“I didn’t think of it that way until we were apart.” Wren shrugged, downplaying her words. “Sometimes you don’t think too hard about things when you’re happy. You take things as they are, you know?”
Fallon took her time chewing, then finally answered, “Yeah. Makes sense.”
A companionable silence fell between them for a few minutes.
“Tell me about that assembly block you were working on,” Fallon said.
Wren brightened and launched into a speech full of technobabble that Fallon could only somewhat follow. She’d known what she was getting herself into when she asked, though. Wren loved her work, and it made her happy to talk about it.
Fallon’s mild unease with Wren wore off. They knew each other well. They had history. Fallon still enjoyed her company and had nothing to be uptight about.
Wren paused in her description of phase transducers, tilting her head to one side. “What?”
“Nothing. I’m just having a nice time.”
A smile lit Wren’s face. “Me too.” Then she launched right back into her mechanic-speak.
At the end of the evening, Wren suggested it was time for her to go and there was a pause where Fallon could have suggested she stay. She didn’t. She wanted the evening to be only what it was, completely at face value. She didn’t feel like she and Wren were in the right place for there to be more.
At the door, Wren leaned in, cupped Fallon’s face, and gave her a light kiss. Fallon rested a hand on Wren’s waist.
Then Wren stepped back. “Good night,” she said softly, her cheeks pink.
The doors opened.
“Good night. Thanks for…this,” Fallon finished lamely.
Wren only smiled, turned, and disappeared from view.
Fallon walked back across the living room she shared with Peregrine, her steps slow and ponderous. She didn’t feel like sleeping. Or working, either.
She half perched on the arm of the couch, wondering what to do. A sound at the door drew her attention, and a moment later Peregrine entered.
The doors closed behind her and she sent Fallon a questioning look.
Fallon shrugged. “Trying to figure out what to do. I’m used to having clear-cut goals and the means to achieve them, and there are just too many shades of gray in my life right now.”
Peregrine bounced farther into the room on the balls of her feet, looking like a prizefighter. “Sounds like you need to go a few rounds to clear your head.”
Fallon touched her head in the general area where Brak had implanted the inducer that allowed her to access her memories. “I’m cleared for normal activity, but that nasty jab of yours probably isn’t a good idea until we’re sure this thing will stand up to a beating.”
Peregrine dropped her fighting stance. “Too bad. I could use a good bout, myself.”
“Why? Something wrong?”
“Nah. Not really. I just miss the old days. Taking out assassins before they could ice their targets, rappelling down the side of the building for a hasty retreat, taking important things from important people.”
“Getting shot at,” Fallon pointed out. Their typical work came with a drawback here and there.
“Yeah.” Peregrine sighed wistfully. Apparently she had fonder memories of dodging stinger blasts than Fallon did. “I don’t mind being stationed in one place. I just miss the action. We could use something to break up the monotony.”
“I know. Sometimes it feels like we’re stuck in a revolving door, spinning in circles.”
Peregrine sat on the other couch arm. “I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining, but yes. There have been plenty of jobs where we had to sit tight, waiting for an event to occur, and I don’t mind that because we know what we’re waiting for. In this case, I feel like we’re operating in a void. Wasting time with so much meeting and talking.” She hurried her next words. “Not that we don’t need the meetings. I just…”
“Hate them,” Fallon finished for her.
Peregrine’s lips twitched upward. “I wouldn’t say that. But yeah. I’d rather do less meeting and talking and more doing.”
“Me too. We’ll get there. We just need to persevere through this part. Krazinski knows we can do the action stuff. But he doesn’t know we’re more than highly trained beasts. He doesn’t know how much we’re capable of as a team.”
Peregrine ran her hand over her long ponytail. “We’re playing the long game. I know. But maybe your time as security chief here has prepared you for it better than the rest of us.”
“If I can adjust, so can you.”
“Maybe. I’m not counting on it, though.” When Fallon started to talk, Peregrine cut her off. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll be here for whatever you need, giving it my best. I just don’t think I’m cut out for bureaucracy is all I’m saying.”
“None of us planned on being administrators. We’re just working the op in the only way we can.” If Fallon could have left all these meetings and planning sessions to someone else, she surely would have. And while she was wishing, she’d wish away her memory loss, too. But wishes were for children and fairy tales. All Fallon had was cold, hard reality.
Peregrine stood. “I’m not railing against my circumstances. I’m just wondering what it means for the future.” She sighed. “I know I have too much time on my hands when I’m thinking about the future.”
“How about we go to the training rooms and work on some target practice?”
“Stingers or knives?” Peregrine asked.
“Either. Both.”
The crinkle between Peregrine’s eyes finally smoothed. “Go grab your knives.”
Fallon fell into bed tired, but satisfied. Target practice always made her happy, and Peregrine’s spirits seemed to have lifted, as well.
She half expected Raptor to pull his nighttime commando routine as she drifted to sleep, but it was a call from Colb that woke her two hours before her usual time.
“What is it?” she asked the voicecom display in her room, using an audio-only feed. Colb didn’t need to see what she looked like first thing in the morning.
“I’ve figured it out. How we can get in. Meet
