Made it through another week? Your reward is another BC installment. I couldn't have done this one without the insights of BrambleStar14 or the beta reading assit from Minaethiel. Those two rock. And so do you.
This is a Fire
Written by TunelessLyric
I discovered art when I saw your face
An abundance of lovingly crafted words
From your heart with wings
-Trocadero, 'Heart with Wings'
It had been one of those rare lazy Sunday afternoons. Laughter and poker and a long run on the treadmill with Phil after Harper had caught Jason by the collar and hauled him off to the barracks. Then, Phil throwing in the towel, she had gone to watch Lucas tinker for a while. When he had gotten sick of her standing, peering over his shoulder, she had been banished back to the gym. Even after a marathon dance session, Hannah couldn't shake the thoughts building in her head. Couldn't ignore how much she missed Jason. Wanted nothing more than to talk about nothing with him. For five minutes.
Just five minutes.
Maybe the three of them might never figure it out and it would always be hell on one of them. Maybe if this somehow lasted, this cautious dance Hannah and Jason and Harper were trying to balance, things would always be tense.
A shoe landed beside her. She whirled, the soft movement to the light song evaporating.
Aaron held his other shoe, arm cocked back to launch it, in the doorway. "Don't shoot, I'm a friendly!" he called.
She scowled and kicked his first projectile back to him, getting some air. "You're the one firing on a teammate." But she rolled her eyes.
"Safest way to get your attention when you're in that zone," he answered cheerfully, bending to pull his shoes back on. "Lucas said you'd be here. Can't sleep?"
Hannah unplugged her data pad, cutting the music off mid-phrase. "Don't suppose you have a cure?"
A wide grin split her friend's face. He drew a folded piece of paper from a pocket, adjusting the creases expertly in deft fingers. The paper airplane sailed through the room until she snatched it down.
"Just thought you might want to slum it with Geist and I for a few hours."
Hannah's mouth dropped open as she unfolded the sheet. Her hands, she realized, trembled as she stared down at the image.
"Pretty awesome, right?" Aaron fished.
"Holy shit," she breathed, raising it to press against a shoulder blade. The one backing the ragged claw marks.
He grinned. "I love it already," he said, just as he had another sleepless night after a long dance session. "Get showered and meet me in my room." He retreated from the door, giving her no chance to respond.
Which was good because she didn't know what else to even say.
Ten minutes later, Hannah knocked on Aaron's door, forcing her eyes away from that room a little farther down the hall. She stepped inside the second Geist let her in. He gave her a nod before settling at the edge of the bed with sword and whetstone, content to just be.
"Hey, keep it down over there, you chatterbox," scolded Aaron, not looking up from wrapping gauzy self-adhesive tape around a tattoo needle.
Geist shot the pyro a look before returning to his task.
"Is this guy giving you a hard time?" she asked, jerking a thumb at Aaron. "I'll beat him up for you."
The assassin snorted. "Your problem now."
"Hey, I'll push you out of bed later. Behave or take it outside. And pass me that pillow, will you?" Aaron held out a hand.
Sighing, Geist swung a plastic-wrapped pillow around, catching the other man in the back of the head. "Oops."
Hannah snatched it up, climbing onto the desk and tugging her shirt off. "All right, stop flirting. I don't want to see it. You're gross and distracting each other."
The pair of them exchanged a look that made Geist's lips curl upward slightly.
"The Blizzard has arrived, boys!" Aaron mimed a shiver, pulling his chair over to the desk. "Everyone stop having fun, she hates it."
"Shut up and give me the damn tattoo, Paul. Or I'll call Lucas to back me up. You wouldn't flirt with a real audience, would you?" she asked sweetly, lying down on her stomach.
"As you command, ma'am." He saluted, giving his needle an experimental jolt of power. Its humming filled the room. He grinned again. "It hurts to be beautiful. Let's have some pain."
Hours later, her shoulder ached as she flopped into bed. It wasn't easy to get comfortable when her entire arm was tender, but at least the pain had quieted her mind. Somewhere along the line, joking with Aaron while Geist's cool presence calmed her, Hannah finally crashed through the wall to fatigue.
Lying on her good side, Hannah fell asleep with a wash of purple and green firelight playing over her.
"What do you think?"
He was silent, fingers splayed over her skin, curling around her biceps as he took it all in. Jason had never overtly called much attention to her brutal scars, though she knew they gave him pause. The reminder of her death rattled him. He had traced them out with hands and mouth several times. He had followed every line that had been inked into her side until he'd memorized it.
