leading the Saints to victory, it had sometimes been hard to make her shut up, so this was definitely beyond strange. And brooding? Shit, Blue was a doer, not a thinker!

Five years... maybe seven? He supposed people could change in that time, especially since she'd become President and all, but this seemed different somehow. More personal.

Well, there were two people he could ask that had watched her for the past half a decade or whatever. Of the two, he decided to start with Pierce; nothing against Shaundi, but pretty much everyone had told him how busted up she was over his 'death' on that stupid plane. And when Shaundi focused, she got pretty tunnel vision-y, so he wasn't so sure that her views of Blue over the past years would be as clear.

Pierce was, as usual, in the lounge of the ship, hat cocked to one side, and a NyteBlayde comic—fuck, he still kind of wanted to shoot Birk for fucking up the initial bank heist—in hand. He looked up when Johnny walked in though, and half-closed the comic curiously.

"Yo Pierce."

"Sup Johnny?"

"Gotta question for ya. You think Blue's avoidin me?"

"Uh... probably? She avoids everyone these days," Pierce said after a minute. "Says no one can handle a gun right, even in a fake world, so she takes care of everythin herself."

Johnny grimaced.

"Not like that, dumbass."

"Well, like what, then?"

"...look, you ain't stupid, you've had to have a steady or two. This feels... kinda like that, only she ain't talkin."

Pierce stared for a moment, looked around the room cautiously, then sighed.

"A'right, you didn't hear any of this shit from me, got it? Blue threatened to drop me off a skyscraper if I blabbed."

Johnny flopped into a chair, raising an eyebrow curiously. Pierce grimaced.

"You know Shaundi was all fucked up over what happened. It made her a bit more badass than normal, which, I guess was a step up. But it hit Blue pretty hard too. I mean, we joke that she's always pissed off, but it wasn't the usual 'I'll cap your ass and chill the fuck out', anger. And it wasn't like Shaundi's either, lashin out at pretty much everyone... Nah, Boss went cold as fuckin ice a few times. Some scary-ass shit."

Johnny frowned a little, leaning back in the egg-chair, and nodded slightly; when Miller had loaded up that virtual Phillipe Loren, Blue's 'happy' murderface had settled into the most neutral expression he'd ever seen from her, before shifting into the iciest. That hadn't been typical Blue behavior. And she had gone after Loren with her favorite bat, no super-powers, no gun, nothing. She might'velet him have the last shot, but she had done some serious damage before that point.

"After we dropped that giant disco ball on him, and took over that tower of Loren's, Boss went out and got real piss drunk. She was furious about not gettin to actually shoot him in the head n'shit," Pierce continued. "Came back to the penthouse stumblin into walls,and trippin on stairs, and all out ragin 'bout what she didn't get t'do to Loren. Way worse than Shaundi. I hid behind the bar when she started throwin shit... lucky me, the place was mostly empty cause everyone else was out doin shit, and once I dropped outta sight it was like she forgot I was there. She started... talkin."

And now Pierce looked decidedly uncomfortable. Johnny's eyebrows went up again, and he leaned forward in the chair.

"Talkin like you were there," he clarified. "Apologizin. Sayin... shit that'll get me killed if she finds out, okay?"

"Look, I ain't gonna tell her you talked 'bout this," Johnny said, curious and annoyed all at once. "So just spit it the fuck out."

"She liked you, man. Way more than just friends likin friend," Pierce said, his words rushed. "Talkin 'bout how she was glad you had Aisha, but she was jealous of her, and how she kinda hated herself for bein glad Aisha wasn't there no more, even though she knew how hard that shit hit you. Angry cause she hadn't said nothin b'fore cause she didn't want to wreck shit. Too scared t'change the status quo, or somethin like that."

Johnny sat back, stunned. Oh sure, he'd thought about it casually, but Blue had never put out any sort of recognizable signal that she might've wanted more than just being murder-friends. And it was hard to imagine Blue being freaked out, especially by something like that...

