Dea woke up feeling suspiciously warm. She opened her eyes to the sight of a wall, which made her squint in confusion. Hadn't she been facing Deacon all night? She was sure of that on account of their unexpectedly-close sleeping arrangements. She went to move until she realized she was pressed against something. She tilted her head to see a gloved hand spread lazily on the pillow above her. Her heart pounded at the feeling of Deacon's presence behind her. Her face flushed under the mask.

She must've tossed and turned in her sleep and rolled over at some point. With her limited range in the cuffs, she moved right into his arms. But why had he not awoken her when it happened? She couldn't blame him if he chose not to. Their current position was pretty comfortable…It's no wonder why she was feeling so well-rested.

She began to wonder when was the last time she shared a bed with anybody, and if any of those times had ever felt as pleasant as this. The curve of her back fit so naturally against his frame…it felt right.

She was brought back to reality when the Spymaster shifted slightly. She couldn't control her instincts and jumped a good foot in the air. They were on the edge of this small bed - and her sudden movement pushed her co-captain backwards, which sent them both falling to the floor. She landed on top of him and heard the air physically escape his lungs.

" Dea !" He winced in pain. A cough escaped him before he could stop it.

" Shit ! I'm sorry!" She bolted upwards, looking at him with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

His eyes began to well up and he went to sit, moving Dea along with him in the small space between the bed and the wall. He moved his free hand over his chest and pressed down on it, wheezing louder this time.

"I'll have to get this taken care of, that's for sure." His blue eyes moved to hers. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"No, I…"

She paused. Should she even mention their cuddling? Surely he had been aware of it?

"I thought I heard something."

He rubbed his face under his mask and went to stand. She followed the movement until they were both on their feet. A quick glance out of the window showed it was bright outside - late in the morning if she were to guess. This was the longest she'd ever seen Deacon rest. He must've been comfortable if he slept in with her. Dea had a smug smile on her face as he buttoned his cape over his shoulders and grabbed his gun off of the table.

"We should be in Valencia by now. First thing we'll do is get these blasted handcuffs off."

She couldn't help teasing him. "-And get you a backup keyring?"

He scoffed. "I never want this to happen again."

"Why is that? Was it so bad being cuffed to me?"

"I'd rather it not have happened at all ."

She grabbed her things and followed him out. They were greeted with the gorgeous sight of Cadiz. Dea felt small under the tall architecture of King Casimir's castle behind the hefty walls. She had never actually been here before…not many Armada soldiers in her position could claim the privilege. Only the highest Elite and guards managed their way here. If anyone else did…it was not for a good reason.

The ship was already secured, so all they needed to do was disembark it. As soon as they were standing on the docks, they were approached by the same jester from last night. He didn't have a smile on his face this time. He quickly stopped them and insisted they speak privately. He and Dea stepped to the side to share a closed conversation.

"Kane has called for you both," The Elite informed them. "And I should warn you…he doesn't sound happy."

"Does he ever ?" Deacon replied, sounding tired. Dea's anxiety was getting worse by the minute.

Phule laughed, clearly trying to diffuse the situation. "Never with me, at least. Ah…and by the way, he has the keys you need as well. So you'll have to see him to solve this little 'situation' of yours."

"Great." He muttered, clearly displeased with this information.

"Good luck to you two. I hope you make it out alive."

He patted Deacon on the back and gave a sympathetic shrug to Dea, trotting back to his ship and spinning the marotte in his left hand. He was clearly glad it wasn't * him * in trouble this time. Dea heard the man beside her take a deep breath as they stood there and took in this information.

"It'll be okay, right?" She asked weakly. She was starting to become uncertain herself.

"That depends." He began walking. She allowed him to take the lead, unsure of her surroundings and where to go exactly.

"..On what ?"

"If he'll take it easy on you once he's through with me."

"Deacon…" She bit her lip as the guards allowed them clearance, stepping onto Cadiz' streets and heading straight towards the Armada base. The sight of the building was intimidating and caused her to lose her breath, momentarily forgetting her words.

He turned to her after this long pause. "Yes?"

"No matter what happens…we'll get through this together. Right?"

He swallowed. "Of course."

