Rush walked out and kept walking, three corridors, three turns until he was in a room he knew was practically never used. He could not back out of this without embarrassing himself. There was no way he could see to refuse to go at this late stage. A little more notice and he could have faked some sort of emergency with the ship, but now…No doubt Young had planned it this way although Rush had no idea why. Rush seemed to spend his whole time at the moment asking himself questions that started 'why'. Young evidently did not trust him, but apparently the man still wanted to be in the same place as him and was more than willing to arrange matters to endure it.

Their previous close encounters had all been the result of necessity, when had choice become a factor? It seemed a recent phenomenon. He reached out, tapped a console and checked the time. He had been gone about five minutes, much longer and Young or TJ would no doubt be sending someone to find him. He sighed and left the room, pausing at the science team's storage cubby to pick up a roll of leather that held his carving tools, he should have remembered anyway. Still annoyed he made his way back to the gateroom.

The assembled group, all eleven of them, were staring at him as he walked back in.

"I forgot something," he said shortly, gesturing with the leather bundle in his hand. "Are we ready?"

Young gave him a suspicious look but turned and nodded to Eli who was standing at the gate controls, flanked by Camile and Scott. Rush paused a moment, then walked to stand next to Young.

"You okay?" Young's voice was low and sounded concerned.

"Fine." Rush said sharply, but pitching his voice quietly.

The wormhole flew out from the gate with the familiar splash of watery light then settled.

"I wasn't sure you'd come when you walked off."

"You didn't warn me you were…" Rush stopped.

It wasn't as if he should expect a warning. Why would he need a warning. Around them the group hefted bags and crates and stepped forward.

"Shall we?" Rush asked, leaving the previous conversation for dead.

Young stepped forward towards the gate and with a frustrated frown Rush flanked him, following him through the gate.

xxxoooxxx

Rush sat turning the netting shuttle in his hands, rubbing it down with a small piece of sandstone, the closest thing he could find to sandpaper. He had known what Calvos was talking about as soon as he had started to talk, had seen them used on the docks as a boy. The wood would do well enough for now, but in the long term bone would last longer. Working by touch alone he sanded away the marks from the knife while his eyes were on the small group on the other side of the camp site. Young was sat deep in discussion with Inman and Becker, who were cooking, the conversation no doubt about supplies.

They had been here precisely thirteen hours, most of which time they had been harvesting a plant which would apparently provide carbohydrates. He was torn between his view of doing such manual work as a complete waste of his expert time, and the feeling of being able to lose himself a little in the hard physical effort in the sun and the open air. The thinking time had actually been welcome, allowing serious consideration of the best way to address a couple of programming problems.

The one thing he had not been able to address in the thirteen hours thinking time was Young. No-one had broached the topic of who was bunking with whom yet, although it was clear that there were sufficient shelters that they would be sharing in pairs. Young had already left his pack in one of the shelters, the one at the far end, Rush had seen him do it. Rush himself had simply left his kit by a cut log that was being used for a seat and walked out to the area that they were harvesting. He had joined the rest of the working party, pushing aside thoughts of those sorts of logistics from his mind as far as possible, until inexorably they had emerged to ambush him as Young's voice had lifted behind him giving an order.

Camile had undertaken the shore leave schedule. However, Camile would never voluntarily schedule Young and Rush together for something like this, which meant that Young had requested they be scheduled together. Young had asked for this, must have. He wondered what the conversation between Camile and Young had consisted of. It cannot have been a comfortable conversation at all for Young. He wondered what excuses Young had given. There must have been excuses.

The last few people came up from washing sweat and dirt off in the river, disturbing the conversation on the other side of the clearing. Young stood and for a moment their eyes met, before Young ducked his head then made for where Brody, Barnes and Calvos were now taking a seat by one of the shelters. Rush shook his head irritatedly, flicked his still damp hair out of his face and went back to the work at hand.

xxxoooxxx

Young stood staring up at the stars. A fresh breeze had whipped up, but he wasn't ready to get back under cover yet. He missed the sky and the feeling of freedom that came with having nothing above your head but air was slightly intoxicating. He looked back at where the shelters had been set up round the fire. He'd deposited his gear in one of the shelters but wasn't sure how the others had been shared out. Greer had taken his place on guard, sat staring out into the dark, kino remote in hand, gun across his knees.

