On the morning of the handoff, tension hung about the cabin like cobwebs.

Eli could feel them hanging there, brushing against his skin, before he even opened his eyes. Nerves seeped from Banneker’s rapid clicking in the other room, from Sherry’s halted shuffling around the kitchen downstairs. From Ambrose’s tight grip around Eli’s middle as they laid in bed.

“Hey.” Eli patted Ambrose’s arm, then twisted around to smile at him. “Big day today.”

“Suppose so,” Ambrose mumbled. His blue eyes were wide open, searching Eli’s face as if trying to memorize every detail of it. Eli wondered how long Ambrose had been lying there like that, awake and staring at him.

“You nervous?” Eli touched his cheek. Ambrose closed his eyes and sank into the pillow. “Excited?”

Ambrose’s smile wavered as he nodded against the pillowcase. “Both.”

Eli leaned in and kissed him, trying to infuse his own excitement into the gesture. In three days, they would be on a plane to Santa Barbara, leaving the lab and the icefall and the secrecy behind. In three days, Eli would take Ambrose on their first date.

“You’re going to do great,” he whispered, his hand lingering under Ambrose’s chin. “It’s just a quick handoff, and we’ll celebrate as soon as you’re home.”

Ambrose took hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles. When he spoke, his voice frayed at the edges. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“You’ve done plenty.” Eli dragged him close and shifted to kiss his jawline. “But I’d be happy to, ah,” he let his lips trail down his neck, “take my time reminding you tonight.”

He felt something catch in Ambrose’s throat before the man’s hand gently pushed on his shoulder. “That sounds lovely, but…for now, I should really get ready to leave.”

Eli let him slip past—after stealing one more kiss, of course—then watched from the bed as he dressed. As Ambrose buttoned himself up, his pre-mission nerves slipped down around him like invisible walls. His eyes dulled, his posture grew more stiff. By the time he was adjusting the cuffs of his sleeve, Ambrose was as unreadable as the day they’d met.

#

Once Ambrose and Sherry had driven off, all tight-lipped smiles and nods goodbye, Eli began puttering around the cabin himself, trying to shrug off the thickening tension in the air. He first dug up a black button-down and ironed it as best he could—he had to look nice for when Ambrose returned, after all—then began his hunt for some decorations.

“Banneker,” he called as he rifled through the hall closet, his voice echoing, “did you use up all the balloons for Ames’ birthday?”

“Um…” Banneker was hunched over the kitchen table, swiping through his phone with a blank stare. He tapped and swiped a few more times before looking up. “Uh—probably. Yes.”

“Streamers, too?”

“Sure.”

Eli frowned and closed the door. Between Banneker’s distance and Grim’s looming presence in their office, he was under the firm impression that everyone in this cabin needed a nap and possibly a good vodka shot. “Fine, no decorations. But Sherry picked up champagne, right?”

He opened the fridge. No champagne.

“That was on me, I think,” Banneker said quickly. “Sorry, I forgot.”

Eli slouched and ran a hand through his hair. “S’alright. I’d run out and get some, but they took the car, so…” He drummed his fingers on the countertop and surveyed the pantry. His eyes landed on a half-empty pack of chocolate chips. “Cookies it is. Banneker, you wanna help?” He leaned towards the hall and raised his voice. “Grim, you wanna help—?”

“No.”

“Okay!”

#

Eli thought that the smell of softened butter, smooth vanilla, and melted chocolate chips would perk up Banneker, just as it always did when Sherry baked. But the hacker just kept chewing his fingernails and glancing at his phone every five seconds, even as he waved a pan over the cookies to cool them.

“Taste-test before I clean up?” Eli held out the dough-covered spatula to Banneker, who shook his head and tapped at his phone for the tenth time that minute.

“No thanks.”

Eli tossed the spatula into the sink. “Alright, what’s going on with you?”

“What?”

The thin way Banneker said it made Eli’s nerves twist.

“Come on. You haven’t smiled once today, you can’t stop looking at your phone, and you didn’t even try to put hot sauce in the cookies.” Eli took a warm cookie and handed it to him. “What’s up?”

Banneker cracked a small smile as he bit into the cookie and wiped a few crumbs from his face. “I’m just…nervous for Ambrose, I guess.”

Eli tried to take on a more confident air for Banneker’s sake, waving a hand as he rinsed out the mixing bowl. “Come on, he’s been through a lot worse.”

“Has he?”

“Well, yeah.” Eli frowned and turned off the water. “He’s just passing off the research today, isn’t he? He’ll be back here any minute. Then we’ll celebrate, pack up, and fly out to Santa Barbara together.”

Banneker stopped chewing and slowly put down the half-eaten cookie. A cold dread immediately settled into Eli’s stomach.

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Banneker asked quietly. Eli set down the bowl with shaky hands.

“Tell me what?”