This chapter takes place after Chapter 49 in SFTD.

What a year to be alive.

Eliza was currently sitting on one of the few unoccupied stools in the Bar, watching the party in front of her unfold. Technically, it was her birthday party, yes—but she'd expressed an interest to sit down and recharge before the cake that was being made was brought out. Her soldiers were thankfully understanding, happy to use the day as an excuse to drink and celebrate. People had been dragging in chairs to sit around the two foldable tables that had brought in, though quite a few of her men were happy to just stand and hang out.

That left Eliza at the bar proper, leaning against it with a soda in her hands. She felt plenty guilty that she'd fallen off the wagon a while ago, so even when Bradford offered to pour one out for old time's sake, she declined, with a promise to talk later about it. Bradford was a chronic worrywart, but he knew when to not kill the mood. He had taken his usual place behind the bar, keeping the glasses clean and handing out drinks to whoever asked.

Honestly, Eliza would've been plenty happy to people-watch her own soldiers had Bradford not spoken up, leaning on the counter behind her so he could talk normally and still be heard. "58th and the Chosen didn't show up?"

Eliza shrugged. "They were in the room when I decided to drop it on everyone. They knew."

"Still can't believe you kept quiet until the day of."

"I'd rather not have a surprise party." Eliza sighed. "Hard to say how half of us will react to getting startled nowadays. Plus, I didn't want anyone to worry about making or getting something for me. As for the Chosen..." She looked back at him. "We used to exploit Jax's vulnerability to getting bewildered on the regular and Fals doesn't seem to be too good with lots of noise in general."

Bradford rubbed at his stubble. "Fair point. Guess Mordenna stayed behind so they wouldn't feel left out."

She nodded. "Mordenna has a good head on his shoulders. I'll see what I can do about saving them some cake and having a quieter celebration. An after party, probably."

A few seats over, Arsozu perked up. "Someone say after party?"

"Hit the breaks, Arsozu." Bradford took the Reaper's empty glass and topped him off again when he motioned for it. "Not the kind you're thinking of. Unless you want to hang out with the Chosen."

"Mm, I'm still holding a grudge against Mordy for letting one of his pet Berserkers shatter my ribs." Arsozu took a swig. "Unlike Elena, however, I know that straight up avoidance is for the best. Sorry that I haven't been on many loud missions because of that, O'Leary."

"You're a Reaper, Gunwok." Eliza smiled at him. "You're worth your weight in gold in the quieter missions I run between and during them."

He grinned back. "Happy to help. And happy birthday."

Eliza chuckled, swiveling around on her stool to properly look at Bradford. "Thank you, Arsozu. But, yeah. Maybe I'll be tired enough to sleep after all that, yeah?"

Bradford's mouth set a little. "I still have some hangups about how long you kept your sleep paralysis under wraps. Could've been accommodating you—lord knows Tygan might even have a solution."

She sighed. "Last thing I need is to wake up on my back in the Lab, John. Sleep paralysis seems more mental than anything else. Just need to keep on my stomach or my sides."

Bradford looked like there was more he wanted to say to that, but his eyes swept over the crowd of soldiers. "... not the time."

"Not the time."

He let a breath out of his nose. "Later, then." Gesturing to her gauntlets, he handed Mary another beer as she came for one. "That one of your birthday presents?"

Her smile came back. "I'm calling it that. Jax has wanted to get me kitted out like he is for a while, it seems, and honestly I quite like the things." She felt more powerful, yes, but also a little bit more in control. Less of the nervous buzzing that came with her psionics not being used for too long. "The amp's a little gaudy, but I think it's something that'll grow on me. Like the white hair."

Bradford chuckled. "Always told me you'd die before you let it get that white."

"Well, that was mostly my military-born fatalistic attitude talking." Eliza sipped her soda. "I actually think it's kinda nice, nowadays. Doesn't help that Jax is sharing his hair care tips."

