AN: Also, if you notice any repeat material, I once again moved a section from a previous chapter to this chapter. It's just a bit of editing, so please ignore, thanks!


Since upgrading from an apartment just barely on the border of what was considered the middle class part of Trost to a castle, Marceline didn't venture into the district very often. When she did, she chose to go during times when the streets weren't as busy; weekdays in the late afternoon and evenings mostly, after the marketplaces had closed.

Midday in fair weather, on a Saturday, the markets were packed.

She could've told the Lieutenant that this would be the case, but since he hadn't expressed much interest in hearing her opinions thus far, his visibly sour mood directed towards the crowded streets failed to pull at her heartstrings.

Before Marceline could ask what came next now that they were finally in Trost, the place that had been so important that she just had to drop everything, the Lieutenant dipped into a shop, leaving her behind in the street. When she didn't follow, staring after him with an unreadable expression, he gestured with a guy jerk of his head as he held the door open. Belligerent, she crossed her arms and walked into the shop.

She was hit with the strong scent of herbal infusions and she realized that they were in a tea shop. She looked around at the shelves stuffed with smelly things while the Lieutenant was already disappearing into a nearby aisle like a man on a mission. He was perusing a selection of earl grey when she came up behind him.

"We're not seriously here just to shop, are we?" she asked in a low tone. She glanced around at the scant other patrons roaming the shop and hoped that she didn't come off as a wife nagging her husband. "If you really wanted to avoid making me curious about what Erwin is up to back at headquarters, you could've put a little more effort into your cover story."

He didn't reply, only picked up a small sample of leaves and sniffed contemplatively at them.

"It's not that hard. Tell me that there's an important message he needs delivered, or a secret package he needs picked up. Tell me that the clerk is a wanted killer and we're here to apprehend him, anything besides just running errands." She shook her head. "What am I saying? You have an imagination the size of a kidney bean."

The Lieutenant still didn't look at her as he replaced the sample and moved further down the aisle.

"Erwin is a better storyteller than me. Next time you have tea together and gossip like grannies, ask him to come up with something. My orders were to keep you in Trost for the day, and that's what I intend to do."

"Are we going to at least visit any stores that I like?" Again, the nagging wife.

"We'll visit the stores and walk the routes I'm familiar with. We can't risk you being kidnapped by a bunch of ruffians or ambushed by killer clerks, can we?"

She scoffed quietly. "It's flattering that you think my life is so exciting that I have enemies waiting around every corner."

He turned back around and moved on to the next aisle of tea leaves. They spent a total of twenty-five minutes in the tea shop with the Lieutenant engaging in a lengthy chat with the owner while Marceline stood off to the side, staring holes into his skull.

She had no idea that there was so much information behind tea. To her, tea was just water with leaves in it. Black tea was the worst. The caffeine never did it for her, but then again, her tolerance for any kind of stimulants was high, having once upon a time downed a handful of uppers on a regular basis. She had completely self-sabotaged her system to the point where nothing of natural means could influence it. The Lieutenant shouldn't be drinking it, either, really. It couldn't be doing him any favors. He looked like he barely got any sleep.

When they finally left the shop, they walked the streets as Levi did another sweep of the area with his eyes. He wasn't expecting to run into trouble, but he didn't make it this far by not being acutely aware of his surroundings at all times. Since leaving the underground, he hadn't been so much as accosted while walking in public thanks to his reputation and affiliation with the military. Bands of squealing women, yes. People begging to show their appreciation by offering him free stuff, yes. But nobody even close to confrontational approached him.

As they walked the cobblestone streets together, Marceline looked down at his civilian clothes again, her gazing drifting all the way down to his shoes. Ordinary leather shoes.

She couldn't help but smile when she noticed that his shoes weren't equipped with any sort of enhancements to make him appear taller. She didn't judge men who wore lifts. She had seen Mitras women turn down perfectly good suitors just because they were a little on the short side. But for some reason, she liked that the Lieutenant didn't wear them. It only added to him always being unapologetically genuine.

"Why are you looking at my shoes like that? You don't have a foot fetish, do you?" he asked with mild disgust.

She only hummed and looked forward again, still smiling. "I just like your shoes."

He narrowed his eyes at her, but let it go.

Marceline took the lead as the Lieutenant read over the little information card that came with his pack of tea leaves. Her eyes scanned the vendor carts and gleamed the glass windows of the shops they passed. It all made her extremely nostalgic for the kind of money she had been making in the capital. Visiting markets was so much more fun when you had loose coin to spend.

There was a vendor selling caramel apples. The spicy scent and jewel-like sight of them made her stomach growl, reminding her that she hadn't had lunch yet. They were oh-so very messy to eat and her skirt was white, but she figured she was owed this one small indulgence.

