Evfra had not slept well that night. He had slept deeply but had dreams of waking only to miss the Tempest coming into port. It was a silly fantasy. If he did not see the Tempest, someone would tell him of its arrival, but he dreamed it all the same. The very thought of staring out his window forlornly with Sara having come and gone without a word made him feel like a simpering child, but there was something that made him wake in the night to look out the window.

The cool breeze and the sound of the night creatures chittering and scuffling in the quiet streets seemed surreal to him. The black sky was filled with stars that twinkled before hiding behind the skirts of the dark night clouds once more. The houseplant on his sill was damp where he had forgotten to close the window, and its yellow blooms were tucked safely asleep for the evening. He leaned against the sill and breathed in the night air feeling the quiver of anticipation dance through his field. He glanced at the houseplant and pulled it inside shutting the glass but leaving the curtains parted.

In the last few days, he had been browsing through the Nexus vid collection again trying to attain an idea of what a human relationship would be like – should be like. Sara had given him more than he felt he could provide as far as the comforts of home. He hoped to give her the same. Perhaps some Milky Way traditions could bleed into the Andromedan lifestyle. He was willing to try for her sake. Unfortunately, the only thing he had felt apt enough to give her was the glass of beautiful Ayan weeds adorning his coffee table at the moment. The angara had never had a tradition of giving or planting flowers – even less so now with the rapt attention on the war, but he had noticed the bright orange stalks on his walks to and from the Resistance headquarters. His bouquet was uniform and orderly, but he hoped that Ryder would like it.

He sat a carafe of coffee on the stove and went back to his shower to ready himself for the day. If anyone had asked him – of course, they would not, he wouldn't have admitted to spending more time on his grooming than usual. He brushed his teeth twice – before and after coffee – and scrubbed until his skin began to turn a harsh purple. When he returned to the stove, the normally happily bubbling carafe was steaming from neglect. He poured the carafe in a mug and picked an upwa flavored ration bar from the cabinet. He had grown a newfound fondness for the taste since visiting Rvik's orchard. Perhaps the upwa had reminded him of his home too much in the past, but he would never admit the change had anything to do with that subject.

He turned to see the first rays of sunlight streaming through his window. The day was promising despite all the ruckus the meteorologists had promised, and the hope made his wish it to stay that way. The yellow buds had unfurled at the dawn and bobbed in the breeze. Evfra picked up his watering bottle and walked to the sill, but his hand stopped when he reached to spray the flower. He would never admit that Jaal's forced gift much like his forced care was dear to him, but the fact remained. He looked back to the unbroken orange of the weeds and – before he thought further – snapped the yellow bloom off at the base of the stalk. He tucked it into the side of the orange with greater care than he had gathered any of the other homogenous flowers. When he stepped back to admire it, a smile nearly crept to his lips already anticipating it blooming again within the next five years and presenting it once more to Ryder. If nothing else, he was a man of tradition, and he had already wished to adopt some of hers as well as to give his own. This seemed as good a place to start as any.

He swung the rolfjinn on his shoulders and picked up his mug and ration bar without looking back but harboring that small comfort within him. The office was a brisk walk in the chilly morning air. The bare bones of patrols and merchants setting out their wares were the only souls awake at the moment. Soldiers before a battle are lighthearted and will spend their money. The merchants wanted to be certain to catch it. The few soldiers that were selected for patrol looked on the opening festivities with the grogginess of a late night. Evfra would be a fool to think some hadn't celebrated previously. One such recruit was sitting on the Resistance steps holding his head in his hand and groaning. Evfra stopped in front of him and glared. When the boy looked up, his red eyes widened, and he bolted to his feet much too quickly for his body to handle.

"Soldier," growled Evfra, "was your duty a surprise to you this morning?"

"No, general!"

Evfra noticed the recruit wince at his loud voice, so Evfra was especially careful to make it louder. "Name and rank."

"Private Leneer, Sir!"

Evfra let the boy fidget for a moment before growling, "Report to the disciplinary officer, private. Aya will not stand unguarded. Judging by your state, your unit will be able to do the job of one man."

"Yes, sir."

To Evfra's surprise, the boy's face showed no ounce of fear. His lips were pressed tight in a line of shame. His recruits may have made a mistake, but he was proud of this one for shouldering the blame. His commanding officer had trained him well.

