You saw Jesse a lot less after the Halloween ball; it almost seemed like he was avoiding you as much as you were trying to steer clear of him. The thought was sad, but you knew it was probably for the best, after all it was hard to seek comfort or companionship in someone who had no interest in seeking the same from you. But, while Jesse had made himself scarce, his boyfriend seemed to do the opposite. Where before you were about as likely to catch a glimpse of Hanzo as you were to catch a whale in a fish barrel, you now found his dark gaze nearly everywhere, most especially when Dean was by your side. The way he watched you struck you as odd and did nothing to soothe your nerves about Jesse. Eventually, about a month after the ball, you'd had enough of the quiet stakeouts and rounded on him in an empty corridor when the chance provided itself.

"Why are you following me?" you asked, catching him by surprise. You could see the lies forming behind those dark eyes as he looked away, refusing to meet your gaze. "And don't even think about lying to me! I can smell a lie from a mile away." That, of course, was a falsehood. The average person could only correctly distinguish when someone was lying about fifty-four percent of the time, and you were no better than the average person. But Hanzo didn't need to know that. "Jesse put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Jesse didn't put me up to anything," he shot back, though his words weren't bitter. Instead they sounded, sad, almost apologetic. But you didn't want an apology, you wanted to be done with this whole mess with Jesse, wanted to make Dean happy. It was the least you could do after you hurt him like you did back at the ball.

Almost as if he could read your thoughts, Hanzo's gaze hardened a bit and he stood a bit straighter, though keeping his head bent down towards you as if to lower himself to your height. "Jesse is concerned about you, and, frankly, I must admit that I am as well."

You scowled a bit. "Look, I appreciate that he wants to look out for me, but he doesn't have to have his boyfriend stalk me throughout the compound. And how on earth are you concerned about me? You don't even know me."

"I've seen the way you and Rose interact and it's concerning," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

A new anger burned up inside you and you held your files tighter against your chest. It wasn't all anger, though, there was a fear that you couldn't quite understand. Why were you so scared of this? "You know nothing about our relationship," you said slowly, shaking your head, "and you have no right to pry. I wouldn't throw bricks in a glass house such as yours. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to attend to, and I would like to finish the journey to my office, alone." With that, you turned to stalk off, but quickly stopped when Hanzo called after you.

"He's lying to you."

You turned just slightly, fingers tightening around the edge of the files in your hands. "What?"

"Whatever he's said about Jesse is a lie. I will not pretend to know what Rose has told you, but Jesse wants nothing more than to make sure you are happy and safe, Miss Marsh. That's why he has asked me to keep an eye on you." He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "He cares for you a lot more than he shows." There was a strange twinkle in his eye, one that almost suggested he was starting to do the same, but you dismissed it.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, thinking over what he had just said. 'Why would… why would Dean lie to me? He wouldn't? Would he?... No… no, he wouldn't. He wouldn't betray my trust like that, I won't believe it.' Shaking your head, you turned away. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Shimada," you said, already distancing yourself from the conversation. "But it's unnecessary. Dean and I are happy, end of story. Now, if you would stop following me, I would be very grateful." You didn't wait for a response this time, and hurried down the corridor. The walk to the office wasn't long, but it certainly felt like it was with how much your mind was trying to work over what he had just said. 'But… what if he actually is lying to me?'

Pausing in front of your office door, you glanced back down the corridor, almost hoping to see Hanzo still standing there. Maybe if he had stuck around, he'd be willing to talk about this a little more, maybe he would forgive your rudeness. But the archer was nowhere to be seen. You were alone.

Biting your lip, you waved your card and the door to your office slid open, startling the occupant inside. Piddie let out a little mrew? of curiosity and lifted his furry little head to look up at you from your desk where he was laying among some old paperwork you had yet to file.

You let out a sigh of a laugh, letting the door slide shut behind you as you walked in, reaching out to scratch the top of your cat's head. "Hey there Pids," you murmured, setting your files down next to him. "I almost forgot you have access to my office too. Did you miss me? You've been spending quite a bit of time with Dean lately."

Euripides purred, stretching his head up to butt his head to your palm, his collar jingling softly at the movement. As the fur shifted, you caught sight of a little piece of yellow paper rolled up and stuck to the collar. Curious, you switched hands and pulled the paper off, unrolling it. Almost immediately you smiled. It was a little note from Dean, a cute little "I 3 u!", but it was charming in its simplicity.

