Thanks to AreUExperienced for suggesting that I continue this, and also to the rest of those who reviewed the first part and offered suggestions.

Also note that I have no idea where this is going, but isn't that the point of NaNoWriMo?

The icy sheen of the communicator's screen glared back at Fox, flashing and morphing as he navigated the menus, looking for nothing. He kept hoping the screen would light up with that white-backed picture from two months ago, that her visage would materialize in front of him, but the only image that came was the white numbers on the top of the screen climbing upward, reminding him that there was still a world out there, that time went on in Lylat even when it no longer existed for Fox.

There came a knock from the door. At first, he ignored it, but when it started again, he said barely loud enough for him to hear himself, "Come in."

Falco's blue head peeked in from a crack in the door. Of course it was Falco. Fox lay back in his bed, pulling the pillow over his eyes. "What do you want?"

There was a long silence. Then, a cough, and Falco's low voice said, "It's been three days. Don't you think it's time to take back over?"

He slowly let the pillow fall down until his eyes were exposed again, and he stared directly at the bird. "I think it's time for a break."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

Fox looked down at his communicator again.

"Look, I understand what you're going through." Fox felt the warmth of Falco's hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. "You can get over it or try to fix it, but there's not much else you can do. Sitting around like this, for sure, won't help."

Falco seemed to be waiting for some kind of response, but Fox didn't know what he was supposed to do, because the bird hadn't told him anything he hadn't already known. He knew that he should resume normal duties—he'd told himself that a thousand times, but that didn't make doing it any easier. Instead, his thoughts turned elsewhere. "Where are we right now?" he said slowly.

Falco sighed. "Between Corneria and Fichina. Hey, I know that look. What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," Fox said. "I..." He trailed off, then became aware of Falco's impatient stare. An idea came to him. "Well, I was just thinking that I could really use some time to myself."

The bird blinked. "Don't go getting any crazy ideas..."

"I'm not that miserable," he said. "I just want to take a little flight, is all, to calm myself down. I haven't been in the Arwing since it happened."

"Well, if you want to take a joy ride, do it. Who's gonna stop you? Peppy? He'd give you anything if you asked him." Falco paused for a few seconds, looking off at nothing in particular, a pensive look on his beak. "Just go. I'll cover for ya if there are any problems."

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Fox smiled. "I appreciate it. Thanks." He got off the bed and stood up, sending an expectant look to Falco.

"We'll just idle here I guess," Falco said. "Take as long as you need; we've got no missions and nowhere to be. Maybe I'll take a flight myself. I guess I could use a little time off."

Fox didn't say anything, letting his eyes fall down to the communicator again. He brought up the contacts list and looked at her picture one last time, then walked out of the room, leaving Falco standing behind him.

The familiarity of the Arwing was just what Fox McCloud needed after mingling in the alien world of relationships. Still, when he sat down in the cockpit to prepare for takeoff, the familiarity and relaxation he was expecting never came; it was as if he were in somebody else's ship. Nothing felt the same, not even the cool synthetic leather seats and the bumpy control stick that piloted the ship. Unable to shake the feeling, he took off in spite of it.

He knew where he was going. He hadn't planned on it, but he couldn't stop himself. Once he got into the ship and started flying, there was only one place that he knew of to go. Deep inside him, a nagging feeling ate away at him, warning him that he shouldn't be going there—and he knew he shouldn't—but he couldn't stop himself from doing so.

Soon enough, the rocky mass of Meteo came into view. Ordinarily, he might be a little edgy because of the difficult piloting he knew would be ahead of him, but he flew onward without the slightest hesitation or hurry. He didn't prolong the flight and revel its congeniality, nor did he rush because he dreaded the flight or because he was expectant of what came in the future. No such things existed; for him, there was only lassitude and languor with no observable end. The flight, as ridiculous as it was, was just something to do in the midst of it all.