But he had never said a word about them. Had never asked about the hair-thin scars on her hands and shoulders from being in countless knife fights. Never asked about the near-perfect circles sprinkled over her lower back. He knew the remnants of full-auto gunfire when he saw them.
"She's gorgeous. Blizzard, I mean." A thumb followed the curve of a dark blue wing as he spoke quietly.
And she was. The proud phoenix left a trail of pale stars or snowflakes spinning in her wake, stirred by her spread wings. More were held within the bird's body, shining against her feathers of deep twilight. Beak open, she had been frozen into silence in the middle of a fierce war cry, talons poised to capture her prey. A phantom wind caught at her long tail, or perhaps she had the frigid gust under command as she coasted on it.
"You're gorgeous," Jason said, pressing the words to her neck.
She kissed him long and slow after that. Until the moment heated between them and appreciation melted into her heart.
His back was a mess of scars. Some were words he couldn't read in the mirror. Some formed shapes and designs. All put there by Harper's hand, delicately rendered as permanent reminders of every dark, haunting promise that bound the two of them. Each second bought with blood and pain.
She knew them all. He felt it in the way her fingers dragged over each one slowly as he drowsed, slipping along the line between waking and dreaming. How could she not know what they stood for? Those clear blue eyes saw through every lie he had ever tried to hide behind.
But he stopped feeling ashamed of his skin when he dragged his shirt over his head tonight. This once, he was proud of the story carved into his flesh.
He sat on the bed, her behind him, eyes on a level with his newest marks.
It had hurt like few other physical pains he had experienced, but he was no stranger to near-unbearable agony. They all were now. Besides, it had been worth it.
Her fingertip brushed the base of his skull, a chill racing down his spine in answer to the force of nature touching such a vulnerable part of him. Heat chased through his body, making his eyes half close as he drowned in the comfort. She continued, swirling lower until reaching the graceful curl of tail feathers between his shoulder blades.
One wing was dark with tiny pinpricks of white stars. Cold, distant. Ever watchful in the deep dark. On the other side of his spine, a feathered wing-shaped cloud cracked and split with blue-white lightning. The bird's sunset eyes were narrowed as it speared upward on a phantom current. Hunting.
"I like it better than the first design," she said, voice hushed.
He smiled, warmed even more by her approval. Harper's reaction had been visceral. All rough touch and pinched face as he stared at each half of the design melting together on the bird's proud breast. Words impossible to speak hung heavy in their breaths.
It meant a hell of a lot for Hannah to leave a kiss on the visual representation of his heart.
"He's handsome," she added. The breath behind her words tickled into his ear, a bare promise of what was building beneath her skin. A burning hand held fast to his shoulder.
The two phoenixes were roughly the same size. They were nearly identical in shape, the tilt of head slightly differently angled. Hers screamed her challenge to the galaxy. I'll show you a storm. His arrowed for the sky to survey a target.
The two Phoenixes were nearly identical, deep down in the inner chambers of their hearts.
Jason swung around, unable to bear not having her taste on his tongue. Her name on his lips. Her skin on his. He burned for the ice to soothe his soul. She rose to meet him, waiting for his fire to melt her harsh, impossible, incredible edges
It was a typical meal except for two empty seats. That in itself was unusual, missing bodies at the Phoenix table made everyone else uneasy. Hannah ate with Jason's arm resting along her shoulders. Geist patiently explained to Lucas why he didn't want his active camo tinkered with. Yet both Jason and Geist occasionally darted glances toward the entrance.
A collective sigh rolled through the group when Aaron and Harper finally walked through the door.
The pyro looked drained despite his pleased expression. And Harper…
Harper made a beeline for their table, eyes shining like emeralds lit from within. Those eyes took in Hannah's every point of contact with Jason, but his steps stayed quick. Decisive. He caught the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head, pivoting to show his team a broad back criss-crossed with scars of all shapes and sizes. At the epicentre, a dark phoenix stretched leathery wings across thickly muscled shoulders.
Feathers were meticulously slashed out in yellow, orange, red as the dangerous flame burned in its strong body. A red-rimmed beak parted gently as if a hound on a scent. As if laughing at whatever its shrewd green eyes spied.
Jason was the first to let out a whistle of appreciation.
"I guess this really is happening. There's going to be no living with Aaron now," complained Lucas.
