(Weeeell, guess what? Another chapter? Yaaay! But be warned: If you don't like emotional, romancey scenes, go ahead. Skip the whole dang thing.)

XV: Destiny, Or Not

Footsteps. "Lady?" A man's face peered through the door connecting the command room with the rest of the ship; when she didn't respond, he walked, akwardly, over and tapped her on the shoulder—suddenly apprehensive.

Samus didn't turn.

"Am I interrupting something important?" Adam's gaze slid over the quietly revolving figure on the monitor screen …Chozo? How had she found this image? As far as he knew, the Chozo stored their information and research on their own supercomputers, and those had never been accessed—or even proved to exist—since the extinction of the species. One of the reasons that the bounty hunter's obsessive search had never pulled up more than fragments of anything.

But then, it had been four years since he'd had contact with the outside world. Two since he'd even woken up.

The awful thing was that he remembered it all: remembered supervising space pirates, taking orders from a dragon he called Master. He remembered, now, the dreams that had plagued his sleep—the only time the device was really turned off—the frustration of waking and knowing that he was missing something. He remembered thinking of the plan, making up information about a man called Adam Malkovich to put into a fake computer, all utilizing wisdom he'd had without remembering the experiences that he'd learned it from. It was all like a dream. Like a nightmare.

And then there was Samus.

That little figure on the viewscreen that he'd known—that something other than his brain had known. That didn't stop him trying to kill her when the Master told him to, though, did it? He'd tried so hard to remember—couldn't, until she'd figured it out—and by then he thought, for the second time, that it was too late.

A hair's breadth, he thought. A hair's breadth from dying, for the second time. It was like there was something that wanted him alive—some purpose that kept him here. Perhaps it was fate. Although, the second time at least, Samus had saved him. Why? Why would Ridley use him, Adam Malkovich, as bait—for her?

It worked, Adam thought. Whatever Ridley's reasoning, it worked.

It was a while before she answered, without turning. "What?" There was something in her voice that turned his stomach, not because it was her voice, but because it…wasn't. Not in his experience, anyway. Samus had been furiously loud before; he'd seen her wickedly ironic, and even icy blank. But not—not this. Whatever it was.

"Lady, I…" he trailed off, almost forgetting what he'd come out to tell her; strange, because he'd never talked to her—really—about anything other than The Next Mission. Adam swallowed, pusing all his anxiety down into a place he couldn't feel it, couldn't let it bother him. He was, once again, the businesslike, confident CO, the one in control.

He could pretend well enough, anyway.

"Thank you. For saving me. And…I'm just sorry…for everything."

Samus took a slow breath, staring at the viewscreen. If he hadn't known better, Adam would've sworn she was hynotized by the image. "It's not your fault," she said. "Ridley made the plan. Stupid federation…stupid Arastrough.."

"It's not the federation's fault either," Adam said immediately; then, as what she'd just said penetrated his brain, "What did you say? Arastrough?"

"Uh-huh…" She seemed preoccupied, her voice…wavery. Something different.

"I knew him. We were in the federation police together," Adam told her, as if it mattered. "He was always greedy…acted nice to your face, but behind your back…they changed him to space pirate research later. He didn't have enough imagination for much more than gathering information."

Samus sniffed. "Sounds exactly like him," she said, in that strange voice again. Adam walked forward, concern overcoming his nerves for the moment. Samus Aran, the bounty hunter…

She turned away, but not quick enough for him to miss the tears rolling silently down her cheeks.

"Lady…"

"I know, I know," Samus said miserably. Why did he have to come back now—now, of all times? "I'm ok…just too…really, I'm fine…"

"It doesn't look like it." Adam stepped around her, trying to see her face, Samus guessed. He was probably laughing at her. What she'd always been afraid of.