He shifted from foot to foot. He had been slightly concerned about how his knee would hold up to the work, but there was not a lot of walking required here, and with a little care he had managed fine, just a little discomfort as he turned or shifted without thinking. He wandered back and pushed open the curtain on the shelter, stooping to enter the low doorway. Familiar dark eyes stared out at him. He stopped.

"Hi." He said uncertainly, crouching in the doorway.

Rush was lying on the bed, his face cast in strange flickering shadows by the flames dancing from the makeshift animal fat lamp on a flat rock by the head of the pallet.

"Better the devil you know." Rush muttered. "Brody offered. I declined."

He found himself strangely pleased. "Where's Brody then?"

"In with Greer." Rush said. "Or will be. Calvos ended up with Barnes, because..." Rush chuckled, "Becker and Inman are in together."

Young laughed quietly. "They've been working together a lot."

Young had added more hay over the branches that formed the makeshift pallet made by the first team who had arrived here, the hay from previous occupants squashed into the base. Since then Rush had evidently spread a blanket over the thick layer of hay and a couple more over the top, folded back a little to show a pillow apparently made of more hay stuffed in a fourth folded blanket. He lay on top of the blankets on one side of the pallet, propped up on his arm. Left hand side, Young realised. In the cold aboard ship, Young had slept on the right hand side of the bed, always did, Rush had left his usual space free. Strange how things became habit.

"We need to talk." Rush said changing the subject suddenly. "There's...things to talk about." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Talk?" Young was surprised. "You never talk."

"Yes, well, I think we need to talk now, Colonel." The last word, while spoken equally as quietly as the rest of his statement, was bitten off sharply.

"What about?" Young crouched in the doorway, letting the blanket door drop behind him.

"Us, this."

Young looked at Rush, who seemed to be holding his face carefully impassive in the flickering light. "Okay. Shoot."

"Why are we doing this?" Rush asked gesturing at the bed.

Young looked at him, Rush looked back up at him, face almost expressionless except a hint of something that might be trepidation, caution or maybe fear. There was a long silence between them before Young finally gave in and spoke.

"I don't know about you, but I'm doing this because..." he paused, rolling the thought around his head. He was uncertain he wished to make any admissions to Rush, to risk letting on anything that Rush could subsequently use against him. He sighed and moved forward to kneeling on the edge of the bed. "I'm doing this because I need some company." He said finally, deciding he didn't have so much to lose. Rush would have to make admissions of his own to use anything Young said, something Young did not think would happen. "I need to have someone about sometimes and you're warm and apparently lonely too." He sat on the pallet, turning to face Rush again hearing hay and branches crackle a little underneath him. Young sighed. "And neither of us has anywhere else to go or anyone else to go to."

"You could be spending your time with Lieutenant Johansen." Rush pointed out.

Young froze angrily, ready to fire a response back, then sighed. "No," he said quietly, "I don't think I can."

Rush stared at him for a few seconds. He seemed to do that a lot. "Maybe not." Rush said finally. "Are you comfortable with this?"

"Hey," Young said, "you haven't told me what you're getting out of this. You're doing it again."

"What?" snapped Rush.

"Letting other people do the talking and not letting anything on yourself." Young shifted his weight and lay down on his side, putting himself closer to Rush, looking up at him from the blankets. "So come on then, tell me, what are you getting out of this?" He demanded.

Rush scowled.

"No," Young insisted angrily, "talk, Rush."

Rush looked away, but spoke anyway. "Same as you, I...I'm alone here, and you're company. There's no-one else and we're jest stupid enough to trust each other with this secret after all we've been through wi' each other." He laughed sourly. "We've both seen the worst the other can do."

Young's answering laugh was equally as harsh. "And when we're back on Destiny?" Young continued, aware he was pushing the issue.

"You're like a dog with a bone." Rush growled.

"I'm fed up with us doing this and swinging from being comfortable to stressed out to guilty and round through it all again." Despite the whisper there was a snap to Young's tone. "And you," he punctuated his statement with a stab of a pointing finger at Rush, "are as much at fault as I am. You just refuse to talk about it."

"I seem to remember I'm the one who started this conversation." Rush fired back at him, voice sharp, but his free arm came up to fold across his cheset defensively.

