It wasn't always fun.

Back in the beginning, when Dad first died and everybody seemed so sure she was going to mess up as Pathfinder, nothing was really fun about this job. She couldn't stand to hear her own words from back then over the speakers, clipped into newscasts- st the time she felt like she was keeping her upper lip stiff enough to please any soldier. But hearing it now? She just sounded scared.

And who wouldn't be? Especially after Addison laid into her, furious that a rank beginner was somehow in charge of doing the impossible, for life or death stakes- it was so hard to believe that she could actually save anybody.

It was on their faces, the people sitting in med bay like Scott, watching her walk past- they heard her voice dozens of times a day sprinkled in with reports and other official statements. They looked up to her. Everywhere she went, people looked at her like she carried the weight of the world.

Everybody but Scott. And her crew. But today, right now, it was all about Scott.

She hugged her twin, happy to feel the strength that was returning to his arms. He looked better. Less pale- even though he was still spacer-pale, of course- and less gaunt. He looked better every time she came to visit.

They talked about him first, like always. His treatment and his progress and his frustrations, because it was easiest to start there. Harder to summarize the things she'd done since the last time they talked. But this time, he didn't wait for her to drift into telling him about Pathfinder business.

"Cora came by. She says you and Liam Kosta are. . . how did she put it? Cozy?" Scott's smile was sly. She punched his shoulder, gentle as if he were a little kid, and smiled back.

"I didn't realize Cora was visiting you. Weren't you scared Dad was trying to set you two up?"

"She's a sweetheart. A good friend to have," Scott said, without a trace of self-consciousness. "I'm not worried about Dad's designs because, well. You know. But don't dodge the question. You know I called you two six hundred years ago. Tell me the news."

"It's not. . ." She stopped, chewing on her bottom lip. How could she explain something she hadn't really figured out? That she didn't even have time to figure out? "We're not a thing, not really. Kind of flirted with the concept but then stuff just sort of happened. Pathfinder business sort of got too busy. We hit Kadara, and then the Archon's ship, and it's just been. . . it's just been a hell of a ride, you know? He tries to make sure I'm okay in our downtime, she might be noticing that. But he does that for everybody. He's a caring guy. Heart as big as the moon. It's not about me, per se. I don't think."

"Sounds like he's a real sweetheart too. A good friend to have, if nothing else," Scott said. He lay back, relaxing, and seeming to almost deflate with a sigh. "I'm not lifting my bet, though. I still think you two dorks go together."

"Ha." She snorted, eyes falling on her hands, twisting in her lap. With effort, she relaxed her tightening shoulders.

"Uh-oh." Scott curled back up, rising onto one elbow. "What? Spill."

"I'm not too busy. Not really. Not for somebody who's already on my ship, on my crew. We're always together already." She took a deep breath, and continued in a very small, quiet voice. "It's more that I don't think he's that interested. And, I'm the Pathfinder. I'm the boss. I can't ask. Or push. Or. . . you did win the bet. Technically."

"I. . . did?" Scott lay back down, pulling up his omnitool. He must have been pulling up his bank records, because he muttered, "Yeah, okay, right about. . . that was weeks ago! And you're just mentioning it now?"

"I was waiting for you to notice," she said, a smile flitting across her face. "He said, you know, he didn't want to get clingy but maybe we could see how it went and then. . . we hung out a few times after that, and it all just kind of. . . I don't know. It's like we're friends. We just flirt sometimes."

"Sara." Scott covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes hard. Through his fingers he said, "You never think ANYONE is interested. You're not good at this. You know that."

"Damn right I do." She sighed. "I know I have to say things bluntly, that I'm no good at picking up signals. I know. So I told him straight out that I was interested."

"And?"

"And he said, yeah, him too, but let's bank that for another day."

"Ugh. Sara, did it ever occur to you that maybe you're already dating and you just don't realize it?" Scott said, the words muffled by his hands. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not doing that again. No. I'm pretty sure this is just. . . one of those things. Bad timing. Or whatever. And that's fine. You know why? Because there's a million other more important things to worry about here! This is just. . . down-time stuff."

"It's a personnel problem is what it is. This right here is why the Alliance didn't allow fraternization. All this uncertainty is worse for your team than just straight up dating." Scott lowered his hands and looked at her in a very familiar kind of fond exasperation. "It's too bad I can't come with you. I'm good at sorting out personnel stuff. All my C.O.'s said so."

"Yeah, yeah, nice try. You're stuck here in medical until you're cleared," she said. But then she relented enough to add, "But I will want you to come with me when you are. Even if it's just temporary, before you find your own niche. We've got a whole bunch of competing personalities on my ship. Sometimes I think I piss them off more than I help."

"It's working. Everybody says so. You're doing fine." He reached up and squeezed her arm, in reassurance.

"Even though somebody off ship can spot a personnel problem?" she asked, dryly. He chuckled.

"How about you try just like, asking him? Or even just giving the guy a hug and seeing how that goes. Or, you know. If I'm reading it wrong and you're not that interested, tell him so. Blunt, clean break."

"Maybe." She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, then let it out on a sigh. "You know I'm going to pester the shit out of you when you're out of medical. Every date you go on. Just blah-blah all the time. In payback."

"You can certainly try."