My apologies for having taken so long to continue this story. I had to unexpectedly take some time away from it and am just barely getting back to it in time for the last day of pride month. This was intended to be the final part of the pride month special, but there is at least one more part necessary to conclude the story. The regular story is currently scheduled to resume in chapter 39.

In looking at the one song in this chapter, you might understandably be wondering if I have any shame. I do not.

1. "We Fell in Love in October" by Girl in Red

It was several hours after leaving her meeting that Angela found herself standing in front of the door to Fareeha's hotel room, a small suitcase in one hand and a garment bag held aloft in the other. They'd parted ways to prepare for the evening with Angela's insisting that Fareeha find something other than her dress uniform to wear. Fareeha had made a valiant effort to make a strong case for the comfort, functionality and social versatility of Helix Securities uniforms, but she had given up on it with a sigh halfway through when she saw Angela's pouting and realized that it was falling on deaf ears. Though Angela couldn't help smiling when Fareeha finally relented, something in her expression had left Angela suddenly feeling heavy with guilt. Racing for a compromise, she promised that she would go back to her hotel room, get some things for herself and then meet with Fareeha, helping her put something together as she got dressed herself. Fareeha hardly looked entirely pleased, but the suggestion seemed to bring her some measure of relief.

Placing her suitcase on the floor and knocking on the door, Angela wondered for what was no less than the tenth time why she'd been so forceful in insisting in the first place. It was true that in all of the time they'd known each other, she'd never seen Fareeha in anything that wasn't somehow related to her work. In fact, seeing her in her dress uniform earlier in the day was the first time that Angela had seen her in anything that wasn't specifically designed for combat. Even in the few existing photographs of her, Fareeha seemed to never let herself be seen out of uniform. Her professionalism was without fault and, while admirable, it was also frustrating that this seemed to bleed over onto every facet of her life.

No matter how many times Angela thought of it, she could only come to the same confusing conclusion: She wanted to see Fareeha when she was comfortable. Though Fareeha clearly had no issues with comfort when wearing a uniform, there was something about it that Angela could only think of as cold and impersonal. What was Fareeha like when she was at home? It was difficult for Angela to imagine her not being on duty, and it apparently wasn't only her as Fareeha was only on leave because she was under orders to do something other than work for a couple of weeks. Still, it was just as difficult to imagine that there was no part of Fareeha's life that wasn't on duty. For some reason, Angela was desperate to see even the smallest part of it.

Angela's musing was interrupted as she heard the door locks turning. The door slowly opened and warm, humid air carried the faint scent of soap to Angela's nose as she saw Fareeha standing in the doorway and looking thoroughly frustrated. She'd apparently had time to shower and change. Her black hair was still damp and sticking out in every direction, seemingly having suffered some abuse from the towel still draped around her neck. Simple dark blue jeans and a white tank top with a thin black trim held close to her body, something that Angela spent more time noticing than she'd intended. When her eyes finally met Fareeha's, she realized that she had no idea how long she'd been standing there in silence.

"I—I...that is...you seem to have already found something."

Fareeha, who had gone from looking frustrated to confused, seemed to be taking her time processing the situation, herself. She went from looking at Angela to looking down at herself. "What, this? No, I just put this on while I was trying to figure out what I should wear."

Angela bent down to pick up her suitcase and slowly walked through the doorway as Fareeha stepped back to let her in. Even as she was making a resolution to pay more attention to what was going on around her for fear that Fareeha's curiosity would eventually get the better of her, Angela's focus quickly slipped away from her as she took in the sight of the hotel room. It couldn't have been more clear to her in that moment that she and Fareeha were very different people; as if specifically chosen to contrast with her own lavish suite, Fareeha had chosen what was the simplest room that Angela had ever seen.

The decorations weren't unpleasant, but they were minimal at best. A bed, the nightstand next to it, a table with two chairs and a television set into the wall above a short dresser were the extent of the furnishings. The dark green carpet that would've looked more in place in an office building than a bedroom and the floral print on the curtains and comforter were as much color as the room had beyond the wood of the furniture and the light cream color of the walls. It wasn't the kind of room that Angela would have expected someone to choose as a result of a preference. She briefly wondered if Fareeha had been ordered to rent that specific room, as well. It was the first time she was seeing Fareeha's preference for anything other than munitions, however, and realizing that seemed to make the whole room brighter.

"Angela?"

Jumping at the sound of her name, Angela quickly turned toward Fareeha, who was now staring down more at the floor than her clothes and looking slightly embarrassed. Realizing that she'd again fallen silent and fearful of how many of her thoughts Fareeha had guessed at, she again forced her mind into gear as she raced for the words to respond.