"Only cause you wanted to find out what I was thinking, not because you actually had any intention of talking yourself." Young replied.

Rush snorted. "Fine, well, I suspect that if one or the other of us has a truly shite day then the other will find they have company won't they?"

"Fine." Young echoed. He moved up the bed and started to shed his outer clothes. Rush watched him silently. Young slid in between the blankets. "Come on, get in."

He watched as Rush rolled onto his back and shed his pants, then hauled his outer t-shirt over his head. Rush slid into bed and lay down facing away from Young. Young pulled the covers up and spooned up behind Rush. Rush sighed then chuckled nastily.

"What?" Young asked him.

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Rush said.

Young laughed. "This may be taking that a little far."

Rush shifted and Young wrapped his arm loosely round Rush's waist. Rush sighed and shifted his head so it was pillowed on his arm. They settled into the pallet, the smell of hay and sap wreathing up through the blanket.

"Warm." Rush muttered, slightly sleepily.

"Yeah."

And then there was silence.

Dawn woke him, shafts of light playing through the gaps at the edge of the curtain door. Young listened carefully but there was no noise of people yet from outside. It must still be very early, the only sounds from outside were the distant rumbles from the herd beasts, the low pitched bellows carrying miles, and the scratchy crackle of the bird equivalents here, really more like a cross between a bat and a lizard. He drew his attention back to the more immediate.

Rush was tucked into Young's arms, his back flush against the curve of Young's body and Young's face was nestled into the back of Rush's neck, buried in Rush's hair. Rush was asleep still, Young could feel his breathing soft and regular. Rush smelled of sweat and the smell of the buckwheat plants, like the camomile tea Emily drank when she couldn't sleep. Young's fingers were flat against Rush's stomach and he could feel the flat plaque of the scar where Rush was stabbed under one hand. His other arm was under Rush's head, pillowed on his bicep, arm folded down over Rush's shoulder to cup his chest.

Young moved and Rush stiffened then settled again. Carefully he shifted the arm under Rush's head and Rush moved restlessly again. He pulled his arm back and with a grumbling noise Rush rolled. As Rush rolled Young slid his arms back. Rush's hand reached out sleepily to rest on Young's chest. Young sighed and waited for a while until Rush settled again before sliding backwards and slipping off the pallet. He pulled on his pants and left the shelter.

He had been wrong, Becker and Calvos were at the fire, Calvos building the fire up and Becker quietly stirring something in a plastic bowl. They looked up as he exited the shelter and he walked over.

"Morning." He said quietly. "Anything I can do?"

"Peel those?" Becker gestured at a heap of some green vegetables, or maybe fruits piled on a empty backpack on the floor.

Young sat down and pitched into helping with breakfast.

xxxoooxxx

Despite the hard physical work, three days on this planet was going to be a real break. Stripped to the waist in the bright sunshine, swinging Brody's makeshift sickles he harvested plants that apparently provided a seed Inman claimed was like buckwheat. Even Barnes was down to her bra and Young's eyes slipped sideways to where Rush was down to the black undershirt Young had given him. The sunlight was warm, but he'd been assured he was much less likely to get sunburned on this planet, and it seemed to be true. He wasn't going to complain. Sweat was trickling down his back though.

"Calvos!" Young called to the man who looked like he was flagging a little. Calvos looked over at him, surprised. "Go get some water Cal, we're all sweating like crazy here."

The man grinned, and trotted off. Something had happened to him since he had come here, Young knew. Calvos had loosened up a little. He'd noticed Barnes calling him Cal at breakfast that morning, and that Greer, Brody and the others had picked up on it already. When they had arrived Calvos had been nervous, isolated and anxious but in the space of a day and a night he'd become part of the group. Young thought it was probably Barnes' work, but whatever it was, he was now more relaxed in the presence of the others, laughing with Becker, exchanging a few words with Brody and smiling at everyone. He seemed to finally be settling in and becoming part of the crew.

The water revived him and the others and they got in another three hours work before Young called a halt. This planet had a twenty six and a half hour day, a little long, putting them just out of sync with Destiny.

"What's cooking?" he asked Inman as they stood, getting ready to go back to the camp.

"Darren said it was stew and biscuits." She grinned, brandishing a handful of the plant. "Made with this stuff. This stuff is good. Really good."

Young wiped his sickle on a tuft of plant. "How long will it last."