'No. I trust him. Dean cares about me too much to lie to me like that,' you determined, flattening the note and setting it beside some of your desk decorations. You shook your head, scolding yourself for putting any stock into whatever little scheme Jesse had put together to make you trust him, and sat down to work.

It took hours to get all that paperwork done. Why that agent had to go out of his way to be such a dumbass was beyond you, and you almost regretted offering to take the paperwork off of Winston's hands. But, that was what you were here for, after all, and you felt truly accomplished when you finally finished it.

"That wasn't so bad," you told yourself, leaning back in your chair as you took a sip of your now cold coffee. It was a lie, of course, it was as bad as you had thought it would be, but you didn't want to make it into a big deal.

That was something you found yourself doing more often, lying. Lying to stop a fight, lying to dismiss negative attention, lying to keep yourself safe, lying to appease. It wasn't particularly something you liked doing, and you hated that you'd been doing it more often, but it seemed almost necessary. Was every relationship like this? That was almost how it had been with Jeremy, but Jeremy was a douche and was never truly nice to you, not like Dean was. Dean lavished you with attention, always wanting to make sure you knew how much he loved you. He bought you dinners, brought you coffee and snacks on those long days where you hardly made it out of your office for potty breaks, made sure you remembered to drink water and reminded you when you had appointments with Dr. Penn, and, anytime he could, he would cuddle you nearly to death. Not at all like Jeremy.

But there were some similarities you'd noticed; nights when Dean came home extremely late, drunk, and was a little too touchy feely, moments when you swore you could see the flash of anger in those green eyes when your topics strayed to other people, mostly men, how he kept secrets. They were mostly small; where he had been, what he had done that day, who he had been with. He always told you the same story, "I was out with some friends", but being out with friends didn't explain the solemn, stone expressions he would come home with, the days when he wouldn't come back until the wee hours of the mornings, the strange scents he would come back home wearing. Eventually, he stopped responding to your inquiries about his day, instead immediately steering the conversation elsewhere. You had chalked it up to him finding the repetition exceedingly boring and wanting to talk about something else.

You frowned, the coffee mug still pressed delicately against your lips. No, Dean wasn't like Jeremy, but there was something about him…

Your holo flashed, shattering your thought process and making you jump in your seat, almost splashing cold coffee onto your uniform. Frowning, you set the cup down and leaned forward to investigate; the holoscreen had inverted its colours somehow.

"That's strange," you murmured, moving to switch to the settings page to see what you could do to fix it. Before you could touch anything, however, the holo flashed a couple more times, displayed an astonishing wall of code that just kept running down the screen at an alarming rate, then went completely dark. It sat there for a few seconds, quiet save for the blinking icon that sat there, waiting for words to appear and move it along.

You tapped at the keyboard.

Nothing happened.

You tapped some more.

Nothing.

Then, without any prompting, the cursor moved, leaving a trail of words behind in its wake.

Your stomach dropped, you went ice cold.

"H E L P," it said, the white letters screaming against the black abyss behind them. " H. D. E. D. G I B S."

The room was quiet for the kind of meeting they were having, far too quiet. This was a matter of security, a top priority, and yet everyone was silent, watching as Winston sifted through walls of coding.

He was frowning deeply. "I don't think I've seen anyone code like this in quite a while," he muttered, rubbing at his face. "And the fact that he was able to hack his way through my security protocols…"

"Gibson was always very good at those kinds of things," you said, shaking your head as you looked out the window. You couldn't bear to look at anyone's faces right now, too consumed with worry for your friend. With that brush with Arachnid you had only months before, you felt as if you had caused this; they were looking for you.

"Whether he's a veteran hacker or not, I'd certainly want him on my team," Winston chuckled, making you frown.

"Is this really the time to be making jokes, Winston?" Ana asked, shaking her head at him as she came over to you. Her hand was warm on your shoulder, surprisingly comforting. "I am so sorry this happened, Briallen. We are going to do everything we can to make sure we get him out of there safely."

"I should have a team ready by tomorrow," Jack added, nodding at you from across the room.

You met his gaze through the reflection of the glass, digging your nails into the meat of your arm. This was your mess, you wanted to fix it and get Gibson out of there as soon as possible. "We might not have until tomorrow," you said, turning away from the mirror and giving Ana a small, grateful smile that quickly faded. "We need a team now."