"Carry on."

"Yes, sir!"

Evfra heard the sigh of relief that turned into a groan near the end, but he did not turn to look. He strode purposefully into the headquarters. At his desk, he quickly sent out a notification to the disciplinary officer that guards were not to be incapacitated in any way for duty and passed on the message about Private Leneer. He drummed his fingers on the table and – as an afterthought – asked to be notified on the private's conduct.

He opened the supply requests page that Pasha had left for him. It was approval for the dreadnaughts leaving in the morning. The ship had been loaded yesterday, but the quartermaster had said some items were missing or insufficient. Evfra had appointed the quartermaster himself and trusted the man to do more than his fair share of work. He approved the ammunition, uniform, and medical supplies request. He also tasked the quartermaster with finding where those particular boxes had vanished to. Piracy was still on Aya although much stealthier. Some crimes must be punished harshly, and pirates did not have a Moshae to bestow upon them her good graces. That was Evfra's realm.

He gritted his teeth. It was always something. He had hoped that the day would be empty, but as always the war didn't care if he was busy or not. He was only grateful that Pasha had come in as well to take some of the load herself. She was tenacious if nothing else. The Moshae had chosen well.

Admiral Heckt had sent in a request for transport of the soldiers' bodies that did not have family homes on Voeld: two on Havarl and one on Aya. Evfra pushed the comm button summoning Pasha. He handed her the approved forms. She flipped through a screen and handed the datapad back. He looked at the screen seeing that she had attached a veterans' rolfjinn to the invoice.

"A token," she shrugged. "With your approval, of course. It would give the families something to remember them by without compromising too much on supplies. At first, I thought of their weapons, but the inventory is too low to send those back. I can take it off if you wish."

Evfra's mouth pulled into a somber line, and he felt her fidget beside him. "Do we have the materials to accommodate this?"

"Yes, sir. The restoration of Havarl has allowed for a surplus in clothing materials to be manufactured. We were performing adequately under the weather restrictions, and production has tripled with the vault restoration."

After a brief time, he signed his name to the order and handed the datapad back to her focusing his attention on the strategy suggestions from his Commanders. "And, Pasha, good work."

He said it gruffly and refused to make eye contact maintaining a superior air, but he meant it. He liked the idea that his fallen could leave a memory behind. It was something extravagant in their frugal society, and like all good things seemed these days, it was due to Ryder being the unstoppable force that she was. In some ways, he felt he was falling behind. Of course, if ever asked, he would say she was simply catching up.

He finished early and met the quartermaster and the squad leaders to do another check on the dreadnaughts. It made him feel at ease to be at the docks where he could physically see the Tempest dock, and he did. He was standing on the forecastle surveying the deck and directing the gunnery squad leaders to their stations. It was the last task, and they wanted to visit their friends and family as much as he wanted off the damned ship. His temper shortened with each moment that the Tempest sat at the dock. His usual expectation of being obeyed the first time was bordering on preemptive telepathy by the end of the assignments. They were all grateful to end it.

He strode down to the dock to see Ryder talking with a merchant to the dock starboard the Tempest. She sighed and nodded at him unenthusiastically. Her day off seemed to be going as splendidly as his own, but then she saw him and smiled brilliantly.

"Evfra," she said, and it was the most enthusiastic and shining thing he had heard. "It is so good to see you. I have wonderful news!"

Whatever had hardened him during his day melted at hearing her speak his tongue. She was still shaky but improving. It would never be the same as hearing his family speak without the ebb and flow of the field, but he found that somehow more pleasing that he hadn't been given a replica but a new start.

"It is good to see you, too, my love. Is that your news?" He nodded to the merchant behind her now conversing with the refueling technician.

"Huh? Oh. No." She waved dismissively at the man. "He's colony requisitions. They need…" She looked back down at the datapad. "…quilloa seeds? It's a job, I guess." She winked at him, and he folded his arms in apparent disapproval.

"Then what is this news," he asked indulgently as his field reached out and felt her enjoying the familiarity.

She took his hands and held them tight. "Scott is awake. My brother is back. He's still in recovery – nothing serious. But he's here in Andromeda all the way now!"

"Sara," he began a somber tone in his voice.

"Oh, god," she rolled her eyes. "Don't make an angaran speech about the importance of family. It sounds so formal, and Jaal has already done it with much more pomp than you could do."

