For the love of cheese, folks... review!!

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She shook her head and tried to force the distressing thoughts away. She wasn't going to magically come up with the easy answer that made everything happiness and light before getting out of the shower. It was time to stand up, sluice off, get dressed, and go eat breakfast. She turned off the water and grabbed a towel, stepping out of the stall. The thick weight of the cloth was luxurious, and she rubbed at her hair before tossing the towel around her shoulders. The feel of her hair on the nape of her neck, brushing lightly on the towel was odd to her, and she paused to run her fingers through the wet mass. She would cut it… but Knives liked it long.

She paused to work out a couple tangles, then shrugged. Already changing to suit his tastes. She frowned, then grinned. Easy enough to fix if she decided that she didn't like it long. Dressing quickly, she toweled her hair again, trying to work most of the moisture out. She finger combed it again, and made a mental note to get her hands on a brush of some sort. The end result had to be neater than what she could accomplish like this. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her hair slightly wavy with the moisture, and wrinkled her nose. Messy. Very messy.

She sat on the edge of the bed and fished out her last clean pair of socks. She hoped that Knives had some way of washing clothes on this ship, because the thought of wearing one of those funky little ship suits… well, she still had some dignity. She'd go about naked, first. She slipped the socks over her toes, then wiggled them en masse in their cotton coverings. Shoes seemed too much, too heavy for the day, too confining for her poor happy toes.

Laughing at herself a little, she stood. If worst came to worst, there was soap in the shower, and water. She'd cope with the laundry. Looking at the pile of dirty clothes that had appeared out of her bag and now littered the floor of her room, she shook her head. Messy pig. She kicked some stuff closer to the walls, making a bit of a path through the room, then nodded. Much better.

She left and made her way back to the room they had eaten in the night before, following her nose for much of it. Entering the room, she encountered a spread worthy of a banquet, not a breakfast. Pancakes heaped with strawberries, waffles and whipped cream, sausages and bacon and ham, eggs and omelets, a tossed fruit salad, toast of various flavors, butter, jam, something that looked suspiciously like grits, hash browns, and more. Her eyes widened as she took in the bounty, and her stomach rumbled appreciatively. Rubbing her hands together in anticipation, she looked around for a plate.

Knives held one in his hand, and grinned as she reached for it.

"Not so fast," he cautioned, pulling it out of her reach. "You have to pay, first."

"Pay?" she asked, mock-outraged. "Pay?" She stalked the two steps towards him, ending up only an inch away, body bristling with feigned indignation. Then she kissed him, deep and lingering, a meeting of lips and no more. When he leaned close, seeking more, she broke it off.

"I paid. Now let this woman eat!" she demanded, stepping back and holding her hands out for the plate. He sighed and set it down, then watched her turn and begin filling her plate.

"Aren't you eating, too?" she asked, throwing the words over her shoulder as she tried to ladle more fruit on the plate. The grapes kept trying to roll off, so she scowled at them. It didn't help.

"I don't really eat breakfast," he said.

"You will today, buster," she ordered. "You're going to need all the energy you can get."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" he asked quietly.

"Which one gets you eating?"

"A promise."

"Then a promise it is." She finished filling her plate, not so much because she felt that she had enough, but because there was no more room for food. She carefully walked her plate down a short stretch of the table, then sat down. Picking up a fork, she set to her food with a vengeance, applying herself vigorously to the important task of caloric intake.

Knives slid some waffles and bacon onto his plate, then walked behind Kiley. He set his plate down beside her, then went to his knees, his head ending up nearly flush with hers. He rested his forehead on the back of her head, then snaked his hands around her waist. She set down her fork and covered his hands with hers, leaning back into the embrace.

"Your hair smells good," he said simply.

"Smells like shampoo."

"Smells like you."

"Then I'm glad you think I smell good."

"You smell wonderful."

"Except for when I'm sweaty and dirty and smell icky."

"Hmm." He released her, steeping back, but dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head as he stood. "That was a fairly long shower," he commented as he crossed over to the other side of the table, seating himself across from her.

"It's been a bit since I felt clean. Nothing like walking through a desert to negatively affect ones dirt to skin ratio."

"I see." He picked up his coffee and sipped at it.

She nodded, chewing on a bite of pancakes and strawberries. "But I feel all better now."

"That's good." They sat and ate for a while, chewing in companionable silence, and Kiley let her mind wander, thinking over the possibility of having a morning like this one every day, for the rest of her life. Sure, it wasn't like she'd get fed like this every morning. And Ace would have to take her spot at the table eventually, but that would be just fine. It wasn't a bad thought. As a matter of fact, it felt pretty darn good.