Jack frowned. "You're not in a position to make those kinds of decisions, Briallen."

"Well then put me in one!" you barked, your sudden venom making everyone in the room jump. "Better yet, put me on the team! I'd much rather it be my life on the line than Gibs'. I'm the one who caused this mess in the first place!"

"Briallen," Angela started, taking a step towards you.

"No! Don't you "Briallen" me! I'm not a child, Angela, don't treat me like one." You turned to face Jack, not even bothering to hide the challenge in your eyes. "You and I both know that even if you don't put me on the team, I'm going, whether you like it or not. I'm not some helpless little intern, Commander. I'm a near perfect shot, I've got plenty of hand to hand combat under my belt, it's about time you let me do something other than sit at a desk and push buttons all day!"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is… Briallen what has gotten into you? You've never expressed interest in being in the field as a combatant before. In fact, you seemed pretty hesitant when I mentioned you might be put in a situation where you would have no choice. What's changed?"

Angela shot you a worried glance.

You paused. "I… I don't know, okay? All I know is my best friend is in danger and you're all just sitting around twiddling your damn thumbs! Who knows how long Gibson has left! I'm sorry, but I can't just sit around and hope and pray that everything is going to be okay, I need to know myself, I-" you stopped yourself, scared at the thoughts that just crossed your mind. You wanted to make Arachnid pay for this. If you found that anyone had hurt Gibson, you were more than ready to make them hurt. 'What's happening to me? I'm… I'm never like this…'

Jack, Angela, and Ana all exchanged a strange look as you went silent, Jack's more worried than anything.

"Briallen, have you been feeling alright?" he asked, moving as if to push himself up from the chair he was sitting in, but thought better of it. "Is everything okay?"

You seethed, pulling away from Ana as she moved to lay a hand on your arm. "I'm fine. Gibson is not," you spat, shaking a bit. "Now, you either put me on that team, or I'm going to go out there alone!"

"Now, Briallen, be smart about this," Angela cautioned, furrowing her brows.

"I am being smart!" you said, rounding on her. "I've taken down two of those fuckers before, by myself, it shouldn't be too hard to take down a handful more if it comes down to it. I know that I can handle this, now are you going to let me prove it or not?"

Angela looked up at Jack in concern, deferring the decision to him.

Jack was quiet for a bit before he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You really think you can do this?" he asked, turning serious blue eyes on you.

"Yes."

"Fine. Angela, comm McCree and Genji. Tell them to get their asses in gear. The sooner we mobilise, the faster we can get this over with." He shot a pointed look at you as he stood, frowning. "You'd better live up to your word, Miss Marsh."

The fact that they had placed Jesse on your team really didn't sink in until the last minute when you were following Jack down to the armored van, your go-bag slung across one shoulder. He was just standing there, almost as if he had been waiting for you. Just the sight of him sent a pang shuddering through your chest. It was easy to ignore how much you had found you'd cared for the cowboy when you two were actively trying to avoid each other, not so much when you were standing face to face, you with a frown, and he with that stupid grin of his.

"Briallen, darlin'. Long time no see," he said, turning his warm gaze on you. He seemed hesitant, glancing behind you a few times as if to make sure a certain someone wasn't following you, waiting to pounce on him for simply saying hello to you. "How've you been?"

"I think you already know the answer to that, Jesse." You glared at him, ignoring the urge to run over to him and lose yourself in his embrace, and instead indulging the urge to slap him in the face. The sting against your palm felt good. The pain in your chest did not. Still, you persisted. "You had no right to sic Hanzo on me like that," you said, jabbing a finger into his chest. Your body ached to let it drop, to apologise for avoiding him, to let him wrap his arms around you like he'd done so many times before, but you fought against it, holding onto the anger. You felt if you let it go then you wouldn't have the steel necessary to save Gibson.

Jesse groaned softly and massaged his cheek a bit, looking down at you with wide, apologetic eyes that made you want to slap him all over again, if only to see whether he'd actually get angry at you. "Briallen, I'm sorry if you think I crossed a line," he started, searching your gaze, "but I won't apologise for being concerned about you."

Jack grunted, looking between you two. "Look, can we save this lover's quarrel for later? We've got a man to rescue. You two can squabble all you like when we come back, now is not the time."

