Chapter 4: A Friend Is What The Heart Needs
Aylin abruptly pushed herself into a sitting position, gasping as the effort left her abdomen stinging. Her hand grappled the sheet she'd been laying upon and she looked down, noting the bed. Her eyes grew wide. How long had she been out? Had they been captured?
She quickly glanced about the dimly lit room, though she saw no sign of Rocinante. Had he cut and run after all? Or had they killed him?
There wasn't time to waste. Aylin all but threw herself off the bed, staggering across the room and falling against the door. Her hands gripped the cold knob and she paused momentarily to listen for any sign of the enemy. Hearing nothing but the sound of her own stifled breaths, she pulled the door open and quickly peered into the hall.
Nothing to the left, nothing to the right. A flight of stairs was just ahead. Light reflected off the gray metal, indicating these stairs led up to the deck.
Aylin gritted her teeth, one hand fumbling for the pouch strapped to her thigh. Her fingers wrapped around the cool metal handle of a throwing knife as she slowly advanced into the hall, hobbling toward the stairs. She reached for the railing, clutching it for support as she began to ascend the steps without making a sound, watching the top closely.
She was about halfway up when she picked up the sound of footsteps approaching. Someone was coming. Aylin tightened her grip on the knife, drawing back her arm. A moment later, a figure appeared at the opening, blocking the light and casting a shadow onto the stairwell.
Aylin's lips curled into a snarl. She would rather die than let these bastards take her! A foot appeared, and the redhead shot forward to slice the owner's kneecap.
"Lin!"
She stopped short, emitting a surprised gasp as the knife clattered to the step at her feet just moments before she could unwittingly bury it into her comrade's flesh. She floundered for words for a moment before she finally stammered, "Oh...I...I thought..." Aylin shook her head, as if to clear the haze from her mind. "Rocinante, what's going on?"
His face softened. "Lin…" He smiled and then helped her the rest of the way up the stairs. "We made it! I stole the ship for you and those buffoons didn't even realize it! Haha! I was able to weigh anchor due to all this nice marine technology! I was just coming to check on you…you shouldn't be moving around so much!"
Aylin only grunted in reply as they made their way up to the deck. She did have to admit to herself that she was pleasantly surprised that he'd been able to do so much on his own, given his clumsy tendencies.
Seagulls called to each other overhead as the salt-tinged wind blew across the deck. Rocinante had only supported Aylin on their way to the infirmary, but after she stumbled more than once, he figured her pride would just have to take the hit and he carried her the rest of the way.
He placed Aylin on the cold metal examination table and began rummaging through all the drawers of the cabinets in the room that held the supplies. They were shut tightly and bolted to the floor to accommodate shipboard life.
"Aha!" He pulled out a small box that was filled with antiseptic cleaning solutions, cotton balls and bandages. "Um…" The tall man flushed a dark red and averted his eyes. "Could you…lift your shirt a bit? I need to clean that wound… You don't…think you have any broken ribs, do you?"
"No, I don't think so," Aylin replied. One of her hands began undoing the buttons of her blood-soaked shirt, while she used the other to support her weight. He was very awkwardly staring at an apparently interesting spot on the wall, and she probably would have laughed at that if she could have done so without doubling over in pain. At least he had the decency not to leer at her partially undressed state.
She let the shirt fall to the floor, glancing down to take stock of her wounds. The one on her shoulder was the most superficial, a long scratch at best. The two on her abdomen were the worst; one elongated slash across her midsection and a stab wound to the right of it.
Aylin touched them gingerly, blood coating her trembling fingers as she whispered, "Bastard missed my vitals, I think... Lucky me."
Rocinante cleared his throat, almost tripping as he strode closer to her with the bandages. He was trying not to look at her, but he realized that he would have to for the sake of tending to her wounds. He'd also brought over a number of white cloths, and he doused them in antiseptic solution as he got on his knees next to the table.
"I'm sorry," he said with a completely apologetic look at the woman as he began very carefully cleaning the cuts and gashes.
She winced a few times throughout and he always tried to stop and give her a little break between each wound. Soon all of her cuts and gashes were cleaned and he began applying the bandages as tightly as he dared.
"That one looked pretty bad, Lin…I hope this ship makes better time than that old one we sailed over here on. I think you really need stitches…" His face was a mask of concern and he hoped she didn't mistake it for pity or him thinking that she was weak.
"I've had worse," she remarked softly, sitting rigidly as possible as he taped the bandages in place.
"I'm really glad it wasn't worse, though…and those guys turning on us like that…what's going to happen now? Don Fettuccine will never get his cargo. What if he retaliates? Is there some kind of protocol you guys use for this type of situation?"
