A/N: Because everyone knew that no matter how hard they tried, her secret was coming out, and it would come out in a big way. And that wouldn't be the end, if Mr. Westerfeld's last words tell us anything.

Spoilers for Goliath!

Futile Caution

Deryn would never, even if her life depended on it, say she didn't love every moment spent aboard the Leviathan, but by the same turn, she would never say she regretted taking a post up under Dr. Barlow and her colleagues. Not for the boffin's sake, of course, but because there was one great benefit—possibly the only thing that could've dragged her down from the sky.

Helping the mad boffin meant she was able to stay with Alek.

And again the knife twists, because while she was able to stay with Alek, her secret still relatively safe and now away from endangering the entire air force, that also meant she had to put up with one thing she could most certainly do without.

The boffin was unbarable as it was.

Having Alek's precious wildcount along was too much.

It would be different if the bum-rag minded his own business, but of course that simply was not possible. The man was still obsessed with finding Alek a way to saving the throne of his 'noble ancestors.' Alek had explained to him—haltingly and through gritted teeth—that he had thrown away the pope's letter and with it any chance at the throne.

Simple enough, right? End of conversation?

He is not going to be your princely dog!

But no.

Volger had spent too long, too much of his life, to simply give up the dream. He still thought there just might, maybe, possibly be a way. Even with the Austrian throne crumbling every day as the war wound down, he still couldn't let it go.

Deryn reckoned that he wouldn't even get over it after Austria had totally fallen apart. Alek was resigned to this, but Volger was not.

His life, over, with the dissolves throne and a piece of paper thrown overboard. Unacceptable. Apparently.

Deryn had brought up her annoyance with Alek after a bit of the count's moping. He shrugged it off and told her to just wait it out, as he intended to do. He, for one, was simply glad he wasn't impaled once he told Volger that he had tossed the pope's letter over the side of a Darwinist monstrosity.

Grudgingly, Deryn had to admit it was a considerably lucky thing he hadn't been thrown overboard with the letter when his count found out.

So she let it go, ignored the man's moping, and prayed he would disembark to start his own life much like Alek's mekanics had done.

But as it seemed everyone was going their separate ways and settling in for the last brutal months of the war, the count stuck around. To her never-ending frustration, he stuck around. Alek had plead for her understanding—the man had nothing, nowhere to go, knowing nothing but protecting and following him.

So she let it go. She let it all slide. The man's moping, his initial cold-shoulder towards Alek—which by no means made him feel good about his decision—the insanity of possibly never being rid of him… Everything.

And he still just could not mind his own barking business.

It had happened only a couple of weeks after they parted ways from the Leviathan and its crew. It might have been a tearful farewell, but they promised to be in touch, and besides, real airmen don't cry. Dr. Barlow informed her that she, Alek, and Volger had a couple of weeks to get settled in London—mostly a chance to get familiar with their settings, as they would be conducting a good deal of business on these streets.

They had dutifully studied maps and whatnot, settled themselves in the apartment complex assigned to them, but they did it all much sooner than the lady boffin had intended. Or maybe she had known they'd be settled quickly and wanted to give them some rest to prepare for the next leg of their extended journey.

Whatever the reason, Volger had left the apartment, claiming he wouldn't be back 'till late, Alek had been getting her riled up, and she was finally, finally in a place where she didn't have to keep looking over her shoulder for approaching crewmen. The trip back to London had been torturous, in that sense.

Imagine, one of the crewmen seeing Prince Aleksander and Middy Sharp kissing.

But not here. The benefit of leaving her beloved airship was finally making itself known, first in the way Alek was casually talking to her and then the way he was leaning closer, and then, before either of them realized it, they were in the room designated to Alek.

He sat down on the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist, as she draped her arms over his shoulders, twisting her fingers in his hair as the kissing grew more involved. One of his hands broke away to trail from the top of her spine, hesitantly slipping under her shirt, which sent a thrill up her spine as his fingers made contact with her naked skin.

His shirt was gone in a matter of moments, and she quickly found herself only in her bindings, with Alek playing around with the knot that held them in place.

Then suddenly the door flung open, causing Deryn to nearly bite down on Alek's tongue.

She ducked her head against his chest, resting her forehead there, not wanting to see who had just walked in—or let whoever had just walked in see her.

"Volger!" Alek exclaimed, unable to hide his surprise and embarrassment. "I thought you said you weren't coming back until late."

"Seems like a good thing I've changed my mind," the man growled, and Deryn could feel him glaring holes in her back. "Why don't you come with me, Alek? I was just thinking how we needed to talk, and it seems there really is no better time than the present."

This isn't happening, This isn't happening, This isn't…

"I don't really think that's—," Alek started, but Volger would hear none of it.

"I think so, now come along," he commanded and he paused a moment. "I'll give you two minutes. You would be wise to be prompt." She heard the door shut with a solid click and hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt.

"I had better listen to him," Alek started haltingly, and she could feel his body heat up in embarrassment. No doubt feeling like a child. "I'll straighten him out," he promised, not needing to see her face to understand her annoyance and shared embarrassment.

He slipped away without another word and she could hear his angry demand for an explanation almost before the door shut. She fell face first into his comforter, afraid to move any more. After a while she figured she'd have to go find her shirt and retreat to her own room, but until she was sure the bum-rag and Alek had left, she wasn't moving an inch.

After a while her body relaxed and she decided to snuggle under the blankets. Alek could have her bed for the night—no way she was moving.

Hopefully, though, he would return to his bed after he had 'straightened' Volger out, and they could enjoy a few peaceful moments.

The bum-rag could give them that much at least.

Heaving a sigh she let herself drift into a dreamless sleep.