Frenchie and Christina were unloading the equipment on the table and counters, getting ready to work. Frenchie had decided to try concocting a weapon of Trans's same carbon material.

Unlocking another box, Tina paused, then smiled. Frenchie glanced at her and stilled as well. He watched her pull out his amber safety googles. She turned them over, tracing her thumb against his name etched into the frame.

She looked at him and beamed. "You kept them."

"Kept them?" he smirked. "I use them all the time." Tina's smiled widened, causing Frenchie's heart to skip a beat. She looked away and placed the birthday gift she'd gotten him nearly six years ago into the box once more.

Something nagged at Frenchie's chest, this need to know something, to gain permission to do something. There was a question he needed to ask her, but not now…When they were alone.

He couldn't help the memories though, of how they'd left things.

But those last few days were dark ones; he did not wish to delve back now, so he focused on their current task.

Sooner than later, they had an up-and-running lab.

Tina had pulled her hair up, Billy had taken off his coat, and Frenchie had put music on.

It was work time.

XXX

After almost an hour of Frenchie working, and Tina and Billy lending a hand when they could, it was ready.

Pushing back his goggles, Frenchie grabbed a pair of tongs, carefully tearing off a pitch-black, two-inch long bullet.

He holds it up, and smirks. "Rounds coated in the same carbon metamaterial as his skin."

Tina and Billy share an anxious look, though she was quite certain Butcher was more anxiously excited, to put the round to use.

"Will it work?" he asks after closely inspecting the bullet Frenchie had handed him.

"Je ne sais pas," replied the Frenchman.

The boys moved to Butcher's Serbu BFG-50A sniper rifle, loading it up. "Guys?" calls the timid voice of Hughie Campbell, who'd been trying to get his shit together upstairs.

His presence, Tina is far from comfortable with. Not just because she didn't know him, but because of who he was in general.

His hands were too clean to be in this kind of business.

"What are you doing?" his question was unheard as Billy cradled the rifle and made way to the cell.

Realizing what was happening, Hughie stormed forward. Tina quickly blocked his path, arm outstretched, but he seemed to barely acknowledge her existence as he meekly attempted to push against her (and failed), all the while screaming over Butcher: "Wait!" Frenchie opened the door for Billy. "No, no no!" Billy stepped in. "Wait, wait!"

A greatly alerted Trans panics as well. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he utters as Billy aims straight at him (despite not actually seeing the guy) and wasted not a second in taking a shot.

Boom!

It ricocheted off Trans, into the wall, causing everyone to jump or duck to safety. To the ceiling, then right into the wall next to Billy, the round fell flat and damaged onto the ground.

It didn't work.

"Ahahahahaa! You stupid, fucking asshole!" Trans shouted. "I'm invincible," to all of their distaste, he sounded too amused. "You stupid motherfuckers."

Irritably disappointed, Billy steps back out as Trans rants on. "I'm fucking Translucent! I'm indestructible!" Frenchie kicked the door shut on his voice. He was still heard, more muffled then. "It's only a matter of time before they come for me. You're fucking dead!"

Of course, that gets to everyone.

Tina sighed tiredly as Billy slammed the rifle down. She crossed her arms, watching him as he placed both hands flat on the table's surface, his back to them.

His fairly visible physical tension got to her more than she'd liked. It was trying to activate her muscle-memory, the urge to rush over and put a hand to his shoulder, tell him they'd find a way. She fought that urge, for reasons similar to Frenchie's reluctance at speaking his mind.

"Well, that was great guys…" Hughie, who was staring into the glass panel of the cell's door, spoke up after catching his breath. The mockery in his tone was less than appreciated. "That was awesome."

"Frenchie," interrupted Butcher. Frenchie looked to him. "Tina," Butcher made eye-contact with her as well. "Back later," he moved to step away.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

With his coat in hand, Billy abruptly turned, his face only inches from hers, causing her thoughts to momentarily falter.

'Shit' her mind thought. Shit at the fact that he still had that effect on her, that his hazel-green eyes could still make her heart skip beats like that.

"Got an idea. Long shot. Might help."

The fact that it took Billy a minute to speak up as well cranked up Frenchie's alarms.

There it was, part of the question he was trying to get the answer to.

He mentally noted he ought to, and soon.

"Now?" asked Hughie worriedly.

"Yeah," Billy nodded, shrugging on his coat. "Well, it's all under control here, isn't it?" he smirks, plastering back on that 'it's all good' face that Tina found she was too used to, even after so long. "Try not to bugger each other."

He faced Tina then, gave her an assuring nod, and turned to leave.

Not to Frenchie's surprise, she watched him go. It seemed he was getting his answer already.

XXXXX