Aylin pursed her lips. "Those mercs...it could be that they made a deal with an enemy of the Alfredo Family. Someone must not have wanted him to get whatever was in that stash. It happens sometimes... Scarlet made a bad call. But you're right, Fettuccine probably will retaliate. When a guy like him doesn't get what he wants, well...things don't end happily."
Her hands balled into fists at her sides. She didn't quite know how Blackburn would react to hearing of this unfortunate turn of events, and she couldn't help but wonder if the blame would be pinned on her regardless of whose fault it had been.
Aylin's gaze fixed upon Rocinante as he sat back on his heels, meeting his eyes as he chanced a glance up at her once she had pulled her ragged shirt back on.
"Hey..." She leaned forward as much as she was able. "You know, some might say you did a really stupid thing back there. You...you could have gotten yourself killed... The smarter thing would have been to just leave me." She stared hard into his eyes, still unable to figure him out. Anyone else in this business would have done just that, and she wouldn't have thought twice about it. That's just the way things were.
Rocinante stared back for a long moment."How…how could you think I'd ever…?" The words died on his lips as he remembered that she didn't know him. She didn't know what kind of person he really was. Maybe she couldn't ever really know. The double agent thing was truly taxing and had to be kept a secret, after all.
But the way she so easily accepted that anyone else would have just turned their back, it sent a pang of hurt through his chest, along with the fact that she wasn't able to trust anyone. Hell, she probably didn't have any friends either if that was her true outlook. Should he ask? Should he keep quiet?
One thing was for certain; people didn't come out of something like that together without forming some kind of bond. What they both really seemed to need was a friend. He would probably have to keep lying to her, of course...but she seemed different than the rest of them. He knew there was more to her under that hardened exterior. Maybe he could get to know her little by little. Maybe she even trusted him somewhat after the whole ordeal.
He turned back to meet her gaze. "It was the right thing to do, Lin…and it makes me sad that you seem to believe beyond the shadow of a doubt that anyone else in the world would have left you for dead."
Aylin returned his look with a grim smile. "Nobody's ever proven me wrong before." For a fleeting moment, he could have sworn he saw a glimmer of sadness in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant as she shrugged one shoulder and continued, "It's just the way things are. Self-preservation is priority in this business. But for what it's worth...thank you. I really owe you one for today."
"Owe me?" He echoed. "But I was just doing what any decent person would…" The look she gave him at that told him that she'd pretty much never met any decent people. He felt a coldness settle into the pit of his stomach and pledged to himself then and there he would prove to her that decent people did exist in this world, and he could be counted among them. Even the success of his undercover mission wouldn't stop him from that; he could surely find a way to help her escape from all of this.
Rocinante began digging through the medical kit again, looking for some pain killers. He found a few, handed a couple to Aylin and stood back up, smacking his head against the ceiling. "Ow! Ehehe… I'll go get you some water…"
Aylin shook her head in partial amusement as she watched him head toward the sink on the opposite side of the room. It was only then that she noted the stains of red coating the back of his shirt. Her brow furrowed. The front of him was covered in blood, but she had assumed most of it had come from her. This, however...
"Rocinante, stop." She slid off the table, striding toward him as best she could in her current condition. He turned toward her, a questioning look on his face, and she continued, "Your shirt. Take it off."
He froze, turning around almost robotically, his eyes wide and his face red once again. "Wh…wh...wh...wh…come again?"
Aylin's reply was almost accusatory. "You're injured. When were you going to say something about it? Come on." She motioned for him to come closer to her level and then her tone softened a bit. "Let's see the damage."
"Oh…" Rocinante met her eyes as he lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged in front of her. "I…wasn't going to say anything about it…" He folded his arms over his chest and broke eye contact for a minute, then looked back up at her as he reached for the first button on his shirt. "Can you…not look at me so intently while I do this?" The flush rose in his face again.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes, having not realized the intensity of her gaze. Still, she complied and instead went to retrieve the medical kit nearby. By the time she'd returned with it, Rocinante had tossed his bloodied shirt aside and was waiting patiently, leaning slightly forward with his elbows resting on his legs.
Aylin blinked in surprise as she got a good look at him, nearly faltering in her footsteps. Not only could she see the wounds inflicted on him earlier that day, but also the evidence of several others he'd apparently received in the past...all the scars carved into his body told her as much.
Her shock wore off after a moment and she returned to the task at hand. Saying nothing, she circled him once, taking note of all his injuries. There were a few superficial gashes on his chest, though she'd been right in assuming most of the blood on the front of his shirt had come from her own injuries.