Then again, he'd never actually seen her express any sort of physical interest in anyone, and her emotions had always been on a pretty tight lockdown, even from the start. She might not've always had the finest grasp on technology, but psychology? She was terrifyingly smart. Hell, she'd swiped the gang right out from underneath Julius without even trying. Which was funny, considering that she hadn't even meant to do it.

"Course after that she found me in my hiding spot and threatened to drop me from a chopper if I didn't keep my mouth shut and get the hell out. Blue high is fun. Blue piss drunk and grieving? Scariest shit you ever seen, man..."

"Chicks are always scary," Johnny said a little wryly. "Specially when they're pissed."

"And can wield a two by four that'll take off your head..."

"Hey, she ain't gonna hear about this from me. Chill. And, y'know. Thanks."

Pierce nodded, though he still looked a bit edgy, and practically dove back into his comic while Johnny stood up and went back to the corner of the ship that was considered his area. Absently he picked up one of those pieces of wood that Kinzie had gotten from god only knows where, and pulled out his knife; whittling it into a tiny shape would help give his own thoughts some structure on the matter, and maybe he could figure out what he should do with this new information.

It wasn't like the idea of her being attracted to him hadn't been brought up before; it had. But she had shut it down so quickly that he hadn't really thought about it hard. Not to mention it had been a damn long time since then. Who was to say that she still thought that way? But that would make sense; she wasn't just avoiding calling him into the sim—as Pierce had said, she pretty much didn't call anyone in, though she didn't pitch a fit if they jumped in on their own—she was avoiding talking to him on the ship.

And that was just too annoying to let stand, really. If it'd been just the sim, sure, okay, he could go in on his own and pound shit, and she'd probably laugh about it. But not on the ship. That just wasn't cool. Made for bad working relations, and... damnit, if he had to admit it, he missed hearing her snide, sardonic comments. And okay, maybe her accent was kind of hot too.

He looked down at the half-whittled shape in his hand, recognizing the faint form of a curled up cat after a moment. That was Blue all over, right down to the 'don't touch me or I'll claw your arm up' claws. Question was, did he want to risk getting those claws used on him, or not?

He muttered a curse or three, putting the knife and the half-finished cat away. They'd been friend too long for this to stand, and she had jumped headfirst into his sim to get him out of it. Against the wishes of the two tech-geeks that were part of the Saints roster at the moment. Not to mention personally tracking him down as he murdered his way through the ship and risking getting stabbed herself by coming unarmored through the door at him.

So if confronting her on this crap was the way to help her, then damnit, he would... just as soon as he figured out how. Because he knew Blue; if she learned that he'd heard about this from Pierce, Pierce's life wouldn't be worth a dime. And he didn't doubt Blue remembered at least threatening Pierce about keeping a secret, even if she didn't herself remember what it was...

While she might not kill him—actually, she definitely wouldn't, he knew—pounding on Pierce wasn't exactly out of the question. And Johnny called her 'Bluebell' for a reason; she had a swing that would make a guys' head ring like he'd stuck it in a church bell.

But subtle wasn't exactly in his repertoire.

"Fuck it," he muttered, heading for the stairs. "Let's see what's goin on first."

The answer was: a whole lot of nothing. Blue was tucked into one of the bed... things that hooked back into the simulation. Kinzie was parked at one terminal, Matt at another, but neither one of them was looking particularly interested in what was going on.

"Yo. Jack me in."

Kinzie blinked and looked up.

"Going in to do the stuff the Boss isn't?" she asked.

"Sure," Johnny shrugged. "Let's go with that."

There wasn't a decent sky above fake Steelport, mostly because Zinyak's stupid ship was in the way... but also because there were three different moons, and absolutely no stars. Blue missed the stars; she had been a country girl before Stillwater, and one habit she had never lost was looking at the stars for strength.

"This is bullshit," she muttered, getting up. "Brooding isn't getting anything done."

"'ey yo, Blue. Where you at?"

"Johnny?" She blinked in surprise, and took a glance at what Kinzie had called a mini-map; this simulation was full of weirdly useful things like that. She didn't see any large purple triangle that indicated he was close by, but... "What're you doing here?"

