A/N: Lila and Jack have a talk about their future.

Oblique spoilers to the ending & a late affinity line. (Yelv.) Fluff, swears, and kissing.

Lila's not Cross, just a worried NPC with a blue speech bubble about fuel usage. Everything else belongs to the geniuses of MONOLITH SOFT.

XCX PORTANDA EST!

He'd bullied her into it. He wasn't proud of it, but after so many losses, so much denied to him, a man had to draw the line.

Patience would have been the right way to go, of course. She wanted to say yes, he knew it. Little things she said, big things she did, he didn't have to guess. But she was stubborn about saying no. He could have waited, what, a month, a few more weeks even, and she'd have come around.

But his stores of patience were down to nothing. Retraining the BLADE recruits, so many new ones pulled from civilians (or from elsewhere), so many kids switching divisions now that the Lifehold was found, that took almost all he had. Just watching the calisthenics was enough to try a lesser man. The real problem was beating it into them that the main mission of BLADE was no longer about defeating the enemy. The days of blind and wild shooting were over. They needed to focus on sustaining their civilization now. Not that anyone had a consensus about what that should look like. Just deciding how to integrate their new xeno allies was a nightmare, and that was probably the best part of the job. At least, that aspect left him feeling grateful for too many choices, and not terrified that the only choices would end up badly. If there were any choices.

Raw recruits, xenos, and NLA, that just about took care of it. Then, because the gods had decided he deserved an early taste of hell, he only had to wait for his brand new attaché to open his goddamned mouth in order to feel every scrap of patience evaporate. What he had done to deserve H.B., he didn't want to try to figure out. Something monstrous in this and several previous lives. He'd have wiped the deck with that boy a hundred times in the first week, if the bastard didn't come up with something brilliant one time in ten, and something passable more often than that. But at times it was just so damn painful that he ran out of growls and could only stare in silence.

Maybe if he could spend more time with Lila, he could have waited. But he was busy beyond belief, and she was going to get her refueling station reopened if she had to build it single handedly, using popsicle sticks and French fries. The main hangar staff had decided to integrate the area, making it an official part of repairs and refueling. Lila wasn't completely on board, and was determinedly perverting their efforts to build a standard facility. He had officially handed all oversight of that little issue to Eleonora. She, in turn, was charmingly and completely swiveling everyone involved. Vandham was fairly certain that, by the end of the month, the refueling station would be running exactly to Lila's standards, and the hangar staff would not be sure why they were paying for her supplies and raw fuel. And that any of Eleonora's special projects would have a warm and safe job with Lila, no matter what freaky issue followed them like a cloud, with not a murmur of question or complaint from their new supervisor. He still wasn't sure what the real purpose of that station had ever been. Espionage? Protection? Safety valve? It had done such a good job just refueling skells, he hadn't ever considered anything different until it all blew up.

So he couldn't take months bringing her round to his point of view. Because he had no patience, and they'd had no time, and lastly, because he wasn't sure any of them had months to spare. But he tried not to look at that aspect too directly.

Anyway, that left him with only one recourse. He'd had to bully her into agreeing. Trick her, really. He forced her down the path to his way of thinking, after fruitless weeks of more indirect arguments. Fiery, loud, indirect arguments, that ended in a certain enjoyable concordance whenever they actually were in the same room, but, goddammit, not in her giving in to his original demand.

"Just imagine, for instance, what if it were different," he'd started off.

"It isn't, sir. You know that." She was looking more and more sour, every time he brought it up. It was getting so bad, he'd snuck a quick peek to check if she was still wearing his ring. Yup, still twinkling on her finger. Right hand, though. He was going to fix that, tonight.

"Humor me. We're going to get this mess settled, you know that, this is only a temporary delay." The lie rolled off easily. He didn't even need the support of reminding himself that they were doing their damdest to turn it into the truth. "But imagine, for some reason, right now, right here, I was stuck as a mimeosome and you were all safe and human. Would you still be saying no?"

She looked miserable. "Don't joke about that."

"Answer me, woman."

She said, in a strained voice, "Of course not. I wouldn't care."