"Sorry, love. I am getting used to this."

Fareeha's eyes lifted to meet Angela's, her expression shifting back to confusion. "Getting used to what?"

Angela smiled, unable to contain the entirety of her thoughts as she carefully placed her garment bag on the bed and set her suitcase on the floor. "I just...well...before this trip, I have never seen you anywhere other than a commander's tent, a commander's office or...well...that is about it, I suppose. This is new. I...like it."

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, a smile briefly took shape on Fareeha's face. Forcing it back into a neutral position, she returned to assaulting her hair with her towel. "It's just a hotel room. I don't really understand, but I'm happy that you're happy. Not that I have time to figure it out...I have clothes to worry about."

Hearing the choice of words caused Angela to repress the urge to flinch as she realized that there was apparently more to the matter of clothes than she realized. Feeling concerned, she stepped toward Fareeha and gently took the towel from her hands.

"Careful, love...you will tear your hair out. You dry it as if you are angry with it."

Fareeha laughed softly at the thought as Angela took her hand and led her to the bed. Taking her cue, she took a seat on the edge of the mattress as Angela lifted her suitcase to the bed and opened it. "It can't be helped. It won't behave, and I don't usually have time to convince it to cooperate."

Rummaging through the suitcase, Angela produced a silver brush with stiff bristles before taking a seat behind Fareeha. She searched for a dry spot on the towel and began gently patting Fareeha's hair. "Well, you are on holiday for the moment, so you can take all of the time you need. Allow me."

Fareeha went silent for a noticeably long time as Angela delicately ran the towel through her hair, running her fingers through it to separate it into sections before carefully stroking it from root to tip. Just as Angela became curious about why she was so quiet, Fareeha suddenly spoke up as if she'd suddenly been startled out of her thoughts.

"Y—you may be right. Holiday, I mean. Being on leave isn't part of my skill set."

Angela chuckled as she separated another section of Fareeha's hair to dry it, distracted only briefly as she questioned her eyes. It looked almost as if Fareeha had just shivered. "Why do you work so much, anyway? I do not think I have ever come across anyone else so averse to taking personal time that they had to be ordered. To be honest, I was considering doing it myself for a while."

Fareeha laughed softly. "How do you have any authority to order a Helix operative?"

Angela shrugged as she rubbed a section of Fareeha's hair between her hands. "Since when has that ever stopped me?"

Apparently unable to come up with a counterargument, Fareeha laughed loudly. "I can't believe I almost forgot. I guess I could use the practice. I have no idea how to go about it. What are you supposed to do all day?"

Suddenly feeling excited, Angela forced herself to maintain her composure as she realized that she could finally address both of their concerns at once. "Whatever you want, love. That is the point of going on holiday. What do you want to do all day?"

Fareeha was again silent for a moment before responding. "I...have no idea. I've never thought about it."

"Never?"

Fareeha shook her head. "If it doesn't come as part of an order, I don't generally give it much thought."

"But...how can you make the entirety of your life about following orders? Is that what you like doing?"

Angela was surprised to hear a dark chuckle come in response. "Are you kidding? Following orders from the idiots I have to report to? Have you ever read some of these memos? It's like someone's hitting an auto correct suggestion button for five minutes and then signing off on whatever comes out. Orders are just a means to an end."

After a quiet moment of considering what Fareeha was saying, Angela was certain that she was missing something. Finally satisfied that Fareeha's hair was dry, she put the towel down and picked up the brush. "If orders are the means, then what is the end?"

"Saving lives. Protecting people. Ending the fighting...even if it's through superior fighting. The orders might be...well, stupid...but they're trying to accomplish the same thing I am, so following them gets the job done. As long as you don't take them too seriously, at least. We can't make progress if we're not working, though."

Angela's hand stopped the brush midway through a stroke through Fareeha's hair. "So, if you are here on holiday..."

"Then who's stopping raids on defenseless villages?"

Angela's insides went cold as she struggled for the right words. "You are not the only one that has to shoulder this burden. There are others to fight in your absence. Saleh is protecting those people as we speak."

"But who's protecting Saleh?"

Several arguments were taking shape in Angela's mind but, hearing a question that she couldn't adequately answer, all of them faded away before they could find her voice. She wrapped her arms around Fareeha's waist and held her close, hoping against hope that her feelings would somehow come through even after words failed her. Feeling Fareeha's carbon fiber fingertips come to rest on her hand, Angela felt both relieved and inspired to continue.