Evfra was affronted at first, but then he thought of Jaal and his ramblings that he had been subjected to at more than one occasion. "I am glad he has saved me the trouble."

"Now, you can stop being blue, and we can just be happy." He had little time to think how he was meant to change his skin color before she looked at the datapad and linked arms with him. "And you can make sure that whatever the hell quilloa seeds are I find them."

He placed a hand over her own. "I was raised on a plantation. I believe I am up to the task."

She smiled at him and nodded. "Lead on."

They walked through the thickening crowd tightly together – a necessity the Evfra enjoyed. The merchants in Aya were intent on hawking wares to the growing crowd. Night was starting to fall, and the soldiers were merrily dropping Ayan coin and credits alike for the duration of the evening. It was a temporary happiness for some and cherished memories for others. None knew if they would return to spend the coin again. The thought was sobering, and Evfra didn't realize his grim expression until Ryder poked him in the ribs. Her eyes went up in surprise, and he refused to look at her feeling his cheeks coloring.

"You squeaked," she said simply.

"I do not squeak," he replied in a gravelly tone.

"You do," she affirmed and reached to poke him again.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd to the center of the market. He didn't know which stall would sell the seeds, or he would've simply continued to the stall. As things were, he stood awkwardly in the center looking from stall to stall trying to not appear lost. He dropped her hand and crossed his arms.

"Which stall has your damned seeds?"

She laughed at him which didn't boost his self esteem in the least. He followed her to another angara, nodded when Ryder showed him the seeds, and waited impatiently for her to pay. The angara kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, and the way her field prickled was suggestive. He didn't want to answer it in anyway, so he tightened his field to the width of a second skin. He turned away tapping his foot impatiently and crossing his arms.

Ryder sidled up to him and leaned in pecking him on the cheek surprising him with the warmth. "Let's go, love," she said loudly, and he immediately felt the prying field vanish.

His defenses melted, and he smiled down at the small woman. "I will go anywhere with you."

Ryder's eyes widened in surprise, and her cheeks turned red. She wrapped her fingers in his and squeezed not meeting his gaze. Her grip reminded him of a small child taking possession, and he felt a tenderness well in his chest. He squeezed back and pulled her to the docks taking his time. He was enjoying the feel of her hand in his and letting his field run over her claiming her as his own in the busy streets. He leaned against the rail as she gave the seeds to Merixus, the merchant.

Their task had distracted him from his intended goal, and as he watched Ryder pass the seeds, he began to jitter with an uncharacteristic nervousness. The cold bars bit into his arms as the wind blew through the open docks bringing the cool night air with it. He was rolling the words around in his mouth trying to convince his tongue to form them when Ryder took a place beside him and leaned her shoulder into his own. The heat of her body only served to make him tense. His field began to hum.

"I can't wait for you to meet Scott," she offered. "I hope you two get along."

He made a noncommittal sound. He would – of course – meet her brother and try to be more sociable and relatable than his usual self, but that was in the future, and he was having a difficult time focusing on that. He wanted to live in the night like his soldiers right now. Ryder turned and leaned over the rail so her face was turned to him. Her brows were scrunched together in concern, and she reached to trail a hand down the scar on his cheek. At the sudden touch, his hum turned dangerous. She flinched, and he felt immediately mortified. He caught her hand and inspected it with his brows knitted in concern.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head and her hand trying to remove the pins and needles. "That's the second time you've done that," she said with more annoyance in her voice than pain.

He closed his eyes and breathed trying to calm the hum around him. "I apologize. I didn't wish to hurt you."

"Do you not want to meet Scott?"

"No. That is not it at all. I would like to meet your family as you have met my own." He licked his lips and rubbed his hands together. "What did you want to do today? Are you leaving this evening?"

"No. The Tempest is docked for the night."

"We could go to the tavetaan – if you are hungry."

She took a deep breath. "Evfra, I really want to just relax. There's too much to think about tomorrow, and I'm tired of it. I need a break. I want a break. Here. With you."

He stood and held out his hand. "I will order us each a meal from the tavetaan. We can deliver it to the Tempest or my apartment. I do have a gift for you at the apartment though."

She took his hand, and the grateful smile that crossed her face showed him her answer before she said it. "That sounds wonderful. Dinner and a gift – at your place."

