Six brushed her teeth so hard her gums bled. She spat pink foam into the sink, getting rid of the very last traces of Everclear clinging onto her saliva. She had gotten up just fine that morning, with barely a hangover to speak of, but with anxiety pounding in her head, instead. She couldn't even make eye contact with Mobius in the cafeteria, she was so ashamed. Guilt hung over her like the Sword of Damocles, waiting to drop the second Miss Minutes found out about everything. They were all done for, all of them.

It was Lucky's fault. Of course it was. It was always his fault.

She quickly gathered her things, aware that she looked a mess and not caring one bit. Lucky's busted up face was going to give everything away. Miss Minutes would ask about it, and Lucky would lie, and the lie wouldn't be good enough, and she'd figure it out, and-

As Six scuttled onto the elevator, head down, staring at her shoes, a familiar, but dreaded voice came from the other side.

"Hey."

Six snuck a grudging peek at Lucky's face. It looked slightly better than she expected it to, still with bruised welts forming on his head and chin. Lucky himself looked absolutely miserable. Good. He'd punched Mobius in the face. He deserved to feel miserable. She put her head back down and shuffled her feet.

"What did Miss Minutes say?" she mumbled.

"I told her I fell and hit my head on a railing."

"Did she buy it?"

Lucky nodded slightly, looking out the window as it opened up to the gigantic foyer of the TVA. It didn't elicit the same sense of wonder, or even fearful awe, as it had before. Now, it felt like looking at a facade full of secrets and lies. She wondered just how much anyone actually respected the Timekeeper and his stupid rules.

"Well," he said with a little sigh, "Now that that's over with… we're studying tonight, right?"

Six stopped breathing for a second. A wave of anger clouded her vision.

"You… you think everything's just going to go back to normal? How? You dragged me along without even asking-"

"You wanted to go!"

She stuttered, refusing to backpedal hard enough to vindicate him. "I thought I did, maybe, after the fact, but I definitely didn't volunteer. I never, ever want to get involved in any more trouble with you, ever again."

"What more trouble is there to get into?" he asked, raising his voice. What right did he have to be mad at her? "I'm the one that has to take the blame for everything, anyway. What, do you think I'm going to rat everyone out?"

"You punched Mobius in the head," she muttered. "Who knows what you'd do?"

Lucky let his mouth hang open in genuine shock, then his expression turned into a downright scowl.

"I was trying to hit Sarge, okay Six? He was moving towards Mobius, and I thought he was going to hurt him."

"You're just insane," she whispered, coldly. She didn't know why, but part of her wanted to rile him up, wanted him to feel bad, no matter what excuses he gave. She wanted the venom in her voice to seep into his bones.

"You're a coward, Six," he sneered, turning her blood to ice. "You've always got your back to the wall, like you're terrified someone's going to snatch you up. But you know what? No one cares. There's no boogeyman. You want to creep around like a… like… something that creeps around, and hide so no one can see you. Well, people are going to see me."

"No one cares about you, either," she spat back, trying to keep her voice from breaking. "They don't care if you win fight night. You're not important, Lucky. You're nobody, just like everyone else!"

The elevator doors opened and she ran out into the foyer and through the double doors of the classroom, not looking behind her. She scurried past Sarge, who had his head down, and lowered it further as he realized it was Six behind him. She feared, perhaps, that Sarge would be twisted enough to tattle on everyone out of spite alone, but a glance at his face told another story. His expression was blank. His attitude had seemed to cool off significantly since last night, probably realizing that he'd gone a few steps too far. He didn't make any snarky remarks, didn't even look at her. Six couldn't see D-132's face from her seat, but she imagined her lips held tightly together, her brown eyes bugging out of her skull. She wouldn't tell a soul.

Lucky was the very last person to enter the classroom before the doors shut behind him. He sulked down the steps and took his seat, face burning red. Both Sarge and Lucky pretended like the other man was completely invisible.