"Got bored. Wanted to kill shit. You in?"

"...yeah. Sure. Why not? Where are you?"

"Map thing says Bridgeport."

"All right."

Killing things was easier than thinking about them. And when it came to Johnny, he was definitely tough enough to handle whatever the sim could throw at him without needing a lot of extra help.

So Blue got up, super jumped off the building, and glided her way towards Bridgeport. Her landing as less than adroit, but she had the reflexes—at least in this fake world—to turn the graceless landing into a neat tuck and roll that hid the failure. And to give him credit, Johnny only smirked at her instead of making a smartass comment.

"So, what did you have in mind?"

"Let's go murder some Zin."

She pulled up the 'menu' screen and looked on the map for the nearest flashpoint; with Johnny as backup, this was going to be fun.

And she was not going to let herself think about anything else.

It had always been fun to kill shit with Blue. Her baseball bat, and habit of just straight up kicking the shit out of, oh, everything, was always fun to watch. She had always been way more physically into fights than most everyone else; if there was an opportunity to use the baseball bat, she took it. Granted, in reality, she'd been shot so many times they had joked about needing a magnet to get all the bullets out, but it had never stopped her for very long.

He'd never really thought to wonder why she might be like that.

The question got pushed away pretty quick as they went from flashpoint to flashpoint, killing virtual Zin and claiming pieces of territory for virtual Saints instead. Killing shit was fun, damnit, and killing shit with the best friend was even more so.

When they'd finished off five, Blue held up a hand for a break.

"What, you getting old, girl?"

"Super powers or not, I will chuck you off the dock," she threatened.

"But you're all tired," he mocked gently. "You'd have ta catch me first."

"Gaaaaat..." the drawl was accompanied by a glare that was just shy of actively hostile. "I will."

He grinned and held up his hand.

"Aw'right, aw'right, truce. You still suck at takin jokes about age."

"You're older than me," she pointed out. "It's not my fault I wasn't stuck in a tank for five years."

The jab hit home, and he looked away, not sure whether he was being insulted or complimented.

"Merde..." he heard her curse. "That's not what I meant. Sorry."

Blue's apology was enough of a surprise to make him glance at her; she used to be shit at them, so she almost never offered one. She did look angry, but there was remorse there too. After a moment, he waved his hand lightly.

"Whatever; so what did you mean?"

"I..." she looked away. "Nothing. It's not important."

"Y'know, I'm thinkin it is..."

"Thinking isn't exactly your strongest suit," she retorted.

He was tempted to snap back, say something cutting about their shared history, but managed to bite his tongue in time. He knew Blue... she had a reason she was riling him up, and he had to not let her if he wanted to get more out of this sim jump than just territory.

Besides, she was right. So instead, after a moment, he shrugged acknowledgment.

"Okay, so maybe it ain't. Still. Somethin's buggin ya."

"That's why you came in," Blue said, giving him a narrow-eyed stare. "Not just to kill shit. I appreciate the concern, Johnny, but I'm fine."

"Yeah?Then why don't you talk to me no more?"

Thoughtful became confused, and a little bit wary.

"We are talking right now..."

"That ain't what I mean, and you damn well know it, Blue," he snapped. "Look, I know your two techno-geeks didn't want you ta pull me out of my sim, but you did it anyways. Why'd you do it if you're not even gonna hang out like we used to?"

She shifted backwards slightly, clearly startled by his vehemence.

"You're my best friend. I owed you that rescue. And I owed it to Shaundi to get you back too..."

"You ain't the owin type Blue."

Surprise faded back into wariness, and there was a hint of hostility now.

"You don't think I can change in six years, is that it, Gat?" and there was frost in her tone, not the heat he'd expected. Blue's temper was explosive, but this...

Johnny sighed, and held up his hands. If he didn't calm her back down, he'd never get to say a damn thing about the whole point behind jumping in.

"Nah. You changed plenty from first time we met til last I saw ya. But you're tellin me you didn't come in fer yourself? Not even a little?"