The walk to his apartment was swift, and when the doors slid open, her eyes fell upon the bouquet on the coffee table. The orange sea was a mess of closed and open. In his ignorance, he had not noticed that the flowers merely bloomed for a day. They had simply always seemed to be there. The yellow flowers were starting to close but still bright and open. Ryder walked to the table and took a deep breath. Evfra tensed for a moment. It hadn't occurred to him that flowers had to smell sweet and look pretty. She brushed the black hair from her cheek and looked up at him with a smile.

"Are these for me?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yes. I am not an expert at botany. My talents lie… elsewhere. Not in the gentler arts."

She laughed and wrapped her arms around him placing her face in the gap of his collar. He tentatively returned the hug. His fingers traced over her back before gripping her and holding her tighter. He filled his field with warmth hoping it would reach to her.

"I love them. Thank you, Evfra."

"I will do better next time," he offered.

He felt her smile and kissed her head letting his lips feel the way the soft strands stuck to them. It was obviously going to be different being with an alien, but he was enjoying the exploration. He leaned back from her and looked at her hair in puzzlement.

"What?"

"It's…" He brushed his hand above her head watching the strands stick to him. "…upright," he finished in confusion.

She wiped her hair trying to fix it back into place to no avail. The black strands popped up as soon as her hand left them. She looked at him with a question in her eyes. He shook his head.

"It's your damned field," she said in annoyance. "I try to look pretty for once, and you put static all over me."

He smiled and rubbed her head again. The hair that he had become so fascinated with stuck to his palm as he pulled it away. "I think you always look beautiful," he replied simply. In truth, he was amused at her red cheeks and attempts to make herself presentable for his sake – not that he would complain either way.

She held her hair to the back of her neck and looked down with a small smile, and he knew that he had done something correctly.

"I will order the food. Please make yourself at home."

She nodded shyly at him. He busied himself with the comm making a selection from the human menu and the angaran menu. He had asked Jaal for suggestions under the guise of imports for future angaran-human relations, but whether his friend admitted it or not, Evfra was certain he knew the real reason of his unique inquisition. When Evfra looked up from his comm, Ryder was not in either the living area or the kitchen. That left one other portion of the house. He gulped unsure if he should follow her or not. He pushed his bedroom door open and heard the shower running. He swallowed before firmly closing the door. He didn't know that when offering hospitality to a human that had extended to the private places in one's home. He sat on the couch flicking through the vid selection once more and turned the audio up enough to drown out the sound of running water.

"That felt wonderful."

He jumped at the voice behind him, and the datapad clattered to the floor. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"You didn't change," he stated.

"I didn't bring a change of clothes," she replied. "I didn't want to presume –"

"Maybe I have something." He strode purposefully to his bedroom and began digging in his closet. He knew he was being too accommodating, but he was nervous and in territory he hadn't traversed in a decade or more. It was when he was frowning at his few garments realizing the size was not the problem as much as the dissimilar limbs that he heard Ryder's soft voice.

"Really, Evfra. I'm fine. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm sure I have something." His voice told a different story.

"Evfra." He flinched at the touch of her hand on his arm, and to his dismay, he saw her wince. "Nothing has to happen tonight. I should have asked before using your shower. I'm sorry."

He put the clothes back and sighed trying to relax. He was more embarrassed than anything. He would be more comfortable in a war room than entertaining a lover. "I… have not done this in a long time, Sara. I can not truthfully say that you do not make me uncomfortable, but – " He looked into the blue of her eyes. "It would be a lie to say I would prefer to be somewhere else."

She smiled gently at him not flinching anymore at the fierceness in his voice or the grip of his field, and his heart was in his throat. He wanted to do things with her that he would never act on in another situation. He wasn't certain what to expect or what she expected from him. The vids he had seen had not been the feeling that he wanted to convey. There was something to rushed and impersonal about them. He wanted it to be personal. He wanted it, yet he feared it as he had never feared anything in his life. It made breaking the entire thing off seem almost acceptable.

"Why don't we eat? I noticed that you were watching a vid. We could finish it."

He turned a darker color not wanting her to see his watch history nor his suggestions. "You can pick one."