Lucky glanced at her for only a fleeting moment, then he snarled, "What are you looking at?" just as snidely as Sarge would have. There was something nasty and rotten under that normally mischievous persona of his. She should have caught it before, should have known not to trust him from the moment he called her a 'weirdo' on the first day. Six bit her lip and upbraided herself for ever letting herself get close to him.

Now that she'd seen Lucky's true colors, and she'd lost Mobius' confidence, there was no one at all she could trust.

Their lecture that day went by excruciatingly slowly. Every minute where she could see Lucky out of the corner of her eye, scribbling notes just as furiously as Six, was like an hour of torture. If Miss Minutes gave them another paired assignment, she would run out the doors and die right there in the foyer.

After what felt like an entire thirty-six hour day, the lecture was over. She squeezed past Lucky and Sarge, being one of the first trainees to make it out the door. No one followed after her, asked her to slow down. When she made it back to BQ6, she went to her room, found her flashcards-the ones Lucky had drawn color coded outlines on-and studied. Alone.

The next few days went by in about the same fashion. Six would wake up from terrifying nightmares she couldn't remember, grab something for breakfast while avoiding everyone she recognized, go to class and ignore Lucky, then run back to her room to study, perhaps sneaking out much later to grab another bite to eat when the cafeteria was nearly empty. Six was losing huge chunks of sleep from the nightmares, but she simply kept chugging along by replacing sleep with nasty, black coffee. She treated herself like a studying machine. She'd even occasionally forget to eat, sending herself to bed, miserable, on an empty stomach, like a punishment for a crime she'd never committed. Her nightmares, though they slipped through her brain like a sieve the second she woke up from them, seemed as if they were actually trying to tell her something, even if she couldn't remember what it was. The only thing that stuck was a feeling, a jolt to her bones that could be summed up in a simple phrase:

Get out.

Six ignored it as best she could. How would she eat if she simply… left? Where would she sleep? Where was there to go? Even if she'd somehow miraculously escaped through one of the hunter's timedoors, they'd find her instantly again. She tried to scold herself every time the thought came up, but it seeped back into her mind, anyway, like a persistent drip of water, torturing her.

Test day came. Everyone chattered excitedly outside of the classroom doors, looking over their notes one last time. Everyone but Six. She had been ready and waiting for that day all week. She had cleared her mind of absolutely anything else, so that her studies could take over the part of her mind threatening to go completely senseless with anxiety and rage. She was no one. Nothing. Just a mote of dust that had memorized every meaningless facet of the TVA.

Her body rocked slightly from side to side, though she didn't even realize it at first. She forced herself to stop before someone noticed.

Miss Minutes' voice came over the speakers. Six, her brain riddled with coffee and repressed dread, could hardly comprehend anything she was saying.

"Good morning, trainees!" she boomed cheerfully, the exact same way she'd done every single day. The trainees answered, then went totally silent. "I hope y'all are ready for your first big test! Go to your computers, answer the personality questions first, then move on to the knowledge questions, which are a mix of multiple choice and typed answers. Y'all will have the entire class period to finish. Cheatin' is strictly prohibited, though I shouldn't have to tell y'all that by now. Anyone caught copyin', passin' notes, or any other form of cheating will be severely punished."

Six took a fleeting glance at Lucky, whose expression was as calm as she'd ever seen it. He didn't look her way. He hadn't since the day after fight night.

"When y'all are done, you're allowed to leave early, just don't make a racket out in the foyer! Okay, y'all ready?"

The class murmured a hesitant affirmative, and the doors opened wide for them.

As yellow text popped up on her little orange computer, Six forced herself to breathe, forced herself to think that everything was going to be fine. It didn't matter anyway. As long as she didn't do so badly that she got tossed into maintenance like a bag of garbage.

She flew through the personality section, which were just a bunch of stupid hypothetical situations and banal questions with sliding scale answers.

You enjoy being challenged.

You have lots of friends and like to talk to everyone.

You are sensitive, and get upset easily.