Blue made an exasperated sound, running a hand through the deep blue afro.

"I already said that you're my best friend," she snapped. "O course I went in for myself. There's never been anyone else like you, Johnny..."

Abruptly she turned away.

"I'm going back to the ship. Have fun."

A split second to react; his super speed against her super jump. The collision knocked them both into the fake water, and Blue came up with a splutter of pure annoyance.

"What the hell?"

"You're ignorin me on the ship, Blue," he retorted, hand wrapped around her wrist. "We need ta talk, but you ain't, so I'm gonna. We can do it on the ship, where we'll get us some privacy, or we can do it here, where your two techies are listenin in and probably recordin."

The flurry of French wasn't something he understood outside the swears... But the tone was vicious enough that he wanted to cover his crotch with his other hand; Blue had a mean kick, and even if it didn't translate over to reality, a kick in the balls was a kick in the balls.

"Fine," she finally snarled. "We'll talk on the ship. Kinzie! Tell CID to find somewhere else to float idly for a time!"

"Ah, yeah Boss... Sure!"

"...happy? Want to let me go now?"

After a moment, Johnny shrugged and did so.

"Sure. We're gonna be on the same ship."

She bared her teeth in a gesture more snarl than grin.

"Why did I want to rescue you again?" she muttered. "You're such a dick."

"My charming personalt-"

She shoved him under the water, using him as a springboard for her jump to shore. This time it was Johnny's turn to come up in a splutter of fake water, just in time to watch her super-speed her way off towards the nearest portal.

"Um... Johnny, just what are you doing?" Matt asked tentatively.

"Probably getting my ass kicked," he said as he returned to shore. "No eavesdroppin. Got it, kid?"

"Yes, yes, I've got it. Just... be careful?" Matt's voice lowered. "She's really annoyed... I think I'll be glad she doesn't have super powers in real life..."

Despite the fact that he knew he'd be walking into an explosive situation, the comment made Johnny laugh in agreement.

Blue's temper was on the short side of civil. Matt had cringed as she'd come off the bed, and Kinzie had been nowhere in sight. On the bright side, this meant that CID was also nowhere in sight when she stomped into the room the floating eyeball typically occupied. The one with the mattresses. Why he'd chosen that one...

She yanked her thoughts away from the question; Johnny had succeeded in backing her into a conversational corner. She didn't like that. There were things she wasn't ready to say, things she was never going to be ready to say... And he wanted to.. what.. talk? Johnny wasn't one to talk. They had that in common; when it came to conversation versus explosions, explosions always won.

There wasn't enough space in the tiny room to pace. But fortunately, Johnny wasn't the type to keep a girl waiting either; not even two minutes after she'd stomped in, he was there too, looking far calmer than he had any right to look, damn him.

"What is there to talk about?" she demanded as the door cycled closed behind him. "Do you want every intimate detail on how the Saints suffered after you vanished?!"

"Not everyone. Just you."

She hadn't expected the directness of the comment, and it made her catch her breath in shock. For a moment she stared at him, then abruptly looked away, at the cold metal wall.

"There's nothing to say on that subject," she said, trying hard to keep her voice flat.

"I think there is," he retorted, moving closer. "You're always tellin me Shaundi suffered, and hintin Pierce did too. But you ain't never said a damn thing about how you dealt with it, and I'm thinkin ya didn't."

"Why're we talking about this?" she demanded, knowing her tone was defensive now, that she was trying to put distance between them, but the room was too damn small. "There's no point to it! You're not dead, and..."

Her voice caught; she couldn't make herself look at him as the memories rose, unbidden. She hated her vivid memory sometimes... Blue swallowed hard, and clenched her hands tightly.

"Look, you said I'm your best friend," and his voice surprised her by being gentle. "Best friends talk about shit that bugs em, and don't judge..."

"At least not out loud," she muttered.