After some reluctance, they both stepped through. Inside was a special sight, as this was no ordinary Armada station. It was their central base where the Supreme Commander usually worked and sent his orders. Hearing from or being anywhere near it wasn't good if you weren't stationed there. Since Kane spent most of his time here, it was their most extravagant and largest center of operations. There were various Armada projects sitting around and large clockwork gears rotating on the walls.

The possibility of being discharged was brought into her mind again. She was desperately hoping for the best outcome. A backup plan or two wouldn't hurt, either…

"Welcome," A man approached them carrying a clipboard, writing on it while addressing them with a nod. "The Supreme Commander thanks you for your reporting. You may wait for him outside the office"

" Grazie ."

They moved to a closed door in the back of the building. She glanced at Deacon as soon as they took a seat. He was bouncing his leg and looking around, clearly as nervous as she was. Maybe even more so. Who knows what was awaiting them beyond this door…a moment that will determine their future that remains completely out of their control.

His hands kept smoothing over his pockets, particularly the one on his left side. Dea opened her mouth to say something to try and calm him down, but he handed an item to her before she could.

"Take these from me. Please."

In his hand was his pack of cigarettes. She wasn't surprised he had them after all this trouble, but was shocked that he wanted her to confiscate them. He gave her no choice as he practically shoved them in her hand, then looked away and drummed his fingers on the seat. He was avoiding even the sight of that box. She decided to discard them for now.

"..Do you need some gum?" She offered.

He shook his head. "No. I…need to have all of this over with. It's the waiting that kills me."

She was the opposite. She wanted to remain here by his side for as long as possible. She'd like to be back on the ship with Deacon and their crew, doing what they've done for so long…living blissfully on the waters, singing to pass the time as they sailed from island-to-island. She longed for that life again, and hated that it was far out of her future now.

She thought back to their morning and wished to be in that bed again, to live in those peaceful minutes before they had to come to this…it brought back a topic she avoided and blushed as she tried to control her breathing. What would come might separate them entirely, and she * had * to make her feelings known. She figured rejection would hurt less than getting fired.

She glanced at her partner again and found he was a mess. His head was buried in his hand, bouncing both of his legs this time and refusing to sit still. She knew he wanted to pace around…he had that habit when they were strategizing together or something was on his mind. But he couldn't do that right now, and with the cigarettes out of his hand, he had little options.

"Let's think of something we could do later, after we make it out of this." She brought up hopefully.

He snapped out of it and looked up at her, confusion clear in his eyes.

"I have an idea," She leaned towards him, masking her nerves with a playful attitude. She prayed it would work and that she appeared confident, despite wanting to melt into a puddle onto the floor right now. "-You should take me to your place."

He corrected his posture, eyes never leaving hers. "-My place?"

"Unless you're a drifter, like some have said about you..?"

"I have a home. It's just…" His eyes went to the floor before he shook his head, brushing off whatever it was that he was thinking. "Yes. We can do that."

"And you can show me your violin!" Her eyes lit up remembering this detail. "Will you play for me?"

He finally relaxed in his chair, making Dea smile in relief. "Only if you'll sing for me like you promised."

"We have a deal, espía."

The door opened a minute afterwards, but no one was there to greet them. All Deacon heard was the sound of fingers snapping and footsteps leaving, and he was on his feet in an instant. Dea was a little slower and he had to tug her along, leading them through the doorway. The hallway wasn't unbearably long, but it felt like time had slowed with each step they took.

There were gorgeous paintings and portraits hung around, which slightly eased Dea as she admired them. The Emissary recognized his father's works and chose to ignore them, not wanting to lose his focus right now. He was rehearsing what to say in his mind - determined not to slip up in this exchange. Misspeaking to the Supreme Commander was * not * a pleasant mistake to make. He'd know that more than anyone else.

When they were at the end of the hallway, they heard voices coming from inside the room. He recognized them immediately. What threw Deacon off was that it sounded like Kane and Queen were in the middle of an argument, their tones raised and harsh Italian words being thrown at each other. The spymaster stopped in his tracks as sweat formed from behind his mask.

This was not good. Kane and Queen rarely ever argued with each other. And if it was over him …

"What's wrong?" Dea whispered.

"Give them a moment," He insisted, moving them out of the way.