A pang of guilt tugged at her chest as she stepped around him to take a look at his back. Multiple bullet wounds decorated his musculature, most of them still actively bleeding. Aylin frowned as she inspected them more closely. He must have been shot while his back was to the marines...while he was rescuing her... It had all seemed like such a blur. She didn't even remember hearing the sound of gunfire.
How crazy! She couldn't understand why he would risk his life to help her. What could he gain from it? They were practically strangers. What reason could he possibly have for wanting to help her? Aylin wasn't sure if she felt more angry or remorseful.
"I'm going to see if I can dig some of these out. Might hurt a little." She pursed her lips and set to work, using a pair of sterile thumb forceps from the first aid kit. After a moment, she spoke again, trying to fill the silence and simultaneously distract him from the pain. "So were you just planning on letting me know about this once you'd passed out from blood loss?"
"Would you punch me in the wounds if I said yes?" He looked over his shoulder at her, using every ounce of his willpower not to flinch and show the pain her actions were taking on his face.
A few more moments of silence and he started up again. "But thank you, Lin…I really wasn't looking forward to digging those out myself…as you can see from the scars on my back, I sometimes do a slipshod job of patching myself up, but at this point I count myself lucky I still have both arms! You know...I think we make a pretty good team. Getting stabbed in the front and then the back…and still making it out on top." A small smile formed on his lips as he kept his breathing nice and even.
"Yeah, well, it's too soon to be celebrating. I don't imagine Blackburn will be very sympathetic upon receiving the mission report." She nearly groaned inwardly, remembering that it was she who would be writing the aforementioned report. She felt Rocinante flinch as she dug another bullet from beneath his skin.
Rocinante let out a long breath. "Dang, that does smart a bit. If I don't scream, do I get a lollipop at the end, doctor?" He smiled as cheerfully as the pain would allow while Aylin rolled her eyes behind him. "But really…we definitely need to get you to a doctor for that one big wound. I can get us back safely...I'll go check on the instruments when we're done here. You should get some rest, Lin."
She shook her head even though he couldn't see her. "No, I'm fine. I need to be awake in case anything happens..." She stretched out some bandages to wrap around him; he was so large that she could just barely reach around to pass the roll from one hand to the other. "Maybe if we're lucky, we'll catch up to those sons of bitches. I have a few choice words for them." A moment later she sat back, admiring her handiwork. "Well, I'm no medic, but I'd say it'll hold until we get back."
Rocinante turned his head trying to get a look over his shoulder and then patted the side of the snug bandages on his chest. "You should've gone to med school, Ms. Lin," Rocinante said in a fake drawl as he picked himself up off the floor and promptly dinged his head on the ceiling.
"Ow…they really don't ever make ceilings tall enough for me…" He rubbed the back of his head, thinking about how his brother probably would've just hacked up any ceiling that dared to touch his head unbidden. He was a real piece of work…and Rocinante had been following his exploits since the time they'd been separated. Such madness…why did he cling so hard to their origins? Did he truly believe that their so-called noble birth made them any better than anyone else born in this world? It was completely ridiculous.
And what about those goons he'd gathered around him, each with some strange kind of devil fruit power of their own…? He'd gotten their dossiers from what Sengoku's department had gleaned on the people around his brother and studied them near religiously. These people were the ones his brother had chosen, the ones he referred to now as his 'family...'
Rocinante was so lost in his train of thought that he didn't even hear the next thing Lin said to him. "Huh? I'm sorry, what? Must've hit my head harder than I thought…" He searched around for his shirt, but it was too bloodied and tattered to continue wearing, so he decided to just go without it.
Aylin's blue gaze had been settled on him while he'd been staring off into space, her expression unreadable. She sighed and shook her head. "Never mind, it's not important. Come on, let's go and make sure we're still on course."
The rest of the trip back was rather uneventful, without even a storm to mix things up. Aylin was thankful for that, at the very least. She was surprised to find that Rocinante was actually quite good at navigating the seas and could manage just fine without help. She was grateful for it, considering she was honestly too fatigued to be of any real assistance. She'd done a great job of putting on a strong front, claiming that she should remain awake in case they were attacked, but the truth of the matter was that she wasn't sure she could have fended off a toddler in her current condition. She'd lost a lot of blood and she was weak. But he didn't need to know that. He had proven himself a reliable partner, though a part of her still wasn't sure that she could trust him completely. Aylin believed that he was a good person, however she still thought his ideals were quite contradictory for a member of the Blackburn Syndicate.
Aylin had to remind herself that a person's reasoning was their own, and whatever it was that had led him down this path didn't automatically make him the same as everyone else in the business. She, of all people, ought to know that best...