She raised an eyebrow and started to speak, but the ding of the doorbell sounded throughout the room. He was grateful for the escape. He paid the man at the door, and when he turned back to the living room, he saw Ryder watching the vid with a merry smile on the couch. Her feet were curled under her, and she was crooked in the corner. She smiled at him.

"I never would have thought you were a romance buff."

He sat the food down in front of her and went to get two glasses of water and cutlery thanking the stars that she had only thought that. "I'm not. It was…"

After the beat of silence and his return, she took the glass from him and took a sip. Her lips left a smudge on the clear surface. "Was what?"

"Research," he replied uncomfortably taking a seat in the other crook adding to the distance between them. "Humans are also not in my area of expertise." He looked at the flowers, and she followed his gaze.

She smiled and propped the datapad against the vase. She adjusted to sit closer to him crossing her legs – a movement he found both fascinating and strange. He had never seen an angaran woman bend that way for obvious reasons. It served to remind him how strange and unnatural this arrangement could become. Her knee was carefully placed to touch his thigh, and the warmth bled through his armor. She opened her food and smiled when he handed her the cutlery. He observed for a moment before he was satisfied that he had chosen the cuisine to her liking and eating his own. When they both were finished, she was wrapped in the film, and he cleaned the meal from the coffee table. He was amused at the way her eyes followed the characters and how unknowingly she watched with her mouth slightly ajar. He had never thought to be privy to seeing the Pathfinder slack jawed. When he sat back down, she twined her arms around him oblivious to how his heart began to race and his field bloomed. He placed an arm around her shoulders and enjoyed her more than the vid. Human shoulders were much the same as angaran shoulders. He was hoping some similarities would soothe his field. Shocking her again was the last thing he wanted to do. Nothing like being scared beyond all semblance of control showed a woman that one could care for and protect her. When the credits rolled, she yawned.

"Are you tired," he asked rushing a little too quickly to her aid.

She nodded into him with a groan and a squeeze. He ran his hand through her hair watching to see if the static would return when wet, and he could have sworn he heard her humming in appreciation. It boosted his confidence, so he continued down her back feeling the shoulder blades and spine as he gently rubbed and scratched making note of the happy sounds she made. Tentatively, he added a touch of his field letting his hands hum, and he smiled at her appreciative groan watching her close her eyes. He was grateful this field of his was good for something in their relationship.

"Do you want to stay here? I can take the couch." He didn't want to.

She shook her head leaning back from him. "Tomorrow is too important to not sleep in a bed." She looked at the clock. "It's still so early. It seems later."

"You work hard."

She laughed. "Not today." She leaned against him and looked to his window where the curtains were fluttering in the moonlight. "It's almost too perfect."

He pulled her tight against him and wrapped his field around her. It was almost too perfect. On this night, he was finding it hard to believe that they would both be covered in blood before the end of tomorrow. He found it hard to think that there might never be a night like this again. He pulled her tighter with a low growl.

"Let's not think about it," she said disarming him in the moment.

He looked down at her blue eyes. She untangled herself from him and sat facing him almost formal. She ran a hand down the scar on his face once again, and he couldn't look away. She pulled his chin to hers and lightly kissed the scar then his lips. The places her lips touched seemed to glow on him. Her eyes flickered between his own and his lips for a moment. She began to fidget growing uncomfortable. It was not what he had intended. He wanted her to feel safe – as if she could do nothing to harm his good opinion of her. He tangled his fingers in her hair which he was growing quite fond of and pulled her roughly to his lips. It was filled with the need of comfort and touch. It had been so long since he had been touched, and when her fingers gripped his thighs and her lips parted, he broke the kiss leaning his forehead in the crook of her neck and shoulder breathing heavily. She wrapped her arms around him pulling him closer into a hug. Her felt her kiss his head and lay her cheek against his scalp.

"Sara," he said sitting back.

"Evfra," she echoed with a hint of playfulness, "I'm going to be here again. There's no rush."

He took her hand, kissed it, and rubbed it against his cheek enjoying the callouses on her palm. The words were wonderful to him. To know one was not to left behind was a luxury that he had not often had. Of course, words were simply words. One of them could never return. "I am not rushed. I… want to make a memory."

She knew the unspoken fear that he harbored, and she understood it all too well. They had been through too much already to ignore the reality. It was always lurking – tinting bright memories grey.

"Me too," she breathed. That was all the invitation he needed.