Alex had his phone out, a web page he'd been looking into last night on display, but he'd hardly paid it any attention. Instead, his attention drifted to Sarah, his coworker nervously playing with the brightly-decorated card in her hands as the line in front of her steadily shrunk.

Part of him was enjoying the view, sure, his eyes occasionally straying places he didn't want to admit, but overall his focus was firmly on the card in the girl's hands. It hadn't been in a wallet or anything, Sarah producing it after rooting around her pocket for a second. Come to think of it, whenever she'd bought something with cash, she'd fished that from her pockets as well.

She didn't have a wallet, then? Alex… wasn't sure what to make of that, really. Plenty of people his age didn't have much experience with money, but that was on a level he hadn't seen before.

The line in front of her had disappeared now. Sarah tensed, giving Alex the impression of a rookie soldier in a war movie before she marched towards the register. Her order echoed off the ceiling and windows around her, Sarah's forced confidence overwhelming the sounds of conversation and the ancient pop song echoing over the speakers. If Alex didn't see her, he wouldn't have doubted her at all.

A smirk crept into his features. It seemed like she'd heard of 'fake it 'till you make it.' Considering she was a refugee, he supposed being able to pull off a strong act would be a useful skill. Still, how often did she put on a strong face when she needed help? Hopefully she knew to ask if she needed it.

The smirk disappeared. Sarah wouldn't even let him buy her lunch without returning the favor. He kind of respected that, but his coworker could be in serious trouble and nobody would know until it was too late.

The tension in Sarah seemed to culminate as she handed the card over to the cashier. Hands gripped the counter's shelf as she braced, seemingly petrified as the high-schooler who'd replaced her scanned the card. Only when the card was handed back to her did she relax, grabbing the receipt and flashing Alex a relieved smile as she stepped away from the cashier. She had been afraid the card wouldn't work, then. Alex's theory of his mysterious friend being unfamiliar with money had been reinforced.

A pang of regret returned, reminding him that he'd lead her to be in that situation. If he hadn't tried so hard to get her to enjoy 40k, she wouldn't have splurged on a Valkyries starter set, meaning Sara would have had the money for food this week. It had been why he'd offered to buy her lunch in the first place.

He knew it wasn't his fault, of course, Sara's decisions were her own, but he had helped create the mess Sarah had been in. Alex had tried to help her through the tough times, but like some old farmer, Sarah had made it pretty clear she'd refuse charity…

A paper bag suddenly landed on the table in front of him, Sarah bouncing into the chair across from him.

"Thank you for claiming a table, Alex." She smiled, her bag rustling as she slid an eager hand into it.

"It was no problem." he deflected, his brow raising slightly as he realized what kind of drink she'd brought. "Getting yourself a milkshake?"

"I think I've earned it." She purred, peach fingernails highlighting both her porcelain hands and the vanilla shake they wrapped around. "Oh, right!"

Alex's drink- just some water, as he knew he'd be having plenty of soda tonight- slid across the table. After his thankful nod, he dug into his own meal. Sarah's lips snapped around the straw, her eyelids closing in transparent bliss as the straw turned white.

"You like milkshakes, then?" He asked, taking a mental note.

"Yeah!" She chirped, nodding. "I've enjoyed anything with ice cream so far."

"Can't go wrong with that." He agreed, nostalgic memories of his own gliding through his thoughts as he unwrapped his chicken sandwich. "So, you just prefer vanilla, or…"

"No!" She objected. "I've liked all the flavors I tried! It's just that Mother always just gave us vanilla…"

As she trailed off, gaze becoming distant, Alex felt his interest perk up. Sarah had mentioned her before, and clearly was fond of her, but this was the first actually good thing he'd heard about 'Mother' so far.

"What was she like?" He asked, before suddenly realizing how little thought he had put into the question. Thankfully, she seemed to take it well, recollection relaxing her face and posture.

"She was always calm, composed." Sarah recounted, her meal ignored. "I don't think I ever saw her lose her temper. She's always been happy to tell us stories from her time in the Navy, and would make the time to listen to us if we had a problem. Never beat us, like-" she caught herself from saying something- "like I've heard has happened in some families.

"She…" skin around her mouth and eyes suddenly tightened as she trailed off. "She didn't think the abyssals were going to make it to us. Kept reassuring us that they'd be stopped by nuclear weapons..."

"I'm sorry…" He said, feeling shallow. He didn't know enough about the war to say anything about her mother's nuke opinion, but if it an armageddon would come it had clearly been too late for Sarah. To his surprise, Sarah chuckled.

"Didn't I already tell you not to be?" She asked, "You didn't do anything…"

A retort, something about being thankful he was able to meet her, started to form in Alex's mind, but it felt like it would have been in poor taste, and fell apart in the back of his throat.

For a few minutes, the pair ate in silence. The mood was as terrible as the food, and Alex didn't want to end the lunch break there, so he decided a topic change was in order. He'd been planning on addressing this during the break anyway.

"So…" he started again, looking away from his now half-finished burger. "You know what paints we're getting tonight?" He asked. Hopefully, if he knew what paints Sarah needed, he could contrive an excuse to buy them himself. If Sarah hadn't gone for an American fleet, like he had, then he had plenty of warhammer figures that could use a coat of paint.

