Abby doesn't register the sound at first.

It's masked by the beeping of medical equipment, the subtle hum of the ventilation system, the muted chirping of birds filtering in from outside. But then the noise starts to trickle into her consciousness, and she cocks her head to one side, her brow furrowed in the middle.

Music.

There's lush, orchestrated music circulating throughout her medical bay. It's not the sound of the acoustic instruments the Grounders play around the campfire. It's professionally recorded, like the music they had when their home was in orbit and not a pile of twisted metal and barely-operational parts.

They've been on the ground for less than a year, but there's so much about Ark-life that she's already grown accustomed to being absent. Abby used to listen to the archived music in her quarters, during surgical procedures, or just while going about her every day duties. But the Ark's violent descent to the ground damaged countless files, the music archive included.

The fact that she's hearing such melodies again seems beyond impossible.

There's a rustling at the bay's entrance, and Raven emerges from behind the plastic flaps that now serve as the doorway. She looks up and swivels her head around the room, one corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk.

"Ah, good, it's working," she states. "I was fixing a data module and found some restorable files. Any music indexed A through F was too corrupted to save, but if we want songs that fall between G and Z, we're in luck."

Abby's mouth drops open as she begins to understand what Raven is explaining.

"I'll work on hooking up other areas of camp later," Raven continues, "but I thought I would start here first. I rewired the med bay speakers, so they're fully functional again." She smiles broadly, her eyes crinkling at the edges. "We've got music, Abby."

Abby should have known that Raven had something to do with the mysterious sounds now emanating from her medical bay – if there's one person that can make the impossible happen, it's Raven Reyes.

Raven's elation spreads to Abby, and a matching grin forms on her face. The music coming from the speakers swells to a crescendo, and Abby recognizes these particular notes.

Abby points a finger towards the air above them. "This is my favorite Chopin piece."

"Yeahhh," Raven draws the word out. A hint of red tinges her cheeks, and she rubs a hand against the back of her neck. "I, uh, found a saved playlist under the profile Griffin, A. Figured there weren't too many other people around with that name," she jokes, smiling and shrugging her shoulders. "Thought you might like having access to it again."

The full scope of what Raven has done dawns on Abby. Raven has retrieved culturally significant data that they had all thought was lost forever. She's revived a means of entertainment and joy for a group of people who could use any possible comfort after all the hardships they've endured. And she's made these gifts available to Abby before any others.

"Raven," Abby says, and the name comes out breathier than she'd intended, "this is just…" She swallows against the lump in her throat. "Thank you."

Raven nods at her. "No problem. Enjoy the tunes, Doc."

The music shifts from centuries-old classical to a slow love ballad as Raven turns to go, but Abby isn't ready for her to leave yet.

"Do you have time for a break?" she calls out.

"Oh! Well yeah, sure." Raven strides towards Abby and stops in front of an exam table, leaning back against it and crossing her arms. "What'd you have in mind?"

Abby holds out a hand and beckons Raven forward. Raven pushes off of the table and steps closer.

Abby raises both arms, her right higher than her left, palms out.

Raven's eyes go wide, recognizing the gesture. "Oh!" she shakes her head and pedals backwards, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "I'm really not much of a dance–"

"Please?" Abby implores. "Indulge me? I haven't danced with anyone in far too long. And your accomplishment deserves some celebration. We have music, Raven," Abby echoes Raven's earlier words.

Raven's mouth opens to protest once more, but then she sighs loudly. "Ok. But don't get mad when I step on your toes."

Abby chuckles, and Raven cautiously slips into her arms.

There's still a few inches of space between their bodies, but as they start to move with the music, the distance erodes. Their hands press more firmly, drawing hips and thighs into alignment, and the increased contact causes a pleasant warmth to build in Abby's body. She turns her head slightly, grazing Raven's cheek with her own, her lips close to Raven's ear.

"Mmm," Abby hums, the sound reverberating against Raven's skin. "This is nice."

"Yeah?" Raven queries, as she curls her fingers harder into Abby's lower back.

"Yeah," Abby agrees. "Music. Dancing. No killer fog, no looming battles."

Raven laughs, blowing a gust of breath into Abby's hair. "Just a grease monkey who could barely dance before the spinal injury."

Abby rolls her eyes. "Oh, stop. You haven't stepped on my toes once. You're doing fine." She pulls back and fixes Raven with a pointed look. "And yeah, the grease monkey's pretty great, too."

Raven's throat ripples as she audibly gulps. Her eyes dart down to Abby's lips, then back up again. Abby's eyes duplicate the action, and then she parts her lips, running the tip of her tongue between them. Raven's eyes widen, and she inhales sharply through her nose. Closing the remaining distance between them is the easiest decision Abby's had to make in a long time.

Their lips meet, just a tentative caress at first, but then they both sink towards each other, into the pressure and heat. It's soft, and sweet, and the light brush of a tongue against Abby's lower lip hints at it being something more.

Abby slowly draws back from the kiss. Raven's face is flushed and her eyes are closed. She languidly blinks them open and their gazes connect. They're both breathing rapidly, warm breaths puffing against each other's lips.

Abby's mouth curls into a blissful smile, and she lowers her head, tucking her cheek against Raven's collarbone. She can feel Raven's heartbeat making her entire ribcage jump.

Abby inhales deeply, acquainting herself with Raven's unique scent. She smells like oil, metal, and the citrus-like herbs the Sky People now use to wash their clothes. Abby shuts her eyes and tightens her arms around Raven as they resume swaying to the music.

"Yeah," she affirms. "This is nice."