New priority item: filing cabinet.

Amanda scrawled the words on the small chalkboard she'd found on her last scavenge, which now hung above the desk in her quarters, rubbing off old doodles of a Fallen skiff to make room for the note. The requisition blueprints she was receiving on the daily were starting to get out of hand, and she really needed a more official place to sort them than pinning them up around her room.

She added a few extra things to list, like power cells and spinmetal and about half the parts required to fix the broken Sparrows she also received far too often, and it quickly grew to span the length of the blackboard. Eventually she put down the chalk, stopping herself from filling the whole thing with things she needed. She'd either have to find a Guardian to thin out the list for her or go out for a scavenge herself.

"Be nice to get out of the Tower for once," she said to no one. It had been a while since she'd done a walk of the mothyards. It wasn't like the Tower was much concerned with patrols these days. Too much chaos to worry about spare bounties.

A knock cut through her thoughts. She balanced herself with a hand on her old office chair and frowned at the door. Her prosthetic was leaning against the foot of her bed frame a few feet away from her, and she currently didn't feel like hobbling over to meet her guest. "Come on in," she called instead.

The metal slid open and the familiar colouring of Cayde's ghost flew in, preceded by its Guardian.

"Hey, little dude," she greeted the shell, watching it alight on top of her desk. It whistled up at her, and she offered up a palm for it to rest on.

"Not bothering you, are we?" Cayde asked from the doorway, taking in her quarters. He'd been in here a few times before—mostly to deliver on debts owed through lost poker games—but his eyes swept straight past the piles of blueprints and spare parts and landed on her right leg. "Oh. Getting ready for bed then."

"Yeah, but it's alright." She bolstered herself on the edge of her desk, grabbed the rail beside her bed, and sat herself down on the thin mattress in the corner of her room. Cayde's ghost had poofed out of her hand and reappeared beside its guardian's head, cogs turning in silent conversation with the Hunter.

"What can I do for ya?" she asked, raising a brow at them.

"Nothing, really." Cayde moved over to the bookshelf next to her desk, poking at the old worn out tech she had on display. "Just bored."

"You hustled all the way down into the guts of the Tower to see me out of boredom?"

"Well, to be fair, I'm really bored." He looked over at her. "Zavala started talking about patrol route regulations, and I still don't think he realises I left."

She snickered. There was no end to the list of complaints she'd heard from Cayde about his lacklustre life, and the duties of the Vanguard filled most of that list. "Nice to hear you take safety so seriously."

"I do!" he insisted, picking up an old analogue alarm clock from one of the shelves and tossing it between his hands. "That's why I had to leave. Didn't want to die of boredom."

"Your ghostie there can just pick you back up if you do," she assured him. "And can you not play with my stuff? It's broken enough already."

He gave her a wounded look at the lack of trust in his handling, but he placed the clock back where it belonged on the shelf—and then picked up a small wireless speaker. "What about this? Looks less breakable."

"No."

"This?" An electric razor.

"How 'bout you don't touch any of my valuables and I won't go rootin' through your holster and play with that hand cannon of yours?"

She realised too late how that came out, and rolled her eyes to hide the flush of her cheeks when the plates of Cayde's face shifted into a suggestive brow waggle.

"Maybe that's the plan."

"I'll light your cards on fire."

"And miss beating me at poker? Never." His hand danced just over the handle of a pristine China mug, a very specific test of her patience.

"Least you finally admit you suck at cards." She cleared her throat when his fingers brushed the rim of the cup. "And who do you think you are, bargin' in here and touchin' all my crap?"

"Thought you said it was valuable."

She huffed and fell back on the lone lumpy pillow on her bed. "Maybe you should swing by more often. I'm exhausted just talkin' to you."

She watched him tug her chair over to him with a leg, and he sat down on it backwards, straddling the frame of the backrest. He settled his arms over the back and looked over at her, eyes bright blue in the dim warmth of the old bulbs hanging from the ceiling. She could tell he wanted something, but damn if Cayde ever gave a straight answer.

"Gonna watch me sleep then?"

He shrugged. "Still more fun than listening to Zavala."

"Weirdo." She punched her pillow and pulled her right leg into a more comfortable position on the bed, settling into the mattress.

"Sounds like you need a new bed," he commented, wincing at the twang of springs.

"Hard to get a hold of luxuries when I can barely get spinmetal from Guardians," she muttered, slinging an arm over her eyes to shelter them from the light. "A mattress is pretty low on my list of things to replace, Cayde."

"I could see what I could do for you. Be easy enough to steal a bunk from the hunger lounge," he offered.

"Rather have spinmetal if you're feelin' chivalrous."

"But where's the fun in that?"

"Not a lot of time for fun these days." The words came out before she properly thought them through, and frowned at how crotchety she sounded. Cayde was silent for too long of a moment, and she sighed. "Oh, don't mind me. Just grumpy and tired."

"No, you're right. Last few months have been rough with all this Crota and Oryx business." The chair creaked as he moved his body around, and she wondered how long it would hold out under his weight. He wasn't much taller than her, but being made of metal must make him a lot heavier than regular humans.

Another pause filled the space between them, and she heard a mechanical sigh escape him. "I can leave," he murmured. "Didn't mean to bother you."

"Not until you tell me what you came down here for. You owe me some glimmer I don't remember winnin'?"

He chuckled at that, and she imagined the warm yellow of his throat lighting up with the sound. "No, nothing like that."

"Then what?"

Exos didn't really need to clear their throats, but the noise he made was a good imitation of the action. "Just to… talk, really. Relax and unwind. Like I said, been a rough few months."

