2.10.1

Certain Terms and Conditions

“Probably why she cut ties. She had to know we’d be looking at her to try to track the S.O.”

Astrid clasped her hands while she relived memories. The previous mission provided many firsts. Her first kill. Her first bullet wound. Her first grieved death. Every day provided a first, and though a hundred were thrilling, a handful changed her forever.

“You realize by now this isn’t your fault, right?” Anders insisted. “All these moving parts, all this stuff going on. It would’ve happened without you.”

“Some things are my fault, Anders,” she told him. “The actions of others do not grant me blanket unaccountability for my own.”

“You have to take break. This isn’t healthy.” Suddenly, the man stood. “You still have that music player we got you?”

“Of course.” From her pocket, Astrid withdrew the device Dell lovingly encased for her.

Anders took it from her and powered it on to flip through selections. Astrid blinked from her seat.

Prepared for an uplifting electronica tune, she gave a little start when instead, charming instrumentals rang from the tiny speakers. A gentle percussive beat set the tune to something enchanting. A song she often relaxed to when alone.

“You chose this?” Her brow knitted quizzically. “For the playlist I mean.”

“Yes.”

Astrid swallowed at his short response, afraid she offended him with her assumption otherwise. “It’s nice.”

She berated her lame choice of words and felt a wriggle in her stomach.

Squirrely, Tenya called it.

Anders extended his hand in expectation to where she sat. “Come on.”

She faltered over his abruptness. But the little twist in his lips evoked a charm that beckoned her, nonetheless.

Still, the Channeler felt a little nervous when she rose. Something changed, though whether he felt it too, she couldn’t be entirely certain.

Anders pulled her in for a gentle sway. Easy and unassuming. He held her as respectfully as always, and Astrid spent too much time analyzing what unfolded to really enjoy it.

Which, of course, he noticed.

“Are you uncomfortable with me?” Anders provided a minute increase in the distance between their bodies to accommodate. He looked prepared to withdraw completely.

“No.” Astrid immediately replied.

He gave another little grin at how quickly she responded. After a little spin he brought her back, a little closer, to their original position.

“I know there’s been a lot of rolling with the punches lately, but you need somewhere in all this you can be yourself,” he told her. “I’d like to help. But you decide whether you feel safe with me. Not me.”

Astrid struggled to meet his eyes. She instead peered into the dark. Though she crept a hand up higher on his shoulder, closer to his neck.

On the back of his candor, and increasingly discontent with ambiguities, Astrid found the will to confide.

“It’s not that I don’t feel safe, Anders. It’s just… I had a conversation with Tenya.”

“Oh.” His breath hitched on the implication. “I see. And what did she say?”

“She said we care about each other. And that we should stop pretending otherwise.”

To hear it put so bluntly, Anders broke into a laugh. His white noise energy brightened, as though their caution around the subject dampened him. Now, his body relaxed under Astrid’s free hand.

“Yeah, that sounds like her. Can’t keep her nose out of my business.” When his eyes fell back on the Channeler’s face, this time, she gazed back. “Our business.”

The way he looked at her made something totally unfamiliar pool in Astrid’s gut. She’d spent months under those fern eyes, and yet they still revealed something alien. And intense.

“I won’t say I haven’t thought about it,” he admitted to her. “You're incredibly brave. More than you realize. And unapologetically kind. In fact, I often find myself thinking of you, Astrid. But I didn’t feel it was appropriate to act on those feelings. You’re adjusting to so much already. And I am nine years older than you.”

“That’s… a big deal, is it?” Astrid wondered.

“That really depends on you. But it’s not all that’s at play here. I’m your commander. And I’m very aware you’ve made yourself quite malleable to adapt to your new life. You’ve undergone a lot of changes lately, and I don’t want to wonder if you’re entertaining my feelings because you feel you should, or that you can’t refuse. That,” he cringed, then redirected. “I don’t want anything to do with making you feel that way.”