Upon returning, they docked the marine ship at a port on the opposite side of Penndel as not to alarm the Syndicate. It was after dark, which made the walk through town much less conspicuous. With fewer people around, there wasn't as much to worry about as far as providing an explanation for their bloodied and bandaged states.
They arrived at the back door of the shoe factory and Aylin unlocked it, ushering Rocinante inside ahead of her. She only paused for a moment when he smacked his head on the ceiling and cursed under his breath.
At his unrelenting insistence, she allowed him to escort her to the medical bay so that Stokes, the Syndicate's doctor, could examine and stitch up her wounds. Once Rocinante's own wounds were taken care of, Aylin waved him away, citing that she would be fine and he needed to get some sleep.
Rocinante left for his quarters and Aylin, on doctor's orders, remained in the medical bay for overnight observation. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and uncertainty, unsure of what the next day would bring, but eventually her eyelids became too heavy to keep open and darkness claimed her consciousness.
oOo
This, of course, was not the first time that one of Aylin's assignments had not gone according to plan. She had been a member of the organization for the last six years, and throughout that time, she'd been part of her share of blunders. Two of the most memorable ones had been her own fault, back in the earlier days when she was still a rookie.
The way the Blackburn Syndicate handled disciplinary action seemed to her a bit unpredictable and even somewhat peculiar. Thinking back to the first time she had failed an assignment, Aylin recalled how furious Scarlet had been the day she'd been called in to report on the incident. Scarlet and the rest of the Inner Circle had condemned her to corporal punishment. Aylin had been confined to the dungeon to await the penalty, but something curious had occurred on the second day. Scarlet had personally come down and released her, uttering what sounded like grudging apologies and thinly-veiled threats as to what should happen if Aylin ever failed them again.
Not one word was ever spoken of the incident again, however Aylin was not ignorant to the face that her colleagues were often disciplined using equal methods after committing far less offenses. She had questioned the Inner Circle during their brief meetings once or twice, but always the inquiry was evaded or ignored altogether.
It gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was obviously a reason for it, and she didn't know what that was...nor did they wish for her to.
So it was with a fair amount of caution that Aylin set foot into the office the next day to give her report. The Inner Circle was silent while she spoke, watching her with scrutinizing eyes, most of them with their hands hidden from view. She described in great detail the plan she'd come up with; how she and Rocinante scouted the island, the marines they encountered, their fight with Captain Macklemore and his men, and finally how the mercenaries had taken off with all of the stolen cargo. Aylin even recounted the fight that followed and how she and Rocinante had managed to escape by stealing the marine warship.
They watched, they listened, and when she had finally finished speaking, Scarlet gave her a nod.
"I see. Was there anything else?"
"No," Aylin replied, looking her in the eye. "That's everything."
Scarlet appeared as though she wanted to remark on something else, but held back. Instead, she said, "Very well. We will take care of it from here, Red Fox." She gestured toward the door with her eyes, indicating that Aylin was dismissed.
oOo
Rocinante had gone back to work the next day after a meager four hours of sleep, as if nothing had ever happened. It wasn't as if Maynard gave a damn what he'd been through during his mission. Hell, he was annoyed that Rocinante had left him all alone with so much work. Rocinante had had to listen to a fifteen minute spiel about how difficult things had been, even though he knew Maynard was strong and capable enough to handle the workload without him around.
"Sorry…" Rocinante had mumbled, trying to look appropriately chastised even as he towered over his supervisor. He knew mentioning that his absence was due to orders would have no effect either. It would just be a stark reminder that Rocinante had been chosen for an important mission and Maynard had not.
The mind-numbing physical work that he promptly resumed gave him plenty of time to replay the failed mission's events in his head. He felt a pang every time he remembered the way that Aylin's open stab wound from Captain Macklemore had looked.
Since Maynard was so pissed off by his absence, Rocinante's lunch breaks had been limited to whatever he could cram into his mouth within a fifteen minute time span, not to mention all the extra hours and late-night shipments. And any attempt at sneaking away was always thwarted. Even using his incredible silent abilities, Rocinante was too tall, unwieldy and prone to crazy accidents.
Before he knew it, a week had passed since they'd returned. Rocinante puffed out his cheeks, determined to be able to go and check up on Aylin that day. He hoped she was okay…
He was finally able to ditch Maynard later that afternoon with an excuse about needing to use the bathroom. Coincidentally, the bathroom in the cargo wing was flooded and currently unusable, so Maynard was unable to object.
Free for the moment, Rocinante hurried down the corridors and attempted to make his way deeper into the Syndicate headquarters where he knew Aylin worked. He wasn't exactly sure where, exactly, but he figured he'd find her eventually if he just kept looking. Maybe the med bay would be a good place to start. He could ask about her wellbeing and whether or not she'd had any checkups since their arrival. Then again, that was at the risk of looking like some kind of stalker.