Ignoring the Commander, Jesse slowly dropped his hand down to his chest, wrapping it around the one you were currently jabbing against his chest, never breaking eye contact.

You flinched at the touch, but didn't pull away, letting the warmth of his hand envelop yours as you searched his gaze, trying to figure out his motives. Everything about him at the moment was so open, you could read him like a book; his eyes were earnest, the quirk at the edge of his lips playful, but his touch… There was a hope, a warmth, a yearning.

Your breath caught in your throat as your heart did a somersault. You swallowed hard, letting the emotions wash over you. This… This was real. It was overwhelming, blocking out the world for a few seconds, leaving only the two of you in the car park. You had never felt a connection like this before, never felt so much raw emotion in a single touch, a single getsure, it was almost too much. It scared you, but yet you still did not back down, you still did not avert your gaze.

Slowly, Jesse smiled, his eyes lighting up as he realised you'd read it all, as he realised you weren't going anywhere. He finally broke the eye contact, looking down at your hand as he brought your fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. That grin was infuriating. "Briallen-"

"Don't," you whispered, gritting your teeth because you were in trouble, and lots of it.

Understanding, he nodded, letting you pull your hand away, even though you really didn't want to. "Let's go save your friend," he said, gesturing towards the van. "Winston will brief us on the way."

Gibson was locked in a dungeon with a time limit. His objective? Stall for as long as bloody possible. Make it hard for them to get the information they wanted, but make it look like he was trying his hardest to obtain it. In all reality, once he had broken through Overwatch's firewall, he could have all the information they wanted within mere minutes. But he wasn't about to hand it all over that easily.

He knew he had a friend on the other side of that firewall, the shy little firebrand he'd known for years. As much as Caelen and Iris fronted about being the most protective out of the group, Gibs knew better. There had always been something different about Briallen, something fierce and loyal hidden behind those charming honey and chocolate eyes, tucked away behind the stuttering and the nerves.

He'd only seen her in action once, at a convention. Poor little Sylvia had been separated from the group, which had caused a panic among them. They'd found her being harrassed by some arseholes, tugging at the frill of her costume and the tips of the fake ponytails she had in. While Caelen and Iris were seething and ready to call security, Briallen had only politely asked them to leave Syl alone. Of course, they didn't do that, and when they moved to continue harassing Syl, she had forcibly wrenched one back and away from her friend. Two punches were thrown. The first had come from the guy she'd moved, which missed. The second came from Briallen herself, and landed directly on the nose of her assailant and was followed by a sickening crunch. A fight almost broke out between them, thankfully security had arrived before anything else could happen, but she had been more than ready to do more than just break his nose. It was then that Gibson realised that she would fight tooth and nail to keep her friends safe.

He hoped he still counted as a friend after she'd gone away to join Overwatch. It was why he reached out specifically to her. It was a stroke of pure luck that he was able to find the holo screen she was on, and that she was online at the time as well. It looked like she'd been busy for a while, some agent stuck his head somewhere it didn't belong and nearly got blown to bits it seemed, and she was the one filing the paperwork. Somewhere in his mind he wondered if she was really happy with this, sitting in an office doing nothing but paperwork. That was a question that would have to wait until later.

The sound of heavy footfalls echoing through the empty hallway made him jump and he quickly shifted screens, going back to slowly decrypting the files he'd been tasked with gathering. The door to his dressing room dungeon swung open, and the sound of sobbing floated in from the main stage. He cringed, closing his eyes and pausing in his work. He'd seen the young woman when he was dragged in through the back, she had been tied tightly to a chair next to a man who seemed roughly around her age who had also been tied to his own chair. He knew they were being interrogated. As to what Arachnid thought they knew, he had no clue.

"How long do you intend on torturing them?" he asked, refusing to look up and meet the gaze of his visitor.

"Not long," the man replied.

There was a gunshot, followed quickly by loud wailing. Another gunshot, then nothing.

Gibson felt like he was going to be sick.

The man chuckled, cocking his head. "Well, I didn't lie, did I?"

"What do you want?" Gibs asked sharply, looking back to his holo screen to continue decrypting files. "The more you bother me, the less information you'll have. I don't have a huge time gap in which to do this in, you know."

"Ooh, getting cheeky are we?" the man asked, taking a few steps forward. "I like cheeky, 's more fun."