She stopped and turned, but before she could make a beeline for the vendor's cart, the Lieutenant stopped her. He grabbed the back of her turtleneck and yanked her back.

"Hey!" she barked, whipping around and glaring at him.

"Stick next to me at all times," he told her. "I don't need you wandering off and doing something stupid."

Marceline narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips. She was starting to get tired of his attitude. He was treating her like an overactive child who couldn't handle being left on their own. He was the one who came and uprooted her day.

Before he could say anything more, the chemist suddenly let out a gasp and feigned excitement, pointing at the raven-haired scout and loudly proclaiming for everybody around them to hear:

"Oh my Walls, is that Lieutenant Levi from the Survey Corps!?"

His eyes widened as heads immediately turned in their direction. He had been blessed so far with remaining unrecognized, but now that he had been outed, people came running. They weren't going to miss the chance of seeing the closest thing to a celebrity that Wall Rose had.

His expression turned venomous at the smiling woman as a swarm of people crowded around him, all shouting their excitement and gratitude. Marceline smoothly side-stepped the crowd and practically skipped away giggling, leaving the Lieutenant to face his adoring fans.

That might've been playing dirty, but one needed to be crafty when facing an opponent such as Humanity's Strongest Soldier. At least now she could get a bit of her own shopping done until he inevitably caught up. Plus, thanks to her, he was being showered with love and admiration. Wasn't she so nice?

The chemist perused the streets of the local market as a start, not looking to buy, just looking to look as she passed by the vendors selling their wares.

When she had first moved to the cities, it had been a private game of hers to play "I Spy" and pick out goods and trinkets produced in her home district. There wouldn't be much in the way of clothing or jewelry, but every now and again she would come across an intricately carved, ironwood hair comb or a silver bracelet with turquoise accents that struck a feeling of familiarity in her. Not homesickness, since she didn't miss living in that dead district, but just a stroke of recognition that she knew only she could identify. Even the vendors couldn't say where they had gotten those particularly pieces.

She would see more of her home district in the food markets with produce like dragon fruit and grain. However, there was one item that she could always pick out easily amongst any market. Unbeknownst to the general public, the Kin were actually responsible for producing one of the most highly sought after luxury items within the walls: chocolate.

The Kin grew and cultivated any and everything that could survive the sun and droughts: corn, grain, locusts for chicken feed (and sometimes human feed), scorpions, fruits produced by cacti. Chocolate had been their bread and butter, though. Trade between the cities and the wasteland was still technically illegal, but chocolate was just too valuable of a commodity. Naturally, it had sold extremely well within Wall Sina. Within Wall Rose, it only sold in the upperclass markets. It wasn't entirely unattainable for the non-rich, but it was still a pretty penny and really only something bought for very special occasions like a birthday or a wedding.

Marceline herself was fortunate to have been born in the district that it was made. Chocolate had been a staple of her childhood and she had been able to enjoy it in many different forms; cakes, cookies, candies, hot chocolate in the winter. The Wasteland hardly offered anything good, but this was one exception. They also used to make a rather nice wine as well.

She had no idea what happened to Aspity and the rest of the Wasteland after Wall Maria fell. She had already been living in Mitras at the time. She could only assume that the people had perished like everyone else who didn't evacuate in time. The price of chocolate had skyrocketed after Maria, and it was finite now, so the price would only go higher until it was gone completely.

Chocolate no longer being made would probably be the only evidence she would ever have regarding the fate of her home district.

Marceline looked over her shoulder to see if the Lieutenant had managed to catch up to her, but he hadn't. She would have to hurry and visit the shops she wanted to before he turned up and ruined her fun. She strolled the street as she went over her list in her head, her heels clicking against the cobblestone and her skirt swishing around her knees.

"Sally?"

That bottle of vinegar was still at the forefront of her mind. She could really use a weed killer for her garden. Galileo was doing a fine job with pest control, but she was getting tired of pulling weeds everyday.

Maybe she should look on main street. It was pricier up that way, but her chances of finding a bottle would also be higher...

"Sally!"

But then again, maybe she shouldn't stray that far. She wouldn't want to make it too hard for the Lieutenant to find her...

"Sally!"

Marceline's head snapped up, finally answering to her old Mitras moniker.

She knew that voice. She turned and scanned the crowd, searching faces until she found the one calling out to her, waving his arm above his head.

It was Stuart Hastings; an old employer of hers.

Her eyes widened and she felt a wave of dread come over her. Someone had recognized her. This could be a problem. Not only did Marceline know him when she was going by Sally, the man was practically there for Sally's conception. They went way back.

When she had first arrived in the cities, she had initially found work as a maid until she was able to land a job as a shop girl for Mr. Hastings at his chemist's shop, in Karanes District. She spent her time there learning all she could from him and experimenting with chemistry. Although her resources had been limited, she was able to create more than a few interesting inventions that quickly drew curious eyes and business for Hastings' shop. It wasn't long after word began to go around that she was then discovered by Dr. Vernon of Vernon Labs and was taken in as his apprentice.