"Uh… black?" His coworker said, suddenly confused. "White, as well, and maybe-"

Alex couldn't keep himself from a dark chuckle, cutting Sarah off with a raised finger.

"Oh, you sweet, summer child." He started, happy to be on a lighter topic. "Do you need Rotten White, Dead White, Arctic White, or an off-white like Heavy blue gray?"

Sarah's eyes widened, a small 'O' growing on her lips as she pondered the question.

"I need white." She finally asserted. "Which one of those is the most white?"

"It's not that simple." He stated, "Both your hands and your milkshake are white, for example, but they're still different shades of white."

Sarah's hands twitched when Alex mentioned them, and he quietly cursed himself. Of course a refugee from abyssals would be sensitive about having pale skin!

"...okay." Sarah acknowledged. "What paint do I pick?"

"I don't know either." Alex admitted, picking his phone up with his free hand. "I'll look up a guide..." A new tab was ready, Alex's thumb hovering over the keyboard. "...which set did you get?"

His coworker's gaze abruptly fell to the table, the now-empty milkshake producing an unproductive slurrp as she probed for some sweet dregs.

"Sarah?"

"...al carrier group." She mumbled, giving up on the milkshake.

"Carrier group?" Alex echoed.

"Abyssal carrier group." She clarified.

…

God damn it, he was trying to steer away from that topic!

"...Okay." He replied, not really knowing how to respond to the revelation. "I'll see what we'll need to paint those."

Why would she want a bunch of her family's killers, in miniature? Like many of the mysteries whirling around Sarah, Alex already knew an answer to the question wouldn't be coming any time soon. Maybe it was just some kind of 'confront your fears' thing, or a chance to exert some control over them, or something. He wasn't a psychologist.

It didn't stop him from wondering, though. Another reason to get to know her, then...

Alex bit his lip, sighing as he surveyed the battlefield. Directly in front of him, The Order of the Gilded Rose had deployed, their holy banners and burgundy-gold armor imposing themselves between the enemy and himself. On the other side of the feudal-style cottages, plastic trees, and poorly-defined objective markers, lay a wall of death, clad in tan-and-gray armor, thundering treads, and thick, brutal-looking guns.

The Armageddon Steel Legion was barreling towards his Covenant. They were headed by the indomitable, steel-klawed Commissar Yarric, and behind him, the significantly less-threatening Sarah. The army was another loan from Dustin, a solid two-thousand pointer that easily matched Alex's homebrew order of Sororitas.

In its owner's hands, the sheer weight of steel would be overwhelming, but Sarah wasn't as experienced or as… tactically-obsessed as Dustin was. If he'd been fighting him, Alex would have been using the army list he'd specifically designed to counter the legion: an extra weapons squad in the form of retributors and carrying as many anti-tank multi-meltas as they could. However, Sarah neither had experience with this army, the guard, or 40k in general, so he'd stuck with a bit more of a general list. Every model had the stats for the weapon they were actually carrying, but since he still wanted something that could counter those tanks, he'd clustered all of his armored nuns with melta's into one of his retributor squads. Everyone else would just have to rely on their krak grenades, heroes, and miracle dice until his tank killers could work along the opposing line of armor.

He knew where they would start, too. Sarah's battle line looked impressive to an untrained eye, but he could tell it hadn't been arranged with a focus on tactics. In the center and to the rear, the melee-centered Yarric sat cocooned in a chimera APC, flanked by a pair of sentinel scout walkers. In front of the command group, the rest of the APCs were lined in front of them, in two distinct groups. Finally, at front and edges of the formations, the leman russ tanks sat alone and spread apart.

To be honest, it reminded him more of those ship formations he'd seen on the news then any armor tactics.

As Sarah took the first turn, gloved fingers sliding the borrowed armored vehicles across the table like they priceless hierlooms, the opportunity only grew. The armored horde beelined for the objectives, sticking to their rigid formation, with two exceptions: The chimeras carrying mortar teams hung behind, advancing just enough to deposit their crews to threaten the entire table. An annoyance for his sisters, sure, but not one that his jump-pack laden Seraphim couldn't deal with once he'd punched a hole in Sarah's lines.

More importantly, though, was what Sarah did with her tanks. The leman russ on the left flank remained stubbornly glued to the edge of the table, hovering just on the edge of his retributor's kill range. Clearly, she'd meant to keep the tank safe for one more turn, but as he mentally measured the distances, he slowly realized his friend had miscalculated.

Well, if he didn't punish her for this, Sarah would continue to rely on bad habits, wouldn't she? He'd be doing her a favor by destroying her in this battle!

"Okay." Sarah sighed, her attacks complete. She tensed, searching the battlefield for the mistake she seemed certain she'd made. "I think it's your turn."

"Alright," he nodded, sliding his measuring tape out with dramatic finality. It was time to show her where those mistakes were.