This was a wise decision, as a tall figure came rushing into the hallway a few seconds after. Dea recognized Queen when she stopped at the sight of them, her mask held away from her face. It was the first time she'd ever gotten to see it, and she couldn't help gaping at the beautiful woman. It was no wonder why she was admired so greatly in the Armada…Dea wished she could be as gorgeous as her someday.

"Oh, you two," She sighed, stepping forward and crossing her arms. She didn't seem to care about holding the Colombina mask right now - which proved how fussed she was over whatever happened. " Scusami tanto."

"What happened?" Deacon asked. It was a unique situation for Queen not to be upset with them if Kane was right now.

"He insists on being difficult.." She clenched her fists before exhaling to soothe herself, bringing her brown eyes over to Dea. "Be strong, no matter what happens."

"You're not upset?" The smaller woman squeaked.

"They're just thugs and Pirates, dear. The Armada will eventually get them. I know some will cause more trouble than others, but.." She clenched her jaw and shook her head, apparently choosing not to derail this conversation. "Good luck."

She carried on, moving out of their sight quickly. Deacon had a sense of foreboding as they approached the open door and let themselves in. In the middle of the room stood the Supreme Commander himself. A gloved fist was on his hip as the other held the keyring that they needed. He was observing it quietly, choosing not to address them when they moved in his line of sight. He stood tall and self-assured, the insignia catching nearby light and glistening on his uniform. Dea had never met Kane before…and now that she was in his presence, it felt like she was facing her executioner.

Deacon verbally announced their arrival. "We're here."

The Commander finally looked up. His blue eyes observed the Spymaster before piercing through Dea's wavering, green ones. She corrected her posture when his attention was on her, having forgotten the formalities in a moment of panic.

"Sir, Commander, Sir!" She saluted with her free hand, standing at attention while Deacon kept good posture.

"At ease, for now." He directed, moving towards them in a few graceful steps and holding up the key to their eye level. "Tell me how this happened."

Her partner took the liberty of explaining. "We were plundered by Boochbeard's crew and he managed to get ahold of one of my cuffs. Gandry swung off with my keys and used them to free our prisoners."

"I see."

Not another word was spoken as he reached forward and clasped the chain holding them together. He inserted the key into the lock and freed the restraints from their wrists. It fell off into his hand. They rubbed their skin that the metal had blistered and worn in this time. It was a blessing they were finally removed…but the tension had yet to dissipate from the situation.

The air felt thick as he handed the cuffs to Deacon, who pocketed them promptly. He turned from them to face the window and clasped his hands behind his back. A mask covered half of his face like Phule, but unlike the jester, he was not as expressive. His face was neutral, despite the annoyance laced in his next words:

"The two of you are nothing but incompetent. I am sure you understand why I came to this conclusion."

"This is not her fault," The Emissary was quick to defend, stepping in front of Dea to separate her from Kane. "I was the one who chose to pursue Boochbeard when she advised me to flee."

"I am not happy with your substandard behavior as of late, Deacon." He snapped. "Boochbeard is nothing but a vagabond, and yet you struggle to get rid of him while Rooke is defeating entire armies."

He lowered his head in shame. Dea boldly stepped to the side so she was next to him again, bringing up her next point weakly:

"I do not think that is a fair judgment to make-"

Kane moved his attention to her and she nearly fainted on the spot. Whatever she was going to say failed to leave her lips. She was intimidated the instant he looked at her and felt her knees buckle when he took a few steps forward.

"Remind me of your name," He commanded.

"Codename 'Dea' , sir.."

"And how did you get into the Armada?" He implored, leaning downwards to look her in the eye. This was the most afraid she'd ever felt in her life. She had to return the moisture in her mouth.

"I was promoted by Queen, sir."

"You can see that she is not here right now." Dea looked around and nodded at his words. "I will not be showing you the same mercy my wife has. You could not prove to me that you were as qualified as you promised; therefore, I share no obligation to hold onto the promises she has made you."

"I-I understand…"

He stood to his full height and took a step back. It wasn't hard to see the disappointment in his expression.

"You were initially given three months to track down and arrest the prisoners previously lost to the Erebus' sinkage. You were granted more time due to medical leave, and * yet * the both of you have failed to deliver what was expected."

Deacon spoke up. "It was not intentional. We were nearly done with our mission, we had every prisoner onboard except-"

"And that 'one' prisoner who is missing…" He removed his arms behind his back to cross them over his chest. "Tell me who that is ."