The near-middle aged man pushed through the last of the crowd to get to her, looking frazzled but excited, his brown eyes gleaming.

"I thought that was you, long time no see!" he greeted, slightly out of breath.

"Stuart - I mean, Mr. Hastings," she managed to say. Her posture was rigid and her smile was forced, but she affected the jolly tone that people had come to known Sally for - sort of ditzy, but undeniably genial. "I can't believe it, it's been so long!"

Mr. Hastings was a noodle of a man with a skinny frame and long limbs. Entirely unremarkable with round-framed glasses and a smile that was mostly hidden behind a busy mustache. He had brown hair that was starting to grey at the temples, cut in a tidy fashion and stuffed under a boater hat. It was like they hadn't even gone a day without seeing each other, he looked exactly the same as he had five years ago.

"I never thought I'd see you here in Trost of all places. Had enough of the high life in the capitol, aye?" Hastings had the same tone as her, but his was entirely authentic. Scientist types always gave off an erratic energy.

"Oh well, you know..." she trailed off with a dismissive wave of her hand, purposely flippant. She affected that air of being too popular for her own good that Sally had, slipping into it like an old shoe. Mr. Hastings clearly hadn't heard the news that Sally Monroe was dead, otherwise she'd imagine this interaction going a lot differently. "Variety is the spice of life, they say. It just gets so hard to breath there, I have to get out every now and again."

"Ha, ha, right-o," he nodded. "You look amazing, by the way. I see you changed your hair again, I think it suits you better than the blonde, but then again, you always know what looks best. It's certainly better than this grey ol' mop," he laughed, lifting his hat to show off that his hair had gotten more grey since she had last seen him.

Of course Stuart would recognize her, even after a handful of years. He had known her back before she had gotten her Mitras makeover and started wearing the blonde wig with the spiral curls, before she had accepted and embraced the gloriousness of her slim figure and ample chest and hid them under ill-fitting clothing that was cheap and lacking style.

"How's the shop?" she asked.

Maybe if she kept this casual, she could slip away quick and unscathed. It was good to see Mr. Hastings again, truly, but just looking at him brought back memories she would rather forget. She hadn't been making or taking drugs while under his tutelage, that didn't happen until she started working for Dr. Vernon, but it didn't matter. She had to force herself not to flinch every time he called her Sally.

"Same as its ever been. After you left and took that brillo mind of yours with you, I'm afraid that I haven't been able to churn out anything new or hip for the young people. Everything I've got is as old as me!" he said in gist, "but it runs well enough to keep bread on the table."

"Oh Mr. Hastings, you never seemed old to me," she smiled at him, "and the wife?"

"The same as well, her bark worse than her bite - usually," he scratched the back of his head and gave a pained chuckle before perking up and looking at her brightly. "I've gotten back into tinkering if you could believe it. I know you said it's what I'm best at, and I think I have a real shot at making something people would be interested in this time, but she thinks I should stick with working the counter. She's never understood me like you do."

Marceline nodded along with her hands held patiently in front of her. Stuart was known for going off on tangents. It made him seem scatterbrained, which he was, but he was very smart. The tinkering he spoke about was his work with apparatuses. He had quite the talent for it, Marceline had even said so herself. He had the dream of one day finding work in Mitras, but his downy wife lacked his ambition and was keen on keeping him right where he was. She remembered all the times the woman had snapped at her for encouraging his delusions. It was one of the reasons he had taken a shine to Marceline - well, Sally, because she believed he could be more if he really wanted to be. It was good to see that his wife hadn't beaten that light out of him.

Mr. Hastings' eyes flickered from hers to somewhere over her shoulder and she knew immediately what had caught his eye without having to look for herself.

Before either man could speak, Marceline took a step back so that she was shoulder to shoulder with the Lieutenant, and kicked off the introductions:

"Mr. Hastings, I would like you to meet Lieutenant Levi Ackerman of the Survey Corps," she gestured to him like she was his personal hype-man.

(She hoped that he would chalk her change in demeanor up to reuniting with an old friend, and not her altering her personality to mimic someone who was endlessly positive and outgoing.)

The older chemist's eyes light up. "Oh! So you're the cause of all the hullabaloo in the market today. It's a great honor to meet you, Lieutenant! Should've figured someone important was roaming about."

Levi sized Stuart up with a critical stare, but once he deemed the man harmless, he switched to his usual bored look. He crossed his arms and mumbled out a gruff "likewise."

"Don't mind his sour attitude," Marceline told her former employer, slipping her arm under one of the Lieutenant's and hooking them together. From a passerby's perspective, she was regarding him with a fond look and her gesture had been one of affection, but Levi could feel her nails biting into his arm through his jacket in silent warning.