The tattoo artist in question dropped into his spot, elbowing Lucas in the side. "Put your shirt on, Boss, I've already stared at your ugly half-naked ass all afternoon. Plus, Shaw looks like he might finish undressing you before we can clear the room."
Jason's mouth opened before he realized there was nothing to say without offending someone present. His arm tightened around Hannah, but she caught the light in his eyes as he gazed at Harper.
But the team lead pulled his shirt back on and sauntered off to get a plate.
Mike caught Hannah's eye and she leaned over so he could whisper, "He waited until it wouldn't look like he was getting it in response to you and Jason matching."
Yet it had already crossed her mind. Of all of them, Harper had been one of the hard sells on the idea of a team tattoo. Until she and Jason both got theirs. She had expected Aaron to be the next one to unveil his new piece, but of course Harper leaped in first.
Hannah nodded, drawing a knuckle over the back of Jason's hand. She cut through all of the praises to get Aaron's attention. She mimed a quick dancing motion and he nodded quickly.
If she was going to have her quarters to herself tonight—and there was no mistaking that, not with that hunger in Jason's expression—then she would spend a few hours pushing herself to exhaustion. To forget how alone she was sometimes. To remember that her friends were beside her.
That same night, Aaron gave her some time in the gym before he joined her. She used every heartbeat revelling in each tug in her body as she stretched, pushed it to its limits to a playlist of loud, harsh edges and rough beats that left rents in the air as she moved.
Until her thoughts were only on the next words and how her body would follow them through space. Until all she could do was keep pace and pull down another breath. Another.
Then Aaron slipped in, weaving through blind spots as she spun. He let the song play out before putting a quieter playlist on, ratcheting down the volume.
She sank to the floor, chest heaving against the instinct to gasp for air. He brought her water bottle over, settling down across from her.
"I have something that might cheer you up." He flashed his teeth, sort of a grin, sort of a grimace.
A blonde brow quirked as she watched. Wordless. If she spoke, sour words would drip down her chin.
"You know Harper. Has to be the centre of attention and preen. So don't tell anyone that I stole his thunder, a'right?" Aaron winked, so swiftly anyone not looking for his conspiratorial little expressions would never have noticed. "Our secret, yeah? Only Geist knows how I spent my morning. So you've gotta be convincing as him tomorrow."
She took a long drink of water. Swished it around just to make him sweat a little. "You guys trust me too much," she said, letting each word drop like lead weights.
He covered the flicker of deep weariness he had to feel in his bones by looking down to roll his sleeve. Sure, steady marks were revealed with suitable theatrics, Hannah's drumroll on the padded floor included. There, on his left wrist, was a fourth Phoenix.
So far, the first trio had been rendered in muted colours. They had relied on flashes of clever designs and attention to detail. Not Firefly. This bird was an impossible riot of flame captured in bird form. Sparks leapt from his body. Leaked from his beak. Tongues of fire danced on every edge as the phoenix burned through the sky.
Hannah had to lace her fingers to keep from checking the image for a pulse, knowing she would find Aaron's own pounding under her touch. His other hand fell onto hers. Her eyes rose to find his own staring into her with sharp intensity. "I know you're only here for your debts and for him. I saw what you won't let anyone else see. The jealousy you hide from Jason. How much you hate Harper."
She couldn't argue. Had no defense against one of her best friends. Her fingers tightened.
"The others, if anyone else sees it—whenever they do—they don't hold it against you. We just all want each other to be happy. You're good for him. He's good for you and Harper. In your own way, you're what this team needs. Someone who'll challenge him instead of following. ONI spent too long drilling loyalty into us, I guess."
Aaron moved his hand, resting long, deceptively nimble fingers on one of Blizzard's wings. She let the heat of the touch sink into her, leaving a handprint on the wall of ice around her carefully guarded heart.
So few. She let so few people in. Most of them were on the wrong side of the dirt, covered by snowbanks now that winter had come to Byzantium.
"I'm not leaving yet," said Hannah. "There are a lot of things I still have to do. Debts to repay."
Geist and Phil. Harper.
"I have you guys."
Mike and Lucas and Aaron. Jason.
Aaron's hand squeezed, her warning before he dragged her into a tight hug. "You're not leaving," he said, mouth close to her ear so he could breathe it like another shared secret.
"Yet."