His static tingled along her senses, over her arms and between the shrinking space between them.

With measured effort, she accepted what his energy no longer masked. In sweet sincerity, he bore himself to her. And when she finally stopped resisting the feeling, it thrummed between them in time with the enchanting music that bathed them. Astrid closed her eyes and, entranced by the phenomenon, submitted to a sensation that beat back all others.

It felt remarkable. How much care he took with her. How much care he always took with her.

In only a moment of indulging in the thrill it gave her, her necklace shimmered into an elated bloom.

She opened her eyes to see both their faces outlined with the pastel blue that shone between. It accentuated the line of a modest smile on the man’s lips.

He whispered through the air between them, “So, you do feel something.”

Astrid overcame her brief embarrassment that she could hide nothing while her crystal provided such an obvious tell. She felt it only fair to soothe the questioning wrinkle between his brows.

“I do, Anders,” she replied. “But you must know I’m inexperienced in this area. I don’t know what to do with it. And what about the Service? Isn’t this a problem?”

With her admission, Anders drew her more fully against him. His mouth hovered at her hairline, and she could almost feel the tickle of a kiss he held back.

“For the brass, maybe. But fraternization is usually something they slap on you as an afterthought when charged with something else. To most, it’s not worth the hassle on its own. Individual commands tend to be more pragmatic.”

“How so?”

“These kinds of teams are always gone for a long time, and with small crews. We’re just… closer,” Anders explained. “And Captain isn’t a puritan. In his eyes, having more to lose makes people work harder. But there are still rules of conduct for things like this.”

“In my case, I think rules help…” Astrid suggested.

“Well,” he continued, “We don’t get to play favorites, or all bets are off for a fraternization charge. It absolutely cannot affect things in the field, or with the crew, or one of is going to get reassigned. Even London can’t ignore that. It’s kind of like agreeing to take part in an open secret. If people know, it can’t be because of anything we did or said. We have to provide plausible deniability. We’re obligated to protect the others more than ourselves.

“And the mission always comes first. We don’t get to lose sight of the fact that it’s our job to be in danger. It’s not even really a job for us, it’s a calling. And nothing gets to compromise that. Even us. Nothing will get one of us transferred faster.”

Not only did his words remind Astrid of the complexities of their circumstances, but also that too obviously caring for someone could have him, or her, sent away.

And that was familiar.

The conditions on her relationships may have shifted since her time in Endra. But by mere centimeters.

The light in her crystal dimmed out.

“Even if I could wrap my head around this,” she told him. “I can’t shake the feeling there’s a reason Channelers aren’t supposed to… do this.”

Worried he’d feel rejected, which she certainly didn’t want, Astrid squeezed his fingers with hers.

When Anders brought the back of her knuckles to his mouth for a gentle kiss, it felt as though her whole body held its breath in anticipation for the tiniest brush of contact.

It manifested in a static shock that zapped his lips with a snap.

Astrid froze, mortified.

The man’s eyes shot open. Then he chuckled and relinquished his hold on her altogether.

“It’s best you take all the time you need,” he agreed. “For your sake, and mine. I’d feel better knowing you’re sure before we consider this further.”

Astrid already sensed the respectful distance return between them. More substantial than the single half-meter they stood apart.

“I’d like to. Consider it, I mean.” After the inadvertent zap, Astrid shrunk inside herself, embarrassed and flustered.

“I’ll be around, Lightning Bug.”

With a smile, Anders disappeared back into the dark, to give her space and to return to his duties.

As though his parting lifted a miasma, Astrid returned to a sobering and solid reality. Aboard the Aldebaran, they maintained responsibilities, and operations to prepare. Synched back with the rest of the known world, they sped toward a station, and then onto another Sanctuary likely to fall under attack and kidnapping.

Only then did she recognize how potent his presence grew. All the more reason, she surmised, to tread carefully.