Disclaimer: Volition owns it all, I'm not getting paid, please don't sue me.

1. The Boss

"Do you think we'll be fighting the Zin the rest of our lives?"

Matt is the only lover from whom Fray has ever tolerated pillow talk. Or snuggling. Or spooning. Or drooling in her hair. He makes all of it work, though.

Mostly because nine times out of ten, before any of that can happen, he makes her legs numb and her brain mush.

This morning's a little different. They've woken up slowly, taking their time to fully come to. Fray thinks she could get used to it.

She shrugs. "Not if I have anything to say about it, no."

He grins against her shoulder; it's something that Fray feels rather than sees. The image is crystal clear, though; she's mapped and memorized every pore on Matt's face. She's going to keep that dorky smile of his until every synapse in her brain stops firing.

"What do you want to do?" he asks after few moments of lipping the shell of her ear. "When this is all over, I mean."

Fray snorts. "Assuming we live?"

"Sure."

Honestly, Fray hasn't let herself think about things like that. Missing the Earth, her friends, her home, all of that is unavoidable. The future, though? Anything past a solid twenty-four hour period? That is just a little too far for this mess she and her crew have fallen into.

"Don't know." She rolls onto her back and Matt adjusts accordingly. He props his head on his hand while Fray pillows one arm behind her head. Their legs stay tangled, just because. "Kinda been focused on finding the best route to tear Zinyak's head off his shoulders. What do you wanna do?"

He looks thoughtful for a second or two, bright blue eyes flicking upward. "Well, Asha's idea about finding a beach planet isn't without appeal."

"No it isn't," she agrees. God, what she wouldn't give for real sand in under feet and a real sky above her.

"Mostly, though, I just want to fuck you in a bed that isn't virtual or on this bloody ship."

Fray laughs while the thing in her chest stutters. He wants a future with her, that's the real core of those words. She's known this wasn't just them sleeping together for a while now and she accepts that. An "after", though, to this strange, oddball story of theirs? Is that even possible?

"Oh, yeah?" She distracts herself from the all of the pounding in her ears by pushing Matt onto his back and crawling on top. Hovering close on hands and knees, Fray brushes her lips to his when she speaks. "Does that mean you're bored and you don't want to—?"

Matt responds predictably. Somewhat. Fray expects how his hands slide possessively up her sides and the closing distance between their mouths. Her…boyfriend (never going to be easy to jump on that label wagon) managing to distract her enough that he can flip her onto her back is a surprise. A pleasant surprise, in fact.

Matt takes a couple of seconds to grin down at her, too big for the pants he isn't wearing. "Let's not get carried away, shall we?"

"Never."

He kisses her once more before his lips start a trail down her body.

The idea of life beyond this fight with Zinyak, outside the confines of their purloined baby battle-cruiser, really isn't something Fray wants start escaping into. The problems of the present are too important to risk on any sort of daydreaming. She's not opposed to the plan that Matt's proffered however, and not just because he's doing the swirly thing with his tongue.

That's the scary, makes-her-chest-vibrate part.

2. Matt

The day starts out really well. Matt gets woken up via blowjob and spends most of the morning in bed with Fray, searching for new ways to make her whimper. Then she listens to his ideas for a new Nyteblade simulation, even inquiring to how much he has coded. Fray has yet to say "I love you" back to him, but Matt's seriously considered it to be implied by the continuing lack of criticism for his vampire obsession.

And then Kinzie ruins everything.

That's not fair; it isn't Kinzie's fault that the coding program that they designed to lock on Johnny Gat's mental signature goes off. It just happens and he knows that she was hoping it never made a sound just like he was.

Still, it's hard not to resent her a little bit in the end.

They look at each other after the code is traced. There's no mistake. It took almost two months and an endless litany of firewalls and backtracking, but the signature is a 99.9% match.

"We have to tell her," Kinzie says after a few minutes where they stare at the code and then one another.

"Do we?" It's not that he doesn't want Fray to get her friend back, he does. Matt would do just about anything for that woman, even if he won't come right out and say as much. Love is making him stupid.

Over most things, anyway. This thing, this one rather big, life-changing thing, he's being very sensible about.

Kinzie bites her lip, uncertainty lining her face for the first time since…God, since he's known her. It's an agreement on a moral level but she isn't convinced, the pinched line of her shoulders alone tells him that. He presses on; persuading her has to happen.

"Kinzie, we can't," he says. "We just—we can't. It's…it's asking too much. The Zin need to be our focus. Surviving needs to be our focus. Going after Gat could wipe us out and you know it."

It could wipe Fray out. And that is one thing Matt will not allow. Not while he is breathing.

