Cress had frappe all over her suit.

Hot, scorching frappe all over her brand new suit.

"I'm sooooo sorry," her bumbling co-worker, Julian, said.

"It—it's okay. I'm sure the stains will come out," Cress said with the fakest smile she'd ever given.

"Really, Crescent, I'm so sorry. It—it was an accident. I—I…" Julian stuttered.

"It's alright, Julian. I'm fine, really," Cress said, feeling slightly more sympathetic for the clumsy oaf than angry.

Slightly.

Having Julian there was worse than having a dozen, misbehaved kids running around.

"I could buy you a new suit," he offered. From anyone else, Cress might have considered this. From Julian, there was no point. The poor man could barely feed himself and Cress was pretty sure he already lived off of stale chips and molded apples on the street.

"That's fine. No, thanks," Cress replied calmly.

"No, really. I could—"

"It's fine, Julian. Now, if you'll please excuse me," she said gesturing to the Women's Room sign over his head.

"Oh—sorry. I guess I'll see you later," Julian said as he walked back to his office.

Cress let out a sigh of relief. She hated to be so rude to people but Julian…Julian was a different kind of creature. She straightened herself, then entered the Women's Room.

Cress loved her job. Loved her work-space, desk, most of her co-workers. Cress loved everything about her job—except for the Women's Room. The Women's Room was one tiny square of pinkish-brown slop.

On three out of four of the walls there were worn out, chipped, tickle-me-pink tile pieces slapped across in random patterns. The remaining wall was supposed to be an artistic statement, said her boss, Sybil Mira, but it wasn't. Couldn't be. It had to be the ugliest piece of "art" Cress had ever seen. It had 30 different colors splashed unto one another through terrible, unclean strokes. To make matters impossibly worse-and nastier-unidentifiable substances stuck out in hard ridges over the stripping paint.

The flooring was made from the same tiles that were on the walls but most of these were missing so when Cress walked in she was forced to step on the uneven, mildewed cement.

She hoped that mildew was only because of water.

There was a half shattered mirror by the too high window. From sunrise to noon, the sunlight glared so terribly on the mirror that you could tan from it. Lastly, the sink leaked because the faucet hadn't been replaced in over fifty years.

When Cress first started working at ECT, she thought they were only having a rough spot with money and would soon fix the disgusting "EMPLOYEES ONLY" Women's Room. The truth was that they had a fair amount of spare money, but they weren't going to waste one cent of it on their single, and very easily disposable, female employee.

For the past five years Cress had avoided the Woman's Room as much as humanely possible, but today was different. Today she was leaving for America.

Cress wanted to look her best when she got off her plane in LA so she decided she could bear at least one more trip to the Women's Room before leaving. She supposed it was proper to say good-bye to all parts of her ECT life before it ended, anyway.

Before her ECT life ended…

Cress was doing it, she realized. She was living her dream.

Ever since she realized she wanted to be a tech girl, she knew she was meant to work at Queens SCJB Tech. Queens SCJB had dominated all other tech companies worldwide in mere months. SCJB was legendary at any and all of its bases, but LA Queens SCJB was the motherboard of the company's glory.

Cress had been working towards this opportunity or 19 long years and she wasn't going to let anything or anyone keep her from her success.

Cress boarded her last flight. She was already in North America, but in order to keep things cheap she had to travel to Canada first. Canada, then LA, USA.

Surprisingly, nothing had gone wrong with her cargo the entire trip. By now, Cress began to feel quite confident. More confident, perhaps, than she had ever felt before.

Cress heard a loud crash behind her.

"Excuse me, yeah, sorry. Yes. Seriously? Sorry. Uhm, Sir. SIR! Yes, COULD YOU MOVE YOUR LEG? Yeah, thanks," said a voice from somewhere down the rows. Cress shifted to the seat farthest to the window and turned her face to get a better look at what was happening in the back of the plane.

When Cress turned, she saw a startling handsome, tall man with dark hair and a smile on his face. She watched as he turned to apologize to people even as he stepped on them. There was something funny about the picture. The man, with his face twisted in mock fear and apology, didn't seem to care all that much about the angry remarks and threats that followed him up the aisle. Actually, he thanked a few of the angry passengers.

