He was there again. Not moving, not smiling, just standing there outside her cell. Holding a tray of food and a bundle of material, the black uniform making him look like some sort of waiter. The idea was so funny she couldn't help smiling. He regarded her quizzically for a moment before turning to motion the guard to disappear, then punched in the code for the door. Once inside the cell he placed the tray on her lap, tugging off one glove to check her temperature.

"Do I pass?"

He might have smiled, though it was hard to tell with the dim light. "Today, you do. How are you feeling?"

"My arm feels a little better." The bruises had faded slightly, from purple to red, and she was able to move her fingers more. "Ribs still hurt though."

He nodded, replacing the glove. "The doctor said it'd take a few weeks more for those to heal. Though you're not supposed to move about too much."

Murrue raised an eyebrow. "You watch me?"

"I keep an eye on you." he replied matter-of-factly.

"Because I'm a prisoner?"

"Because I don't trust anyone."

That didn't surprise her. Typical Alliance. "Are you afraid of what I'd say to people?"

"More worried of what they'd say or do to you. That's why no-one else visits or knows the code for that door." At her probably surprised expression he did smile, just a little. "I said I'd keep you safe, didn't I?"

She didn't quite know what to say to that. True, she'd been surprised that no-one had come to the brig to stare or taunt - aside from the guard the Colonel was the only person she saw, but hadn't considered that he might be keeping everyone away from her. "How many people know I'm actually here?"

He seemed to consider this. "Three? The doctor who patched you up, the guard here, and me."

"Not the Alliance itself?

"No." For some reason he seemed troubled. "Not yet. I wanted to be sure of some things first."

"Oh?"

He moved to perch on the end of the bed. "I wanted to hear why you left. Why you believe the Alliance was the one to destroy the JOSH-A base."

"You believe me?"

"I don't know. There isn't enough proof either way. But you were there."

She nodded, nibbling at a corner of some toast. "My ship and a few others. We were told to 'maintain the defence and adapt to the circumstances'. The circumstances being an entire ZAFT fleet. One of my crewmembers who'd been transferred was on his way back to the ship, and he found that the base was completely empty inside, the computers counting down the minutes until something called 'Cyclops' fired."

He tipped his head to one side. "Cyclops?"

"A weapon that would destroy the base and everything for ten miles around it. I guess it was cutting their losses."

"You managed to escape?"

She smiled. "My crewmember had seen it happen before. He knew what would happen if we didn't get away. We'd fought so hard to get to where we thought we'd be safe, only to find that we weren't important anymore." Aware she must sound bitter she shook her head. "Anyway, we were able to get away in time. After that, Orb was the only place we could go. They'd been good to us before."

"Why did they order you to stay? Where did they go?"

"Panama, I think. The 'why' is because we were somewhat of a liability, not least because of Kira-kun."

He tapped his chin. "The record of the hearing mentioned a kid called Kira.."

Murrue closed her eyes. "A sixteen-year-old boy we took on board at Heliopolis - the colony where my ship was made. He ended up piloting a mobile suit to save us."

"What happened to him?"

She smiled again, fondly. "He's all right. Still on the ship and safely in Orb by now, I hope. He did so much to help us, but he was blamed for everything bad that happened to us just because he was a Coordinator."

"A Coordinator? You had one of them on your ship?"

"That was their reaction too. But he wasn't a soldier until we made him one - he was just a boy."

The Colonel opened his mouth as though to say something then closed it, staring at his feet. He'd probably heard all kinds of propaganda - could she really blame him for not understanding?

But I can help him. "I think you'd like Kira-kun."

He looked dubious. "Really?"

"Mmm-hmm." She took a bite of her scrambled eggs. "He's a nice boy."

He scratched his nose under the mask. "Cause of.."

"No. Altering genes might improve reflexes, intelligence, whatever, but they don't change the kind of person you are. Whether Kira-kun was a Coordinator or not, he'd still be the same inside."

"You sound like a teacher." he almost grumbled.

She grinned, popping another bite of food into her mouth. "I am a teacher."

He'd wanted to hear her side of things, and she'd obliged, recounting a story that sounded almost frighteningly believeable. There had been sadness, bitterness there in her eyes - it wasn't just something she'd learned to recite. She'd seen it happen. She isn't lying. The thought sent a chill up his spine. If she wasn't lying, then... "I don't suppose you're exaggerating."

Her smile was sympathetic, as though she understood how he felt. "I wish I was."

"Dammit.."

"I'm sorry." Captain Ramius twirled her fork idly. "I didn't mean to make things so difficult."

"My fault for asking."

"You only have my word, and you don't have to believe that."

He smiled a little...she was actually trying to make him feel better. "But you're telling the truth."

"Yes." she replied a little sadly. "Yes, I'm telling the truth."