Stokes looked up from his clipboard as Rocinante entered the medical bay, immediately giving the young man a critical gaze. "Well, look who it is. You skipped your recheck so I just assumed you had died."
Rocinante was about to laugh and say something back when it occurred to him that the man might not be joking. Instead, he managed a bashful look. "Well, it was right back to work and you know how Maynard is…" He trailed off and shrugged one of his shoulders. "But in any case, I am sorry I missed it…" The man hadn't stopped writing in that clipboard of his after he'd taken a brief second to chastise Rocinante. "...I don't guess you're doing a mental assessment on me, are you?"
Stokes snorted. "Kid, I'm pretty sure nobody here would ever pass one of those." He set the clipboard onto the desk nearby, folding his arms as he craned his neck to look up at the blond. "No, nothing like that. It's already been over a week since the two of you came crawling back, so I figure if you're up and about, all is well. Speaking of which, if you happen to see Wild roaming around, you tell her that if she wants her antibiotics to work, then she needs to actually come and get them."
"Eh?" Roci's face fell. "I was actually here to ask you about her...you see, I haven't seen her. I have no idea where to look! Hey, could you give me those antibiotics? I'm sure I'll eventually find her and I can give them to her for you." Rocinante idly wondered if all of this was making him look too goody-goody and immediately donned a more serious face."You know…because I have some unfinished business with her as well. Strictly business, strictly…" He examined his fingernails for effect and then picked a rather large splinter out of his palm. "Huh…didn't even notice that until just now…" He cracked his knuckles and then his neck and then looked back down at Dr. Stokes, holding his hand out for the bottle.
"Right..." Whether or not Stokes actually bought the explanation, Rocinante couldn't tell. The man seemed to have the driest personality on the planet. A moment later, though, Stokes had grabbed a pill vial from one of the shelves on his desk and was holding it up toward the taller man. He shook it once, rattling the capsules inside. "Very well. If you're that intent on tracking her down, make sure she gets this."
He accepted it, trying really hard not to smile. His hand was itching to perform the salute that he'd practiced amongst the marines, but that would have been a very bad idea. Instead he only nodded and took off further into the building. He bumped his head on each subsequent doorway, wracking his brain to remember the path that he'd been through when he'd first come through here. He'd only seen it once, but…
Rocinante banged his way through yet another door and finally the ceilings opened up tall enough for him to stand comfortably. There were two women and one man seated at large desks in this room and the sights and smells faintly jogged his memory.
He cleared his throat albeit a bit timidly for a man of his stature. "Um…excuse me, I'm looking for Li-…er…Ms. Wild?"
Two of them paid no attention to his interruption, continuing to work among stacks of papers. One of the women eyed him critically from behind a very large book, as if his mere presence in the room was offensive.
She crinkled her nose a bit and reluctantly answered, "Wild's office is down that way, first door on the left." She pointed.
"Oh! Thank you so much!" Rocinante dashed in the direction that the woman had pointed, predictably banging his head on the door frame as he went.
He rubbed the spot on his forehead, sure that he would develop a red mark from the incessant abuse. "I really need to stop that…" He trailed off as he found Aylin's office. The door was shut tight and a small nameplate adorned the otherwise blank surface. He reached his hand out and rapped his knuckles against the wood a few times, waiting for the all clear to come in.
There was no answer.
"Lin?" He tried again, once and then once again, then sighed rather dejectedly, thinking she must have gone home for the day. He looked down at the bottle of pills in his hand and then tucked them safely away into his pocket, all the while committing the path to her office to his memory. He'd try again tomorrow…earlier, maybe.
But he had no success the next day, nor the day after that. He even tried several times the following day, which only resulted in a talking to from Maynard for his trouble. No matter what time of day he showed up, Aylin didn't seem to be around. He was starting to suspect that perhaps she was simply avoiding him, although he couldn't think of a single reason why she should be. Hadn't they gotten along well during the mission? Hadn't they made a good team? His imagination was beginning to run wild on him. He decided that if she was going to continue ignoring his visits then, well, he would simply have to break down the door and find out why.
Rocinante strode over to Aylin's office with purpose the next evening, a determined expression on his face even as his forehead cracked the doorframe while he failed yet again to duck beneath it. He raised a fist and knocked on the wooden door, then paused. As expected, there came no answer from within.
Well, he'd given politeness enough of a chance. Rocinante took a step back, turning his shoulder toward the door as if it were a battering ram. Just as he was propelling himself toward it to forcibly enter the room, the door opened from the inside.