Marceline wondered if the raven-haired Scout had taken the time to address every person who had approached him in that crowd, or if he had forced his way through without so much as a "you're welcome". Probably the latter. He couldn't have had worse timing. Stuart and the Lieutenant were entities from two vastly different worlds that she didn't want clashing.

Mr. Hastings looked in between the two with interest. "Wow, I never would've pictured Sally here with a soldier."

He noted to himself that they looked good together. Both were conventionally attractive and dressed so tastefully, you almost didn't notice that she stood an inch or so higher than him in her heels. The Lieutenant was shorter than he had expected, but his gaze was intense.

Levi raised a single eyebrow in question. "Sally?"

"Oh no, Mr. Hastings," Marceline laughed almost neurotically, shaking her hand, "Lieutenant Levi isn't my boyfriend! I've been doing some, ah...commission work for the military. The Lieutenant is just a colleague. A temporary one."

"Commissioned by the military! My, that's quite a change in direction. Good for you, I'm sure you're going to do great things that'll make us all proud, you always have."

Marceline's smile faltered, thrown by the man's warm words.

"Thank you, Stuart." It wasn't true, she had done nothing worth feeling proud of, but she was touched anyways.

"Well, it was great seeing you again, Sally, and meeting you, Lieutenant," he nodded at them. "I better get back to my errands before it gets too late, but feel free to drop by the shop any time, I'll give you a discount!"

"Bye, Mr. Hastings, have a lovely rest of your day," Marceline called to his retreating back, smiling and wiggling her fingers in goodbye. As soon as he blended back into the market crowd, her smile dropped into a dispirited frown.

She could trust that Stuart wouldn't go spreading the word that Sally Monroe was very much alive and now working with the military. He had never been one for gossip.

The Lieutenant didn't miss a beat, always ready to challenge her over every detail that contradicted what he knew to be true about her.

"Why did he call you Sally?"

Marceline pretended to be careless as she answered: "Oh, Sally was the name of the other shopgirl. Mr. Hastings was always terrible with names, he would get us mixed up all the time. I honestly stopped noticing after a while."

She pretended to tease the loose strands of hair that had fallen from her updo and look not at all interested in his reaction. He seemed to buy it, thankfully.

It really was nice to see Stuart after all these years. If only Marceline had been by herself today, they could've spent more time catching up. The Lieutenant was too sharp. It was lucky that Stuart hadn't revealed her full alter ego, first and last name. If the Lieutenant decided to be just a bit more suspicious, he could have Erwin look into it, and from there, it wouldn't be hard to make a connection between Marceline Russell and Sally Monroe.

It saddened her that it would probably be best if she didn't visit him. She had buried Sally back in Mitras and that was where she would stay. Besides, she had never treated Stuart like he deserved, nor had she ever thanked him for everything he had done for her. Dr. Vernon may have paid for her education at the university, but it was really thanks Mr. Hastings that she had a career at all. He had seen her potential and had given her chance when no one else would. When someone smarter and more influential came around, Sally was out the door. Now, as Marceline, she felt guilty that she had let him fall to the wayside once she had moved on to greater things.

Even after everything that had happened, he still thought she hung moon. If she thought she was even remotely worthy of such high regard, she might've married the poor fool.

"Oi," the Lieutenant's voice got her attention back. "Don't think this blast from the past made me forget the stunt you just pulled."

She looked back at him innocently, affecting a cute stance with her hands laced together. "What stunt? I was just expressing my awe of you for everyone to hear. Was that wrong of me?"

"You think you're just a clever little shithead, don't you?" He glared at her.

"How was your meet and greet?" she asked.

"Horrible. A lady wanted to name her unborn child after me."

"Aww," she cooed.

"Shut up."

The corner of her mouth quirked up, but she didn't tease him further. Instead, she looked at the buildings around them and realized that she recognized where they were.

"Hey, there's my old shop," she pointed at the storefront on the corner of the street. The purple awning was gone and it was now a butcher's shop, a rare sight given how limited meat was in Wall Rose. "Aw, it used to look so pretty," she lamented.

"By the looks of it, a big sweaty man who makes a living handling other people's meat is running it now."

"Haha," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes at his bad joke.

"Do you miss it?" he startled her by suddenly asking.

She thought about it for a moment before replying with a shrug. "It doesn't matter if I miss it. My shop was on the verge of going under when Erwin approached me. I would've lost it one way or another. At least I didn't end up homeless."

If he was surprised by this revelation, he didn't show it.

"You were making bank in Mitras with another shop, you said."

She really didn't want to talk about that. The Lieutenant seemed to be in a relatively decent mood and she didn't want to ruin it by bragging about the small fortune she had made, especially since she had made it by selling drugs.