Six hesitated, then changed her answer on the last question from 'definitely true' to 'definitely false'. There was no need to get too truthful.

The technical questions came next, and Six barely needed to think about them, finding that the correct answers came to her nearly as quickly as the personality test.

How many gigawatts of power does the TVA's cold fusion energy system produce every day?

Two hundred and twelve.

There are tiny, carbon-based creatures hiding in the archives, chewing on important files. Which is the most appropriate department to deal with this problem?

Maintenance.

You find a purple infinity stone, without a container or housing of any kind. Which infinity stone is it and is it safe to touch outside of the TVA?

Power stone, and no… unless you wanted to die instantly.

Do you know who Lucky really is? Do you know who you are?

Six gasped slightly, blinking at the last question on her screen. No, that's not what it said. Of course not. The letters seemed to rearrange themselves between blinks.

Which machines do analysts use to keep tabs on the timeline?

She chose 'chronomonitors' and moved on quietly, though she could still feel her heart beating in her ears.

Six continued on, breezing through every question, until a bit of movement caught the corner of her eye. Lucky, sitting with one leg crossed at the knee, was lifting up the hem of his pants every minute or so, then tugging it back down and going back to his test. She leaned over just a smidge, intrigued. Lucky lifted his pant leg again, revealing that he'd scribbled dozens of notes all over his ankles.

Somehow, as angry as it made her, she wasn't surprised. What gave him the right? He thought he could get away with anything at all? He couldn't have sat down and studied until his brains fell out, like she had? Lucky had placed the final straw on her back, and she could feel the weight about to break her.

All of a sudden, a shudder ran down Six's spine that was so strong and terrifying it made her gasp and nearly jump out of her chair. Miss Minutes appeared on top of her computer, arms crossed in irritation.

"Is there a problem, L-63?"

"Uh…" she murmured as she caught her breath. The rest of her classmates, thankfully, were more invested in their tests than in her outburst. Lucky's eyes darted to her. He quickly put his leg down, green eyes wide, pleading with Six wordlessly.

Something trembled in the back of Six's mind. The veil-it was flickering, slipping. The world around her felt like it was melting, then congealing into the form it was supposed to have. The form that she knew, anyway.

Six was silent, trying to get a grip on herself. Her mouth went dry.

"L-63?"

Her eyes seemed unable to focus on anything: Lucky, Miss Minutes, her computer. With what remained of her senses, she chose a random answer on the very last question of her test. The screen blinked green and the narrow hole next to her computer spat out a little piece of paper.

"May I be excused?" she whispered.

"Done already?"

"Yes."

"Sure thing, hun!"

She got up, grabbed her things, and nearly ran out of the room, letting the heavy doors slam closed behind her. She paced the huge foyer like a caged animal.

There was nothing at all to be worried about. Nothing was wrong with her. She was just tired, and overworked, and angry at Lucky, and over-caffeinated, and her lungs hurt, and the world didn't make sense, and her heart wouldn't stop beating like she was going to die. But there was nothing wrong.

She took a look at the crumpled up piece of paper in her hand. It read, 'L-63: 98%'. Nothing more. It was probably the best score in the class. It didn't make her feel better. In fact, she was starting to feel worse, knowing that every move she made would be based on numbers, in quotas, in scores and times and grades and points, for the rest of her life, no matter where she would be placed. Even the identifier they'd given her wasn't a name. She was a number. She'd made herself a number, too.

Her breath caught in her throat. Six sat down with her back pressed against the cold concrete wall, holding back tears even though there was no one to see her cry. She couldn't understand why everything was making her so upset. That's just how life was in the TVA, for everyone. She wasn't special.

Tiny volts of electricity buzzed through her brain and spine, not as strongly as before, but still there, persistently zapping her every few seconds, though she couldn't guess why.

Get out.

The feeling from her dreams came back to her, so strong that she could almost touch those faded, unknowable thoughts, if she could only reach out to them somehow.