Hannah and Jason were playing cards against Lucas and Mike. Harper watched, advising Jason's every move, apparently not bothered by how infrequently his suggestions were implemented. Phil and Aaron were conspicuously absent. In the corner, Geist was totally absorbed in a book. An honest-to-god paperback novel. His sudden movement drew their attention.
Footsteps, excited and light, carried down the hall and into Phoenix's break room. One set was just the slightest bit uneven to Hannah's ears. She selected a card and laid it down.
Lucas looked dismayed by her play, but was saved from trying to salvage the round by Aaron strutting into the room.
Nudging Geist's book aside with a finger, he sprawled in the assassin's lap. "I'm hungry," he complained.
Geist gazed down at Aaron, expression impassive. He lifted a single eyebrow.
"Let's see it then," Mike prompted the team second, laying down his hand in a neat pile.
Like bursting the floodgates, everyone began to echo the request. Hannah, smile on her face, raised her own voice. She couldn't help the excitement bubbling up. Not with the expectant eyes and grins. Each unveiling turned the whole group practically giddy.
Phil gathered a pantleg up to one knee, twisting his leg so everyone could see his swollen calf. Hannah's breath caught at the meticulously wrought two-headed bird. One head was sleek, beak hooked and built to tear meat. The other was more rounded, feathers standing up as it called out. Both talons strained for prey it had spied with singular focus. Its plumage was brown tinged with golden yellow where invisible light shone on it.
A proud bird. A highly intelligent bird. With two faces to match the soldier and fatherly voice of reason.
"He's gorgeous," said Hannah. "Very you."
"Nice!" Jason added enthusiastically, giving both Phil and Aaron a thumbs-up.
Lucas nodded. "Worth getting bumped down the order."
Hannah turned to the engineer, one question all over her face.
He shrugged. "Apparently he's got something special in mind for me." Longing inched into his tone as his attention flicked back to the representation of Falcon.
Lucas wanted her with him when his turn came. With Jason occupied yet again with Harper, she had no reason to deny him. There was little and less to do, the team having a rare free day and using it to make themselves scarce. So in the late afternoon, Hannah dragged Lucas away from his workbench and down the barracks hall to Aaron's room.
Lucas paused, pulling down a deep breath and squaring his shoulders.
She didn't say anything, just letting their arms brush as she knocked.
Aaron answered it himself, Geist nowhere to be found. It was just the three of them today, it seemed.
"Ready, mate?"
A nod from the engineer before he stepped into the room, catching Hannah's sleeve to pull her in as well.
Everything was where it had been last time Hannah had been here, barring the assassin and sword. All of the tattoo equipment was arrayed neatly along the desk, two chairs pulled up to it. Hannah dragged the sheets off the bed and made herself a nest on the floor while Lucas stripped his shirt off and got comfortable in one of the chairs.
Aaron still didn't say much. The three of them, normally falling so easily into joking and teasing conversation, were all reluctant to be the first to break the uncomfortable silence. Lucas flinched when Aaron took hold of his wrist, twisting and turning his arm before laying the stencil across it. Their adjustments were made in tones so soft Hannah couldn't even catch words.
"Let me know if you need to take a break or anything," Aaron finally said, dipping the needle into ink, expression solemn.
Lucas held his open palm on his knee, looking down at Hannah. She took his hand and offered a squeeze. She leaned her head against his leg and closed her eyes. She listened to the buzz of the needle and Lucas' first tight breath. She felt the painful squeeze as he let out a shaky exhale.
It was hours like that. Hannah lost track of whether she was awake or not, measuring time only by the shifting as Aaron made his way over and around the expanse of bare flesh. He mostly worked in silence, only murmuring something on occasion. Lucas answered in the same undertone, except to ask Hannah to pass his water every so often.
At last, the buzzing faded away.
Aaron leaned back, already pulling the needle out of the tool. "Damn, that looks good," he said, mouth twitching into a ghost of a smile.
Lucas twisted, looking down at his shoulder. He nodded.
Getting to her feet, Hannah spun his chair with a nudge. This Phoenix was caught flying away, glancing over his shoulder to regard her. Its bronze body was made up of sheets joined together with rivets and hinges, covered in a layer of soft feathers veined electric green and teal. The longer she looked, the more convinced she was that it watched her with a fascinated tilt of its head. Its intelligent eyes didn't match, one clear blue. The other rich green.
"Happy rebirthday, Isaac," said Lucas, eyes shut as he tipped his head back.
Hannah gave his hand a final squeeze. "Happy rebirthday."