He struggled for a moment, recalling the names of all of their convicts. It wasn't an easy feat, and Dea knew she would never come up with it herself.

After a minute, he snapped his head back up. "The Pirate I arrested for trying to smuggle weapons for the Resistance."

"-The Pirate." The Supreme Commander repeated. "Are you aware of their presence in Skull Island, and their threat to our current excavations?"

"Yes." He nodded.

He knew because of the check-ins he completed, learning from his men that their supplies and locations were being intercepted by a young pirate. Had he the time and resources, he would've started tracking them down himself, but prioritized gathering his other criminals instead. It hadn't been that big of an impact back then, and it was only a child, he reasoned.

That was when he paled. Had he made the wrong decision? Judging by the tilt of Kane's head, he apparently had.

"Due to your negligence on * not * capturing the Pirate in time, they have placed themselves a threat to our bigger plans. They've been obtaining a crew to aid in their efforts and have already killed several of our troops. They will continue to interfere the longer they are allowed to live."

Dea's eyes widened as she looked between them, understanding how drastic this was. She didn't know much about the Pirate, just that they were the youngest prisoner onboard the Erebus. The one they were saving for last, and were too late to reach…

"I promise you, Kane, this will not happen again. I will do everything in my power to-"

"-You can hold that thought. I won't listen to it."

Her partner slumped as he turned his back to them, striding to his desk and grabbing some papers. Dea gulped as she caught sight of what he was holding - it could be nothing else but her discharge papers. The way he regarded her certainly proved so.

"Dea, you will be given compensation after your leave, in gratitude for your service to the Armada." His eyes flitted up to the man across from him. "As for you , Deacon…"

Before the Supreme Commander could utter another word, the door to the room burst open. It was accompanied by the sound of jingles from various bells frantically bouncing around. The three looked to find Phule rushing into the room. He stopped in front of Kane and bowed respectfully to him.

"So sorry to disrupt his * very productive meeting *, but I have urgent news to deliver to you, father."

"What is it?" He asked, clearly annoyed at their interruption.

"Rooke has found The Executioner. Theirs ." He gestured to the two with his hand. "He was able to fend off Boochbeard and his men, although the man himself and his accomplice made a getaway. As I'm sure you'd expect."

Deacon and Dea were gaping at this news while Kane shifted his weight to his other foot. "Where is he now?" "He towed what was left back with him to one of our fortresses. He's currently awaiting further command."

"Tell him I will be there shortly." He nodded, dismissing the jester from his sight.

Once they were alone, he brought his gloved hand to the bridge of his masked nose and closed his eyes. He was clearly contemplating on what to do, so neither of them said anything. After a few seconds, he let out a deep sigh and turned back to the two in front of him.

"Both of you will be put on standby while I sort this out. I will enlighten you on any further news, but expect further action to be taken tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." Dea bowed at him, ever so grateful for this turn of events.

"Thank you." Deacon copied the gesture.

"Don't thank me just yet. If those prisoners are not with Rooke, then we will proceed with prior matters." He flicked his wrist towards the door. "You may take your leave."

They were grateful to be dismissed. They took their leave as soon as they could, refusing to look back as they left the office. They shouldered their way through the commotion of soldiers and generals until they were back out in Cadiz. Dea took a grateful gulp of air when they were outside - tears growing in her eyes in the knowledge that it was all over. For now.

"That…was not easy."

"It never is." The Emissary shook his head, grabbing his pocket watch to check the time. It was past noon.

"Is it bad to be put on standby?"

"It's better than what was going to happen. I just hope Rooke has those fugitives. I'm not sure what I'll do if he doesn't."

"I have hope in the General," Dea responded, patting his shoulder comfortingly. "If he took back the ship, then I'm sure he didn't let many escape."

He looked down at her and asked, "You still want to go to my place?"

"You live here in Cadiz?"

"I do…"

"Then let's go."

He summoned his cane as they walked through the streets. Dea found no shame in admiring her surroundings, getting to explore this part of Valencia she thought she'd never step foot in. The gardens here were beautiful and she even found assortments of lobelias that vendors were selling on the street. She thought back to her time in the hospital, when Deacon got them for her. The memory brought butterflies to her stomach.