Deep down, he'd known they were capable of something like that. He'd seen too many soldiers killed, too many ships destroyed - if they thought the ends justified the means, then the higher-ups would give the order. Sacrificed like pawns in a chess game. He and his own ship were no exception. But she fought it. She escaped, and now she's trying to put an end to it all. Optimistic, idealistic, and extremely brave. "Has it been worth it?"

She smiled slightly, though the expression was bittersweet this time. "Yes and no. We helped put a stop to things the first time, but we lost people in the process. Like everyone else, I guess."

"But you keep trying."

A definite nod. "For a world everyone can live in, whoever they are. I know it won't happen overnight, however this war ends, but it's possible."

"I see." And he did. It was a nice idea. Though it didn't help her situation any. Tugging off his mask with a sigh he ran a hand through his hair, glancing sideways at her curious look. The only light in her cell came from outside where the guard usually waited, so he doubted she'd be able to see his face. "Hmm?"

"Why do you wear that?"

"To hide the scars."

She shuffled a little closer, breakfast dishes clinking, and squinted in the dim light. "I can't see any. It's too dark."

"I know." Neo replaced the mask. No-one on his ship save one of the doctors had ever seen his face, and he planned to keep it that way. Too many questions he didn't know how to answer.

"Were you in an accident?"

"Mobile suit accident," he replied quietly. "So they tell me, anyway. I don't remember."

"I'm sorry." She placed a gentle hand on his arm for a moment. "I shouldn't have asked."

"It's no bother. Used to it now." Taking the empty tray from her he placed it on the floor, handing her the bundle of clean hospital clothing. "Here. The doctor's coming by in a while to check your cast and change the bandages."

The captain smiled. "Thank you. Want to turn away while I get changed?"

"Huh? Oh, uh...yeah.." Embarrassed (and unused to embarrassment) he turned and stared out at the cell block beyond the bars, shuffling his feet at the rustle of material. Eventually she moved to stand by his side, auburn hair rumpled and smile mischievous.

"All done."

"So I see." Shaking his head to clear it he did his best to assume a commanding pose, unwilling to admit that she'd flustered him, and thankfully she didn't say anything more, just sat back on the edge of the bed and swung her legs.

"Will you stay here?"

"While the doctor's here? Yeah." Noticing her sudden worry he smiled a little. "It's okay. He won't tell anyone you're here. And neither will I."

She seemed surprised at that. "You decided not to?"

"Yeah." Whether she'd told him the truth or not (and he believed she had) he couldn't hand her over. He had too much on his conscience already. "Doubt the Alliance would get much out of you."

She pulled a face. "They never did anyway."

"No, I could see that." At her puzzled look he shrugged. "One of the officers wrote a report about you - I found it when I was checking last week. You weren't exactly a model soldier."

"No, I wasn't. But I always thought there was more to being a good officer than swallowing the rule book and besides, we usually ended up in situations where the rules weren't clear. I did what I felt was right. And we got through everything." She was clearly proud of that, of how much her ship and crew had gone through and survived, and he could understand why.

"You did a good job."

The captain looked up sharply at that, and he smiled and nodded. Why he was reassuring her he had no idea - just being around her was making him act strangely - but it felt like the right thing to say. She smiled back, hesitantly, then to his surprise (and dismay) she began to cry, dark eyes closed as tears slid silently down her cheeks.

"Hey, c'mon.." Unsure of what to do he patted her shoulder, feeling awkward. Reaching behind him he picked up the discarded hospital tunic and passed her it to dry her tears. "Sorry.."

She hiccupped. "It's alright."

Why would she cry at a compliment? "I meant it, you know.."

A watery smile. "I know you did. Thank you."

"Why cry, though?"

She rubbed away the last of the tears. "It's good to hear that I did the right thing. That I did a good job. I always had doubts."

And he understood, or thought he did."Didn't anyone say that? Not even your crew?"

"One of them did," she replied softly, lips curving into a fond smile. "I never thanked them enough."

"I doubt they'd have needed it. Not if you saved them."

The smile became wistful, almost sad. "You think so?"

"Course. If it were me, I'd say we were quits. Bet you they think the same."

"Thank you." Hearing the door open she glanced up to see the doctor, thin fingers curled in the tunic so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"It's alright," he murmured. "I'll stay."


He watched her the whole time. She remained silent and expressionless, staring straight ahead as the doctor unwound the bandages around her chest and gently felt her ribs to check how the fractures were healing. Once satisfied, he brought out a sort of pressure wrap that acted as bandages would, carefully fastening it in place before motioning her to pull down her tunic.

"That should just about do it. Now the cuts are healed you can keep that on all the time."

She nodded, sitting still as he undid the sling to check her cast. Her arm did look better, the bruising a little less, and she obediently wiggled her fingers when asked.

"Good. Just a couple more weeks and we can swap that for a lighter one. You're pretty tough."

You don't know the half of it..

"You have a fan," he observed mildly once the doctor had left. The captain just rolled her eyes, brushing at her arm as though trying to rid herself of the touch.