"Yes, but making money came more naturally to me there," she sidestepped his question. "Mitras' economy is a joke, and I've always enjoyed telling jokes. If you think I'm bad now, you wouldn't believe how I used to be before I came to Trost."

He scoffed. "I never found high society's sense of humor funny."

"Yeah, me neither," she agreed with a sigh.

"You're one to talk, you make a spectacle of yourself," he said, "People laugh at you, they think you're a joke."

That could've been true, because he had caught more than a few people staring openly at the woman, but those were typically from men and there was really only one reason they would be staring at her, and it wasn't for a good laugh.

"Oh I know they do," she replied breezily, unaffected by his cruel interjection. Someone was clearly still sore about being outmaneuvered. "I know that people are in awe of the whole thing. They laughed even harder in Mitras. I didn't come from a distinguished family and my financial stability wasn't a guarantee like it was for my peers. I was flying by the seat of my pants most of the time, but I'd like to think I have a great deal of class. I do it because I like it. I don't like being like anyone else, lest of all another uptight, dowdy scientist type in a lab coat. Life isn't monochrome and neither am I."

She knew that she was an anomaly in the Scout Regiment, a spot of color among white and black and fatigue tan. She knew that there had to be some ridicule towards her for wearing skirts and heeled boots while everyone else was battle-ready at all times. How she stayed up most of the night and slept in until noon in a very loose sleeping routine while they were up by the crack of dawn without fail. There were no drills for her. No expeditions, no risking her life. No matter how many friends she made within the regiment, it would always be clear that she didn't belong in the Survey Corps.

"In any case, the joke is on them, because I know exactly what I'm doing and I can change it any time I want."

The Lieutenant only grunted in response, not giving anything away that would help her guess what he was feeling or thinking. Perhaps he admired how she dared to be different even if she was made fun of. Or perhaps he thought she was just an attention whore. She would probably never know.

They turned away from her old shop and continued their way up the street that ended in a staircase leading up to another level of shops.

"How does a chemist from Karanes factor in to your career?" he asked as they mounted the stairs, Marceline taking the lead. He stared at her back. "He didn't look like much of a big-shot."

"Skill or no skill, I'm still a woman, Lieutenant, and no amount of money is going to change that. I had to start from the bottom and work my way up. I worked as a shopgirl for Mr. Hastings until my talents were discovered by a more prominent chemist, one who had the connections to get me into the chemistry program at Stohess."

"So you dumped Hastings for him?" he challenged.

She halted on the stairs mid-step.

"Yeah," she said, not looking back, "I did."

~O~

After visiting a few more shops, they resorted to just walking the streets. The Lieutenant said it would help past the time, but Marceline knew he was just afraid of staying in one place for too long lest he be recognized again.

She had finally gotten something to eat and was munching on a bag of roasted pecans as she walked side by side with the raven-haired Scout. There was some light conversation, as surprising as that was, but for the most part, they walked in a comfortable silence.

At one point, the topic of Erwin came up and Levi revealed that he had initially thought that she had been the blonde's side-piece when the Commander had first approached him with the idea about bringing in "outside help". Levi hadn't known exactly what he had meant by "outside help", but he figured Erwin was smart enough to get away with a bit of nepotism.

"Does Erwin fancy anybody?" Marceline asked, popping a pecan in her mouth and licking the salt off her fingertips.

"Hell if I know. He usually avoids relationships like that. A lot of us do."

"But he's so handsome, he must get offers all the time."

The Lieutenant clicked his tongue, "Tch, they usually back off once he gives them his 'I must put my duty as a soldier first' speech. It's just obnoxious enough to send women running for the hills, either that, or, they discover that his eyebrows are not indicative of his dick size."

"They're not?"

He pulled a face that was close to being baffled. "How the fuck would I know? I've never seen his dick."

"What about in the showers?" she asked, as if it was perfectly normal to leer at other people while they bathed.

"We've never used the showers at the same time, and even if we had, I wouldn't have looked."

"Why not?"

"Is that what women do in the showers? Check out each other's tits and coin purses?"

"Yeah, but it's done more out of envy or aesthetic appreciation, or disgust if someone goes too long without grooming themselves. There be some major bush in this regiment."

His face twisted up in distaste. "I thought young women were taught to speak properly in Mitras."

She stuck out her tongue at him, showing off bits of chewed up pecans. He curled his nose even higher and muttered "disgusting". She chuckled as she downed the last handful of pecans. After she disposed of the bag, she wiped her hands together to get rid of the residual salt.

"Do women ever comment on your height?" she asked. It was a question that she had always wanted to ask. Now seemed right, since they were experiencing a rare moment of civility towards each other. She wanted to learn more about him.

"Why are you even asking that, you're short, too."

Marceline threw her head back and laughed haughtily. "Oh, Lieutenant, we both know that it isn't the same thing."