The impact came without warning, the searing pain sending Gibson reeling to the ground. It felt like he'd just been shot, but he knew better than that. Reaching up, he pressed his hand against the side of his head where he'd been hit, not at all really surprised that it came away somewhat sticky with blood. He groaned, moving to stand, only to find himself back on the floor, a boot pressing into his sternum. He tried to pry the foot off his chest, but the man was too heavy and was bearing down too much to be dislodged.

"Now, don't you get smart with me, boy," the man growled, grin feral as he leaned down forcing Gibson to look him in the eyes. There was a wildness in them that frightened him. If he wasn't careful, Gibs could die before Overwatch even thought about rescuing him.

Groaning in pain, he nodded slowly, still scrabbling at the boot which kept him pinned to the ground. "Okay," he managed, his head starting to pound sharply. "Okay, I'm sorry."

"That's better," the man said, shoving down hard with his foot before removing his weight from Gibson's body. "We've a new task for you, one more important than the last. Pays better, too." His thick accent hung heavily in the air like the smoke from a cigar. "The good doctor wants to know all she can about a certain someone. Her name's Briallen Marsh."

Gibson's blood went cold. "B-Briallen who now?"

The man scowled, taking a step forward as if to threaten another boot to the chest, but never followed through on the threat. "Marsh. Same little girl that offed ol' Roy Adams a few months back." His scowled curled up into a smile. "That name seems familiar to you."

Gibs pushed himself up slowly, shaking his head. "Er, what? No. No, no, no, no. I just- I had an aunt named Briallen. She's been dead for years now, so you could imagine my confusion-"

"Shut up. Get that girl's file, then finish up with the rest. Our patience is starting to run thin." With a sneer, the man slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Gibson alone in his mildewy prison.

Gibs let out a sigh and leaned back against the wall, cradling his head. He had no idea what the man had hit him with, it felt like it had been the butt of a pistol, but it could have easily been something else. Whatever it was, it had hurt like hell, and he wouldn't be surprised if he was concussed. 'They're looking for Briallen,' he thought, looking solemnly down at the floor. 'God, Bri, what did you do?'

He let himself sit there for a little bit, waiting for the pain to subside a bit so he could go back to work, now beginning to decrypt his friend's files. There was quite a bit, but no more than any of the small files he had found. That was until he found the files attached to hers, hidden away under a higher authorisation level than the rest of her information. These were not meant to be found by anyone who did not know about them, and they did not have her name on them either. 'Shit Bri. This is a lot… What have you gotten yourself into?'

It took about an hour after he'd been left to his own devices that he heard the first signs of hope outside the doorway. The signs came in the sounds of a struggle, the sharp clack of a gun skittering to the ground, a couple weak thumps against the wall, followed quickly by the heavy thump of a body hitting the ground.

"Houston, this is Prodigy. That makes number fifteen. Approaching the target's door now," came the familiar lilting voice. The doorknob rattled a bit as his saviour unlocked it, and the door swung open to reveal Briallen Marsh in the flesh. She was frowning, but only for a split second as she looked him up and down, obvious relief flowing through her. "Houston, this is Prodigy. I've located Spectacles, securing the target now," she said, grinning widely at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Spectacles?" Gibson asked, shaking his head as he grinned back at her, moving to wrap her in a hug. "Is that supposed to be some kind of joke? I don't even wear glasses anymore! Oh, come 'ere, love. It's bloody brilliant to see you again," he breathed, giving her a generous squeeze. The armor she was wearing pressed uncomfortably into his chest, but he didn't mind.

"Sorry," she said, giving him a lighthearted shrug. She held him almost as tightly, sniffling softly as though she were about to start crying. After a second, she pulled away and looked him up and down. "Let me take a look at you. Oh, Gibs," her voice softened and she reached up, ghosting her hand over his head trauma, taking in the state of his face, which was likely still sporting bruises and a black eye from a few days ago. "What did they do to you?"

"Nothing that won't heal," he said, shaking his head. He took his own time to examine her a bit. She looked different, that's for sure, what with her hair cut shorter and the bit of muscle she'd begun to put on. The armored uniform she was wearing definitely made her look like a badass. But there was something else different about her. It was hidden in her eyes and behind that gentle smile of hers, in the way she was trying not to bounce on her feet.

She was happy. Happier than she'd been before that run in with Arachnid. Happier than she'd been in a while. That was good.