"He gives me the creeps."

"You don't trust him?"

"Not in the least." She fiddled with a lock of auburn hair. "Should I?"

"Probably not."

A little half-smile. "Didn't think so."

For some reason curious he looked back at her. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I feel as though I can."

"I see." He didn't, really - why anyone, least of all her, would trust him was a mystery - but it felt pretty good. She smiled at that, the expression gentle, and shuffled back on the tiny bed, wincing slightly.

"Still hurts, huh?"

"Not as much."

She was putting a brave face on it and he knew it. The cell was dark and cramped, containing just an uncomfortable cot and toilet - it was intentionally humiliating, and the longer he'd kept her here, the more guilty he'd felt. She's not a prisoner. Not anymore. "I'm sorry."

She frowned. "For what?"

"Keeping you in here."

"It's okay. It's really not so bad."

I figured you'd say something like that. "I could find somewhere else for you to stay. Somewhere better than this."

She tipped her head to one side. "Why would you do that?"

"Because.." He smiled. "Because I want to."


He wouldn't tell her where they were going. He'd just shown up that evening the same as always, only instead of a tray of food and a change of clothes he'd simply carried an Alliance uniform jacket, which he'd draped around her shoulders before gesturing silently for her to follow him out of the cell and into the dimmed hallways of the ship. Confused and curious she peeked around her as they walked. bare feet making no sound on the metal deck. Once or twice she'd tried speaking up but he'd shook his head, finger to his lips, and so she'd followed him quietly. He asked me why I trusted him, and the truth is that I'm not exactly sure. It's just something I feel. Eventually they stopped outside a nondescript looking door, he entering a complicated code before ushering her into the room beyond.

And she blinked. "This is.."

"Better than a cell, right?"

"Why take this kind of risk, though? If you get found out.."

"I won't. And neither will you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I have to be." She must have still looked worried as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. You'll be fine."

"I don't want you to get punished because of me."

The Colonel studied her for a moment. "You're worried about me."

"Yes, I am."

"Don't be. This is my decision, and I'm sticking with it."

"Even if you regret it?"

"I don't think I will." His tone was earnest, smile small but genuine, and not for the first time she wished she could see his eyes - she felt sure they were kind. Shaking her head in exasperation she smiled.

"Alright then, if you're sure."

"You are stubborn, you know. You think you'll be okay here?"

Murrue glanced around at the room. He'd brought her to what looked like officers' quarters, spacious and comfortable - a big change from the cramped cell. "More than okay. Thank you."

He nodded. "I'll be back in a while."

Once he'd gone (locking her in, but she wouldn't have felt safe if he hadn't) she took the time to explore her surroundings. A small desk with a darkened and probably locked-down workstation, a comfortable-looking bed, an empty closet and, to her delight, a tiny bathroom, which she wasted no time in using. Showering with one arm was awkward, but the wrap the doctor had provided for her ribs was waterproof so with care she was able to wash properly, which was wonderful.

Once dressed she peeked back out into the main cabin, rubbing dark hair dry with a towel, and smiled to see him waiting there, a bowl of something hot on the desk beside him.

"I'm going to end up owing you so much I won't be able to pay it back."

The Colonel smiled himself a little, reaching up to rub his nose under the metal mask. He didn't say anything, but she thought he looked pleased. Crossing the room she sniffed at the bowl. Pasta, in tomato sauce.

"Hungry?"

"Mmm-hmm." She carried the bowl over to the bed and sat down, digging in happily. He watched her quietly for a moment before sidling a little closer, standing in silence. That and his black uniform made him seem like a shadow and she rolled her eyes. "Why are you just standing there?"

"Eh?"

"Standing there watching me. It's weird."

"Is it really?" She thought she heard a trace of a smile in his voice.

"Yes." Taking another forkful of pasta she shuffled up on the bed. "At least sit down."

He did, but didn't look entirely comfortable, staring at white boots and saying nothing while she ate. Until his stomach growled, that is, so loudly it seemed to echo in the room. Murrue tried hard to keep a straight face - it wasn't fair to make fun - but couldn't quite manage it. Hiding the smile with the back of her hand she nodded toward the bowl. "Get some if you want."

"M'okay.." he murmured, sounding horribly embarrassed.

"There's enough for both of us. Here;" She placed the bowl in his lap. "Eat as much as you want."

"Really?"

"Of course."

He scratched at his nose again. "Thanks.." Picking up the fork he began to eat quite quickly, leading her to suspect he'd skipped meals much like she'd used to.

"Busy work, isn't it? Doesn't anyone remind you to eat?"

"Not really."

She shook her head, accepting the now half-empty bowl back. "Then someone should."

"You're volunteering?"

"Why not?"

He smiled. "Alright then."

You're a good person. I bet your crew is only scared of you because they haven't tried to get to know them, or you haven't let them try. I wonder if anyone's ever treated you normally?