"And would I hesitate for a second if it was reversed? Because I'm daring you to tell me you think that."

"You'd be wrong. And I would tell you no."

"I'd be right, dammit. Why would it be fine one way, and wrong the other?"

She shook her head. "I'm willing to risk it. You shouldn't have to. You can't promise that we'd be treated the same. Organic versus mimeosome. It could get ugly."

"I can take the hit. Look at me." He tried to look as massive as possible, achieving a frankly impressive display. Prone could take lessons, thank you. He stared into her eyes for several seconds, before saying softly. "I think I could handle a little thing like that."

She shook her head, again, but didn't say anything.

"So," he said, pulling her very close, "if half of it wouldn't stop it, either way, why are you so hung on waiting until both of us are fixed? Both of us in the same boat." His voice dropped lower. "You like boats, right?" He was satisfied to feel her shiver at that.

"I like you, sir." Her voice was muffled, and scared enough that he wanted to hold her forever. Okay, that didn't require patience, not at all.

"You love me, fool. So say yes."

Pause. Sigh. He struggled to keep silent. Another sigh, deep and long and final. Then she replied with an almost dreamy tone. "You'll need to ask. Again. If you're not too tired of doing that." Then she … giggled? "Just be clear what I'm saying yes to."

He was the last thing from tired, but in any case he hadn't bothered, moving directly to celebration. Proving his total lack of patience, but he'd paused long enough to let her say yes and so had he, and that was enough.

Later, on her dumpster of a couch, her tucked close beside him, he admired the blue stone resting on her left hand with satisfaction. She'd agreed, scared though she was. He wasn't as cocky as he'd been pretending, but he'd faced worse things and succeeded. He hoped none of the lies he'd told would turn nasty. Nastier.

She was asleep. Good, she needed it. He could use a nap. Let's do this, he thought, and closed his eyes.

"She didn't love you, back on Earth, not as a human, not like this. Respect and attraction, that was all," said a strange voice beside him. He snapped his eyes open and looked at her. Her eyes were still closed, and he'd swear she was still asleep. But she was whispering to him, very softly but clearly.

"Not even on the Whale, although it was close. So close. It changed when we hit Mira." He waited for her to open her eyes, look at him, but no, they stayed shut, her face still relaxed. "I don't want to go back," she added, in a voice as small as a child's complaint. She cuddled up to him, hiding her face against him.

"Shhhh, shhhhh, I understand," he rumbled back. She fell silent, and after a deep sigh returned to breathing peacefully, clearly asleep. Possibly just as she had been throughout. It gave him the shivers. Stupid him, thinking she didn't know the things she had no business knowing, about the inexplicable independence of their mimeosomes. She'd known there weren't any human bodies for months. Something she'd learned when she'd broken into the Lifehold on the Whale, strictly for security reasons, of course. She'd confessed to him about that already. So why was he surprised she knew the rest? He was glad that he knew the real reason for her hesitation, even though it meant that she was right and he was wrong.

Except she didn't realize, he'd loved her back then, he'd loved her on the Whale, and if it had taken a stupid and potentially genocidal disaster to make this happen for her, well, it had happened. He could take the hit, whatever next week or month or year brought them. Especially since, dammit, it didn't look like they'd ever go back, something she still didn't know. Probably. He fell asleep, not as quietly as he'd wished for, dreaming of fragile rope bridges leading into darkness.

a/n: No, that's not the voice of Mira speaking, that's Lila when she's telling the absolute truth. No wonder it's like something that's never been heard before. Engagement & wedding rings go on the ring finger of the left hand in real Los Angeles; I'm declaring it to be the same in NLA. Notice that this story reflects my favorite head canon, Anti-Organic Redemption *coughmechoncough*.

Three more to go. Wait, I said there were three extra ... nope, wrote a stupid new bit. So we have Eleonora and explanations, stupid bit with guest star Dav Pilkey, and green-piggy's AU inspired fluffpalooza.

EX NO2: Eleonora does what the author can't seem to stop doing: explain stuff. A chapter that should be #3, but spoils everything, so it's here. Excuse me, I have to shave some RP off Telly.