Aaron echoed them, keeping his friends in his room another couple of hours. Geist and Mike joined them with plates from the mess hall. Phil wandered in not long after. But it was a few hours more before Jason and Harper put in an appearance.
Hannah hadn't known the younger Harper brother. But she thought—as she watched Lucas proudly showing off the phoenix with one wing on his chest, the other on his back—she sure would have liked the chance to meet him.
One more ghost haunting the Byzantium base's halls.
They were all exhausted from the fighting. Covered in bruises and nicks and scrapes, not one member of the team had gotten away without ache or soreness. There was pain all the way down, deep in their tired muscles. In their very bones. Three weeks out in some backwater with no companions but each other and the wildlife and the electric blues and greens of plasma weapons.
Just the dead and dying. And one team who had risen from their rest to fight on through the sleepless nights.
Blizzard stood before her locker, still bleary from the restless attempts at sleep in the cramped freighter. The most rest any of them had managed since General Allen's call a lifetime ago. They'd been patched and nursed back to almost complete health, but there was nothing for the dull eyes and drifting feet but real sleep. Not the sort disturbed by a sudden hush in the surrounding trees or an unexpected sound.
She had never been the sort to need a rough shake to wake from uneasy dreams. No, Blizzard rarely managed to avoid jerking to full awareness at the smallest hint of danger.
But this was going to be one of those nights where she was dead to the world unless a squad of Brutes tore through the barracks walls. Tonight it was just going to be like heaven as she slid into crisp, clean sheets on a real honest-to-god bed. No more damp pile of leaves in the cave that had been their base of operations for nearly a month. No more huddling around an emaciated fire while the breath froze on their lips. Just the ambient heat soaking into her, helped along by pressing against the bulk of Jason.
Tonight they were all going to sleep soundly.
The rest of the team had been run ragged right along with her. Lucas was unsteady on a splinted ankle, foggy from the pain medication. Phil's arm rested in a sling while the torn muscles in his shoulder healed. Harper and Jason and Geist had their share of burns and bruises, the odd black eye and bloody nose. Mike scarcely managed to stay swaying on exhausted feet as he stripped out of his armour on instinct alone, frostbitten fingers barely responsive. For their part, Aaron and Blizzard had been lucky, only picking up minor hurts, though their own suits had borne the brunt of plasma rifles and plummeting temperatures.
And she suspected Aaron had broken several fingers and simply hadn't reported it. He'd get them treated now that they were back on base.
Reaching up and ignoring the protest burning through her arms, Hannah peeled her helmet off. She raked fingers through greasy hair and finally allowed herself to dream of lathering shampoo into her scalp. God, the thought of a hot shower was enough to make her knees buckle.
"What," said Jason, stabbing a finger at Geist, "is that?"
Geist immediately pulled a folded shirt from his locker, slipping it halfway on before anyone else reacted. By the time Hannah spun and blinked to clear her vision, he had one arm through the sleeve and was already reaching for the other one.
Aaron caught the shirt's hem with his good hand, holding it out of the way. He revived a little, practically shining with pride.
It wasn't anything flashy, but it was all clean lines and sleek feathers from beak to tail. The pale blue Phoenix surveyed them all with shrewd eyes like ice. Eyes like the ones turned on his teammates as he suddenly became the centre of attention. The source of a weak third wind rallying the battered squad.
Geist's bird held a sharp sword in its talons, the edge meticulously honed and free of nicks or scratches. It had been immortalized by someone intimately acquainted with the blade now stowed safely in the assassin's locker, each detail rendered as carefully as its counterpart was cared for.
"So when, exactly, were you going to show us this?" asked Lucas, expression perking up into amusement.
A shrug was the only response before Geist pulled his shirt on the rest of the way.
"Aaron?" Mike appealed to the only other person who knew any of the particulars.
Aaron waved an airy hand, pulling a towel from his locker along with a spare set of fatigues. "Oh, you know, it was the week before Allen decided to ship us to that shithole for the worst vacation in history."
"Nice of you to tell us," grumbled Harper. He just shook his head, for once too tired to laugh it off. "Get into the shower and have something hot to eat. You all look like hell."
Hannah nodded. "Wouldn't want anyone else to see such a sorry group. What a terrifying group of Phoenixes, blown over by a gust from the AC."
Phil chuckled, already halfway out the door. "She's right. Not that I think anyone needs telling, but get some sleep, mates. Don't think being half-dead's going to excuse you from the firing range tomorrow afternoon."