His eyes widened comically. "What the-?!" Unable to stop in time, Rocinante could do nothing but flail his way into the room, his momentum sending him bowling into a couple of chairs and then crashing onto the floor.
A familiar female voice drifted over from the doorway. "I think that's my line! What did that door ever do to you?"
The tall blond looked up from his heap on the floor, struggling to get to his feet in embarrassment.
"L-LIN! You're here…I've, I've been looking everywhere for you…every day!" He quickly schooled his features and cleared his throat loudly as he reached into his jacket pocket. "Strictly for business reasons of course…Here." He handed her the bottle from Dr. Stokes that contained the antibiotics. "Doctor's orders…he said you'd have to take them if you wanted them to work. Oh! Right, sorry, they're antibiotics…"
Aylin eyed the bottle for a moment before reaching out to take it from him. She looked tired, as if she hadn't slept in a while. "Right... I've had a lot going on, so I guess it slipped my mind." Her gaze met his. "Was that all?"
Rocinante froze, tripping over his own tongue as he tried to think of something to say to her. Wasn't it his mission to show her what a good guy he was? Well, he wasn't just going to be a delivery boy for Stokes!
"Uh…um, ah…you…well…I admit, the pills were kind of an excuse to come see you. I wanted to see how things are going…" He broke eye contact, looking away and rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. His back was starting to ache from staying so hunched over. It seemed her office had a much lower ceiling than most of HQ.
Aylin shrugged with her good shoulder, glancing around her office a bit. "Well, I'm assuming you received word that Blackburn wasn't going to hold us accountable for what happened. I'm told they put a price on the heads of those mercenaries. In the meantime, I'm stuck with a lot of paperwork." She gestured to the massive stack on her desk.
"Actually, I meant how are you doing?"
"Oh." Aylin seemed slightly surprised by that statement, and it was another moment before she replied, "I'm fine. Everything seems to be healing pretty well. I'll be back in action before long." She offered him a small smirk at that. "And you?"
Rocinante looked relieved to hear her answer as he supplied his own. "As well as can be expected for someone so clumsy." He held up his arms like limp noodles and chuckled. "Maynard has barely let me breathe lately. I think he was jealous that I got to go on the mission instead of him…" He trailed off as she hummed in agreement.
A small pause filled the room before he started up again. "Hey…you look really tired, why don't you cut out early for the night?" Her expression decidedly said 'I'll pass,' so he followed up with, "Or if you really need to come back…just come get a cup of coffee with me first. Maybe it'll give you some energy. My treat, though you might want to wear a raincoat in case I end up spilling it everywhere…ehehehe!"
Aylin's initial thought was to decline the invitation and simply go back to work. But evidently he'd put a lot of effort into tracking her down, and furthermore, a caffeinated beverage seemed like a pretty good idea at the moment. She finally nodded. "Alright. I guess it couldn't hurt. Although with you around, maybe it could."
"Hey, I did suggest you wear a raincoat! I know the perfect place, it's right near here. I go there every morning and thankfully they still let me in! I did punch a hole through their roof with my head, but I fixed it! These hands are good for more than just destruction, you know!"
He waved for her to go ahead of him and then ducked out the door, following her out of the HQ a way he hadn't seen before. "Are you teaching me the secret passages?" Rocinante grinned down at her as he stretched his hands up as far as they would go. "Ah, feels great to be outside!"
The sun was already halfway down as they made their way to the little coffee shop. It didn't look like much; it was like a tiny shack, mostly made out of a lot of old sun-bleached wood. There was a large patch on the roof where the wood looked new. Some tables and chairs were set up outside on a small patio and a fragrant aroma was wafting out of the open window, along with the sound of musical laughter.
Rocinante held the door open for Aylin as he raised a hand to the woman at the bar. "Joann! Good evening!"
The middle-aged woman looked up from where she had been wiping the counter and slung the rag she was using over her shoulder as she waved. "Well, well, Rocinante! You're kind of late today, aren't you?" She grinned.
"Yeah! My friend here is in dire need of caffeine, ma'am! Can you bring us two espressos and a bit of cream? We're going to sit outside."
Joann nodded. "Coming right up! I'll put it on your tab. You want anything to eat with that? We have a good hearty soup that Charlie made and some croissants, but we always got those. I'll bring you a basket for the table." She winked and set to work on the espresso calling over her shoulder, "CHARLIE, BRING ROCINANTE SOME CROISSANTS!"
Aylin could just make out the affirmation of the unseen 'Charlie' as Rocinante led her back outside to one of the tables.