Cress found the spectacle more amusing than anything, though she knew she would be as angry as they if someone had treated her like that. Just as Cress thought this, she realized the man was making his way to her row. She repositioned herself rightly and had just settled in her window seat when the men plopped himself down into the seat next to her.

"Hey," he said, nodding.

"Hi," she squeaked back, though she wished she would have stayed silent. She sounded more like a chocked rat than a girl. He replied to her with a kind hearted grin that made Cress's heart skip a beat.

If the man hadn't turned to answer yet another furious shout, Cress would have melted in that moment. Before, from down the rows and aisles, she hadn't been able to see his eyes. He was attractive, definitely, but his eyes…

His eyes were so very striking and vibrant and intense that Cress knew she could die just by looking at them. Even after that small, small glimpse, she longed to see them again.

"Sorry about that," the man said, startling Cress back into reality, "where were we?"

"Um…" Cress sputtered, trying to pull herself out of the fantasy.

"Right," he said, "Captain Carswell Thorne," he said, reaching for her hand. He lifted her knuckles to his lips, "at your service."

Cress blushed deeply, nearly squealing. In an attempt to calm her racing heart, she merely said, "Captain?"

"Yep. I finished military training just a couple of months ago."

"Shouldn't you still be training? How did you manage to get that ranking so quickly at such a young age?"

He frowned. "Smart girl, huh? Nothing's going to get past you," he laughed, squeezing her hand gently. It was then Cress realized he still had her hand. She stared at their hands for a small second before reluctantly withdrawing hers.

She was blushing furiously again by time he began again. If he would only stop touching her…"So I'm not technically a captain, but I was a cadet." There wasn't even a moment's silence before he spoke. "You never told me your name, you know," he said, again changing the subject. Apparently, he hadn't really liked being discovered in a lie.

"Oh. Uh, I'm-It's Crescent Moon, but my friends just call me Cress," she answered, looking towards her window.

"Well, Cress, it's nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand again.

"Likewise," she said as she took his hand, slightly glancing at him again. At least that time she had sounded human, she thought. But when she pulled back again, her ring got caught on his sweater. She turned only to find his eyes as they glimpsed up to meet hers, teasing.

He started full-force laughing as he watched her struggle fervently to free her hand. Aces, she couldn't even get the ring off...

"Hold on," the man—Thorne—said. He made a lame attempt to get her ring off, then settled on taking off his sweater.

Somehow, Cress managed to keep her eyes adverted without seeming obvious. Thorne seemed content with being disconnected with her, because he only leaned back in his seat when they were separated. Cress, slightly annoyed, scoffed.

Audibly.

Thorne turned on her and smirked. "Fine," he nearly laughed. "Fine. I'll do it, " he said. He grabbed her hand and began disentangling her ring from the sweater.

"Sorry," Cress mumbled under her breath, feeling incredibly stupid.

He shook his head slightly, eyes focused on her tangled ring. Cress stifled a sigh and turned to stare out the window for a distraction from their once again joined hands. What was wrong with her? When had she become such a jerk?

After a few long, silent moments, Cress registered her hand had shifted slightly. She turned back to look at Thorne, but he wasn't looking at her. He was only studying her emerald ring, which was now free of the sweater. Cress didn't remember taking it off.

"Um…Can I have that back, please?" Cress said, already holding out her hand.

"I don't know, yet," he replied, still not looking at her.

"E-excuse me?"

He gave no response. He only twirled it over and over in his hand, back and forth.

"Hello? Anybody there?" she said waving her hand.

"Hmm?" he answered, obviously not listening.

Cress sighed. "Give me my ring back. Now." She had meant to say it with authority, but, as she had oh so many times before, she only sounded small. Finally, he looked at her.

"Why?" he asked.

Cress' patience slipped. "Because—because its mine. Now hand it over," she demanded, though she sounded small.

"But emerald is my birthstone," he replied almost looking sad.

Cress had to focus on a spot beyond his shoulder to keep from giving in. "So?" she said.

"Sooo…shouldn't it be mine?" he reasoned.