With that easy-going threat, he headed in the direction of the showers.
Jason groaned, rolling his shoulders slowly. He caught Hannah's eye across the room, offering a swift wink.
She shook her head, hardly able to believe where his mind was. But she let him see her grin before she went back to shucking off her armour.
Shower, food, Jason, sleep for a week. Sounded good to her.
Maybe a week later, Aaron's fingers were healed. Mike all but raced him back to the barracks after Phoenix's gym session. It was still early in the morning, but Hannah was dreaming of a nap. The depths of winter had gotten to her. Gotten to them all. Cooped up in the base more often than not, her teammates barely braved the cold unless they had to.
Even Harper had relented, apparently satisfied that their winter survival skills were up to snuff after their last stint of combat. Their days were mostly spent indoors, working off the sharp edges in the gym and waiting for the next barked order from Allen.
Harper stood by the gym door, staring expectantly at Jason.
Hannah busied herself by retying her perfectly knotted shoelace. With her face turned to the floor, nobody would see the pinched expression written all over it. And with Mike gone, nobody was there to read the tightness in her muscles as she forced herself to bite her tongue.
Running shoes scuffed the floor. The tread was soft, whisper quiet as it neared her. Not the quick and noisy steps of Lucas or Aaron, but far too careless to be Geist. Less measured than Phil, more restrained than Harper himself. He all but drifted to her side, pulled in as if by gravity until he crouched next to her.
Hands caught hers, stilling them. Hands she knew by their touch.
"We both know there's nothing wrong with your laces," he breathed into her ear. "Let's get out of here, yeah?"
She let him tug her to her feet, smothering the relief before it could shine through the disappointment. Close enough to neutral to pass at a casual glance, she supposed.
Jason kept hold of one hand as they strolled past Harper. The team lead stepped away, hands deep in his pockets as he jerked his chin to Phil. Gamely, his second-in-command fell into step and they headed deeper into the base. Far away from the barracks.
Hannah and Jason fell asleep watching the fat, fluffy snowflakes drift past her window. Undisturbed by the near-lazy schedule imposed by Phil, they were able to wake at their leisure. She didn't know where she ended and he began. She just knew how deeply the love curled within her as they stretched out beside each other afterward. As she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart against her back when he pulled her tight to his chest.
Finally, reluctantly, drawn from bed on silent agreement by an entirely different flavour of hunger, Hannah couldn't say if she had her own oversized shirt on, or if the one she'd rescued from beneath the bed was Jason's instead.
They bumped into the rest of the team in the hallway. Mike was at the centre of the ring, grinning from ear to ear.
Hannah nudged Lucas aside to make room for herself and Jason.
"Let's see it then," prompted Phil. "You made us wait for these two lazy asses. They're here now."
"Took their sweet time," said Aaron, smirking at the new arrivals.
Hannah held a hand up before Jason could retort and keep everyone waiting a minute longer.
Mike rolled his sleeve the rest of the way to his shoulder, twisting around so everyone could see the fresh tattoo on his triceps. Soaring effortlessly on a current, this Phoenix looked completely in control. At ease. The greys and blacks of its feathers blended together so smoothly that it looked as if it had been born of shadow bleeding into light. Flecks of white stood out, nearly matching the man's hair. But what really drew Hannah's attention were the keen gold eyes keeping tireless watch over Mike's six.
"Wow." Jason whistled. "That's one sleek bird."
Hannah could only nod, knocked speechless by the final Phoenix. It was perfect for the sniper. Aaron had every right to puff up under the compliments.
He had made each and every one of them flesh without flaw.
"All right, everyone," said Harper, fishing his phone from a pocket. "Get together and show them off."
He punched his code into Aaron's door, wedging the device in the narrowest gap and setting a timer for his camera. Hannah, like most of her teammates, pulled her shirt off. She stayed between Jason and Lucas, Aaron next to the engineer with Geist on his far side. Phil and Mike lined up beside Jason, leaving a gap for Harper to squeeze in.
She caught Lucas and Jason by the hand a heartbeat before the flash lit up the hallway.
Nearly as one, Fireteam Phoenix yanked their clothes back into proper order and swarmed the phone. Harper held it out so everybody could crane their necks and see.
Hannah saw herself in the centre of a proud flock of Phoenixes, clinging to two of the most important people in her life. It shocked her, seeing how at ease she looked. How well she fit into the line. She looked liked one of the guys.
Like this was where she belonged.