"I'm glad it's not too cold tonight...feels just right, actually!" Rocinante sat back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and nearly losing his balance in the process. He managed to right himself and let out a contented sigh. "You're going to love their espresso! I mean, at least I hope you do. To be honest, I'm not too sure what you do like! Was…was that wrong of me to order for you?!" Rocinante suddenly looked horrified, as if he'd committed some kind of atrocity towards her.
"Not if you're footing the bill," she replied with a slight smirk. She'd been looking around the place, noting how cozy it seemed and how Rocinante seemed so familiar with everyone who worked there; his face lit up each time an employee walked by and greeted him. He was clearly a regular customer. She'd never even known this place existed.
He looked visibly relieved, throwing back his head and laughing a bit while slamming his fist onto the table. "Oh, whew! Though really, you could order pretty much anything off the menu here and I guarantee that you would not spit it out in disgust!"
Aylin's lips curled slightly in a subtle smile as the sugar bowl jumped a bit on impact. "Good to know."
"I'm really happy you're doing well, Lin. I bet you even have a badass scar to add to your collection, I know I do!" He smiled at her happily. He was really enjoying spending time with her outside of work. It was all part of his plan to show her that not everyone in this world was holding a knife behind their back and waiting for an opportune time to stab...which was ironic, he realized, considering the position he was in.
She folded her arms on the table before her, arching one eyebrow in question. "A collection, is that what you call it?" Her mind presented her with the memory of Rocinante's scarred body and she wondered yet again how a man so young had ended up with so many of them already. "Well, mine is nothing to write home about. Few here and there... You should see Maynard, he's definitely got you beat."
Rocinante chuckled. "Maybe I should bring that up sometime, I bet it would make the old man's day to beat me at something! Not to brag or anything…I just guess I am kinda strong due to how tall I am…sometimes I wonder if I'm a mutant, but apparently it runs in the family."
Aylin snorted, "So you're telling me there are more of you running around?"
Roci's eyes widened and he held up a hand. "OH, NO, NO. I don't have any kids!" His face flushed for a moment as she snickered, probably thinking he looked too young to have had any children anyway. "At least not yet…I was actually talking about my dad and my brother…though I haven't seen my brother since I was very young." Rocinante almost immediately started slapping his forehead mentally as soon as the words were out of his mouth.
"I see...sorry to hear that," she replied sincerely, and just as he'd suspected, she didn't investigate any further than that. Moments later, the waitress came outside with their espressos and set them down at the table. Aylin nodded a polite 'thank you' while she took her cup.
Rocinante picked up his own cup and held it out towards Aylin. "How about a toast? I know it's not beer or anything, but…here's to friends!" She gave him an amused look as he clinked their mugs together. The small mug looked downright comical in his huge hands. "I usually order several of these," Rocinante admitted. "One is just never enough to caffeinate my huge body…" He scratched the back of his head for a second.
"Imagine that," Aylin remarked as she brought her mug to her lips, taking a careful sip of the hot drink. Rocinante, however, was not so cautious. She watched him gulp down the entire beverage at once and suddenly he was gasping and grasping his throat.
"HOT, HOT!" He sputtered and then stuck his tongue out as far as it would go, panting. He put the cup back down on the table and flailed, falling over in his chair with a loud thunk.
"Hnnnnnngh…"
Aylin knew that this was a regular enough occurrence even here at the coffeehouse when no one rushed outside to try and help the man.
Joann came back out, bringing a tray of soup and croissants along with several more espresso cups. Seeing the Rocinante's prone figure, she clucked her tongue. "Rocinante, did you burn your mouth again? Tsk! What did I tell you about letting your coffee cool first?"
"Shorry…" The large man picked himself up off the ground, dusting himself off as he took his proper seat again. "Shanks Joann, thish looksh great!"
Joann stifled a laugh and patted his shoulder, having to reach up to do so even when he was seated. He was so tall that his knees didn't even fit beneath the table. "You both enjoy, honey."
The redhead looked amused, watching him as he sat hunched over in his chair, a sheepish grin on his face while he reached for a croissant. Truthfully, when she had agreed to come along, she hadn't expected to actually enjoy herself. But despite the constant mishaps, she found that she didn't dislike Rocinante's company. She'd been trying to find reasons to avoid forging a friendship with him, but he was honestly the most genuine person she had ever met within the Syndicate. Still, she maintained that it was better to tread carefully. Genuine or not, she still had her suspicions about him.
She picked a croissant from the basket between them. "Don't go biting your tongue either. Should I have brought along a first aid kit?"
Rocinante crunched into his own croissant, stuffing the entire thing into his mouth after the first bite. "Mmph…" He gulped. "No need, I actually keep one in my jacket!" He winked at her and laughed to let her know he was joking. "I'm just glad I didn't set the place on fire too when I fell over…haha." Little did she know that wasn't actually a joke. "Thanks for coming out with me."
