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“You’re welcome.’
The task at hand started when he’d volunteered after breakfast, when Hela had mentioned it, and she’d seconded his offer. The drones could completely plant a new patch and taking care of the current crop, but doing things by hand was a habit Hela instilled long ago.
“I always thought we should do a flower part in here, a place to sit where they bloom. Unfortunately, most of these don’t bloom, but they grow in their own way and are no less pretty for it.” She dropped seeds into the holes of another planter, using a short shovel to make the opening.
A full grown orange tree blossomed in the hydroponics bay with a small patch of grass, but it laid over in the corner, out of the way.
“Oh, like I did in your Astrium? To make it look nice?”
“Yes. That resembles more of a clearing in the forest where you could climb the trees to get closer to the stars. I cannot imagine anything more peaceful.”
She thanked him again without saying the exact words. Unlike the first time she’d said it, he handled her gentle affections easier now than before. He didn’t flinch away, but sought it out sometimes on his own.
“I’m glad you like it.” He scratched at his nose, leaving a heavy smudge of dirt on it.
Finishing up the cart, she washed her hands in the bin. “This should be enough to keep Hela busy for a while. I got her word I’d get a pie out of this too.” Walking over to him, she giggled as she told him. “You’ve got something on your nose.”
Licking her thumb, she went to brush it off.
“I do?” He blinked, remaining still, pink racing across his cheeks as she wiped it away. “Uh… thanks?”
“You did, and you’re welcome.” Her voice dipped into a husky tone at their proximity. She steadied her thumb, placing her fingertips on his cheek. They went a little farther. She cradled his cheek. Dusky skin, like warm caramel, slightly harder to see through, but her cheeks turned red.
His net shot off. Clear skies of the early morning moved to her lips, then back up. That flicker, that up and down of hesitation before either of them did something rash, woke her up.
She felt a pull at her navel, warmth spread through her body. Knowing he might not even understand his own urges did not help her resist hers. She wanted so badly to break the unspoken rules of friendship they’d placed between them, to capture that little bit of space by leaning forward. But should she?
She moved her hand down his cheek, her forearm settling on his chest. Quinn wasn’t overwhelmingly taller than her but her chin had to angle upward. If she put just a bit of pressure on his neck, if she brought him down. It would be all too simple. Therefore they were entirely too close still. “I should get going.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Of course. You are busy.” He’d been staring when she broke contact and he rubbed at his eye.
“I’ll catch you later?”
“Yeah? Yeah.” He nodded.
QUINN
Max was either an eerily lucky man, or he just got his way eventually because the moment Kira disappeared, he popped in with a tray to harvest some blackberries further down the line. Quinn heard him when he entered. The Vicar and he had spoken off-hand before and he’d asked to speak with him. Seeing his chance, Quinn asked as he walked by. “You said you wanted to talk?”
“Ah, yes.” Max was quick to smile, a people person. Quinn had learned that’s what his personality was called. Max sat down his tray, seemingly happy to put off his other work, joining Quinn by the tomato plants. “Kira has told me quite a bit about the alterations to the ship. It seems you had your work cut out for you when you arrived.”
“I guess?”
“You don’t quite know how to carry a conversation, do you?”
Quinn mulled over his answer. Max didn’t fill it in for him, just picked up one of the adjacent aprons and slid it over his head, tying the back. He did not wear his regular garb, but a slim fitted suit in the same gray. More cottony in appearance. A work outfit, one he’d seen on several of the crew, serving more as a secondary uniform for the ship if they weren’t wearing a flight suit.
“Apparently not.” Quinn decided, pruning a few dead leaves. He wasn’t actually sure how to supposedly respond to any of this, really. Some standard responses had flashed by to Max’s first comment, but they’d all been... pointless? Mostly either downplaying the work he’d done or exaggerating it. It’s what he’d offered to do, and it had gone off with no hitches that weren’t named Kira.
“Considering how you were raised, I did not expect you to be loquacious or graceful in managing one.” Max didn’t pull punches, it seemed. “Making small talk is difficult sometimes even for the best of us, so I’ll forgo it too if that’s alright?” He slipped both hands into his pockets on his lean legs.
“Sure?” Why did people have to be so complicated? It felt like Max danced around the subject without truly hitting the point. Which seemed pretty silly. If he truly wanted to forgo small talk, he’d simply speak.
“I wanted to offer an ear to you. One without judgment. You seem to manage alright on your own, but I am sure that the perspective of another who has had more life experiences might be helpful. Besides, I know the Captain well.”
“I feel...” He digested the offer. “That is a kind gesture. So thank you?” Scratching at his neck, he wasn’t sure what else to say to that. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, the man was offering to give advice about.
“It is, but you don’t have to thank me. The role of a Vicar is to guide. It does not always mean spiritually.”