She didn't mean to sound cruel, but it was true. A short man wasn't the same as a short woman, but in the Lieutenant's case, he had more than enough to compensate for it. He was incredibly strong, and strength was a far more attractive trait than height. If she were to ever take a lover, she would want to feel safe with them. She would like to be gathered up in their strong arms and feel like there was no safer place on earth.

"I've had more than enough time to accept my height because it'll never change, unlike everything you got." He gave her an unimpressed once over with his eyes. "Your teeth will fall out and your breasts will drag on the floor when you get old."

She snickered, not at all put off by the interesting image. He had pointed out her smile and her chest, suggesting that those were her most attractive features. Many would agree with him, she supposed, but she felt the corner of her mouth fighting to curl up with a genuine smile at the flattery. She remembered when she had caught him peeking down her shirt. Did the Lieutenant have a penchant for generous busts by chance? How deliciously male he was under that despondent persona.

"That's why women have kids as soon as they marry," she said. "They're the only thing that keeps men around after our looks go, or at least that was what I was taught in Mitras - along with how to speak properly, of course."

"You women are so cynical. You all spout nonsense about wanting romance, but really, you're more dog-eat-dog than men are. I don't think I could come up with something more pessimistic than what you just said, and I've watched people die."

"Well, aren't you so smart?" she said teasingly. "It's true, women are more likely to say they want romance, but then pragmatically chose their partners. I've seen it happen. I would be listening to an acquaintance of mine gush about how much fun she has with her father's farmhand and how great the sex is, only to then marry a man infinitely more boring but infinitely more rich. It's fascinating, really."

"Hardly," the Lieutenant disagreed.

"Personally, I don't care if my future husband is rich or not." She clasped her hands together and looked towards the sky with dreamy eyes like a school girl with a crush. "He'll be a strong, smart, wonderful husband who'll think I'm the most beautiful woman in the whole world and who will love me and my saggy breasts."

"Hmph, he sounds like a pussy. Good luck with that."

"And besides, I wouldn't be so quick to make fun of me losing my looks. Don't fellas lose an unattractive amount of elasticity 'down there' when they age?" She pointed downwards in emphasis, cocking an eyebrow.

"I don't know; I don't have a subscription to Drooping Dicks Digest. I guess it'll just have to be a happy surprise."

The sun overhead was finally beginning to set as the district started winding down for the evening. The streets weren't as busy anymore and the people who recognized the Lieutenant seemed satisfied only shouting out their thanks rather than approaching him.

"It's Lieutenant Levi of the Scouts!"

"Thank you, Lieutenant!

"Is it true that you once took on fifty titans at once?"

"How many bastards did ya kill last time?"

"Who's that woman with him? His wife?"

"Are we finally going to get Ackerman sons?"

"Try our figs! They're a natural aphrodisiac!"

Levi clenched his teeth to keep himself from saying something he shouldn't. That last question was one that he had been getting a lot as of late and it irked him that they only asked because of how much older he was getting. It wasn't as common as the cries of gratitude, but he would get the odd comment every now and again, asking when he planned to settle down and squat out a couple of brats of his own. His last name only seemed to exasperate the issue.

One moment they were hunting Ackermans in the streets, and then the next they were calling for them to screw like bunnies. People were so weird.

Marceline smiled and looked at the Lieutenant. "Ooh, we're getting Ackerman sons? I didn't even notice. How far along are you?"

"Shut up," he snapped, grouchy. "Nobody is getting anything from me."

"You don't want children?" she asked.

"I'd rather shit in my hands and clap. They're messy and annoying and they put their grubby hands on everything, and even if they weren't, there's no way I'd help bring a child into this world, not even I'm that cruel."

She blinked at him and frowned. "What's wrong with the world?"

He gave her a look like she was insane. "This world is fucking horrible, that's what's wrong with it. Any minute, a titan could show up and kick another hole in the walls and then hundreds will die. I'm not going to sweeten the deal by giving them a baby appetizer."

"We don't know that for sure."

"We don't have to, the idea alone is bad enough."

She shook her head. "That shouldn't be an excuse. If everybody decided to stop having babies because of what might happen, then there wouldn't be a humanity to protect."

"Tch."

Marceline found she liked the idea of the Lieutenant having children. They'd be so cute! Running around with little scowls on their faces, kicking people in the shins and demanding tea.

"Everyone seems confident that your offspring will be soldiers like you."

He clenched his jaw at her use of "will be", like him procreating was an inevitability despite his vehement protests. "Over my dead body they would."

Marceline cocked her head at this, interested by his response. "You don't want your children following in your footsteps?"

"No," he replied. "I would want them to take their footsteps and keep them as far away from mine as possible."

"You're being dramatic," she accused.

"I'm being realistic. My life isn't something that should be emulated, I'd rather them be literally anything else.