"Get out," she whispered to herself, cautiously at first, as if she was afraid it would somehow rip open her reality, the veil that concealed a world she couldn't fathom.

"Get out."

She repeated it, a little louder. Her heart began to calm, as if it was a mantra. Six said it again and again, sounding like an absolute madwoman in the empty foyer, but each time, it soothed her frazzled nerves a little more, dampened the jolts of electricity running up and down her back until they were nothing more than tiny shivers.

What if… what if there was a way to get out? As the possibility dawned on her, the zapping in her mind stopped almost instantly, and her lungs and body relaxed, feeling almost completely normal. A small smile began to form at the corners of her lips. She knew she must have looked insane. It didn't matter.

If she left through a timedoor, someone would find her, surely. The second she touched something on the other side, she'd screw up the sacred timeline and become a variant. That was too risky. But… maybe there was some other way to be free of having a career, free of tests and Miss Minute's watchful eye? The plan forming in her brain was nuts, even crazier than simply leaving, but it might actually work-until she could figure out a better arrangement, that is.

Six went back to her room and gathered as many things as she could into her small drawstring bag. She had to pack very light, only bringing one change of clothes, her toothbrush and comb, and a towel with her. There was still the question of food, though. She'd have to sneak into the cafeteria somehow. Perhaps she could scavenge from the trash chutes?

Suddenly, Lucky popped into her head. They were mad at each other then, but later on? He'd probably miss her, wonder where in the world she'd gone to. Let him wonder. She couldn't tell him or leave him a note. He'd snitch on her, if not out of spite, then to get her back.

She took one long last look at her cozy room, bidding it goodbye. As long as she never had to look at Miss Minutes' stupid face again, she could forgo a soft bed.

As Six made her way through the hallways, trying not to look suspicious while carrying her bulging pack, she started to realize that there were so many ways she could get caught the second someone saw her. Well then… all she had to do was not get caught. She finally made it to the door that she'd gone through a few days before, the one labeled 'Sub Basement: Main', and steeled herself. In order to get away from everything, Six would have to live in the one place she had hoped she'd never have to go. At least she'd be doing it on her own terms.

A badge swipe, like Mobius told them, would clue them in to where she was, once they figured out she was missing… which wouldn't take long at all. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, she knocked timidly on the door, with the pattern of five knocks, like Mobius had. No one answered. She knocked just a little bit harder. That time the door actually opened slightly, but not because there was someone on the other side. There was a flat bit of metal wedging the door open on the bottom that she hadn't noticed before. Six slid inside as quietly as she could.

The steel floor echoed her steps no matter how cautiously she tiptoed through the room. She looked around her at all the pipes and vents and signage attached to the wall. She hadn't planned exactly where she was going to go from there, only that she needed to hide, somehow. The room where fight night had been held seemed like a good enough place to hunker down. It was empty, probably some kind of storage room. As she started towards the hall that led to the ladder, the door suddenly clanked shut, making her jump. She'd apparently nudged the metal scrap away from the door on accident.

Footsteps came from down the hallway. Someone was climbing the ladder.

"Hello?" a woman's voice called out. "Hal? Is that you?"

Six held her breath, looking around frantically for somewhere to hide. The footsteps were coming closer, and quickly. There was a vent cover closeby that looked like she could wriggle out of place. She did so and squeezed inside, holding her breath so she could fit inside the narrow vent with her pack, like a standing coffin.

The footsteps were right next to her, now, stopped about where Six had opened the vent cover. She silently begged the woman standing there to not look down and notice it. The unseen woman took a few quiet steps away from Six's hiding place.

"Damn it," the woman muttered. There was a shuffle and the sound of metal on metal as she rearranged the little piece of scrap to hold the door open again. Then, her footsteps receded, going back down the hallway from where she'd come.

