a/n: The gang convinces Quincy to open up about the mystery woman.

Editing? In this economy? Maybe next story.

All the good things belong to Monolithsoft.

The four skells skimmed off the water and lifted over sand, golden this time, the edge of their home continent. It was mid morning, and the vegetation on the rock formations was bright green in the sunshine. There were a few nasty flying indigen they'd have to watch out for, but the route home was a safe straight path.

Quincy's skell shuddered slightly and veered off course. Hope checked her sensors for a wind gust, but spotted nothing. Her own skell was handling smoothly. Something must be mechanically wrong with Quincy's skell. Would they run into every possible problem on this return trip? She looked at the video feed. His comms were muted but she didn't need sound to see how hard he was coughing. He was struggling to keep his head up and his eyes open.

Doug's voice snapped across the shared line. "You need us to land so you can take another puff of that inhaler?"

Quincy shook his head violently, mirrored by another wobble of his skell. He whipped his head back and swung his shoulders, then let go of the controls for a second to swipe at his mouth. When he unmuted, he sounded ragged. "Bad idea. It's single use." He muted on another string of coughs, returning a moment later. One imperfect breath followed another, but otherwise he was calm. "Another shot would burn out the working parts of my lungs."

Gwin whistled appreciatively. "Metal."

"Mostly nanite composites, but thanks."

Hope was impressed by how Quincy could still joke. His bravery was as gentle and true as the rest of his personality. "You could talk about her," she suggested.

The rest of the party responded with shocked silence. Hope blushed. She wasn't being curious, not like Gwin had been. She might not be an expert on petalose syndrome, but there were a few key points she remembered from Mediator duty. Things that were specifically her division's duty. They were there to listen, and that was something that could help Quincy. "Talking about the person can provide temporary relief," she all but recited. When she was met with more silence, slightly skeptical based on the expressions on the tiny video screens, she said seriously, "I do more than mediate when I'm working at the Mim Center."

She was relieved when Quincy supported her. "She's right. They mentioned it when I was first diagnosed. Thing is, it comes with increased symptoms afterwards."

Doug pointed out the obvious. "We're already way past worrying about that. Go for it."

"At least share her number!" urged Gwin.

"Gwin!" Hope said with a shocked smile.

"I'm asking for Doug," he defended himself.

"GWIN!"

"No, let Quincy answer," Doug suggested.

Quincy was laughing and coughing in equal measure. He shook his head and smiled at the camera. "Fine. No names, no details, which means it's going to be dull for the rest of you."

Gwin grinned impishly. "You realize we're going to try to figure it out. For Doug," he added.

Doug frowned. "Shut up, Gwin. But also, he has a point."

Quincy seemed to shrug, although it was hard to tell with the tiny video screen. He didn't answer at once, but when he started, he didn't stop. "So, to get it out of the way, she's beautiful."

xcxcxcx

A few hours later, Hope was sitting next to Quincy in the Mim Center. She didn't have an official purpose for being there, but she felt that somebody should be there, if only to hold Quincy's hand. They had given him a little something for his cough, syrupy liquid in a small paper cup, that had also made him sleepy. She'd convinced him to sit down on the gurney in the examination room, and he'd immediately tilted sideways and settled his head on the tiny pillow. He hadn't closed his eyes, but had stared at her, blinking irregularly.

She wasn't sure if she should let him nod off.

"You had my video feed on when we were flying home, didn't you?" she asked suddenly.

"All the feeds," Quincy answered vaguely. She checked. His eyes were still open, and the hand she was holding wasn't limp.

"But you were looking at mine when you were talking about her, right?"

"All the feeds. All the time."

Hope wasn't sure they were still having a conversation, but it had worried her on the flight home. "I don't mind. Did it help? Were you pretending that..."

Quincy sat up very straight. The pillow slipped to the floor silently. For a moment he looked like he had never been sleepy in his life. "I knew exactly who I was talking to. I knew exactly who I was talking about." His eyes drilled into Hope, daring her to argue.

"Oh, well, then. It was silly of me to think you would."

"Staying to be your friend was one of the reasons I tried to avoid this," he said more gently. A smile drifted across his face and his eyelids drooped. "Karaoke was fun..."

"You're a very good friend, Quincy," Hope agreed.

His cough was back, she realized. Even half asleep, he still had to fight the coughing. He muttered and coughed and even laughed a little. He really was being brave about it all. She helped him lie down again, snagging the pillow from the floor and plumping it before slipping it under his head. "We shouldn't talk."

a/n: I like dialogue so much.

Next up: Mystery woman's other good qualities.