"If we dry it properly up to a year, more if we can make it airtight. We just need to prevent bacteria."

"What about if it was stored in CO2?" Rush's voice came from behind Young. They turned. "Well?" Rush demanded.

"Yes, that would be perfect." Inman said.

"We can seal it in crates and pump them full of CO2" Rush said.

"We have a way of doing that?" Young asked.

"No," Rush said, putting his shirt back on. "I'm just standing here making up stories for your entertainment."

Rush stalked off. Young had no idea what had got up his ass, but something had pissed him off. He and Inman followed him back too the camp.

"What are you doing?" Young asked Becker who was sitting by the fire keeping an eye on a boiling pot and working on what looked like a tangle of reed like leaves.

"Weaving baskets." He lifted it to show Young the completed base. "I need more storage in smaller sizes for the kitchen, like for keeping fruit in. They tend to bruise in crates."

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

"Calvos. He comes from a really agricultural planet, they use loads of these apparently. He was like head hunted for education as a kid though 'cause he was bright. He's making me some vegetable nets as well. Ask him, he'll show you, he's really good at the craft thing."

Young wandered over to Calvos who was sat on a large rock. He was apparently making some sort of fibre into nets using the wooden object that Young had seen Rush making the previous evening. The Lucian Alliance soldier looked oddly domestic sitting there cross legged in his leather pants and a borrowed shirt with a lap full of net.

"Hi." Calvos said, running the shuttle through the net again, catching a loop on the fingers of his other hand and pulling the knot that appeared tight. Young watched as Calvos worked more loops around the circle of net until he reached the beginning again and he started another row and suddenly the loose loops were net. The shuttle eventually ran out of string and Calvos tied off the loose end and reached down to a bundle of string by his knee to refill the shuttle again.

"That's clever." Young said, watching as Calvos tied in the new end and continued.

Calvos laughed. "I can remember my mother doing this when I was a child, making hay nets for the animals"

"What is it?" Young gestured at the net.

"Vegetable net, small gaps so they don't escape, they bruise the vegetables less than crates, you can see what you have and they stop the vegetables getting mouldy from being in a wet box."

Young nodded. Not something he had thought about himself, but it made sense and new storage solutions were always useful.

"What's it made of?"

"It is animal hair, from the herd beasts, They shed it when they rub against trees. It is all over the area by the river. Varro found it when he came here the first day with Doctor Inman."

Young reached out and fingered some of the string thoughtfully. It was dense but slightly hairy and rough to touch. "You made the string too?"

"Yes. People have been collecting it for me since Varro saw it. Wash it, card it with two borrowed hairbrushes and then spin it. It's too rough for clothes, but fine for string. I made a lot of the wool for your socks, before you were letting us help on the ship too. It's easy to learn, harder to keep the thread even, but anyone can make good enough thread to make nets or simple fabric or to knit. Doctor Rush said he will make more shuttles and some knitting needles so I can teach other people now I work more. I need a crochet hook too, Chloe says she will teach me."

Young nodded of course, Rush was the carver round here, though he hadn't realised that the wool had come from Calvos.

"Could you make, like, a belt from this string?" He asked.

"It would be quite easy to plait or knot a belt." Calvos said.

"Rush needs one." Young said.

Calvos nodded "I can do that. New underwear." He said pensively. "That is what I want."

Young laughed. "Yeah, that would be good. If we keep going this way we'll all be wearing leather pants like you guys."

"Could be worse." Calvos shrugged. "They last well. They are comfortable."

Young had a sudden flashback to Rush mentioning he had worn leather pants in his twenties. "Somehow I can't see myself in leather pants." He said with a smile.

"If that is all we have I think that is what we will wear. Your trousers are looking like they need mending at the knees already. Maybe you should put leather patches on the knees and elbows of your uniforms?"

Young nodded thoughtfully. "Probably a good idea."

"Would you please pass me some more fuzzy string."

"Fuzzy string?" Young laughed.

Calvos looked at him. "I don't know what else you call it, it is what Becker called it."

"Figures." Young said, handing Calvos another handful of the hairy string.

"Doctor Inman thinks also that the buckwheat plants might work to make a fabric you call linen. She has been talking to Mr Brody about making a loom." Calvos added.

"Good." Young continued to watch as the shuttle was threaded through and back, another row of net appearing.