When the eerie silhouette of Sargasso came into view, he gripped the controls with newfound intensity. Now that he was here, he was starting to see the stupidity in coming. What reasoning was there? What could he hope to gain? He knew the answer was nothing, but he continued approaching the station nonetheless, reasoning that it was too late to go back now. Any minute now...

He heard a familiar beeping sound: the chiming of the comm link. A little red light had lit up next to the communications control panel. Fox reached over and switched the link on.

The gray face of Wolf O'Donnell appeared on-screen—exactly who Fox had been expecting, although he wasn't exactly sure what to expect from this point on. Stupid, he cursed himself.

On-screen, Wolf's one eye blinked at him, then opened wide in disbelief. He looked almost as surprised at Fox as Fox was at himself. "Huh?" he said. "Fox? What do you want?"

"Just here to visit," he murmured.

Wolf threw his head back and laughed. It took a while for those words to set in and for the other to realize that Fox hadn't been joking, and what Fox saw reflected in Wolf's visage and ears was something he would never have expected: fear. "Huh, are you insane? What for?"

"Just because I can. Is that a crime?"

Wolf's ears swiveled forward, and he squinted at the screen. "LOICing you in self-defense isn't a crime either. Should I do it?"

"That's irrelevant. I'm not on a planet and you don't have an ion cannon. Plus, I haven't shown any aggression, so yes, it would be a crime."

"That wasn't meant to be taken literally."

"I know. You were trying to intimidate me, and it didn't work. So are you going to let me in or not?"

Wolf said nothing, but he pursed his lips and growled. A few moments later, the communication link switched off and the doors of Sargasso's bay opened. The Arwing glided in with an ease and steadiness that normally came with familiarity. When he stepped out and into the loud, open bay of Sargasso, nobody had taken special notice of his entrance, at least until Wolf approached, frowning and crossing his arms.

"Well?"

At this point, Fox wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He hadn't gone over any of this in his head, and he figured that the most direct path would also be the easiest. "I hear you have a new team member," Fox said.

Wolf raised an eyebrow, amused. "Yeah. I heard you kicked her off Star Fox."

The words were worse than any physical blow, cutting through the air like daggers. He couldn't respond to this. Just stared at the black floor of the runway, biting his lip.

An eternity later, Wolf coughed, though it sounded fake. "She's not here now. Neither is Panther."

Fox looked up at him, mentally cursing his luck, but somehow feeling a little thankful. "When will they be back?"

"This evening. They're out on a recon mission on Venom." Fox wasn't sure how he had reacted to this, but it made Wolf point to himself. "Somebody has to stay behind and make sure nobody screws everything up."

Fox again cursed his luck. Then, he remembered the way Wolf had mentioned Panther, and that made him ask, "Are they close? Krystal and Panther."

Wolf snorted. "Are you kidding? She hates him."

Fox felt a jolt of smug self-satisfaction at that. But then his eyes fell down to the runway floor again, and he realized how stupid he felt, and even more, how stupid he must appear to be. Just fly into your arch-rival's base for a visit, ask how the team's doing, then what? Just wish them good day and go on your way?

"Why don't you stay for a bit?"

It took him by surprise—so much that he flinched and his head snapped up to look at Wolf, who recoiled.

"Sheesh, I'm not asking you to spend the freakin night. When someone pops in, aren't you supposed to invite 'em in?"

"Yeah, but..."

"You flew in here like we're best buddies and you won't say more than two words unless you're asking about Krystal. Only an idiot wouldn't be able to figure it out."

Fox couldn't force himself to make eye contact. For a few minutes, there were only the sounds of the Sargasso employees and the machinery running in the background. Ordinarily, he might be curious as to what was going on in the place, but he couldn't bring himself to look for anything beyond the face value. His eyes found the floor again, and he waited for Wolf to continue.

"I'm not an idiot, pup. I know what's going on, and I don't like this. What'll people think if I tell them that"—he pointed at Fox—"is my rival?"

