The delicious smell of chocolate drifted in the air, tantalising. Jolyne's grumbling and Gwen's carefree laugh, fleeting around the cooking area, sold the culprits; just one last report, and he might allow the treat to coax him out of his office. The women wouldn't deny him whatever they were cooking, especially if he offered one of his charming smiles.

In the meantime, he returned to his last absence sheets, allowing the sweet smell to lull his senses. Tōga always possessed a keen nose; he could detect a fire five miles away, and determine sicknesses and pregnancies with just a whiff. Of course, his dreams offered the perfect explanation for it, but he had yet to determine whether he was just plain crazy.

His ex-wife's judgement had crushed his self esteem more efficiently than the dozens of people and battles he'd lost during the war.

But somehow, as he tackled the most boring task of his life – administration – he could almost view himself with a brush, filing up feudal paperwork and peace treaties. Now that he was putting words upon the dreams, they became more vivid. As if, by knowing that someone was interested to know about it, the full story begged to be told. The idea that another would be soon reading such an intimate part of his past life – or his thoughts was refreshing and terrifying at the same time.

In his bottom drawer slept the first few chapters of the life of the Inu No Taishō. And even though he kept adding on the pile, he had not dared giving them away … yet. To think people trembled in their boots when he sneezed. But the great Captain, veteran of the Afghanistan war, feared to have his thoughts exposed. And, to be honest, he knew he wasn't a great writer. His own words made him cringe often, hopefully Gwen would catch the meaning, and set aside the poor form.

Would she ever look at him the same way? With this admiration that every young recruit blessed him with? Would he suffer through the pity Izayoi had directed at him, refusing to believe that karma had reunited them?

Tōga sighed, fisting a bunch of his silvery hair. Such a difficult choice; to bare himself to the scrutiny or protect what remained of his held together persona. But his soul howled inside; he wanted to be known. To be seen. And somehow, he thought Gwen was the safest person to be exposed to. Ever since he'd jumped to her aid, the past year, he was adamant that her piercing grey eyes had seen something. Her gaze always tore through his defences so easily.

She reminded him of the seers he'd crossed paths with in his old life.

Her laugh, tinkling bells rising to the heavens, effectively called him out of his den. She was such a quiet nature that the sound should be treasured. Leaning on the frame of his open door, Tōga took in the scene with a gentle smile.

Jolyne was cutting fruits in tiny pieces; kiwis, bananas, strawberries were laid down in mismatched bowls. Ignoring her grumblings, Gwen stood at the stove, her expression of concentration akin to a child's building its newest toy. Unlike the unit leader, the young woman wore a sundress that flared at her hips and stopped below her knees. Elegant, but without any poshness, the polka dot fabric clung to her in a way that caused him to realise how deliciously curvy she was.

"I could have done that by myself, ya know," Jolyne grumpily said.

"Tut tut," Gwen responded. "You always mess up the chocolate."

"You and your chocolate…"

Intrigued, Tōga strode into the common room. Towering over Gwen, he peeked at the saucepan she was using, finding luxurious, vibrant dark chocolate being swirled with a hypnotic move. The young woman was so concentrated on her task that she didn't acknowledge him. Given she wasn't in service, he just watched until she pivoted and gasped. Her eyes caught his, and he addressed her one with his non-flirty smiles.

"Chocolate?"

"Yes," she responded, a little breathless. "Er, can you pass the butter?"

Tōga shifted, finding the little cubes ready on a plate. Funny, how she dared ordering him around. Gwen oozed respect in everything she did, but she didn't fear him. What remained of her hero worship was slowly turning into a deeper-rooted emotion that baffled him. Still, he handed the butter and watched her turn the concoction slowly until the mixture took a shiny hue.

"Salted butter is pretty sinful in dark chocolate," she added, her little tongue darting out to take a tentative lick over the spoon.

Sinful. Right.

Tōga wasn't a stranger to flirting, and he'd witnessed games of seduction too many times to count. Women had done much bolder things to ensnare him, yet, it felt completely different. Was it the innocence of her gesture – as if she completely ignored his presence by her side, enjoying her little guilty pleasure in her own world – that baffled him so much?

Transfixed, Tōga almost jumped when Jolyne called out from her spot:

"Don't ever get between Gwen and her dark chocolate. I swear I've never seen someone so difficult with it."

"Sue me, the French have it all!" she quipped back, brandishing the wooden spoon to state her point. Tōga had to rein in the instinct to chase said spoon; he, also, wanted a taste. Banishing the memory of her little pink tongue, he shook his mind awake.