"You want a go?" Calvos asked.

"Maybe I'll wait until Rush makes you another shuttle before I mess up your good work." Young demurred.

Calvos laughed. "Won't be long." He unwound some of the thread again and continued another row. "He watches you, you know. I think he actually likes you."

Young stopped, face freezing. "What?"

Calvos looked up concerned. "I'm sorry, have I offended you?"

"No...well...shocked me." Young said, realising Calvos came from an entirely different cultural background.

"Sorry. Leanne says I have gaydar. And apparently straightdar too." He laughed, Young wondered who else he had noted noticing each other to result in those explanations. "She had to explain it to me, but I observe these things, people watching people. It was a…survival technique in the Lucian Alliance. If it's rude I won't mention it again to anyone."

"Do you mean he watches me...that way?"

"No, not that way, just watches you a lot and not angrily." Calvos said looking down at the net as he pulled a knot tight. "Though everyone seems to think you hate each other."

"Not so much anymore." Young said, wanting to change the subject. "We've had to learn to get along."

Calvos looked back up at him and nodded sympathetically. "Always the same when you live and work with the same people all the time, farms, ships, secret operations on enemy planets," he grinned ruefully and Young chuckled, "you have to learn to get along."

"True." Young agreed. "Though you seem to be getting along a lot better now."

"Yeah." Calvos said. "Leanne has helped a lot and now I am doing things with Mr Brody and Becker I am talking to people a lot more."

"Good. Well, I'll leave you to it, but you'll have to show me when you get another shuttle. And the knitting, maybe next time I'll make my own socks."

Calvos nodded, smiling and Young left, fast.

xxxoooxxx

Young left the fire. He hadn't been this full of food in a long time, he was still feeling pleasantly stuffed even a couple of hours after dinner and had not been inclined to move until it had settled at least a little. He was aware that Rush had disappeared some time earlier. Rush had been carving again, making a wooden spoon for Becker apparently and when he had finished had got up and left to seek his bed, their bed, saying goodnight. Young had bid him goodnight with the others without much of a thought. He supposed he was finally beginning to get used to the man even if he didn't entirely trust him yet.

He wandered back to their shelter, stooping and quietly opening the hanging to get in without waking the other man. Rush appeared to be asleep already, curled on his side, blanket pulled partway up his chest and arm thrown loosely over the top of it.

Young shucked out of his pants and jacket and slid between the blankets wondering what to do with himself, where to lie. There was no need for them to sleep close here, the planet was warm, the two blankets and the insulating pallet more than enough to keep them at a comfortable temperature. The previous night the conversation had ensured he had already been pushed past his interpersonal comfort zone and curling up with the other man had happened automatically. Now with time to think about what the hell he was doing, and the impact of the conversation last night having had time to settle in, he was second guessing himself, feeling bothered about the fact that he was choosing to sleep with the other man.

His instinct was to roll into Rush's body, curl into the warmth, but he just rolled to face the other man, closed his eyes and sighed, trying to relax. He listened to the other man's breathing, the slight creaks of the pallet under him as he tried to get comfortable. Outside he could hear quiet voices. He spent a while trying to work out who was speaking, finally coming to the conclusion that it was Barnes and Calvos he could hear. Young shifted his knee up to better prop himself up and froze as his knee brushed Rush's hip.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Rush said.

Young jumped, he hadn't realised Rush was awake. "Sorry." He apologised. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You already did when you came in. Do me a favour and don't flinch every time any part of you touches me." Rush reached out and grabbed Young's hand wrapping it firmly in his before he closed his eyes and shifted, settling further into the pallet. "Stop stressing and go to sleep Young. You'll know where I am now."

Young couldn't tell when Rush went to sleep, or even if he did go to sleep, at some point his hand relaxed a little around Young's but didn't let go. It was true, Young knew where he was, the contact defining their locations in space in a less charged way than being closer together. It was reassuring though.

He still lay there, sleepless. Somewhere a way away he could hear the slight sounds that suggested people were having sex, probably Becker and Inman, he doubted it was Calvos and Barnes, and the other shelters were a little further away, although you couldn't tell he thought. You really couldn't tell these days. He pulled Rush's hand a little closer to him, so his arm wasn't so outstretched and settled down into the bed to try and sleep.