Leonid

Crossing the Line

13:57, November 22, 2065

"How you doin'?"

A simple question with so many answers… so many correct, honest ones.

"Good," and acknowledged with a lie.

"Good…" he echoed, "Me too."

He was smiling again. She used to like that – it was something she could recognize, know, and mimic; it made her feel a little of the pleasant world she knew existed, but somehow couldn't access alone.

"Neil…" apologies were never so hard, even though she knew what she was trying for. She wondered if he understood or would even care if she didn't. He seemed to have put the past in the past, so why couldn't she?

"What?"

"I'm glad."

"Okay," He grinned, a mite confused; but she had definitely sounded cute. And it was… it sounded like good confession.

Tell him now, she willed of her tongue. Spontaneous had always been strength, now all she needed to do was blurt – one clue, one lead so she wouldn't feel so alone again. He's smart, he could guess, tell him now.

It didn't come, and she studied her hands.

Neil tapped her shoulder, earning a metallically plastic plink off her armor, but not her attention. He pushed her a little, and secured no definite response. He tried a little harder, which resulted in sudden and a full-scale pushing competition between them lasting until Jane slipped off the bench. She huffed, staring above as Neil clambered down beside her.

"Sorry, I didn-"

He stalled as the transport shuddered under abrupt turbulence, and hissed in pain as his head struck the metal edge of the bench.

"You deserved that," Jane winced in sympathy, but couldn't bother herself to move.

"Yeah, I know I did…"

---

14:13, Nov. 22, 2065

"Does she know what she wants, yet?" Gray shrugged into his shirt, pleased to off the field. The mission had gone well, but Jane's had to run off and worry him like that.

"I don't think she's even accepted it completely," his friend answered, collecting his bits and pieces of armor and carefully laying them in their place in his locker, "Give it a little time."

Gray followed suit with his equipment, "I'll talk to her."

"I thought you already did."

"Yeah, well," the captain yawned, holding his hand over his mouth, "I'll try again,"

"I'd be careful if I were you. She's not warming up to the idea very fast."

Ryan's glanced to where the pair were, and chuckled as he witnessed Jane trying to get dressed while Neil was determined to 'help.'

Jane scowled as Neil buttoned up her pants. She'd managed to get her shirts done by herself, but she lost the battle of the pants. She'd told him before, even demonstrated, but he never seemed to understand,

"I can dress myself, you know."

"Yeah, I know," the tech replied simply, pulling her boots from under the bench.

"Then why're you…?" she sighed, giving up, "Give me one of those."

"Because I like to," He complied, handing her the left boot. She slid it on and lifted her foot unto the seat as Neil worked with the other boot on the floor. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she buckled the straps.

"Why do I suddenly get the feeling you owned dolls when you were a kid?"

The man shrugged, and he neither confirmed nor denied the question.

"You… didn't; did you?"

She didn't get an answer, as Gray strolled past them with the cheerful announcement,

"Decontamination's ready for us."

---

20:18, Nov. 22, 2065

The Lounge was under its full capacity, but that didn't dissuade a plentiful crowd from engaging in its sport. The majority of them crowded around the battle circles, while a few engaged in other activities, or sat alone.

Gray's group sat on the edge of the crowd. Close enough to easily observe the fights, but far enough away to be comfortable in their own company.

Gray kept to himself, keeping half an ear on his friends and the rest of his attention on the data-readout in front of him. Ryan and Jane watched the fights with rapt attention, and slight dejection as one ring, containing two excellent combatants, was vacated under a mutual refrain.

"Too bad," the sergeant sighed, but smiled at Jane, "You wanna go?"

"Yeah," the woman chirped, rousing Neil from her shoulder. He blinked, and drowsily rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand as he was redistributed to his own balance.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Gray asked, breaking from his reverie, but in vain. They were already on their way.

"I'll be gentle," Ryan called over his shoulder; Jane only laughed.

Over the hour, they fought four times before Ryan gave in for the evening. Jane might have followed him back, but she was enjoying the activity far too much. It was feeling – and the free release of feeling. Pent up anger and frustration, held in so long it hurt, started to dissipate as match after match, eventually measured in hours, went by. Fatigue was nothing; it only added an extra level to the release.

The onlookers discerned there was a difference here than normal – Jane wasn't a stranger here – but they weren't interested in interfering. It was only entertainment, after all; no one was hurt seriously.

And the fights were extraordinary; each was becoming shorter, and more intense than the last.

"She's going to kill somebody before she stops," fully awake now, Neil glanced sidelong at Ryan. The nonchalance of the statement struck against how true it seemed, and it worried him. Gray, on inspection, watched indifferently. Every minute that went by heightened his awareness of the fact that either Jane would take a life, or eventually collapse from absolute exhaustion.

He didn't like either conclusion, but neither of the others seemed interested in anything but watching. So, if they were to not do anything at all, he would have to do something on his own.

Neil slipped away from the table, intent on not being seen. It worked until it didn't matter, as Gray caught sight of him beyond reach in the crowd.

"Oh God, what's he doing now?" Gray drawled, and Ryan only shrugged.

"You should have asked that before he left." Still, despite the flippancy, the pair exchanged a discreet glance before simultaneously moving closer to the circle.

Meanwhile, Neil had already reached the makeshift arena. He stepped over the narrow white line almost without heed of it, and certainly without reservation. It was a thin layer of pain on cement, nothing to intimidate.

Jane's smile faltered as she become aware of him.

"Hey; You look… hot," her skin had taken on a reddish hue from exertion, oxygen, natural body temperature and the heat from the lights above. Sweat clung to her skin sporadically, concentrated in small droplets not yet heavy enough to fall to the already speckled floor. Alike to a small child, scared that its parents would take away its favorite plaything, she stared at him in with suspicion. "Why not give it a rest for now, huh?"

"No," a guttural response. For a brief moment, he somehow thought she'd said, "Yes."

"Why not?" he stood close, and she closed her eyes when he touched her arm. He kissed her, ignoring the people around them – right now, they didn't exist, as far as he was concerned – and watching… willing for any response. A lone bead of moisture slid down her cheek, and for a moment he confused the perspiration for a tear. He shook off the fleeting alarm fast enough to be pushed away without losing balance.

"I'm having fun," she stated, almost daring him to take it from her.

"You're ah… still mad at me," the idea dawned on him… accompanied by a sinking feeling, "Aren't you?"

"Yes," half-true – that she was mad again would have been more appropriate, but here it didn't matter what he thought.

"Oh," he hurriedly stifled his disappointment.

He stepped back, glancing down at the edge of the ring, and then at the remainder of the spectators. Some were confused, some were amused, and some were in on the circumstance. He paid them little attention, focusing on the plan forming in his mind. If she was angry, then maybe, and he reminded himself with cautious confidence that it was only a maybe, would he be able to provide a little relief for it.

"All right," he smiled, letting the giddy feeling take over his mind as he faced her. Two more little words were all he needed, and they were almost as easy to voice as the last…

"Let's go."