a/n: Vandham has a bad day. Who will get him a glass of water? I think I see an OC frantically waving her hand to volunteer.

Slight swears, aliens, probably set just after Ch. 8 of game.

All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, except Lila and her crew.

It had been a crap day, no question. It shouldn't have been. There was nothing different about it from the day before and the day before that. Hard work, too many unanswerable problems, idiots with bright ideas, that he could handle. Sometimes with a smile, sometimes with a slap. After reviewing approximately three hundred team schedules, plotting a possible work-around to the notoriously temperamental furnace at the recycling area, and giving H.B. yet another enthusiastic set down, Commander Vandham felt pretty even about his life. Tired, sure, but he could manage a few more hours of this day, if blearily. Then he'd gotten a call from the Maintenance Center.

They'd assured him, a dozen times, that Lin would be okay. That the impact had only bent her ribs, not actually snapped them. He resisted the need to ask them one more time, and instead stared into the porthole of her repair capsule. She looked pale and tiny in the dim liquid. It took all he could not to drop kick the weeping Nopon wrapped around his ankle. Another alternative was to lift the rotund alien off the ground and give him a death cuddle. Instead, he passed Tatsu, still howling, glasses lost somewhere during the mission, over to Elma, herself not looking completely well.

He'd walked out of the Mim Center, hoping for some fresh air, only to get a lungful of smoky fog. This kind of weather was rare in NLA proper, but it stank just as much as any smog from Earth. It made him more homesick than he could say.

"Stop." A female voice, very clear, very sharp, no arguing.

He winced, and started to argue. "Brown, I was behind when I woke up and …"

"You can take two hours off."

"Don't you have some customers to harass?"

"I have staff that can cover that. As do you. Go home. 120 minutes."

"Lila, look…"

"If you don't, I'm telling Eleonora." She stood there, almost as short as Lin, and almost as fearless. Hands on hips, frown on her face and eyes full of sparks, dimmed by the fog. "Please." He heard it then, the worry in her voice.

They went up to his rooms, in the main barracks tower. He didn't know why he insisted she tag along. He usually viewed the luxury of something more than as a necessary extra office, not someplace to socialize. It was a blessing to be utterly alone. Sometimes he could pretend that there was nothing waiting for him outside the doors, that he was just as independent and unimportant as he'd been before he'd gotten involved with the ECP. How long had that been? Honestly, he'd probably never been that way.

He sagged on the couch. Lila drifted around the tiny living room, poking at the vid setup, peering at the pictures on the wall. He didn't want to look at them. Framed artwork (all skells) by none other than Miss Lin Lee Koo. He was sappy, he had to admit it. Lila nodded, either in acknowledgement or approval, then turned to look down at him.

"I'm not risking making coffee, but I think I can pour you a glass of water. Or a beer."

He couldn't muster a smile about how bad her station's coffee always turned out. "I don't need anything."

"I need to bring you something, so choose which."

"Water's fine. A single beer would probably knock me out."

She snorted, then marched quickly into his kitchenette. He closed his eyes, listening to her open and close cabinets in a hunt for a glass. His heard his refrigerator smack open, then close again, followed by the running of the tap. He didn't open his eyes, even when he knew she was directly in front of him. He didn't open his eyes when he felt the couch dip as she sat down. The clink of the glass on his coffee table was followed by silence.

He shook his head, but didn't try to speak. No point starting a sentence that would end with him biting off the end. The silence was growing longer, but as two, then three, minutes ticked away, it still hadn't become awkward.

She shifted, and he felt her head resting against his arm. She stretched one arm across his chest and gave him a fierce half hug. Before she could relax away from him, he grabbed for her hand. He didn't need to open his eyes to find it, and press it to his heart (or where a heart should have been, high tech Tin Man that he now was). After one long breath, he released it. She moved away, but left her hand on his arm.

"Whatever it takes, sir, we'll get it done for you. Name it, and me and my team will do it." Her voice was completely serious.

Tired as he was, beaten as he was, he couldn't stop a chuckle. He turned his head and opened his eyes a fraction. "Are we talking the same team? The one at your filling station?"

Her expression was deadpan. "We are trained professionals, employed by no less than the premier industrialist group. Launch us at any problem and see what happens."

"A wanna-be Ma-non pop star, a 2 meter pacifist, and a guy with the muscle tone of wet rope."

"Precisely. Anything you need done, we'll get it done. Because we'll have all of NLA helping us." She squeezed his arm, and stood up quickly. "You get…" She glanced at the clock. ".. 105 more minutes of rest, and let us carry the load for a bit. I think you can trust us for just about that long. I'll have Eleonora give you a wake-up call."

"Oh joy."

She smiled finally, concern still in her eyes. "You need to leave me some evil in my life, sir. I'm not great at taking care of people. I need to balance it out."

a/n: I have been freed from the evil spell that is XC2 and can now write more XCX stuff. But do I return to Duna and Wolf? NooooooOOOOOoooooo. Part of my ongoing attempt to make these two dorks be good friends even before they get all gooey and romantic.