Her eyes flashed his before returning to the aircraft's sole empty seat.

"Give it to me," she said again.

"Yes ma'am," he said loudly, saluting her. Instead of just giving it to her, he slipped it unto her finger.

"Thank you," Cress said.

"Your welcome, darling."

"How'd you do that?" Cress asked softly, before her blush took over her.

"Do what?" Thorne drawled in an almost whisper, leaning in closer. He was smirking like a devil.

Uncomfortable, she said, "You know." She waved her ringed hand wildly despite the small amount of space, "how'd you get the ring off without me noticing? I'm not usually one to get distracted enough for a stunt like that, so…" she raised an expectant eyebrow and, realizing she had lowered her voice as well, scooted clumsily closer. "So…how did you do it?"

He hesitated a minute. He just stared into her eyes with his own gleaming in amusement. "It's a secret," he said, smirking some more.

"Well...what is it?"

He leaned in closer and gestured for her to do the same. Not thinking, she did. Cress turned her face so that her ear was facing him instead of her mouth.

"You see—the thing is…" Thorne whispered. Cress nodded, a silent invitation. "The thing is," he shifted closer, "I'm a criminal mastermind."

Cress' immediate reaction was to laugh, but when she turned and saw his serious expression, she remembered where she'd seen him before.

This man, this "Captain", was America's—no-the world's most wanted criminal.

Cress was suddenly nervous. Although she had paused too long, she continued to laugh to feign ignorance. She had hours before they'd make it to LA. She would find some way to call the authorities.

"Hmm," he said, glancing at her sideways.

"What?" she asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice. Had she really blown it that soon?

"Nothing, just wanted to make sure," he said, turning away. Cress nearly sagged in relief, though she noted he was suddenly quiet.

A curvy aircraft attendant came to greet them with a table of goods. "Hungry, you two?" the blond asked with a slight French accent.

"Only for love and affection," Thorne said as Cress rolled her eyes.

The attendant eyed Thorne disapprovingly but he only stared back. After what felt like an eternity she said "Name's Emilie, if you need anything." Thorne's eyes trailed after her retreating figure with raised brows.

"What a woman," he muttered, though Cress heard him clearly.

Cress hiccupped suddenly and loudly. Already mortified enough from the glares of the passengers in front of her, Thorne's returned attention on her was almost too much to bear.

"You okay?" he asked.

Cress turned her focus back outside the window but nodded.

After a few minutes Thorne said, "You're way too open, you know."

It took her a second to realize he was talking to her, "What?"

"I said, you're way too open. You probably get stole from all the time. You won't last a minute in LA," he said, taking her arms.

She tensed as he strategically placed her arms to her sides. "There," he said, pulling away.

"I—I'm sorry, what just happened," Cress said confused.

His immediate reaction was to laugh as loudly and suddenly as possible.

Wide eyed and blushing, Cress glanced at the other passengers. No one seemed to notice them.

"What?" Cress said, feeling defensive.

He took in a deep breath in an attempt to stop laughing. "I—," he laughed again, "I'm sorry, that was—that was just kinda cute. You looked cute. Like a baby," he said before laughing again. He threw his head back and slapped his knee. Now they had everyone's attention.

Cress was thoroughly offended and apparently made a face that said as much because Thorne doubled over laughing again. "Your embarrassing yourself," she muttered quietly. This only resulted in more laughter.

When he finally stopped he gave her another thoughtful look, "I was teaching you how to defend yourself," he said, and after a pause, he nudged her arm, "just so you know."

After yet another long silence, Cress turned to him. He was still smiling slightly and was staring at her intently. "What?" she asked him for the nineteenth time.

"Nothing," he said shrugging, though he didn't take his eyes off of her.

Cress huffed, "Fine," she said turning back to the window.

She found herself lost in yet another daydream of her life in LA. She thought of how happy she would be now. How bold she was. Cress could see her life changing for the better right before her eyes. For a second time, she thought of her accomplishment. Not many lived their dream and she was. Little, shy Cress was living her dream.

She smiled to herself and traced a hand down her window in awe of the sights. Remembering where she was, Cress glanced back at Thorne. He was still looking at her and he was still smiling.