A/N: I appreciate any feedback anyone deigns to give. This is an Irisa/Nolan ship story, so if that's not anyone's thing, I totally understand, but I've really enjoyed writing it, and there are several more chapters in the works. Please feel free to correct any canonical show lore that I've gotten wrong It's been a while since I've been able to watch it, and things are starting to slip away. (Also, I'm taking some liberties with Irathient biology and development, so there's that too). I'd love to hear what anyone thinks.

When Irisa was very small, just tall enough for the top of her head to reach Nolan's elbow, she would follow him around like pet. Skittish and looking for an escape route should things go sour, they had a kind of shaky truce. Back then he called her "little one," and it made sense to her, in a very literal way. He towered over her like a giant, his measured strides so wide she had to run all the time to keep up with him. Being called little was perfectly logical, although he'd laughed when she's called him "large one" in response.

The memories all swirled together as she stared into her glass, watching bubbles collect along the beveled curve. It had been a very long time since he'd called her little one, fully grown as she was. He still outmatched her in size, his shoulders twice as broad as her own, hands proportionate to his limbs. The fermented drink in front of her couldn't hold her attention for long, and she found herself once again assessing him through hooded eyes. Someone unfamiliar with Joshua Nolan would say he was relaxed, legs spread wide in the rough-hewn chair, one hand loosely encircling a mug. Some might even miss seeing the other large hand resting gently on the handle of the pistol at his hip. She sighed. She missed the nickname.

It was confusing for her when he started calling her daughter. Neither of them had much experience with that type of relationship. Her own parents were nothing anyone should aspire to, and Irisa was resigned to being an orphan the rest of her life. She'd only looked at Nolan with fear and grudging awe in the beginning. And Nolan himself had only seemed to notice her when she trembled in fear. He didn't like it when she shrank into herself, head dropping down in terror when people stared at her, and frequently he drew her close to him as they strolled through dirty streets. Walking side by side, the hand laid protectively on her shoulder was like armor. It finally made her realize he wasn't out to hurt her like so many people before.

The atmosphere in the tavern around them was suddenly quiet, music floating on the air fading away as the barkeep restarted the worn out record. The song was familiar, and it brought back warmer memories from that uneasy time. Nolan used to sing softly to her in the dark when she couldn't sleep, one hand stroking her hair absentmindedly until she drifted off. Those simple songs from old earth were still imprinted in her memory, the lilting twang of Nolan's voice a soothing balm that slowed her stuttering pulse when nightmares accosted her.

But even now, sitting with him so genially in this place, she still couldn't reconcile Nolan and fatherhood. He wasn't a parent to her, didn't know how to be really. The label had developed over years out of necessity. Arched eyebrows and malicious looks cast in their direction when they paid for rooms in boarding houses along the road had made Nolan uncomfortable on more than one occasion. People made assumptions about them, rampant prejudices still permeating the settlements they stopped at along the road. Nolan soon discovered people rarely questioned his gruffly made assertion of fatherhood, especially when he had a gun on each hip.

Her initial skittishness soon faded into a distant memory, and Nolan responded to the way she opened up to him, asking her opinions, including her in bawdy jokes told in raucous saloons. There was something affectionate about the way his eyes crinkled when he was making fun of her, and her stomach would go to fluttering in a way she was sure wasn't daughterly. The twitch at the corner of his mouth, a precursor to the devastating smile he threw in her direction, resulted in a corresponding twitch of her own. She was helpless against it.

And he trusted her. In bar fights, or frantic skirmishes along the road, she was right there with him. As small as she was, people usually underestimated her agility, the element of surprise as effective a weapon as any other. They were a kind of a team by the time she was fully grown. Their reputation preceded them these days, and most people gave them a wide berth when they rolled into town.

At the moment, they were waiting for a contact, some down on his luck trader looking to sell information about an arkfall that no one else seemed to know about it. Irisa was dubious about the information, but Nolan didn't seem to mind the fact that their new business associate was a no show. He had other things to occupy him while they waited, the most prominent of which being several scantily clad ladies who worked at the tavern. She wasn't afforded such pleasant distractions.

She saw the way people looked at her, like she were a ticking bomb about to go off at any second, the shuttered glances they cast at Nolan in particular when they realized they were together. She'd first noticed it when her body began to change, the straight lines and sharp angles of childhood becoming lithe muscles and graceful curves.