Six let out a sigh of relief, though now she realized there was no way she could just wander around the Viscera and expect not to be seen. As she shifted around in the tiny square vent, something metal shoved itself into her back and butt and knees, like three flat bars. Feeling behind her, it seemed that there were crude ladder steps attached to one side of the vent. There wasn't far to climb. The vent ended about six feet above, with another, larger vent connecting it perpendicularly. Six crawled into that vent as quietly as she possibly could, with her bag straps firmly across both shoulders. She squirmed through the dusty, stiflingly claustrophobic vent. There was no going back, now. The longer she stayed hidden, the more impossible it would be to face Miss Minutes, and Mobius, and Lucky, if she got caught.

Why was she still thinking about him, anyway? They'd been mad at each other for days. Six could figure this out on her own, she didn't need him. She didn't miss him one bit.

Well… she did kind of miss his goofy smile. He didn't smile at her like he used to, before fight night.

The sound of the door once again shutting itself stopped her thoughts. She quit squirming and listened closely. Footsteps again, heavier this time, cautious.

"Evette?" called Hal's voice, muffled through the vent. More footsteps followed, coming from down the hallway, where Evette had been waiting for him. There was soft laughter as the footsteps came together, and the two employees made strange sucking, smacking, groaning noises. It took a moment for Six to realize from the noises alone that they were kissing.

"Mmm. I missed you so much," Hal purred, almost too quiet for Six to hear.

"You saw me a few days ago," said Evette, her soft voice not more than a whisper.

"I know. It's not enough. It's never enough."

They were silent once more, only for the gentle shuffling of feet and ruffling of clothes, and the occasional kissing noise again.

"Let's go," said Evette suddenly, and both pairs of footsteps took off down the long hallway that led to the fight night room.

That was supposed to be her hiding place. The couple had beaten Six to it, it seemed. The vent she was crawling in went down the hallway, too. Maybe she could crawl that way and look for an opening into the room, wait until Evette and Hal were done making out to set up camp. Or maybe she could just stay in the vents and live there…

Whoever had snuck into the vent in the film archive room must have had the same idea as Six. Maybe they were a runaway, too?

Six readjusted her pack and started squirming down the vent as quietly as she could. The awkward position made her body ache, the warm air blowing around her made her sweat, and her hand would occasionally brush against something dry and fuzzy in the corners of the vents, making a shudder of disgust go down her spine. It felt like it took absolutely forever to get anywhere in the stale, pitch dark tunnel, but eventually, she could see the light from another vent shining in front of her.

She crept forward, and her fingers brushed against something different than cobwebs and globs of dust. It was solid, tiny, ropelike, with a hard plastic end that had caught between the seams of the air ducts. She tugged it out, and with what very little light there was, she saw it was the end of a shoelace that had been torn off.

The runaway, or whoever in the world had stowed themselves in the vents, had been through there already. Six paused, terrified, as if that person was going to suddenly appear behind her. They didn't, of course, and she forced herself to move forward, toward the light. She stuffed the bit of shoelace in her pocket, simply because she didn't know what else to do with it.

Positioning herself over the vent, grateful for the fresh air, a totally unexpected sight greeted her. On the floor of the storage room, Evette and Hal were half naked, squirming on top of each other, moaning, and kissing, lying on a pile of blankets.

She stifled an uncomfortable giggle, but couldn't take her eyes off the couple writhing around on the storage room floor. They would occasionally gasp slightly, move a bit more clothing off of their sweating bodies, smash themselves even closer together. Six's discomfort turned into fascination, then a strange feeling she couldn't describe, moving from deep in her gut all the way up her abdomen and neck to make her cheeks blush.

She knew, somehow, without knowing exactly what Hal and Evette were doing, that she'd wanted to have that kind of deep, overwhelming closeness with Lucky, despite their feud. Her heart began to beat faster in her chest, her face turning warm, the feeling in her gut bleeding downward to give her a tingling sensation.

Suddenly, Hal stopped kissing and grinding against Evette, distracted by something on her hand. He took her hand in his, examining it, making Evette-and Six-sigh in frustration.