"So your suggesting that we, what, hide it?" The words don't come with any anger or disdain, but the blunt disbelief in them cuts. "Fray may not be able to program a DVR schedule but she'd figure this out. Eventually, she would. And she definitely won't forgive us."

"I don't bloody well care if she forgives me, I care if she lives!" The vehemence in Matt's voice startles the both of them. Kinzie blinks, as if his face just changed, as if there was suddenly a new person standing in front of her. It turns his stomach a little, even more so when the right corner of her mouth quirks upward and she shakes her head.

"Shit." She takes off her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Shit. Fuck."

Matt has no idea where this is going. Instinct says nowhere good but he denies the impulse to duck and cover. He's fairly certain she isn't going to choke him out.

Her gray-blue eyes aren't exactly soft when they come back to Matt's face, but they're also lacking in the usual razor-edged gleam that usually comes his way.

"I thought it was just fucking with you two," she says, an almost-amused smile in place. "I really did."

Matt shrugs, trying to tamp down the heat that he feels inching up his throat. "So did I. For a bit, at least."

Kenzie laughs; it's not a particularly mirthful sound. "How in the hell do sociopaths even fall in love?"

"Not easily, in my experience."

Another laugh and she's back to being serious. "We've got to tell her, Matt. Fray's too loyal; she'd want to go no matter who it was in her crew that Zinyak was keeping. Shaundi, Pierce, me, you." She looks very pointedly at him over the tops of her glasses on the last word. "The Earth was atomized because I made the call to pull Fray out of her prison. That was my gamble and I lost. Fray deserves the same choice."

"That's not a good argument," he says.

Kinzie smiles again. "Yeah. I know."

3. The Boss

On the day they go to free Johnny, Fray feels tension in the air the moment that she wakes. Half of it's because sleep the previous night was plagued with bad dreams about all of the shit Evil-her had been spewing in Asha's prison. The other half is because Matt is already out of bed when her eyes open and after nightmares that involve his dead body, that can't bode well for the rest of the day.

She hates being prophetic.

"It feels weird not being in a shitty sports bar," she says to no one in particular as she climbs into her pod. Fray's whole body feels like it might vibrate to pieces. Johnny is just a circuit away. She's getting him back, she's bringing him home.

Zinyak is so utterly fucked.

For whatever reason, everyone is in the room, and aside from Fray, Matt, and Kinzie, playing cards. It's as if they're back in Stillwater, having a lazy day instead of teetering on the edge of disaster. Fray appreciates the little attempts at normalcy.

"You could always name the ship the Broken Shillelagh," Pierce suggests.

Kinzie's shoulders tighten. "Not funny." She's scared and that, in turn, scares Fray.

She bottles that up, though. "Kinzie, relax."

"Doing my best."

"Look," Fray scrabbles to reassure the redhead, "if you're worried about me going brain dead, I figure it's part of the de—"

"You have to say something," Matt cuts in. Fray's eyes flick to him but he isn't looking at her. He seems to be trying not to look at her, turning his body toward Kinzie. She doesn't miss the rigidness of his stance, though, or his scowl.

She frowns and resists the urge to grab his arm. Instead, she asks, "What aren't you telling me?"

Scowling, but not looking away from the computer, Kinzie says, "Thanks, Matt."

"Kinzie…"

Matt finally looks at Fray. "It's not you she's worried about, it's everyone else." The light in his blue eyes and the way his tongue presses his upper lip say that he, on the other hand, is worried about her. Very worried. The thing in her chest wriggles and Fray considers slapping herself.

All eyes are suddenly dancing between Matt and she. "This is going to get real exciting." Beneath the dryness, Asha sounds worried too.

"It doesn't matter," Kinzie says.

Pierce does not help. "I have a feeling we're about to disagree."

"Saving Gat is a terrible idea."

Matt says those words and something inside of Fray pops. Her arm moves back without a thought behind it but her weight follows, making a line straight to Matt's jaw. He goes down and she straddles him, her fist repeating the action. Fray doesn't feel herself doing it, her body is one big, pulsing nerve and the only thing she can comprehend is fear. Johnny needs her and Matt has presented himself as an obstacle.

She will get to Johnny. She will save her best friend. She will not fuck up a second time. She will destroy whatever or whoever tries to stop her.

Fray comes back to herself as King takes hold of her. He jerks her backward, off of and away from Matt. She doesn't resist. There's blood in Matt's mouth, his jaw is already purpling, and it's her hands that have done it.

She sees the "evil" version of herself from Asha's nightmare, hears her giggling. A bullet or a fist. Really, which one is kinder?

