Kiley awoke, warm and comfortable in Knives' arms. Her blanket had been thrown on top of them, almost covering them both. Her feet were cold, but she held herself still, unwilling to move lest she wake him and make this moment end. There was something about waking up in someone's arms that she could never get over, something wonderful and safe and precious. Nothing compared, nothing came close.

She loved the feel of bare flesh on flesh, soft skin meeting. She wanted to press closer to him, to meld her body against his. It was funny how she so adored being close to people, and yet had such a difficult time letting her guard down enough to experience that closeness. The irony never failed to amuse her. Sometimes she wondered if it was like that for everyone. Maybe it was common for people to keep themselves apart from others out of fear of pain. Maybe it was just her, but she rather thought not. There were too many lonely people out there for that to be the case.

Besides, she had long past worked beyond any feelings of being special. She wasn't alone in feeling pain, wasn't alone in feeling happy. She rationalized that on a planet of over twelve billion people, there were good odds that she was never superlative. Even on a planet of… however many people were on Gunsmoke, there had to be some that were better off than her, and worse off. But at the moment she did allow herself a brief feeling of being special. She was the only one out of all of them who got to wake up in Knives' arms.

She grinned, laughing at herself for the corny thought. Then she wondered why the happy thoughts always got labeled as corny. Was it in the nature of happiness to be so simple as to seem corny, or was it a superstitious downplaying of what made one happy? Was she so quick to demean her feelings because she was afraid that if she enjoyed herself someone would come and take away what brought her pleasure? She vaguely remembered something about the ancient Greeks, and their belief that the gods were jealous of the happiness of mortals, and, upon seeing it, stole it away.

That was a silly thought. But maybe true. Maybe she was afraid to be happy, afraid that as soon as she relaxed her guard enough to get close to someone that the gods would come and hurt her through the chinks in her mental armor. It had happened before, to her. She closed her eyes briefly in memory, memory of a dark place and evil words, then opened them, the dim light of the gym chasing the darkness in her mind away.

Damn all dreams, anyway. It was better to just make do with what you had, to take each day as it came. Dreams just caused trouble, gave people hope. And hope was the worst thing you could ever have. Hopes dashed killed more people then she ever did. It was so much better to never hope at all, but such a hard thing to do. She sighed.

"What's wrong?" came the soft voice from behind her.

"Good morning to you, too, Knives."

"Good morning, Kiley. Why did you sigh?"

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Hope. I hate hope."

"Oh." A long pause. "Why?" he prompted.

"Because every time I hope for something it never comes true. Or if it does, it's never what I really wanted."

"Oh. These are fairly deep thoughts to be having before coffee."

"I wake up thinking deep thoughts, then try to not dwell on them the rest of the day."

"I see."

"What do you wake up thinking?"

"Not much, normally. Today I woke up thinking how lucky I was to get to have you here in my arms. I didn't think, after yesterday, that you would even want to be around me."

"I like being around you when you aren't mad."

"Thank you."

"That's when you're trainable," she finished.

"You!" he batted at her arm playfully.

"Me," she agreed amicably. She paused a moment, then continued in a more serious vein. "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did yesterday. I've… I've just had a few too many shocks lately, and too little time to react to them. Seeing Shamra was just one too many. I mean, not seeing her, really. But what she represents… Ah, I'm not saying it well. It was just the last event in a long chain, and I just couldn't handle it anymore. It's been a bit of a difficult year for me."

"After what I saw last night, I am inclined to say that you downplay things a bit much. I'm sorry that I got so angry at you. It was… a betrayal, to me, but that does not excuse what I did to you."

She turned over in his arms, facing him. "You realized that you just apologized twice for the same offense?"

He looked at her seriously. "I did, didn't I? You are a bad influence on me. Next thing you know I'll forswear my vendetta and plant grapes."

She laughed. "Grapes?"

He nodded. "I've fancied viniculture for a good while now. The stocks of wine in the ship are running low, and there really is no substitute on this planet. And after all the humans are dead I'll need another hobby."

"There's lots of beer," she offered.

He gave her an offended look. "Beer is hardly a drink worthy of my trained palette."

"Snob."

"Plebian."

"Snooty bastard."

"Low class bitch."

"Racist."

"Vermin."

She kissed him.

When the kiss ended, and she had pulled back, he smiled at her. "I win."

"Did not."

"You ran out of insults."

"I never run out of insults. I just wanted to see if you would react in kind."

"Oh, was that your intention?"

"Mm-hmmmmmmmmmm," she said as he kissed her. Then she didn't say much of consequence for awhile.