"What is this?" he asked, though Six could barely see anything through the vent. Evette pulled her hand away and Six could just barely make out a small tattoo shaped like an 'x' on the skin between her thumb and index finger.

"Later. I can tell you later," she whispered, going back to kiss Hal. He stopped her.

"I want to know."

Evette grunted and pressed her head into Hal's chest as he held her delicate hand.

"They… they marked me."

"Marked you? For what?"

Evette gazed deep into Hal's dark brown eyes.

"I can't be promoted."

Hal sucked in a breath and jolted upright, as if filled with terror. He opened his mouth, but no words came out for a long moment.

"Oh shit," he said finally. "Fuck. This is my fault."

"No. It wasn't because of the fights, or you. I haven't been able to keep up with my quota for a month."

"God damn it!" he yelled suddenly, smacking his palm against the steel floor, startling both Evette and Six.

"Shh! Hal!"

"I don't care! Fuck those bastards! Fuck this whole place."

A tiny thrill ran through Six, hearing someone say what she had been feeling ever since that field trip. Someone else understood how awful this place was, it wasn't just her overreacting.

Evette lowered herself down on the blanket with a sigh, looking straight up at the vent, covering her pale chest with a thin, white sheet, her breasts just barely visible under the veil. Six nearly choked. She backed away from the vent, hoping Evette couldn't see her. Fleeting, intrusive thoughts started to bombard her like mosquitos. She thought about touching them both, holding Evette's breast in her hand, reaching down Hal's pants and…

Six shook her head and bit her own tongue on accident. What in the hell was going on in her brain?

"We both knew I wasn't getting out of here," said Evette quietly, as Hal settled back down next to her and softly moved her chin towards him with one hand.

"No, you could have gotten out…"

"They upped my quota on purpose," she cut him off. "They know why I'm here. All they needed was an excuse to mark me ineligible for promotion. They do that to a lot of us, down here. The ones who were demoted in the first place."

"That was my fault, too."

Surprisingly, a grin twitched across Evette's face. "Takes two to tango, doesn't it?" She gave Hal another small kiss. It didn't seem to cheer up his dour mood, though.

"I should have been the one they demoted."

"Don't say that," she whispered, kissing him again. "Could have happened to anyone. We can still meet here. I mean, what else can they do to me now?"

Six was so engrossed in watching the couple below that she didn't feel the little creature scuttle onto the back of her hand, at first. After a moment, a tickle made her look over to find a tiny, brown animal with a long, naked tail, rounded ears, and bulging black eyes settled on top of her hand. Its whiskers trembled, then it sat up, hunched over, and started cleaning its miniscule paws and washing its tiny, pointed face.

She sucked in a breath, then giggled softly to herself, not afraid at all. It was an odd looking thing, very different from that technician's flerkin… no, that was a cat… but just as fuzzy and adorable, to her. It seemed content to clean itself on top of Six's hand, showing its white-furred belly.

"Hello," she whispered, holding out her pinky to the creature. It stopped cleaning itself, gave her finger a look with blank, black eyes… then chomped down.

Six screamed and flung the animal away, smacking her hand against the side of the vent with a loud slam.

"What the fuck?" Hal said, followed by a shuffle of blankets and clothes as they hurried to dress themselves.

Scrambling away from the vent, Six struggled to turn around in the narrow passage, panicking, taking too long to realize she could have just shuffled backwards, instead. Her backpack strap got caught on a screw on the side of the vent. She was trapped. Noises floated up through the vent: Hal and Evette arguing between themselves, a scrape of metal, footsteps. Then, fingers reached through the vent, lifted it out of the way, and Hal's hand came through, patting around until it grabbed onto Six's leg.

"No!"

Six gasped and kicked in terror, but Hal had a firm grip. He dragged her closer to the opened vent, the force of it loosening her from the screw stuck on her backpack. She wriggled like a fish caught on a line.