"You would rather them be anything else?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so what if you had a kid and they came to you saying they wanted to be - I don't know, an artist or something? You would be totally fine with that? You, who couldn't care less about the arts?"

The Lieutenant stopped walking and fixed her with a glare. "You don't seem to understand just how many people I've had to watch die during my time in the military. I don't care about living behind a strong family lineage, or a good reputation, I don't need little copies of me enlisting in the military just because they think it'll win my approval. I wouldn't have children just so I could have someone further fuel my ego for generations to come like those aristocrat families behind Wall Sina."

He started walking again and she followed.

"I suppose you're right," she conceded.

"Besides," his eyes darting downwards as he murmured: "an artist wouldn't be so bad."

They lapsed back into silence. There came a walkway with a stone retaining wall. Marceline easily mounted it with her heels, putting her at higher ground than the Lieutenant as she walked along the ledge like a child walking a sidewalk curb. She walked with her hands held out at her sides as if trying to maintain balance, but the ledge with more than thick enough to stay upright on.

"Hange thinks you have a sweetheart you're hiding somewhere," she said, watching her feet.

"Hange needs to mind her own fucking business," the Lieutenant replied, then grumbled, "shitty gossiping women."

"Do you and Petra have a thing? She's always around you, hanging off your every word."

"A thing? You mean are we fucking?"

"That's usually what people mean by having 'a thing' with someone, but yes."

He glared up at her and Marceline braced for him to knock her feet out from under her. "She's my subordinate, that would be very fucking inappropriate, you cow. I should kick your ass for even thinking I'd be that irresponsible."

The witch could be forgiven for not knowing the intricacies of a soldier's life. There were most certainly liaisons going on within the regiment, within all the regiments. The more controversial ones were, of course, held tightly under wraps, but as for the others, as long as STD outbreaks and pregnancy rates remained at a low, there was never much prevention done for keeping people from doing what they were going to do.

Like a lot things, it mostly had to do with what rank a person was. Levi used to screw around when he was a private. Everyone did. It didn't cost money and was more convenient than requesting time off to go visit a brothel, and there wasn't any concern for drama or caught feelings since a Scout's life expectancy was so short, it never became an issue, but once he was promoted to a rank of significant authority, he stopped. It wouldn't have been professional of him to continue and he wasn't going to give anybody the opportunity to accuse him of taking advantage. That was the MP's shtick. He'd sooner lick the bottom of his boot.

Civilian women propositioned him on the regular, whenever he left the headquarters, but he turned them down as well. There were too many variables to keep track of for his comfort, and he also didn't need one of them going to the papers for their fifteen minutes of fame and having his bedroom habits plastered on the front page of the newspaper for all to see. No, he exclusively visited a brothel in the uptown part of Trost where they were clean, quiet, and most importantly, discreet. Those visits were few and far between these days.

"Why is everyone so invested in my sex life?" he asked.

Marceline shrugged her shoulders. "Downside of being a famous bachelor, I guess. Maybe you should get married, you're getting kinda old."

"Are you fucking Bodt?" he countered with a sneer.

Marceline was so surprised that she didn't have a chance to stifle the laugh that bubbled up her throat and out of her mouth. Marco? Fucking? Those two words did not go together. He seemed more like the "lovemaking" type, with his thoughtful and gentle nature, but even then he would still probably blush at the notion. The sweet lamb.

"Do you honestly believe Marco has it in him to have an affair with an older woman?" she asked, sobering up. "I just feel at ease with him and I enjoy his company; us children of Mars have to stick together, after all. Besides, I'm fairly certain that Marco is a bit...funny."

"Funny?" he echoed, cocking an eyebrow.

"Funny."

She figured that he might not pick up on what that meant. It was typically used among women in polite society to refer to men who were...decidedly less invested in women than most. It wasn't the type of thing that you wanted to start baseless rumors about by calling it what it was.

"I thought Bodt was from Jinae."

Marceline couldn't help but laugh again, only this time she managed to capture it behind her hand. "Mars is a planet, silly. I know you said you had no money growing up, but Mitras has public libraries."

"Not sure what good that would've done since I didn't know how to read, but thank you for making me relive my shitty childhood struggles. And what the hell is a planet?"

"You see the stars?" She gestured towards the night sky. There weren't as many stars visible since they were in Trost, but there were enough.

"Of course I see them."

"Well, some of them aren't really stars. They're planets, which is what we live on, celestial bodies. Like one big floating rock."

The Lieutenant gave her a dubious look, clearly not believing her.

The stars were...well, they were stars. Little lights in the sky. He never thought much about them beyond that. They have only been accessible to him in recent years, since leaving the underground. There was the sun and the moon and the stars, and they...he frowned as he realized that there was a lot he didn't know about the world around him. He had to stop his thoughts from snowballing into existential ponderings.

