Kirre disappeared into the changing room while he spread his jacket and shirt on the floor next to his boots to dry out a little. The burn on his shoulder wasn't deep, more like a shallow scrape than a gash, and it wasn't bleeding, so he did his best to ignore it.
He was tinkering with the enviro-suit when she reappeared, looking drier and a lot less bedraggled, and carrying her armor. Her hair was down, and she'd slicked it straight back out of her face, although it was starting to curl at the ends as it dried around her shoulders.
"It's working, but there's only a half charge on the battery and the comm unit is pretty beat up," he said, looking up and trying not to notice the way her wet shirt clung to her body when she bent over to set her armor on the floor next to his jacket. "It should be enough for a quick trip to reset the generator and back."
He hoped, anyway. If the suit had seen a lot of use, the charge might not hold as long as he thought it would - but that was the hand they'd been dealt, and he intended to make the most of it.
"Yes," she agreed, and started towards it. "I'm better at computers, and I'm smaller, so I use less air. I'll go."
"Whoa, sweetheart," he said, holding up a hand. "If you think I'm letting you go out there while I sit around doing nothing, you've got another think coming."
She looked like she was about to argue, and then sagged, looking defeated.
"I don't think I can face going out there anyway," she said, looking suddenly weary, and sat down on the med slab. He climbed to his feet and padded over, stopping a few feet away.
Her face was drawn and pinched, her eyes tired, and it occurred to him that he hadn't seen her sleep for more than a half hour at a stretch since they left Kashyyk.
"Neither one of us has to," he said abruptly. "With his skills, Jolee will be able to get those doors open and come get us. We just have to wait."
He'd let her fall asleep first, and then she wouldn't have to argue. He owed her that much for Taris.
She smiled, suddenly, one of those wry, lopsided smiles that seemed to go right under his skin. "Sounds good to me." She slid over a little, making room on the med-slab. He hesitated.
"I don't bite," she said, looking up at him through long, dark lashes, her eyes veiled. He'd never seen her with her hair down before, he realized. She always had it pulled back in a tight, severe bun, a style that highlighted the sharpness of her cheekbones and chin. He liked it this way- it made her look softer, more approachable.
"You could have fooled me," he said half-jokingly, but she didn't respond with her usual tart retort. The lack of hostility was starting to worry him. He sat down next to her on the slab, careful not to touch her.
"At least we still have light," she said, apparently not noticing his reluctance as she glanced around, rubbing her hands over her bare arms. As if in response to her words, the lights flickered and then dimmed to emergency level.
Kirre sighed, a long, almost soundless exhalation that seemed to slice through the near darkness. It was starting to get cold in here, and without power it was only going to get colder.
Carth hesitated, and then picked up the blanket, draping it over her shoulders with what he hoped was workmanlike efficiency.
"Whoa, pal," she said, and he started to groan. What could she possibly find to argue about now? "If you think I'm going to huddle under this blanket while you freeze to death, you've got another think coming."
His jaw dropped slightly. "Did you just crack a joke?" he asked, needing the confirmation, and she scowled, although her eyes were light.
It reminded him, oddly enough, of when they'd first worked together on Taris. She had been open, fiery, ready to dive into trouble for the sake of an innocent or tell him off if he deserved it.
Since the incident on Kashyyk, she had been quieter, as if she were evaluating every word, every expression, before allowing herself to use it.
"No, I am utterly serious," she said, one corner of her full mouth twitching slightly, and offered him a corner of the blanket.
He nodded, then awkwardly settled down next to her on the slab. It took them a few minutes of shifting to determine that the blanket just wasn't big enough for the both of them.
Carth took a deep breath and let it out silently. He could be the better man about this, he told himself, and slid back towards the head of the slab, propping the foam pillow up as a barrier against the metal wall.
It was Kirre's turn to hesitate, and then she scooted backwards, settling between his legs and draping the blanket over both of them.
She fit just as neatly as he'd thought she would, the top of her head resting easily just under his chin. Even after being dunked in the ocean her hair smelled sweet.
He sternly reminded himself that she didn't trust him and, more importantly, that he didn't trust her. And he didn't like her much, either. He was pretty certain of it.
Her shivers quickly stopped as the heat between them warmed the blanket. He hesitated again. "You don't like the water," he said, and could have kicked himself. Nice and subtle, Onasi, he scolded himself, and waited for the biting retort he figured he deserved.
She didn't say anything for a moment, then nodded, the movement brushing the tips of her hair against the bare skin of his chest. He silently gritted his teeth and waited patiently for her to speak if she would.
"I have this dream, or maybe - maybe it's a memory," she said at last. She paused for a moment, as if expecting a smart remark, and he winced inside. He hadn't been that hard on her, had he? It was just that she was so young, and so ready to help, even people who would just take advantage of the chance to kick her in the teeth.
"I guess I must have been a kid," she said, a half-smile creeping into her voice. "I keep seeing this old quarry, the kind your parents tell you to stay away from, but you don't."
He somehow didn't have any trouble picturing her as a brash ten year old, her dark red hair in braids and her green eyes filled with mischief instead of sorrow.
"In my dream, the water is so dark," she said quietly. "I can't breathe, and I can't see, and I know there is something waiting for me at the bottom - something evil and ancient, and it wants to devour me - but I can't see it."
He couldn't see her face, but he felt the shudder that ran through her. She was so self-contained, wound so tightly that he half-feared that if he touched her she would shatter. And, he admitted to himself at last, he wanted to touch her. He tried to banish the thought and the guilt that accompanied it.
She twisted around in his arms, and he brought them up around her to steady them both. Her face was only a few inches from his, and her eyes were clear and dark, haunted by something only she could see.
"I can still feel it, waiting for me out there in the dark," she said, her voice strained, and he wanted to promise that he wouldn't let it have her, and that everything would be all right.
The look in her eyes changed, subtly, and he knew, as clearly as if she'd spoken, what she was thinking.
It had been four years since he'd held his wife while she died, four years of guilt, four years of denying that he was still human. She was so close, right now. He told himself that it was just a physical thing, that he could find comfort and release in her arms and walk away in the morning.
If there was a morning.
He shut his eyes, shutting her out. She deserved better than a last fling with a man like him, he thought miserably, knowing that as soon as she slept, he was going out into the darkness. To his surprise, soft lips pressed against his.
He fought not to react, but it was a losing battle.
She was so strong and tough, and yet brave enough to show her heart when it mattered. Her compassion was endless, yet she'd never forced it on him. She'd saved his life and offered him her friendship, and hadn't asked for anything in return, not even his trust.
He'd been fighting her subtle invasion of his soul since Taris, and he just couldn't continue fighting a battle he didn't want to win anymore. He opened his eyes.
She drew back, looking uncertain, her eyes bright. "I'm sorry," she started, obviously fumbling for words, "You looked so-"
He smiled slowly, wolfishly down at her. "You win," he said, and gathered her into his arms again for a passionate kiss.