"Don't flail around like that!" he said. He'd gotten both of her legs through the vent, and her feet touched something solid.

"Hal! Careful!" cried Evette from the ground, holding the ladder steady.

Hal, still with a hand on the back of Six's shirt, forced her down onto the top steps of the ladder. Looking down at herself, she saw she was covered in dust, head to toe. A gush of blood drained from the mouse bite on her pinky.

Carefully, awkwardly, the two made their way down the ladder until they were safe on the ground.

"You?" said Evette, glowering at an absolutely filthy Six. "You were at the fights! What were you doing? Spying?"

Evette, despite her slender frame, approached her menacingly, but Hal put one hand on his lover's shoulder.

"She's a trainee, not a spy. She was with Mobius." He turned to Six, looking her up and down. She'd never felt more stupid and ashamed in her short life. "You'd better tell us what the hell you think you're doing, though."

Six could only let her mouth hang open, making a pitiful squeak.

"I… I don't know…"

Evette rolled her eyes. "Out with it!" she said.

"I was running away, okay?" Six blurted, holding her dusty, overfilled backpack against her chest defensively. "I can't stand going to class anymore. I hate it. I hate it here…" she trailed off as Hal and Evette both stared at her, stunned, then at each other.

Evette shook her head with grim resignation. "You'd better get used to it," she mumbled. "How in the world did you think you were going to get away with this, anyway? You made a little getaway pack… then what? Hmm?"

She reached out, as if she meant to take Six's meager provisions away from her, but Six held on to them tight. Her cheeks burned with anger.

"Well, you and Hal get away with stuff, don't you?"

Evette made an astonished noise, something between a gasp and a scoff.

"You… you little…"

Hal's expression softened. "Look," he said, running his hand through his hair, "You just have to learn to play by the rules, and…" He paused, taking another guilty look at Evette. "You just get used to it, after a while."

They all knew what they felt, but no one was brave enough to say it to each other. Fuck this place.

"You can't tell anyone about seeing us together. Ever. Do you understand?" Evette's eyes were filled with fear as she spoke.

"Why would I?" she muttered. She caught sight again of the crude 'x' tattooed on Evette's hand. Six shivered. They could make that mark on her hand, too, stick her in maintenance and forget she'd ever existed.

Hal sighed. "You need to go back topside. So do I."

Evette gave him a pining glance, and he returned it with an embrace. "Meet me here at-" he paused, throwing a suspicious look at Six, "-I'll tell you later."

A noise from the hall made everyone freeze. Loud footsteps echoed from the entrance to Division Nine. They were clumsy, almost uncertain, as if whoever had entered didn't know which way to go.

Evette let out a frustrated growl and zipped her blue maintenance jumpsuit all the way up. "I'll go get them to leave. Probably someone sticking their nose where they don't belong." She glowered pointedly at Six, who did the same back at her. "You two, stay here. Don't make a sound."

Evette left up the ladder to the hallway, and Hal ushered her against the wall, where a prying eye wouldn't see them right away if they took a glance down the hole leading to the fight night room. They both held their breath. Six strained to hear the conversation, but couldn't pick out any words. The stranger sounded like a man with a frustratingly familiar tone to his voice. Evette's voice, far from angry or condescending, seemed surprised, friendly, even. Two pairs of footsteps came walking quickly down the hallway once again, and Six's heart leapt to her throat. Hal seemed just as frightened, staring up at the hole leading to the hallway. What was Evette thinking? She was leading the guy straight to them!

With nowhere to hide, Hal and Six stayed frozen in place as a pair of brown patent-leather shoes made their way down the ladder. Six gasped and smiled the moment she saw the employee's face.

"Mobius!"

She ran to him and gave him a hug, completely forgetting herself, and that she was absolutely filthy. When she pulled away, she'd deposited a good deal of gray, fluffy dust onto his nice, crisp, brown suit jacket.

He gave her an astonished look, then chuckled to himself and shrugged. "You know, I feel like I should have guessed, somehow."