Bounty hunters aren't afraid…

Samus whirled to face him, sucking in an anguished breath. "I know what you're thinking," she cried. "I know! Bounty hunters aren't supposed to cry, are they? They're supposed to be tough, supposed to be cool, disconnected…fake." She spat the word out with venom, not knowing how else to feel. Anger—it had always been her refuge. "Well guess what? We're humans, too, you know! We have feelings, we have lives…try to, anyway…"

It was just too much. Everything at once, this crazy rollercoaster of emotion. All she wanted to do was somehow be transported to somewhere else, somewhere she could be alone; other people made everything so…complicated. If this was what if felt like to be normal—to have normal relationships—it was no wonder so many of the populace went insane.

And what was to say, Samus reasoned, burying her head in her hands, the sobs now coming uncontrollably, that this wasn't insane? She was dimly aware of the fact that Adam was staring at her. Let him stare, she thought. See who I am—a crazy woman who just doesn't know what she wants.

"Samus…" he said, very softly. She looked up, and his eyes caught hers, just as inescapably as if he'd pinned her down with two tons of grey steel. "It's ok. You don't have to be…anyone, or anything, but yourself…if you don't want to. I…I don't mind." Stepping forward, he brushed the tears from her cheek with one gentle hand, hesitated for a moment, leaned in and kissed her.

It seemed like a long time before anyone said anything. His hand was still resting on her jawbone when she pulled back, different emotions warring for control of her face.

Adam was petrified. What…what if…

He'd just kissed possibly the most feared bounty hunter in the universe.

Drawing back, as if she'd try to kill him at any moment—he knew she was capable of it—he sputtered, "…Lady, I…sorry…"

"Me, too," Samus said, once more looking at the ground. "I suppose you weren't laughing at me then…"

"Never, Lady. Samus."

She was starting to cry again. It made him wonder—just how much did this bounty hunter hide from the rest of the world? Did she think she didn't need anyone but herself, then?

"L—Samus," he offered, tentatively, and she sniffed and looked up. "Isn't it hard…sometimes…to, if I may use the expression, cry on your own shoulder?"

A shrug. Well, at least she hadn't exploded again, yet. Yet being the key word.

"Look," he said, trying to form the idea that had been growing in his mind into words, "I know you have a job. So do I, for that matter…or rather did…but does that have to be your life? We have duties to others, yes. One reason we—especially you—have so little time of our own. I know you can't give up on something like that, because, ultimately, if you don't do it, who will? Possibly nobody. But at the same time, you can't live for killing, or for computing, or for doing the government's bidding. At least not all the time. I think…you've got to have yourself, too."

Samus breathed in deeply a few times, raised her head, and looked at him straight, without faltering. This was the Samus he knew—strong. Resolute. Brave. "The Chozo ghosts," she said, wonder in her voice, "maybe that was what they meant…" She blinked, then, smiling in a watery way, the Huntress walked over to Adam Malkovich and buried her face in his shoulder, trying not to laugh through her tears. They just stood there, holding each other, ingnoring everything. The world. The catastrophe that had just been averted. The fact that the federation would be demanding an explanation for why its friend Yeldir was gone. That the'enemy' CO was still alive. And, of course, Samus Aran had NOT been captured, contrary to populary belief.

It didn't matter.

In a quiet reality further away than any ship could fly, a group of birdlike creatures clustered around a single, glowing sphere of light that one of them, apparently in a trance, held in its outstretched clawed hands. They were watching a strange almost-human drama that playing itself out, billions of thoughts away.

The one holding the sphere stirred; the shimmering globe dissolved as it shook itself, large avian eyes blinking open. It looked around at its fellows, gathered about it, and smiled, satisfied.

Hatchling, the Chozo voices whispered.

(WOOHOO! I cannot believe I just wrote that…

this is sort of my pet chapter, because actually, I haven't ever tried a romantic scene of this caliber before. so speaking big puppy eyes if it sucked, please inform the author, aka ME, through a review.

And for those of the above opinion, you have my promise that this is the last of these stupid romancey chapters. The next chapter will probably be the last, so… NO MORE ICKY! Hehehe…

…oooooooook, that was random. Until next chapter, then…buh-bye:D ¡AA-M! )