The honesty was enough to get her to pull her arm away from her face, and she squinted over at him in the dim light. "You alright?"

He gave her a grin that looked hollow and forced. "Same as ever."

Back to regularly scheduled non-answers, then. She patted the space beside her on the bed, a split decision she didn't bother to question the implications of. "Come sit next to me."

"What?"

"Said you wanted to relax, so come lay down."

He stared at her for too long, unblinking; even his ghost hung silent by his shoulder, looking pensive and tense. Amanda sighed. "I ain't gonna start fondlin' you or nothin'. But if you really don't wanna, you can sleep on the couch there. Don't mind if you crash here for the night."

He looked over his shoulder at the old sofa she had by the door as he seemed to consider his options. She closed her eyes again while she waited for him to make up his mind. Maybe she'd fall asleep before he decided, and then she wouldn't have to think about any of this. She'd been friends with him for Lord knew how long, but this was still a bit of a stretch for either of them.

Eventually she felt the bed creak from his weight, and the space beside her sagged as he laid down next to her. Amanda opened her eyes, trying to blink the heaviness out of them, and looked over at Cayde. He stared straight up at the ceiling, and his limbs were locked tight by his sides. Not really relaxing, is it?

She rolled her eyes and sat up, moving her pillow over. "Here," she said, and gestured to it. "Only got one, sorry. Should be big enough to share, though."

He looked over at it, and then to her. "What, don't bring a lot of people over?"

"If you mean as bed buddies, then no. I don't. Can't expect you get a lot either if you're down here messin' with my loot."

He grinned at that and shifted so that his head was on one half of the pillow, and she settled back down on her half. Their shoulders touched with the proximity, and she was pleasantly surprised with how warm he felt beneath his gear.

"People are intimidated by my authority," he told her, and she couldn't help the loud snort that ripped out from her nose. Cayde's eyes snapped to hers, surprised by the sudden sound.

She covered her mouth and laughed some more. "You sure do say a lotta dumb shit, Cayde."

"It's the truth!"

"Yeah, sure."

"It is!"

The rest of his protests were drowned out by more snorts and laughter, and she even heard his ghost snicker somewhere above their heads. Cayde took that time to pout when he realised she wasn't listening to him, even going so far as to cross his arms and pull his chin down to his chest.

She forced herself to calm down when he looked about ready to throw a tantrum, taking in deep breaths to break up the giggling. Still, the occasional laugh still escaped her, and she watched his face tighten with each stray chuckle. Amanda patted his bicep in a conciliatory gesture, rubbing her free hand over her nose in an attempt to sober up.

"I'm just messin' with you. You sure are easy to tease."

His pouting act dissolved with his grin, and he looked over at her, a fleeting expression of mock hurt still playing on his face. "And you're easy to rile up."

"Yeah, guess so." She sighed, content this time, and let her hands drop down beside her. It was at the same moment he let his arms unfold from his chest, and she felt her fingers brush over his.

Amanda figured she had two options then: make it awkward, or keep talking. She decided to go with the latter.

"You're really warm," she observed, looking down and grabbing a hold of his hand. If she happened to be using it as an excuse to touch him, then that was just an added bonus. "Didn't realise exos let off heat."

"It's the Light, too," he replied, watching her play with his fingers. "Makes all Guardians warm."

"Must be good snuggle buddies in the winter."

"If you need one, hit me up. I'll save you a bunch of glimmer on heating."

She grinned. "Will do."

The conversation stopped but she continued to hold his hand, and he continued to let her. Eventually she brought them back down on the bed, and under the cover of the dim light, she felt his fingers lace through hers. A small thrill went through her, but she squeezed his hand, and saw his throat alight with a contented hum out of the corner of her eye.

She managed to pull the thin blanket over them without disturbing their linked hands, and she settled into the pillow next to him, no longer quite so cautious of his shoulder bumping with hers. "You comfortable?" she asked, not looking at him.

"No. Your bed is horrible."

She waved his concerns off with her free hand. "Exos can't get osteoporosis, so you'll be fine."

He scoffed at her dismissal. "You're a terrible hostess."

"Least I don't barge into people's—"

It was his turn to wave off words. "That's not the same—"

"Oh, you bet your metal butt it is." She shifted closer to the wall on her side. "There, more room. Is that better, Mr. Intruder?"

"I mean you technically let me in, so I'm not an intruder." He shifted again. "No, still horrific. I'll definitely have nightmares."

She rolled her eyes. "I hope you do."

He let out a string of indignant grumbles that weren't really words, but she got the gist of his complaints. Amanda closed her eyes, trying to focus on sleeping now. Cayde was warm, and this was perhaps the most comfortable she'd been in a long time. She needed to capitalise on that before the night was wasted and she'd have to go back to working miracles on repairs with no resources to fix anything.

"Maybe I will get you a new bed anyway," Cayde finally said, interrupting her intent to sleep.

"I like my bed just fine."

"Well I don't."

"Never met anyone who complains as much as you do. Besides, you won't have to deal with it for long unless you aim to come back."

Her words brought on another stretch of silence, where she heard Cayde's answer to that question more clearly than if he'd spoken.

"You can if you want," she continued, rubbing a thumb over his. "I don't mind the company. Like you said—I don't get a lot of it."

There was a pause before he answered her, and she grinned when he finally did. "Just so long as I get to replace your terrible mattress."

"That's a done deal."

They even shook on it, and with that settled, she was finally able to be some shut-eye. And if she shuffled closer over to his side of the bed for more warmth during the night, then all the better.