"You can only do so much. Protecting people is important, but so are you. You need time to rest, recover and be happy doing something other than working yourself to death. Literally, if you are not careful. I would not normally admit it, but...well, Saleh is good at what he does. He will manage just fine for a couple of weeks. He is not alone...and neither are you. I will see to it."

She couldn't see Fareeha's face to gauge her reaction in her silence, but a heavy sigh and a gentle squeeze of her hand let her know that the message had been received. Taking advantage of the peaceful moment, Angela decided to shift the mood to a more cheerful tone as she went back to running the brush through Fareeha's hair.

"I see that you were not joking about your hair. How do you get it to behave?"

"An overwhelming show of force."

Angela laughed softly, though it occurred to her that Fareeha might not have been joking. She'd only brought a single suitcase for the entirety of their stay, and it seemed unlikely that she'd sacrificed any of that space for the sake of hairspray or pomade. "It is a good thing I arrived when I did. I will do my best to broker a peace treaty between the two of you."

Fareeha chuckled, but it cut off suddenly. "And...my clothes?"

It wasn't until that moment that Angela realized that Fareeha seemed to still be concerned about the matter and remembered that she'd said that she was still trying to work out what to do about her wardrobe. "What is wrong with what you are wearing now?"

Fareeha turned her head to give Angela a confused expression. "I can't go out like this, can I? I mean...well...what are you wearing?"

Feeling heat rush into her face, Angela turned Fareeha back around and went back to running the brush through her hair. "Do not worry about that. It has nothing to do with what you are wearing, and what you are wearing is fine as long as you are comfortable in it."

"You argued that hard just to see me in jeans and a tank top?"

"I argued that hard to see you in something other than a uniform. This is not a uniform. I am quite happy."

"It still seems...excessive."

Angela couldn't help laughing. "You think that something is excessive?"

Fareeha huffed, bringing more laughter from Angela. "Well, it seems that way. What do you have against uniforms? Didn't you say it looked fine this morning?"

"Yes, and it did."

"But...?"

"But what?"

Fareeha again turned to look at Angela out of the corner of her eye. "If you don't want me to wear it again, then there must be something about it that you don't like."

Angela opened her mouth to argue, but looking Fareeha in the eye made it clear that the moment she had been unconsciously fearing had finally come. Fareeha may have been willing to accommodate Angela's demands, but curiosity reasonably managed to eventually get the better of her and Angela couldn't deny that it was unfair to keep an explanation from her. She sighed as she resigned herself to admitting to her own thoughts.

"It is not that I dislike uniforms...or yours. I only...well...there is much that I do not know about you."

Angela hoped that her few words would somehow suffice, but Fareeha only looked more confused for having heard them. "What don't you know about me? As I recall, it wasn't until you'd learned about me that we got through an entire conversation without shouting at each other. You know everything important that there is to know about me, and you started learning about me before we even met."

Putting aside the sharp pain she suddenly felt in her chest when she was reminded of Ana, Angela struggled to organize her thoughts. "Well, yes, there is also much that I do know about you. Still, there is so much of your life that remains a mystery to me. What I know of you is mostly related to work. I know your serial number, I know how you lead squads and I know that your favorite round is 7.62x39mm—"

"9x19 Parabellum."

"Nine by...what?"

"7.62 comes up more often because there's still a few people out there using it, but I've always been more a fan of 9x19 Parabellum for its history. It's interesting how it became so popular so quickly and, contrary to common conception, its effectiveness is actually on par with—" Something about Angela's expression caused her to stop before quietly adding, "I guess that's not really the point."

Smiling, Angela again wrapped her arms around Fareeha and leaned against her back. "No, it is not. The point is that most of what I know about you has to do with only one part of your life. Memorizing your medical records and arguing over ideologies all comes back to your work. I would like to know more about you. I do not know much, and what little I do know I did not hear from you. I know that much of your life is your work, but there is more there. I do not know about what foods you like, your first kiss or your favorite song."

Fareeha gave a sigh that seemed slightly dejected. "To be honest, I'd have to think about it, myself. I can't remember the last time before the plane that I ate anything that wasn't vacuum sealed in foil, and I don't think I've ever been able to pick one song out of all of them as a favorite."

Feeling a sudden mechanical whirring in her chest, Angela felt her self-control slip away from her. "And...your first kiss?"

"It was...less than memorable."

She couldn't say why, but Angela couldn't help feeling relieved by the response. "I take it that it was unpleasant?"

"No. It was just a mistake."

