She awoke the next morning feeling strangely at peace, despite the fact that she had only managed scant hours of sleep. The rebel healer had arrived shortly after Arturo’s departure, and Fox had bounced up from his sickbed as though there had never been a problem. She would help with the Banagher job that evening, so that Fox and Liam weren’t left unable to carry it out and then she’d be gone. So then, only one question remained. How did she wish to spend her final day? She dressed quickly and padded out of Celia’s room, then left Gretta’s. She knew where Liam lived, although she had never been there. He rented a small room, near where he’d found her when they first kissed. She began the walk over. It was early morning, just past dawn and the streets, while not empty, were calm. She enjoyed the walk. It was not until she reached Liam’s home that she began to feel apprehension.

She hesitated in front of the door, then hardened her resolve and knocked boldly. It took a few moments for Liam to answer. He peered blearily out from the crack he opened, then threw the door wide as he recognised her.

“Vis? Ether, um… come in.”

She flushed.

“I can leave.”

“No, no, don’t be silly. I’m just tired.”

She looked around the room. It was smaller than Celia’s room and largely bare. It was a soldier’s room, she thought with an amused quirk of her lips. Liam watched her quietly, waiting for her to state her business. She turned her attention to him – there wasn’t much more to look at anyway – and put her hands on her hips.

“I’m afraid of you,” she said.

“Okay.”

“And I don’t trust you.”

“Alright.”

“Could you just… hold me, for a bit?”

So, he did. They spent the morning in his bed, hiding from the world. Liam was patient, and responded to her touch rather than initiating his own. She found herself growing more courageous, feeling safer. That, in itself was dangerous. She couldn’t stay. She would never find out if this could be something. Love wasn’t for her. Finally, as the sun crested the sky, she pulled herself away. Liam watched her dress, not speaking, just sharing companionable silence.

“Spose you didn’t hear what the rebels said last night.”

He propped himself up on an elbow.

“Well, I’m guessing you have to work for them.”

“Yeah.”

He raised an eyebrow at her expression, “That’s a problem? You don’t like working for Red anyway.”

“Yeah. I won’t be able to see you any more, though. I won’t be able to see anyone.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he said, sitting up, “I’ve known a handful of rebels. They go about their business like usual, they just don’t work for the crown.”

“It is true,” she said firmly, “for me. Because of who I am.”

He rubbed his neck, “I see. Does Fox know?”

“No. Nobody knows.”

“But you’re telling me?”

She nodded. He stood, coming up behind her and wrapping her in his arms.

“Thank you,” he said.

She began to tremble as tears sprung up unbidden. He hushed her.

“It’s alright. If you don’t want to go, I’ll stop them from taking you.”

She laughed, harshly, “You can’t.”

“Yeah, well, I can try.”

She turned into him, and kissed him.

“Come on,” she said, turning to the door and pulling him with her, “I want to be outside.”