Static fills Fray. She's aware of the turmoil around her; that Pierce, Asha, and Shaundi are having their own scuffle. Fray doesn't care though; she's too preoccupied with Matt lying on the floor in front of her.

He's breathing. Thank fuck, he's breathing and sitting up.

Kinzie's voice finally breaks through.

"Stop it! He's right, okay? It's a terrible idea." Gray-blue eyes bore into Fray as Kinzie steps forward. "In order to save Johnny, we have to tap our ship directly into his mind, and that means Zinyak's going to know exactly where we are. You're asking Matt and I to paint a target on Humanity's last hope so you can go and rescue someone we've never even met! And what's even stupider is that we're going along with it!"

She waves at Matt, as if Fray doesn't realize what she's done. Vaguely, Fray is aware of how strange it is to see Kinzie, of all people, defending him. She's also hyper aware of what that says about what she just did.

"That guy you just beat the shit out of is risking everything to save your friend. And you wanna know why? Because we can't save ours anymore." For just a second Kinzie's face falls and her eyes clench. It's fleeting but her grief is still tangible, especially when she speaks again. "Oleg is dead. Viola is dead. Earth is dead. So how about you stop being a fucking asshole and say 'thank you, for giving me the hope you'll never have'?"

Fray is still numb. She has no idea what her face is doing, or any conscious recollection of commanding her muscles, but she's in motion. A hand covered in skin that doesn't feel like she's even underneath it extends to Matt. "I'm sorry."

They're sad words. Not because of regret, but because she can't think of anything more substantial.

He takes her hand and she hoists him up.

A smile twitches on his mouth and Fray wants to scream. He's not allowed to smile at her, not after what she just did. He needs to put a knife in her or at the very least hit her back. "Yeah well, you could have killed me back in Steelport but you let me go. I can forgive a few punches."

No, he shouldn't. Forgiveness isn't allowed, not for this. Not for anything like this.

The part of Fray's brain that's responsible for the survival of herself and the people around her takes over, pushing all of the feelings she has to the back and locking them away for the moment. Autopilot sense takes over, she pats Matt's shoulder, and he smiles at her again while her stomach rolls.

This is about Johnny. Save him first, everything else can wait.

There's no avoiding her epiphany, though. Evil-her was right; Fray sees it clearly just before the Simulation Pod sucks her in, written all over Matt's bruised jaw. Everything that she loves, she destroys.

4. Matt

His jaw is going to be fine, of that, Matt has no doubt. He understands what made Fray snap; say what you will about the woman but perfidious she is not. That dogged loyalty is one of the many things—and yes, for all that they disagree on there is also much of the opposite—he admires about her. Matt really can—and does—forgive the blows.

Ironically, this one grudge Matt can let go of is also the one Fray can't.

He's in the cargo bay after the "Welcome Back" celebrations for Gat when Fray finds him. Everyone else had passed out in the common area except for himself and Kinzie; they still have work to do, re-cloaking the ship. In Fray's arms, there is a plastic crate containing all of his personal effects that he's been keeping in her room.

Matt's whole body goes numb as he watches her sit the crate down on the sofa. She stands, meeting his stare with her own. For once, she doesn't try to hide anything; the sadness lining her pretty, angular face is heavy.

"I gave the room to Gat," she says. Her hands move, as if to slide into pockets. Instead, they end up awkwardly smoothing over her hips. "I'm bunking with Shaundi now." She gnaws her lower lip; Matt's always thought she looks like a child when she does that. It's his second favorite tic of hers. "Thanks, I—I liked being with you. I really, really did."

"Then don't put it in the past tense." It's as close to begging as Matt will go. Despite some tendencies he has, he is not a baby, and he's not so naïve as to think it would help.

Another thing he adores about Fray; when she makes up her mind nothing short of an act of god can sway her.

She shakes her head. "Asha's nightmare was right; I'm a wrecker. Built a great fucking career on it. Also lost too many people that I cared about because of it." Her nose and cheeks are flushed and her eyes glint at the edges. Nothing about her trembles, however, there isn't even a hint of lip-wobbling. "I lucked out and got Johnny back. I won't be that lucky twice."

"So what? You're cutting me loose as a grand gesture of your feelings?" Honestly, Matt doesn't mean to sound so bitter. There's a lead ball in his chest, though, trying to push its way out through his throat and it hurts.

That makes her flinch but sharp chin juts out, stubborn as ever. "I almost killed you."

"And I already told you that I forgive you, dammit!"

"See, that isn't the problem, Matt. The problem is that I don't forgive me." Her eyes linger on him a few seconds more and then she's turning away.

Pride binds his already tight throat. Fray leaves him defeated, just like she did six years ago, only this is so much worse. This is the real world; he's going to bleed out from this wound.