She caught sight of King Casimir's castle again. That place was another matter…there was no way she would ever make it past its walls. It was strictly royal guards and Elite clearance for any member of the Armada to be in there.

She looked over at Deacon and pointed towards the massive structure. "Can you go inside?"

He followed her view. "Yes."

"Have you ever visited the castle?"

"No. I haven't set foot in there for a good two years, I think." He noticed her pause and elaborated. "There's no good reason for me to be there unless the King needs to know something and no one else is there to tell him."

"King Casimir…is he a good man?"

"He's trusting and a little gullible, from what I know. I don't really talk to the royals that much."

"-But I bet you know plenty about them."

"Queen pays most attention to the gossip, but any vital information makes its way to me."

Dea stopped asking questions by this point, as they were past the castle and were now passing through a courtyard. She didn't know where his house was, but figured they didn't have long to go.

"When I asked about your place, you seemed a little…unsure. Why was that?"

He hesitated. "Because I don't live alone. It's a family estate. But with how things went just now, it should be pretty empty."

"Family? So…" She narrowed her eyes, piecing the puzzle together. "The Elite live together? In one house?"

"Mansion," He corrected. "It was most convenient since we work together. But we aren't usually living there…it's complicated."

"Right. You and I were lodging together for the past four months or so." She pointed out. "...You aren't home much, are you?"

"No, not really."

They turned onto a street to see an impressive residence sitting a mile away. It looked like any typical abode the rich would live in, with the exception of more security, as Deacon had to unlock the gates, use a key, and scan his thumbprint to even get into the yard. From there, she admired the small garden out front and fountain with birds bathing in it. There were so many flowers…she wanted to admire them all.

"You weren't kidding," She commented, eyes lighting up as she drank in the sight. "It must be a shame to never be home to this."

"Quite the contrary," He mumbled from behind her, watching as she attempted to sniff some of the jasmine.

"Who takes care of your gardening? It's wonderful work; my mother would be jealous."

"A servant. We only have a few, and they're on a tightly-monitored schedule."

He tilted his head as she indulged in their garden. It was a beautiful sight…seeing Dea surrounded by butterflies, holding the stems of flowers in between her gloved hands. She was trying to get a good sense of their smell through her mask. He plucked one nearby and handed it directly to her, so she could lift the thing and get a true appreciation for it.

She did as he expected and let out a satisfied exhale. He dipped his head and led her straight to the front doors. Thankfully, he kept his house keys much closer to himself so no one would ever be able to take them from him. He took a minute to find them and gained access inside, allowing her to go first.

As expected, she was gawking at everything in their view - or at least he assumed so, from her widened eyes and prolonged staring at their chandeliers. He moved past her and took a look around for himself, keeping an ear out to hear if anyone else was home. All was quiet for now…he could only hope they would have some privacy. Kane shouldn't be anywhere near the house for some time.

"Where did you get these?" He glanced over to see her observing the paintings lining the wall. "I've always wanted art like this, but my family insisted it was too expensive to collect them."

"Kane painted everything in this house."

She wouldn't stop gazing at him. He pictured the dumb expression that must be on her face right now and held back a laugh.

"Your dad is a painter..? He's the Supreme Commander, he wouldn't have time to make art, would he?"

"Kane used to be a full-time artist. He only paints when Queen asks him for something. Otherwise, I never see him do it anymore."

She let out an impressed whistle, moving on and following him to begin their small tour. He was thorough with this process, showing her their kitchen, dining room, home library, the sitting rooms, guest rooms, and wine room. She was particularly interested in the home bar they had adjacent to the large living room.

"Ooh, espía. I know what we're doing tonight." She rubbed her hands together.

Seeing her standing in front of a bar brought him back to their time in Cool Ranch. He chuckled at the prospect. "I appreciate you not wanting to get drunk in public this time."

"You have everything ! Please tell me you know how to serve drinks."

"I should ask, do you intend on staying the night?"

She froze at the realization and slowly turned to him. She became bashful, worrying if she had overstepped any boundaries. "I was hoping to, if that's alright with you..?"