Angela burned with curiosity, but the sudden shift in mood kept her from inquiring further. Instead, she turned her attention toward lightening the mood again. "Well, that is one question out of the way, at least. We will simply have to find many places to eat to answer another. As for your favorite song...hmm...perhaps a list of favorites would be better to ask after?"

Fareeha picked up her phone and flipped through lists of songs and thinking quietly for a moment before giving a frustrated sigh. "Sorry, but no. I can't imagine choosing any number of them if it meant definitively excluding others. I couldn't give up any of them."

Thinking about it, Angela found it difficult to imagine. She wasn't overly familiar with Fareeha's taste in music but, knowing that she had access to the entirety of Ana's collection and that she had a habit of picking up new songs herself, it was difficult to imagine being attached to all of them. She took Fareeha's phone from her hand "I have not seen your entire collection, but there must be thousands of songs in it. How do you choose something to listen to at any one time?"

Fareeha thought for a moment before shrugging. "It just depends on what I'm thinking about at the time, I guess."

"Oh...what were you listening to last, then?"

When Fareeha didn't respond, Angela's curiosity led her to press the play button to hear what had been playing most recently. (1) She was taken aback by how serene it sounded; given what she knew about Fareeha, she was expecting something decidedly more intense. Suddenly feeling desperate for this small glimpse into Fareeha's life now that it was within her grasp, she was so focused on the music that she barely noticed that Fareeha's body went rigid as it started playing. Only a few words had reached her ears before the phone suddenly went silent. When she looked down at the phone, she saw Fareeha's fingertip pressed to the screen, slightly trembling as it pressed so firmly that Angela was amazed the screen didn't crack.

"F—Fareeha? What is wrong?"

Fareeha only stared down at the phone, her expression twisted in a shape that was almost unrecognizable on her face. Angela sat up straight, alarmed as she recognized Fareeha's expression as something beyond fear. It was abject horror. Angela scrambled for words, hoping to get Fareeha to at least speak. Her reaction was confusing to the point of being unsettling, and she added no context other than that her entire face had suddenly turned a deep crimson.

"It was a nice song, really...I would like to hear more. What was it?"

Fareeha only shook her head as she took the phone back, her hand now visibly trembling. After a long silence, Angela thought carefully before cautiously proceeding.

"I...take it that it is something difficult to talk about?" When Fareeha nodded, Angela did her best to ease the tension by pretending to not be concerned as she returned to running the brush through Fareeha's hair. "In that case, tell me another time...if you feel ready."

Again Fareeha nodded silently, but she eventually managed to speak quietly. "Yes...one day. I promise."

The next several minutes passed quietly, the silence only broken by Angela when her concern got the better of her. As Fareeha was generally quiet unless there was something specific that she felt needed to be said, Angela worried that she was annoying her by constantly trying to make conversation. Fareeha seemed to appreciate it, however, and never missed an opportunity to respond when appropriate even though they largely only discussed where they could go to eat. As the conversation continued, Angela found herself welling up with elation and realized that, aside from the decision to come to New York, it was their first time making specific plans to spend time together. It occurred to her that her need to be aware of the intricacies of Fareeha's life wasn't only a matter of satisfying her curiosity. The more Fareeha talked about things that she liked the sound of, Angela's skin tingled even though it was just about food. She slowly realized that she liked hearing Fareeha talk about the future she saw for herself and, more than that, she was both pleased and relieved to be able to see herself being a part of it.

Angela finally stopped brushing Fareeha's hair, not because she'd finished as much as because she'd run out of excuses to continue. Looking out of the window and seeing how close the sun was coming to the horizon, she reluctantly admitted that it was time for her to get ready, herself. Giving Fareeha's hair one last glance, she reached out and plucked a long, blonde hair from it. She jumped up and turned toward her suitcase, her concern not on the time as much as keeping Fareeha to see the smile that she couldn't keep under control.

"Oh...are you done?"

Angela nodded as she rummaged through her suitcase for nothing in particular, pausing only for a second as she wondered if the odd tone to Fareeha's voice was disappointment. "It is getting late. I should get ready before we lose the entire evening."

Fareeha only nodded in agreement as she gazed at her reflection in a mirror on a far wall and unconsciously stroked her hair as a faint smile took shape. Grabbing her suitcase and carefully lifting her garment bag, Angela made her way to the bathroom, still hiding her face from view as her own smile finally slipped entirely out of her control. The sight of Fareeha as she smiled at herself in the mirror gave her the faint hope that, ultimately, she was the reason for that smile.