"I ain't gonna lie; trapped in that hellhole, I did kinda forget you existed. It was like you were never in my life with the way that thing was run. Every time... runnin in ta save Aisha... I knew someone was missin. Someone who'd always had my back. But I couldn't remember who til ya broke me outta it, Blue. Don't that say somethin?"

She took in a slow breath. Let it out.

"You don't want to hear what I have to say," she said flatly.

His hands touched her chin, turning her face towards him. Normally she hated being touched by anyone, but Johnny had always been able to get away with this sort of shit. So she looked, reluctantly, and got another surprise; Johnny had tipped up the omnipresent sunglasses so that she could actually look him in the eye.

"I do," he said firmly. "Cause Shaundi's better, if crazy-protective now. You though? Shit, Blue, unless we're murderin shit in the sim, we ain't talkin. It's not exactly somethin either f'us are good at, but I'm tryin. You wanna try too? Or should I just walk on out, and consider our friendship over?"

"I..."

She went quiet. Sighed. Pulled away from his hand. Emotional extortion was such bullshit.

"I'll... try," she said, somewhere between sulky and defensive. "But don't expect too much."

"A'right. C'mon. Sit."

They perched on the mattress together, and Blue folded her hands loosely between her knees, staring down at the floor. She didn't want to talk about it, but neither did she want to give up the friendship that had carried her through most of the shit that had started in her early twenties.

"What'd you do?" he asked.

"I drank," she said quietly. "Not always to the point of blacking out, but I got pretty wasted on a regular basis. Killed shit. Smoked shit... I tried to find something to replace... that spot where you were. I figured you'd be pissed if I just wallowed in guilt and grief, so I tried to keep it light, relaxed... You know..." and Blue's lips quirked slightly in a pained smile. "No one ever questioned it, so I guess my act worked. I only really screwed up one time... scared the shit out of Pierce, I think... There was always so much I thought I could say if I'd just had more time. But... merde..."

"Like what?"

She scoffed a little.

"Nothing important now."

"No, I think it is," and Johnny's voice surprised her with how thoughtful it was. "I mean, if you've been sittin on it this long, it's gotta be big. Just spit it out, Blue. I ain't gonna judge."

"Yes, you say this now..."

"...well, if it'ssomethin funny, I might tease ya about it," he offered.

Despite the heavy mood, she had to smile, even huffed out a sound that was almost a laugh.

"You're such an asshole. It's not fair."

"Aww, but that's one of my most loveable traits."

Now she snorted, and glanced sideways at him. After a moment, she freed a hand and slugged his arm, very lightly.

"No, what's... loveable about your annoying ass is that your attitude is a good cover for the fact that you're a nice person underneath it all."

"Aw, hey, c'mon, why you gotta insult me like that?"

His expression suggested mock-wounding, and she chuckled a little.

"Because it's fun. Besides, it's true." Blue went quiet for a moment. "You know, after I woke up from my coma, and we started trying to fix shit with the Saints again, I ended up being jealous of Aisha. And then I hated myself because she was killed and it was sort of my fault for starting all that shit off again, so I buried it. I told myself that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that you'd look at me the way you used to look at her, and it wasn't fair to her memory if I said something."

It was like the words had minds of her own; now that she had started, it was almost impossible to stop speaking. The need to vent everything was stronger than her need to preserve her dignity.

"So I stayed silent. Even long after we took over Ultror and the Saints went from street gang to money machine. Shit. We shouldn't have done that, you know? Getting in over our heads with that, getting complacent; there wasn't anyone we could pay off, no rivals could touch our turf... I should've known better. I thought... I thought I'd have plenty of time. I'd work out what I could say, I would, and then I'd say it, and maybe you'd think I was a dumbass, but maybe you wouldn't and I'd at least know, but there was never a moment that seemed... right. And sometimes it seemed like Sahundi's hero-worship was turning into a big time crush. Who was I to get in the way of that? I liked how we worked together... in the end, I didn't want that to change. I would rather have watched you be happy, and stayed a silent friend than ruin a good working relationship.