There was a lot going through his mind. He was glad she wanted to stay here, but also nervous on the account that he hadn't planned for such a thing. He never thought Dea would take a step into his home. He was surprised she asked to be here as it was…he was certain she'd want to return to her apartment after all of this. Regardless, he was grateful for her company, but was just a tad confused on what she was trying to achieve here.

Did she want an evening shared between them as work partners? Or was she trying to get more comfortable and familiar here? If the latter was her intention, he would gladly make that happen.

She began fidgeting with her dress as she waited for his response. Deacon snapped out of his overthinking. There was no chance he would deny her this invitation.

"Of course. You can make yourself at home."

She winced. "-Would it be alright with Kane?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

She relaxed and took one final glance at their alcohol selection before joining his side. The final thing left to show her was their living room…he saved the best for last because that was where their grand piano sat. He was in the mood to play again, wanting to unwind from their stressful morning. He stepped into the room and proudly presented the instrument to her.

"It's beautiful!"

He got to work making sure it was in tune. Since he wasn't here that often, he made it a habit to check whenever he had the chance. He cared for this thing like it was his own child. Dea watched as he prepared to adjust a few strings. This was a timely process, so he gestured for her to take a seat on one of their couches in the meantime.

She was still looking around, keeping her interest mainly on the man and the piano. She was itching to hear him play again…to watch him work his magic like he had done before.

"What do you usually play when you're home?" She asked.

"I play from my books. It's hard to stay in practice, so I play for as long as I can." He waited before adding, "-I also perform during our house parties. We don't have many now, but I'm appointed to this when we do."

"Formal ones?"

"That's all we ever have." He laughed. "What you heard me play that first time…you will never hear again. Kane would kill me."

"Mm. He's not a fan of saloon music?"

"Nothing but classical pieces when he's around."

A comfortable silence rested between them as he tuned the grand piano. She was still admiring the paintings and books this family had. All in all, she was impressed with his home…she'd seen the rich Valencian families and estates here, but doubted she would ever be allowed into one. This was nothing like she imagined. She was glad she'd gotten him to agree to this…even though she hadn't fulfilled what she wanted to yet…

She was still uncertain each time she thought about confessing to him. If Deacon didn't return her feelings, would it ruin the friendship they currently had? It took so long to build this, the constant trial-and-error and deep conversations to gain the trust between them…she didn't want to lose that. But she didn't want to lose * him *, either. Two hours earlier, she'd almost been dismissed from the Armada entirely. Where would she have gone? Back to Monquista? It hurt thinking how she would've missed him.

"Dea?"

She jumped at his voice. "Y-Yeah?"

"Do you need anything? A drink?" He was trying to fulfill his duty as a host, feeling a little guilty he'd gotten distracted. "We have a pitcher of fresh water in the fridge if you're thirsty."

"A glass would be nice…I'll get you one, too. I know you haven't been staying hydrated, espía."

He couldn't argue with that. She left to the kitchen, trying her hardest not to get lost, and filled a couple of glasses with cold water. She returned to find Deacon getting more than comfortable with the piano. She offered him his glass and he took it with grateful hands, drinking it like he hadn't touched a drop in days.

He probably hadn't.

She tilted her head, a frown settling on her lips. "..How are you feeling, by the way? Your chest..?"

"You aggravated it this morning, but it's gotten better." He brushed her concerns off too easily for her taste. "I'll see someone soon, if I can."

She could only take his word for it, grabbing the empty glass from him and setting it aside. She watched him work for a little bit more before he announced he was finished. She was excited as he prepped the piano, taking a seat once everything was ready and brushing his cape behind the bench so he could position himself properly. She plopped down right beside him - as she had the first time he'd done this with her.

He didn't mind her company, brushing off his gloves and moving his hands to rest on the keys. He began playing a piece he knew by heart - Bach's Prelude No. 1 in C Major . He was certain Dea didn't know what it was, but she was hypnotized all the same. A serenity washed over Deacon as he played, forgetting how gratifying this was and how badly he had missed it. He became lost in his performance, absorbed in the melody himself and allowing his muscle memory to do the work for him. It took a few minutes until he finished - and by then his partner had a dreamy look in her eyes.

"That was amazing," She complimented. She didn't know how else to describe it.

He thanked her and tested a few more of the keys, proud that he'd accounted for everything. "You promised you would sing for me. Would you be comfortable doing that now?"