"Here," she stepped behind him. She put her hand on the shoulder of his jacket and trailed it down until she was gripping his wrist. He tensed up underneath her fingers, but didn't show any other outward signs of discomfort, nor did he try to move away. His hand felt surprisingly soft as she gently cupped it with hers and raised both of their arms towards the sky. She moved them until they found the star that her astrology charts claimed was the red planet. "You see that star right there? That's Mars. It's the planet right next to ours and the fourth planet closest to the sun behind Earth - our planet -, Venus and Mercury. There are at least three other worlds out there just like ours."

"Are there…people on them?"

"Maybe, nobody knows," she stepped out from behind him, staring upwards, "but I read that the sky is so vast, there could be hundreds of planets out there. Forget going outside the walls, that's where I want to go."

Levi didn't voice his opinion, knowing personally the longing one felt towards a place well beyond their reach, but he expressed his doubt. "Good luck getting there without a pair of wings."

She didn't remove her eyes from above as she absently replied: "the Old Religions say that's where we go when we die, up there."

"Oh yeah? And how would you know what the Old Religions say?"

She didn't respond. She acknowledged that she had said something she shouldn't have with bringing up the Old Religions, which was illegal, but it wasn't like the Lieutenant would go through the hassle of arresting her on that alone.

He scoffed at her disregard for his question. "Either way, it looks like you're not going anytime soon."

"Mmm." All she could do was hum in return. She would have to die to go there, but that wasn't an unattractive stipulation when you were a young woman alone in the world. She couldn't deny that the thought hadn't crossed her mind more than once. The drugs had helped calm her mind and prevent her from feeling sad, but there had been times where she needed to be sober and they were always daunting. It just seemed easier to lay down and never get back up.

"Ne, Levi..."

He turned to look back at her. With the sun having set by now, a new form of city life buzzed awake. The city glowed amber from the candlelight within the buildings and the lamp posts. From where they stood on a higher street, they had a spectacular view of the district. It served as the backdrop behind the chemist, illuminating her form as she looked up at the stars. The wind gently blew her skirt and hair behind her.

"Have you ever wondered would happen if the Survey Corp was able to complete its mission?"

"What are you going on about?"

Her eyes remained fixated on the stars.

"You and your men have fought so hard for so long to see the world outside the walls. But what if you don't like what you find? Have you ever considered that what we have is actually the best case scenario? That it can only get worse from here? Is the truth worth disrupting a relative peace?"

Levi broke the strange atmosphere by affecting a careless attitude. He moved down the walkway, flicking the end of her skirt before sticking his hand in his pocket.

"I'm not the person to ask that. I don't care about exploration and finding answers to pointless questions, or any of that. I just want to stop the titans from eating my friends."

Marceline didn't move as he passed by, watching his back.

She had never heard him refer to others as "friends" before.

He looked towards the clock tower building that laid nestled in the middle of Trost and could be seen from anywhere in the district.

"Alright, it's getting late, let's get the hell out of here before something annoying happens."

"Finally," she sighed in relief.

They began to make their way out of Trost, but while passing a vendor cart containing an array of colorful dolls and toys, Marceline stopped short and gasped in excitement. Levi looked over his shoulder. When he saw what had caught her attention, his eyes widened and he turned to face her.

"No," he told her sternly.

~O~

After leaving Trost, the pair were able to hitch a ride in a farmer's hay wagon back to the headquarters. The Lieutenant's horse walked along side the wagon tethered by rope. The man sat atop a crate with his elbows resting on his thighs as he glared unimpressed at the woman sitting across from him.

"I didn't think it was physically possible for me to hate someone as much as I hate you," he told her.

Marceline wasn't listening, too distracted by the object cradled in her arms.

It was a plush doll replica of Levi; his signature undercut cut from felt, slate eyes that looked just as tired as the originals, white and black uniform, and a forest green cloak with the Scout Regiment insignia embroidered on the back, draped over his shoulders. It even had a little frown on its face, a novel since most Lieutenant Levi merchandise incorrectly portrayed him with a goofy smile. Probably to make it more appealing for kids, but the smile was creepier than the frown, he thought.

The woman selling the dolls really knew her stuff. He'd appreciate it more if he didn't have to watch the witch fawn over it. She smiled down at it as if it were her newborn child.

"Oh, he's so cute!" she cooed, hugging it tight. And just when she had been imagining a bunch of little Levi's running around, the universe delivered.

The doll looked like it was ready for the sweet embrace of death as it was smothered in between the woman's breasts.

Since she had been accompanied by Humanity's Strongest himself, the lady had all but threw the doll at her, urging her to take it for free. She missed out on a sweet deal, because Marceline would've traded the real Levi for the doll.

She sighed in content.

"Today was a good day."

"Shut up."