He rolled his eyes. "Knew I heard Tygan going on about making new shampoo a while back. Still, hope you're not thinking of wading into the fight with those things."

"You'd crack my skull open if I got into close range, Mr. Ranger."

"Can it," he shot back. "I was different twenty years ago, too. I had a face like a baby and my good sweater."

Eliza laughed, and she swore the room laughed with her, though she was sure it was at some joke she hadn't heard. "Y'know, we've got dedicated tailors on the ship, now, and they called me in to look at the product they're making for the Black Market. I wouldn't hesitate to say that you could get that thing back if you let them measure you."

"Wouldn't be the same," he muttered, "and I'm done getting measured. For life. My joints hurt just thinking about it."

"It'd be just once."

"One time too many. They'd have to kill me first."

Eliza reached over and smacked his arm playfully. "Oh, hush. You'll drop your grievances once you feel the materials they're working with. No more scratchy bedtime suits."

"Misery builds character, Liz."

"I'd rather be underdeveloped as fuck than go to bed one more night scratching at myself like I've got bedbugs." She drank. "Let yourself loosen up a little, John. Embrace the fact that better things can happen."

She hadn't meant to get too poignant, but her comment made Bradford quiet. She set her drink on the counter, watching him with concern as he took a rag and wiped the countertop down. "... you're probably right. I know you're just talking about getting better clothes, but... sometimes I'm afraid I'm gonna wake up and realize the twenty years I spent looking for you are still happening. Feels a little too good to be true that I'm here for your 58th, we haven't had casualties in months, and we have all of the Chosen with us. Like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

So much for trying to keep the mood light, but... Eliza understood that painfully well. Sometimes she felt like she was just waiting to be yanked back by Argus, the simulation petering out around her. She closed her eyes, staving off the memory for a second before opening them and responding. "Only makes it that much more important that we live up the good times, yeah? Make it better before things go to shit. I get your fears, John, don't worry. I empathize. But I suppose I can reel this around into the message you were turning it into."

"Right." He set the rag down. "... thanks, Liz. For everything. I haven't always been the best or had my head in the right place. Just when I think I've hit the end of my rope, there you are to kick my ass and tell me to keep moving."

"And just when I think I'm at my limit," Eliza responded, "you're there to put me on my feet and tell me there's no place to go but forward."

"I'll always be there, Liz." He looked at her seriously. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

Eliza sighed. "Tell it to the judge. I'll get it into my thick skull eventually." She took another drink of her soda. "... Lily and Tygan know the party's on?"

"Tygan declined, saying he's not fond of the commotion. Lily said she had work to do."

"Guess that after party will be for more than just the Chosen, then." Eliza shrugged. "Maybe we can get some of Jax's people in on it, considering there's not many of them here. Something more refined, dare I say."

"Maybe. It'll be up to you to get Tygan out of that lab of his."

"Isn't it always?" She smiled, thinking about him. Poor workaholic, just like Lily, but he was more reserved. Charming, even. Will you ever stop falling in love with everyone? Probably not. "Maybe I'll lure him out with the promise of ADVENT Burgers."

"That man and his damn burgers." Bradford shook his head. "Still, I've got faith that you can weasel him out of there. I suppose I should ask if I'm invited to the after party."

"No." Eliza managed a straight face for all of three seconds before cracking up. "Oh, of course you are, John. Sure the Chosen will be happy to talk for a bit."

"So long as they'll have me. By the way, I heard—"

That was when the door to the Bar opened and Banel stepped in, carting one of the largest cakes Eliza had seen in a while. It was decked out in white and blue, and someone had gone through the trouble of decorating the top with the XCOM symbol—along with "Happy 58th Birthday, Commander." "I believe I have a cake here for one Ms. O'Leary?"

Bradford smiled at her. "That's your cue, Liz. Go get 'em."

Eliza chuckled, getting out of her seat as her soldiers sent up a cheer. What a good time to be alive.