Fox could tell that Wolf was trying to put on an act of selfishness, and he wasn't doing a very good job at it. Still, he was unable to think of anything with which to respond.

When Wolf spoke his voice was softer, and Fox had to strain to hear him over the noise. "Why don't you call her?"

Fox frowned, shivering and hugging himself, noticing the cold for the first time. "She's on a mission. I don't want to disturb her. It'd be the worst time to..." He couldn't finish the sentence. He didn't even know what he wanted to do. He just wanted to see her in person again.

"Stay here, then. Wait for her."

Fox reached up to scratch his ears. "Why are you so eager to help?"

"It's no skin off my bones. You're so wimpy that you couldn't hurt me out your ship even if you tried." The older canine's eye darted across Fox's body. "And in your condition, I don't think I'll have to worry about that."

"What if I find something illegal and report it to the police?"

"Would you really do that?"

Fox regarded him strangely for a few seconds. "No, I wouldn't." Now that he thought about it, Fox wasn't sure why he had been arguing in the first place. Star Wolf was being of such great aid to the government that they would probably let them get away with just about anything. Besides, Wolf was right; he wouldn't report anything. They fought with ships, not with politics... and maybe that was the reason behind the other's hospitality.

"Sure," he said bitterly. "I'll stay."

Wolf motioned for him to follow. "Then let's at least get out of this huge place."

Fox followed the other. Wolf led him up several steep inclines until they were at the top of the room. He had a brief flashback to that day not too long ago when he was storming the place. Contrasting that with his current leisurely pace, he felt silly.

Hell, this entire thing was silly. What had possessed him to come here? Search as he might, he couldn't find any answers.

Soon enough, they were out of the main room and into a narrow corridor which bent frequently at right angles. There were doors at regular intervals, but they had passed at least ten of them before Wolf stopped at one. He pressed a combination into the keypad so quickly that Fox couldn't be sure of a single digit. The door slid open with a soft whir and clicked shut.

Fox peered inside, but couldn't see anything in the dark. Several different scents assaulted his nostrils, and he was immediately able to pick out Wolf's musky scent as the strongest. He looked at Wolf, who gestured inside with both arms. Figuring that he didn't really have a cause to be worried, he stepped into the darkness. If he had seen himself do this a week ago, or if any of his teammates had been here to witness him do it, he knew the reaction would be outrage and disbelief. But all it gave him was a slight hesitation.

Once he was inside, of course, Wolf flipped on the lights, and Fox saw that he had nothing to be worried about. It was a lounge, or maybe a break room. There was a living-room furniture set clustered around an older television which was still new enough to have the holographic projector jutting out of its top. Amidst all this, there was a glass table with a few empty mugs resting on coasters. That was the room's centerpiece, and on its outer edge, there was a single lifeless computer, a refrigerator, and several bookshelves.

"Make yourself at home," Wolf mumbled. "I don't care what you do as long as you don't break anything."

Fox made his way over to the couch and lay down on it, awkwardly taking off his shoes and putting them under the table. He looked at Wolf, who hadn't moved; he was still leaning with one leg against the wall, watching Fox.

"What?" Fox said.

"Nothing." He waved a hand as if he were dismissing something. "There're drinks in the fridge and tons of Panther's trashy romance novels here if you're into that stuff."

Fox sat up. "You're not staying?"

"I have other stuff to do," Wolf said. "Paperwork and boring crap like that."

Fox couldn't believe that Wolf was about to leave him here alone. "Do it in here," he said.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Wolf just frowned. He seemed to find something interesting on the wall, because his eyes were following something over there that Fox couldn't see. Then, he cleared his throat and said, "I'll send in Krystal when she gets here, okay?"

Fox nodded. Wolf lingered there for a minute or so before he stepped out, the door whirring and clicking shut behind him.

Neither of them said anything when Wolf came back in ten minutes later, carrying a stack of papers and sitting down beside Fox, crouching over the table with a pen.