There had always been a general feeling of unease in the gaze of strangers, but it was only recently that Irisa had begun to feel like maybe they were right, maybe she didn't belong with Nolan. Her otherness had become more apparent, and something was shifting inside of her, making her dissatisfied with the current status quo. She could survive on her own. Her chances out in the world without him were, with all the things he'd taught her, better than the average person. A practical part of her had been quietly whispering that she set out on her own soon, even if it made her carefully concealed emotions swirl unpleasantly in her stomach. Passing across the invisible threshold into adulthood was a difficult period for anyone, but for an Irathient it came with a specific set of challenges that humans weren't prepared to deal with.

She knew what the men eyeing the two of them assumed and often said just out of earshot. Had Nolan been a different kind of man, they probably would have been right. Even now there were a couple scavengers sitting at the bar, casting them curious glances. It wasn't unusual for human males to take Votan lovers. Nolan's quick denials, his frequent "kiddo's" and paternal shoulder pats were as much defensive as they were protective. She'd seen the tops of his ears flame with anger during more than a few conversations with strangers recently. She could guess the gist of those talks, and she didn't think they were referring to her as his daughter.

Secretly, she didn't want to sit and watch as he flirted with his paid sexual partners and the barmaids with glowing eyes, but a sadistic part of her would rather know the kinds of women he was drawn to than remain in ignorance. Her mind unconsciously drew contrasts between them and herself, heart sinking when she realized just how different they were.

She shifted in her seat, feeling edgier than usual. Her muscles quivered with electricity just under the surface. It had always been difficult for her to listen to these lewd exchanges, but in the past two weeks it had gone from vaguely unpleasant to downright torturous, an odd mixture of irritation and intrigue bubbling up inside of her as she observed the pawing.

It was impossible to tell if Nolan could sense this jealousy in her, this tightly coiled desire and curiosity. He'd taken to looking at her with his head cocked to the side, as though she were a riddle he was trying to solve. He constantly seemed like he was on the verge of an epiphany and it was beginning to unnerve her. Not only that, but she'd caught him staring daggers at any man that looked at her sideways, as if he knew the lewd and lascivious thoughts rattling around in their tiny brains. Her already taciturn nature became more pronounced, the tenuous bond they'd struggled to form over the years pulled taut. Something had to give.

There was something strangely subservient about the relationships between male and female humans, and these simpering paramours set Irisa's teeth on edge. She'd always been grateful this dynamic didn't apply to her and Nolan, but now she wanted nothing more than for Nolan to look at her like he did them, like a cat about to devour a bowl of cream, full of anticipation and self-satisfaction. The thought made her shiver as she sat quietly across from him. He didn't notice, as usual.

It irked her when she was relegated to the status of child, shoved in the corner while the adults went off to play. Tonight, that unease was morphing into tightly wound frustration, and it had her twisting roughly at one of her bracelets until she snapped the leather straps. Damn it, it was one of her favorites too.

The hot atmosphere was beginning to get to her, the warmth magnified by the persistent heat gathering in her belly. It shot down her legs and set her toes to curling in her boots whenever Nolan laughed at some stupid joke the hovering hussy told.

They'd been sitting here in this dank and slightly musty tavern for what seemed like hours, Nolan drinking more than he should, a hot flush creeping up the skin of his neck as he slammed his hand down on the table, ordering another round. As always, she sat there quietly, sipping on hard cider, but her normal focus was shattered, all of her senses coalescing on one person. Again and again she was drawn to the drunkenly bemused expression on Nolan's face as he threw his head back in laughter.

As the hour grew late, empty flagons collecting on the table, she watched the women grow impatient, putting their wares on display as thought they were out in the market. Nolan winked at one of them, his finger crooking at her. That was all it took, and she was there right beside him, a pitcher of beer in one hand, the supple flesh of her breasts spilling over the low cut of her blouse.

The enthusiastic young woman plopped down in Nolan's lap, brazenly pressing herself against him, and Irisa felt a burning zing of jealousy course through her, a proprietary sensation that had her reaching for her concealed dagger.

Nolan turned to Irisa as though it were normal to have a conversation with a half naked woman sitting in his lap. "Looks like we've been stood up."

She squelched the desire to pounce on the woman, to shove the giggling bundle of lace and satin off of Nolan's lap. Instead she took his comment for what it was, her cue to leave. She quietly scooted back from the table and excused herself. "Just as well, I had a bad feeling about him."

Nolan nodded, already distracted once again by the woman wiggling against him, eyes shining with lust. "Always trust your instincts, kiddo."

He wasn't listening for a response, so she didn't give him one, stalking out into the dark night alone.