"The French ?"

"Do you know anyone that can make chocolate as fine as the French? They work it with just the right amount of cocoa. And they don't cheat about it either."

A puzzled Captain regarded her curiously, head cocked aside in wonder.

"Cheat? How do you cheat with chocolate?"

"Milk. Proteins. Hazelnuts. Lecithin. Anything that lowers the cost. Did you know that milk chocolate contains only 35% of cocoa? And even then, the percentage corresponds to the amount of cocoa powder AND cocoa butter, meaning they can play with the cost by changing the balance and…"

Suddenly, the little lady flushed, her head dipping forward in an adorable frown.

"Sorry. I'm a little of a chocolate geek."

Tōga laughed good-naturedly; her passion was a delight. To hear Gwen express more than her standard few sentences was a delight. And then, he realised nervousness had weighted down upon him for a while, and that he would trust this gentle, discreet and lively woman. It didn't hurt that she looked good to eat in that dress.

"I never knew the science of chocolate was so complicated. But anyway, what's this about?" he eventually asked.

"I lost a bet."

Tōga's eyes narrowed at Jolyne, digging a hole in the back of her head. If that bet was about his age again… Well, there was no going around it. Little by little, people pieced his past together; with his time in the army, the puzzle was getting clearer. Albeit he was very careful not to sell anything that might give an advantage – Stephen was the only one privy to his medical records – people still speculated. After all, he had commanded this unit for eight years already.

Settling at the end of the table, the Captain glared.

"What bet?"

Jolyne's blue eyes sparkled in glee as she smirked.

"Wouldn't you like to know…"

His stomach slightly lurched; there was something unsettling written on her features, and to ignore it didn't sit well with him.

"Jolyne…", he growled.

"Aha. That's between Erik and me. But his whole unit gets the treat, and Gwen might even allow you some if she's merciful. So don't go bashing any heads, Captain."

He lifted his nose in the air like an offended dog, and struggled not to smile when the little lady's laugh echoed in the room. Did it really matter what the bet was about when his antics could make her laugh like this?

The unsettling feeling returned when Erik and his unit came about, stealing fruits and dipping it in chocolate to their heart content. Genuine congratulations were showered over the ladies, especially about the quality of the delicious and luxurious chocolate. As he surveilled the room – he wasn't pouting, dammit! – at the very end of the table, Tōga reminisced about the day Gwen and Jolyne had become fast friends.

Unlike any type of bond, it had not come from habit or repeated memories. No. Their friendship had sprouted around a piano that lay in Herne Hill, one of those public instruments that awaited for someone to make them sing.

And damn, she made it sing. Gwen had asked for permission to play, and they're being in no rush to return to the station, he had relented. That little lady was so silent that she intrigued him.

She had started a haunting rhythm, something from a Norwegian composer – Gjeilo. And Jolyne… Jolyne had just decided to stand beside her, and started singing. Jaw slack, he'd listened to the amazing soprano voice of his unit leader. Gwen had smiled, a true, fond smile that had called a glow to her face, and a spring in her fingers. Then she'd added her voice to Jolyne, and the five-minute stop turned into a private concert that had caused his veins to flare with life.

Thus was born a beautiful friendship between two ladies that had nothing more in common than their love for music, and the way soprano and mezzo-soprano meshed together naturally.

And, apparently, chocolate and fruits.

"Want some, Taishō?"

Tōga straightened in his seat, facing the little lady with her saucepan.

"There's some left at the bottom."

He smirked. "Bring it down."

"Careful Gwen, the Captain has a sweet tooth. If you don't take your share, there will be nothing left."

"Hey! What about the privilege of the Captain?" he whined.

"Isn't that a privilege for the youngest lady?" Gwen retorted boldly.

Tōga froze. Kuso. She was so young; how could he forget so easily how many years, exactly, separated them? But when she dissolved into giggles, he couldn't help but smile. She offered him the wooden spoon he'd nearly caught in the air half an hour ago.

"Keep the spoon. I have long fingers."

He would have lowered his tone to any other woman, waggled his eyebrows, maybe. But not with her. There was something so incredibly genuine in Gwen that he refused to flirt. She just nodded, unfazed by the informality as they settled, side by side, stealing scraps of chocolate from the same saucepan.

And thus, any reservation he might have had about giving her the first chapters of his writings were abandoned around a delicious treat of dark chocolate. With the added salted butter, it melted on his tongue.

Delicious.

When Gwen returned home this very evening, she had no clue that her sneaky Captain had slid into her bag the first draft of his writings.