The squad of retributors lunged forward, placing a cottage between themselves and the bulk of Sarah's force. The fight that would decide the game would be as uneven as he could make it. The rest of the moves he made were secondary: everyone else just needed to hold Sarah off the objectives until his retributors could roll up the line with his meltas. The rest of the sisters had enough AP to secure a few vehicle kills, sure, especially with the aid of a few miracle dice, but the main show would be firmly on the left edge of the table.

He saved the obliteration of the unfortunate Russ, and a handful of miracle dice he'd need, until the end of his attack turn to build suspense. To her credit, Sarah seemed to have spotted the blunder, biting her lip as her eyes nervously flitted towards the vulnerable tank and the Sororitas' bolters harmlessly splashed against the rest of her armor. A pang of sympathy undermined his flair for the dramatic, and when it came time to roll for the multi-meltas, he did so with little fanfare. The leman russ was quietly removed from the table, and it was once again Sarah's turn.

She sighed, crystalline eyes studying the squad of retributors that had just thrown a wrench into her plans.

"So…" She started, the gears shifting in her head almost audible as she ran through her limited knowledge of the rules. "...remember that last game, with Cameron?"

"Yeah?" He asked, suddenly confused. Was she about to drop artillery onto a melee again? He'd point out that it was technically illegal, if there was any melee combat happening in the first place.

"He did something called a 'Charge phase,' right?" She asked, and Alex's spirits abruptly dropped as he traced her gaze over to the Sentinel scout walkers. "How do I do that?"

…No! Just as Sarah's late leman russ had been just on the edge of the weapon squad's melta range, the retributors he was relying on to carry this game were just within the movement range of the gangly scout walkers, and their… What kind of melee rating did they have? Dustin had never used them in that role when he'd been commanding this army. On top of that, there was no point in activating the fire overwatch stratagem, because there was a house between the sentinel and all of their meltas!

And so, he watched in embarrassment and shame as an AT-ST knockoff proceeded to start eliminating his elite retributors by unceremoniously stepping on them. He'd been tricked, Sarah's disposition stoking his confidence until it was far too late. Either he'd been terminally blinded by hubris, or there was one hell of a mind behind that porcelain face.

As he watched Sarah disembark the ork-klawed commissar and his command squad towards the melee, followed by the second walker, Alex decided that it was probably a bit of both.

After the game, which he'd just barely been able to rescue by ignoring losses and gaining just enough objective points, he felt more than a little exhausted. Instead of starting another game, the pair bought the paints and washes they'd needed for tomorrow. After Alex failed to pay for Sarah's supplies, the two joined in spectating Dustin and Cameron's game, the latter joking that he was in trouble now that 'The Commissar' had arrived.

He had still won, of course. Dustin's armies were always built for flavor rather than the meta, and unlike Sarah, he wasn't willing to drop artillery onto his own conscripts.

The night flowed to its expected end, a paper bag lined with supplies crinkling in both of their grips. He propped the door open for Sarah, nodding to her.

"Thank you for the game, Alex." She started, and her smile flashing in his vision like burning phosphorus. "I'll make sure to win next time."

"T- Thank you." he stammered, the bravado he'd felt on the tabletop suddenly evading him.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" Sarah called, looking over her shoulder as she pivoted away from his vehicle and started walking… away, somewhere.

"You sure you don't need a ride home?" The question escaped from his lips before he'd really considered it.

Like a dropped mirror, the smile on Sarah's face seemed to crack.

"Thank you, but you don't have to do that."

And with that, she turned, leaving Alex fumbling with a way to keep her a little longer. For a collection of moments, he simply watched her go, her amazon form swaying away from him as she moved north.

An urge from beneath his subconscious tugged at his thoughts, a primal sense of… something forcing his eyes to linger. Hairs on the back of his neck started to push against his shirt. This wasn't lust, although the feeling was just as primitive. Something in his lizard brain had triggered an alarm, and his actual thoughts hadn't caught up with him. What was wrong?

Then, as Sarah turned a distant corner and disappeared, it clicked. They were over three miles north of the Jack in the Box, and the home she was walking towards was even further north. Just how early did she get up to get to work on time?

He shook his head, walking back to the car. It just… didn't add up. Was this a 'I don't want to be indebted to anyone more than I have to' moment, and Sarah just didn't think she needed a ride home, or another 'fake it 'till you make it' situation, and she didn't actually have a home?

He hardly noticed the thunk of the car door as he closed it behind him, his keys idly turning in his hand as he stared at the ignition.

For a moment, the urge to bring the car to life, jump onto Sarah's trail like a kid detective in an old pulp novel, and finally get to the bottom of The Mystery of The Porcelain Commissar was overwhelming... but following her would be really creepy, wouldn't it?

He sighed, worry trailing him as he pulled the car out of the lot and turned south. He'd have to think of some polite, but probing questions to ask her tomorrow. If Sarah had a problem, perhaps she didn't want Alex's help…

Or perhaps she just didn't know how to ask.

Special thanks to Jessetheswift for helping make the 40k game somewhat believable...

Not much else for me to say, here. Alex is kinda fun to write, as balancing between the male gaze aspect and the mystery Trinitite provides is a unique challenge for me. Will Alex and the gang solve The Mystery of The Porcelain Commissar? Tune in next time...