"And then it seemed like Loren killed you. All my chances for... anything... all gone. You've always been in here," and lightly she thumped her breastbone with a fist, though she was no longer looking at him, "and I never believed that crap about two people making a whole person; I am a whole person, damnit. But you're a part of what made me that person, and maybe you were even a crutch for that person... Because without you, my purpose narrowed to the goal of killing Loren. I didn't give two shits about Steelport, the Deckers, the Luchadore, or the Morningstar. I wanted Phillipe Loren dead, and when that was done, I wanted to go home.

"Killbane didn't let me go home. There was no quiet funeral procession, no sharing of memories or grand speeches... Instead there was vengeance, and destroying every last bit of the Syndicate I could get my hands on. Because you were the most important part of me and mine. Revenge was hollow, and I didn't even fully get it in the end..."

She folded her hands again, and closed her eyes, waiting; now he finally knew the truth of the matter. Whatever people said about Johnny Gat, he wasn't slow, or stupid. Maybe oblivious at times, but then, she had never gone out of her way to show him any signs of wanting beyond what she had. Because she had spoken God's own truth; if he was happy, she would not interfere. Never.

The silence was thick. Almost too much to bear. But she didn't open her eyes, didn't look up. She had said her piece. Now she just waited to hear his reply.

Johnny didn't know what to say to that, really. It was sort of stunning to hear her lay it out so bluntly after all that fuss, but she had always been a straightforward sort of person.

"Shit, Blue," he finally said. "You've been sittin on that for this long?"

"Yes."

"Because you wanted what was best for me, and the Saints, and not you?"

"Yes."

"...you gonna punch me if I hug your stupid ass?"

"Y-what?"

Her head came up, which was a bit of a relief; the dejected, beat down pose was not Blue.

"You gonna punch me if I hug your stupid ass?" he repeated.

"I..eh... ah..." She blinked a few times, staring at him in surprise. "You want to... hug me?"

He scoffed a little.

"You are hot as fuck, woman. I wanna do a lot more than just hug you, but I'd kinda like some guarantee I'm not gonna get my head punched in if I do. Considerin how much you hate bein touched and all."

It was actually kind of funny seeing her at a complete loss for words. It had happened so rarely, after all.

"Then... you're... okay with this?"

"Yeah."

"I..." a half smile, disbelieving, started at one corner of her mouth, then worked across her face. "Well... okay then. I guess. Sure. Hug away?"

He pulled her upright, and made the hug a tight one; after moments of passivity, her hands crept up and curled in the fabric of his shipsuit. Not that there was much loose fabric; he filled the thing out a damn sight better than pretty much anyone. Her hair smelled faintly of the oils necessary for her hair care—where, he wondered absently, did Kinzie get any of the shit they actually needed?—and the curls were soft against his skin as she pressed her face against the side of his neck.

Under his hands he could feel the tight muscles of her back that slowly relaxed bit by bit as he made no indication that he was interested in letting her go. And to be certain, he damn well wasn't. Blue's aversion to being touched was legendary, so he was going to take advantage of the permission as long as he could. Hugging was just the start.

But when he felt her start to pull back a little, he loosened his grip; he didn't think he was freaking her out, but he wasn't about to try and hold her against her will. But she only leaned back enough to look at his face. He'd half expected her eyes to be wet, but then, Blue had never been big on tears, emotional moments or not.

"I can't replace Aisha. And I wouldn't want to. But... do you think we have a shot at this?"

He blinked. Grinned a little. And lightly rested his forehead against hers. He'd never really noticed her eyes were that shade of purple-blue before... They looked good against the brown skin.

"Yeah, Blue. I think we got more than a shot."

They leaned in at the same moment; for Blue the kiss was not stars and fireworks... but it was warm and surprisingly tender. Proof that you could fight with someone, have their back, and still not know them intimately.

And good god damn was she more than ready to know him intimately. Desire rushed through her system, and she pushed herself closer, wanting nothing more than him. He pulled back briefly, and reluctantly she let him; he had done the same for her.

But he only grinned at her again.

"Think we can lock the door for a bit?"

Blue couldn't help but grin back.

"Yeah. I think we can."