"Oh.." She blinked, swallowing down her nervousness. What was the big deal? He heard her sing on the ship all the time. "What would you like to hear?"

He looked away. "..I composed a piece, but never had anyone sing the lyrics for me. I'd appreciate it if you did."

She might've fallen in love with him right then and there. "..You compose music?"

"I never have the time nor the tools for it. This is the only piece I've managed to write."

"I mean - yes! If you're fine with me doing that…"

He dipped his head, told her to wait there, and then left the room. She heard him climb up the stairs - likely to his room - and waited for his return. She tried not to squirm in her seat, feeling her heart beating intensely against her ribcage. Knowing he wrote what she was going to sing made Dea afraid that she wouldn't meet his expectations…that she would butcher something that was meant to sound delightful.

He came back with two pieces of paper. He settled one carefully on the music rest. She looked at the sheet he'd written by hand, unable to make any sense of it. He passed her the other, which contained lyrics that he had also written in pencil. She sat there admiring his writing for far too long, admiring how neat and elegant his cursive always was.

"-Is it acceptable?" He asked after a moment, hunching his shoulders in uncertainty. She took this opportunity to actually * read * the lyrics she was holding.

It was nothing she would've expected from him. A song about feeling a sense of belonging in life, to be at peace with one's self. She was impressed with his writing and could only imagine what the music sounded like to accompany it.

"I think this will do," She responded with an air of tease.

He visibly calmed down at her approval, taking the sheet from her and putting it alongside the other one. That way, she was able to keep track of both the notes and lyrics. He gave her a nod before moving his hands, waiting a few seconds before beginning the song. The introduction flowed smoothly and she eventually followed her cue.

She was focused on the paper as she sang, following the lines and darting her attention to the other sheet during each pause. Deacon's eyes had left the keys and settled on watching her, completely enamored with her voice. He couldn't believe it was his own words she was singing this time…when he wrote this a year ago, he couldn't imagine who would sing it. He made it with the intention of hiring someone, but never pursued that, in fear of getting ridiculed for his first work. There were plenty of experienced songwriters and poetry makers in Valencia, and he was not one of them.

Seeing Dea hadn't openly derided his work was promising. He was a little afraid she would be judgemental of it, but felt ridiculous with how quickly she agreed to lend her voice. And the result was better than he could have ever anticipated. He couldn't move his eyes even if he tried. He was thankful he memorized this composition after practicing it in secret for so long.

" WILL YOU KNOCK OFF THE- Oh. Hello ."

They jumped when someone screamed at them from the doorway. They whipped around to find a tall man peering curiously down at them, his goggles shining from the nearby sunlight of an open window. He brought himself into the room upon their attention, clasping his hands together and politely keeping his distance as they recollected themselves.

Deacon rolled his eyes while Dea tried to catch her breath. Figures he would've missed Bishop being home. He was probably studying or reading quietly upstairs while he'd been showing Dea around.

"Who is this?" The tall man pried, moving his attention to the woman. His plague doctor mask followed the motion. She was too busy marveling at it to answer him.

"This is Dea. And Dea, this is my younger brother, Bishop."

"-Bishop?" She repeated in shock. "I've heard of you…you're the inventor for the Armada! You modeled my pistol."

He lifted his head in thought. "Yes, that must have been the derringer. That was the latest weapon I've completed." He looked back down between them for a second or two. "I did not know Deacon brought a guest."

She stood and brushed the ends of her dress down with a flustered smile, offering her hand for a proper introduction. "I'm sorry to intrude-"

He shook it so quickly that she had no time to return the gesture. "I apologize for the interruption. Sometimes Phule likes to mess around while I am trying to write. This explains why the piano actually sounded… in-tune ."

"Phule's been playing with it!?" Deacon groaned in frustration. "I'm going to kill him…"

"I shall take my leave. Should you need anything, I will be in my room."

He turned on his heel and walked away briskly. Dea glanced at Deacon before looking back at the piano. He followed her line of sight and gathered the papers before returning to the doorway. The moment was lost, but they could circle back to it later.

"I have something else to show you," He told her, motioning her to follow him.