Aylin shrugged as she tore of a piece of the croissant she held in her fingertips. "Well...it was nice to get out of the warehouse for a while. I guess I haven't really spent a lot of time outside of it, otherwise I might have noticed this place before. It's got a nice atmosphere," she added with a small nod as her gaze traveled around the decor of the patio, lit up with small tea lights.
"You're a really hard woman to get a hold of, you know." He chuckled and stuffed another entire croissant in his mouth. "I was starting to think for awhile that you'd been avoiding me…" He trailed off looking away from her as one of his hands absentmindedly reached for another croissant.
He wanted her to affirm that he was incorrect in assuming that, but he also felt completely stupid about bringing it up in the first place. They didn't know each other very well and there was surely anything else they could talk about. He turned back to gaze down at her. "Sorry, that was just my own insecurity speaking. I don't have the right to claim any of your time. We're coworkers, but I meant what I toasted earlier. I'd like to be friends."
She paused as she slowly chewed on both her croissant and his proposal. Surely it couldn't hurt to have an ally among the horde of backstabbers amidst the Blackburn Syndicate. He had already proven that she could trust him to have her back...at least for now. She was unsure of his true motives, but his warm brown eyes were honest and his words were sincere. Aylin felt compelled to relent.
She sighed, sitting back in her chair, her gaze never leaving his. "Friends, eh? It's...been a while since I've had one of those." She gave him the tiniest of smiles. "Might take some getting used to."
oOo
Rocinante walked back to the cramped apartment he called home after his evening with Aylin, feeling lighter than air. He truly hoped that she wouldn't be going back to the Syndicate to continue her work, she had looked so tired, but she was a grown woman and could do as she pleased.
Rocinante was just grateful she hadn't shot him down immediately when he broached the subject of friendship. He was accustomed to rejection due to his entirely too open and kindhearted nature, and he had braced himself for it. But she, unexpectedly, had agreed.
The grin that was plastered onto his face made his landlady take pause, as it wasn't the usual exhaustion she was normally met with when he returned home.
"Miss Gretchen, hello! Isn't it a great evening?"
She cocked her silver-haired head to the side. "If you say so, Rocinante." She shook her head, but chuckled as she watched him practically skip up the stairs to his room, bumping his head on the ceiling and doorways as he went.
"Ouch…" Rocinante rubbed what was surely started to become a callus near his forehead as he entered his apartment. The ceilings were, unsurprisingly, too low for a man of his stature and the bed that the apartment had been furnished with was meant for someone half his size. He always joked to himself that he lived in a rat hole. It was the best he could do with the meager earnings he made as the lowest monkey on the rung within the Syndicate, and the marines hadn't been able to fund him more than a few thousand beli to cover his trip over.
Rocinante prepared himself for bed. The sun had gone down already and his eyes were practically begging to close. He yawned after brushing his teeth and nestled himself as much as he could into the tiny bed. Both his legs hung over the end, his feet touching the cold wood floor, but usually he was so tired that he didn't even notice and would fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
He pulled the slightly tattered blanket up to his chin, but sleep didn't come to him as instantly as he had expected it to. He found himself replaying his evening and the conversations with Aylin over and over in his head. He was happy, but at the same time, he felt like a fool. He hadn't forgotten his mission, after all.
As nice a person she was, underneath that hard exterior from being stabbed in the back so many times, Rocinante realized that she was still one of them. One of the very people he had sworn to take down. In a few months, a year, however long it took for his infiltration to become complete…she'd be arrested along with all the other members of the Blackburn Syndicate…and wouldn't that be reinforcing the betrayal that Aylin seemed to fear most?
Rocinante felt himself tear up slightly at the thought of this. How could he be so stupid?! She was a criminal…he was convinced that she was a good person, but still a criminal...and his job was to apprehend criminals. He couldn't rightfully condone anything that went on in this place. He was there to put a stop to it.
The wheels in his head kept turning. If she really was as good as his gut instinct told him she was, then perhaps when enough time had gone by, he could reveal himself to her. He could ask her to join him...and when the marines inevitably came to shut the organization down, he could vouch for her. He'd say that she helped him by providing information and keeping a low profile.
Would Aylin even agree to that? What if he just thought she was a good person and she really was just like all the rest of them?
There was so much to consider, and Rocinante felt his chest ache at the thought of her not being as decent as he hoped. No, he could sense it...and he was never wrong about these things. She'd just agreed to be friends with him. Even just that much told him a lot about her. He'd get to know her, the real her, and somewhere along the line he would make that judgment call.
Another yawn escaped him in that moment, and he finally drifted off to sleep.