His smile softened and he gestured to the comm stuck in her ear. "How long do we have? If we've got time I can siphon some of their intel onto a hard drive to take with us."

Her eyes widened and she punched him softly in the arm. It was harder than it'd been before she left, but he knew she hadn't meant it to be. "That's a brilliant idea! Houston, this is Prodigy, how long until enemy backup arrives?" she asked the air, listing her head to the side as he imagined her response came. Her gaze darkened a bit. "Copy. Bandit, Shadow, we're going to nick some info. We'll meet up with you in the north quadrant in ten." She turned back to him, nodding. "Do what you can, we don't have a lot of time, ten minutes tops."

Gibson nodded and jumped up, quickly going to work on the holo in front of him. It wasn't hard to completely erase the intel he'd copied from the Overwatch servers, which he found he no longer had access to. Nor was it very hard to begin copying as much data into the hard drive he'd installed in the holo a few days ago. What was a little difficult was how to breach a rather concerning topic with his friend.

"Briallen," he started, frowning as he watched files disappear in front of him. "Can I ask you something?"

Briallen had tucked herself behind the door frame, watching the hallway carefully. "Yeah, sure, we've got time. But, don't you need to be focusing?"

He grinned, shaking his head, his eyes glued to his own task. "I could do this in my sleep. It's about your files. Before you came in, I was given the task of copying your files over and, er, I found something weird. Have you ever heard of Organic Omnics?"

She audibly stiffened, shifting uncomfortably where she stood. "Yes." Her answer was short, clipped.

"Are you aware that you're-"

"I know," she interrupted. Once glance back at her revealed she was frowning deeply, squeezing the handle of her gun so hard her knuckles were turning white.

"How long?" he asked, concern causing a crease in his brows.

"About a month. Angela told me. I found the Morgan files and drew some connections."

He frowned, glancing back at her, meeting her gaze this time. "How are you handling it?"

She drew in a breath between her teeth, looking away and back out toward the hallway. "Well enough. It explains… well it doesn't explain a lot, especially not what I was doing in Frauenfeld, but it gives me some peace knowing I have a past." She was quiet for a moment. "Angela wants to reverse the process, put me on the roster, make me a hero."

Gibson raised an eyebrow. For a second, he couldn't see it, couldn't see Briallen running out into the line of fire, couldn't see her racing back into a burning building, couldn't see any of it. But then he realised, that was how she'd been all along. Give her the opportunity and she would have risked her life for someone else at the drop of a hat, no questions asked. Hell, she'd risked her life coming here to save him! Briallen had always been ready to risk it all for the good of the world, this would only make her stronger.

He chuckled a bit to himself. "Why haven't you done it yet?"

She shrugged, adjusting her stance. "I have some concerns… mainly vain ones. I only just started to regain my sense of identity, what if the process stripped that away from me again? What if it's not what I'm expecting? What if it turns me into a monster?"

Gibson took a second to think about it a bit more before he nodded. "I think you should do it."

"Really? Why?"

"Cuz you'd look bloody amazing in spandex," he teased, shooting a smile over at her, laughing when she rolled her eyes. "It's true! But, seriously, Bri, in my twenty-seven years of life, I've never once met a person who would better suit being a hero than you. I think you have all the makings of a young hero on the rise, this would just give you an extra boost."

He expected her to smile and blush shyly, to look for a reason he was wrong, to deflect the compliment like she always had. Briallen had never been one who was able to take compliments well. But instead of doing any of that, she smiled and lowered her head a bit.

"I'm flattered you think so, Gibs," she murmured, settling back into position. The movement made Gibson realise she'd been, quite literally, standing on her toes ever since he brought up Organic Omnics.

'She's not nearly as comfortable with it as she made herself seem is she?' he thought, turning back to his screen. He opted not to comment on it. "You've changed," he said softly.

Her head whipped around toward him and she frowned. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You're more confident now, and you're a lot happier than you were before. It makes me glad to see you're thriving where you are now. Just don't forget about us little people," he teased, beginning to finish up the transferring process.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "How could I ever forget you guys! You're my friends! It'd be hard to forget you anyways, having you on base. Winston wants you on his team."

Gibson's eyes widened. "Wait, really? He doesn't want to, like, strangle me with his big gorilla hands?"

Briallen laughed. "Of course not! He was actually really impressed that you were able to get past his intense security measures. So, let's hurry this up, yeah? He's dying to see you."