Dea tailed behind Deacon as they climbed up the stairs and walked down the hallway. This was where most of the bedrooms and guest rooms were, from what he told her. He went to the very back and opened the door to the left, walking inside and setting the papers down on a desk. She followed him and took a look around. It was no doubt his room - with a full-sized bed, desk, bookshelf, closet, and a large window. Everything was tidy and organized, albeit a bit dusty from his absence.

She removed her shoes while he reached under the bed and took out a large violin case. Her excitement returned at the sight. He leaned down to pop it open and she gasped at what she saw.

It was a custom-made violin, she could tell from its material and special gear decorations. It was in such pristine condition that it looked like it had never been played at all. He checked the hygrometer as she took a seat on his bed, watching him gently pick up the instrument and inspect it for any imperfections. He seemed pleased, plucking the strings to see if this one needed any tuning. It was likely that it did…he figured he would spend most of his day doing this.

"Out of curiosity," She crossed her legs and leaned forward. "How much does that cost?"

"Almost as much as that piano. It's my most prized possession."

He normally tuned his violin using the piano as a reference, but stuck to a different method for this occasion. He didn't want to pester Bishop anymore than he already had. He would have a bone to pick with his older brother once he had the opportunity…he didn't like anyone else touching that thing, besides Kane and occasionally Bishop. He sighed as he got to work tuning it while Dea glanced around his room.

"This is kind of boring," She feigned a yawn, leaning back onto the covers. "All you have are books? You don't collect anything?"

"Like I said, I'm not home terribly much, so I don't keep a lot here."

She leaned down to peek under his bed. "Is there anything else under there?"

He swatted her away. "Some magazines you might not appreciate finding."

She laughed and backed away. It took a bit until he was finished tuning it. Once he was done, he stood to his feet and reached for the bow. Dea perked up from her spot on the bed, eyes intent as he positioned himself on the chin rest and readied his hands. His blue eyes flitted to her uncertainly before he took a deep breath, then began playing.

She was honored to have a front row for his performance. The sounds it made were mesmerizing. She admired his frame situated just before the window. Sunlight poured into the room and swept around him gracefully, allowing it to hit the white of his mask and make it appear as if it were glowing. Dea found herself suddenly fawning over this angelic view provided to her.

When he was done, he lowered the bow and violin to his side, gauging her reaction. Or whatever he could manage beyond the mystery her expression held. She blinked a few times, realizing it was over, then provided him a small applause with her gloved hands.

" Bellissimo ! Take a bow!"

He rolled his eyes before giving her a slight bow, which made his partner titter in delight. He returned his instrument into its case and carefully put down the bow with it. He heard her disappointed sigh. He only hesitated once before shutting it and clipping it back down.

"I try not to keep it out for too long. If we have any time later, we'll get back to the music."

She rested her head in her hand, kicking her legs lazily from the edge of his bed. "Thank you for playing for me. You're really talented."

His face got hot under his bauta mask. "Why exactly did you want to come to my house?"

She looked away to rub circles into his comforter. "To hear you play…and I didn't want to leave you so soon."

He tilted his head amusingly. "We were handcuffed together for several hours."

"And it's a miracle I never got tired of you..!"

He shook his head and slid the case back under his bed. He unclipped his cape, rested his cane against the wall, and set his gun down on the table. Once he was comfortable enough, he joined her side on his bed and clasped his hands together. He took a look around his room and noticed it was pretty…boring and empty. He didn't decorate his space, but he would've put in a little effort, had he known he was going to try and impress someone like this.

"What were you thinking of for dinner?"

"Since we're in Valencia, I'm in the mood for Italian," He could hear the grin in her voice. "Why don't you take me to one of those fancy restaurants?"

"You want to eat out?"

"Yes." She paused for a heavy moment. "...But only if it's a date."

He blinked a few times, her words throwing him back. Then he realized what she meant and cleared his throat nervously. He tried his best to keep his composure, and act like he * hadn't * been pondering this very suggestion upon bringing up the subject of dinner to her.

"Are you asking me out?" He teased. She must've caught his tone and returned it playfully.

"No. I'm making you ask * me * out. Now, go on. Ask me to dinner."

He eyed her coyly before asking, "Dea…would you like to go out with me…to a fancy restaurant?"

"Why, espía ..! I thought you'd never ask!" She placed a hand dramatically to her chest.

They both laughed, enjoying how little tension there was despite the big question that came with it.