Chapter 6: Friends with Secrets

"Head bowed, Derek!"

Muir's father had a voice of fear. A true darkness to his bark that fevered all the Muir family in obedience. He started to say grace. The multiple crosses and frames of Jesus like propaganda. Glaring Muir down. He was reminded of the wills of God every waking moment of the day. So much they echoed to him when he was alone. Even in the peace of his thoughts, the Lord's scolding finger was still in his head. Making him question why or what he was made for. Why wasn't he made like other men? Why did all the values of love inside him rooted in sin? What would his father do if he knew? His mother and little sister? How many tears would they shed, and how many lashes of the belt would Muir receive? Now that he was thirteen and could no longer fight from the thoughts, he felt the crushing stagnancy. The feeling he was cursed. For the Lord had much forgiveness to spare, but none for the likes of him. The worst secret to sour on the back of his tongue and fester a rot inside. Especially with God's rule always blaring in the back of his mind.

Muir played Sexy Thing from Hot Chocolate on the jukebox for the crew lounge activities. Pool balls were being struck, darts thrown, and beer cans downed and discarded. The power had returned to Accommodation and wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. That was enough for the eager Beira crew to celebrate. Even though the night was enjoyed because of her – Josie was nowhere to be found. She was called to Rennick's office shortly after being treated by Trots. His voice a different kind of rage they'd only heard a handful of times. When they did hear it, they were certain Josie had touched the brink of no return. The two were known for squabbles. Sometimes it even felt playful. This time was different. Josie's future on the Beira was grim to many of the crew. They hoped she'd at least peek her head in and say goodbye before boarding the chopper to the mainland. Knowing Rennick, they may not be given at least that kindness.

"She's a badass," praised Caz before setting his beer down. "You should have seen the look on Rennick's face. Looked like he was about to spit a fireball."

Finlay had the tone of a disappointed mother. "She fucked up. I donnae think even Cadal and Oxford combined can settle Rennick's anger now. She made him a cunt in front of all of us. He's not gonnae take kindly."

Brodie agreed, "Now that she's gone, you should worry about yourself, Caz. Rennick will know you picked her side. I doubt firing just her will sate his bloodlust." He shook his head with a light scoff.

"If he comes for my pound of flesh then so be it," shrugged Caz. "Just means he's got absolutely no one with knowledge of leccy on the rig. If Josie's really fired… Jesus…, what are we gonna do about the machines?"

"Let's not think about it," grumbled Roy, "Leave it to Rennick. We don't own this death trap, he does. If he really is prideful enough to fire her then this rig is about to meet a strike of his own making."

Addair, Innes, Muir and Roper played pool, with Trots practicing his darts beside them.

"Her fan club is at an all time high now," groaned Addair in annoyance, "Honestly. She's a prat. Likely getting fired as we speak. What she did was a new level of stupid."

"Oh, come on, Addair," laughed Innes, "We all know you hate Cartier 'cause she rejected you her first month. If you had the chance you'd have a crack, we all would. Right, Muir?"

He answered back nervously, "Aye, right."

"I was being friendly!" Addair scolded, "She was new and I was checking up on her. Thought she was just a wee princess without a clue, turns out she's fucking Medusa. When has she ever been a team player?"

Roper jibed back, "When have you?"

That broke a few laughs from the pool table. Even Trots sniggered behind them. "Eh, fuck the lot of you. You know I'm right."

"So are we. You were the one calling her a redheaded Marilyn Monroe her first day, not us." Innes called out Addair again.

Addair grumbled, "Well, yeah. She's nice to look at, but when she opens her mouth, any attraction is out the window."

As the men continued talking of Cartier, Muir began to distance himself from the chatter. He was usually the life of the party. Speaking over voices and saying one thing after another with an excited banter. Innes was starting to notice it.

"You alright, lad?"

Muir spooked to Innes' hand on his shoulder, "I'm right. Yeah."

Gibbo overheard the chatter and came over with a teasing question. "Pick one. Cartier or Jane Fonda?"

Roper laughed, "That's not a fair wager!"

"You can only pick one. One night. And let's say Cartier and Fonda didn't remember when the night was over. Like nothing ever happened."

O'Connor came over with darts and asked, "And what about the wife?"

"She wouldn't know, either," winked Gibbo crassly.

Roper shrugged, "Seeing I basically trained that besom, I'll say Jane Fonda. Would feel strange with Cartier. She's the same age as my daughter and all!"

"Not for me." Gibbo chuckled, "I wanna see if the carpet matches the drapes, if you know what I mean. I bet Josie goes off like the Ganges."

O'Connor and Trots laughed in disgust, both telling Gibbo to shut it as he amusingly chortled. O'Connor said after, "Neither. I'll settle for my wife, thank you. No other woman can hold a torch, there."

Trots added, "Good on ya, mate."

Innes chuckled, "I'd say Jane Fonda. Josie's a bit too unpredictable. And she's French. I heard French woman donnae tame it down south. And you, Muir?"

Muir went stiff in nerves, "What?"

"Which one?"

"Uh…" Muir stalled, seeing all of the eyes eventually land on him. He muttered, "Jesus Christ, you're all a bunch of randy cunts. Have a sesh with your hand tonight, will ya?"

"We're in the middle of the fucking North Sea, haven't seen our women in months. Fuck, some of us donnae even have one. Give us a break!" Gibbo called over the pool table to Muir, getting an applause and cheers at the declaration. Muir simply shook his head in grief and continued to line up his pool cue. "Fine. Trots, how about you?"

Trots stiffened at the question and hesitated his throw of the dart, "Me?"

"Aye! Josie or Fonda? Who you Trottin?" Gibbo jested. O'Connor spat his beer and guffawed, with Roper hunching over in a hearty cackle.

Addair joined in on the fun, "The Union meeting of your life, Campbell."

Trots shook his head to the laughing jibes at his expense. He answered quite confidently, "My name crying out in a French accent? No contest. She'll be positively 'Trotting' for more when I'm done."

The men started to howl in surprise and praise in rowdy celebration. All excited to hear the eloquent Trots join the stag banter. Even O'Connor gripping Trots' shoulder like a proud dad (who was still trying to take aim of the dart board but with an amused grin).

All were laughing and smiling but Muir. He wanted so badly to join the fun. Perhaps make a raunchy comment in turn to show he was one of them, too. But the pull in his stomach made it hard to utter anything. Once again, the return of guilt raged in him.

"Derek! Look what I found!"

Darcy ran over to Muir outside the school grounds. The Aberdeen rain had gathered puddles in the muskegs. Perfect breeding grounds for amphibians. It was ten after the school bell for end of day. Muir was worried his school uniform would get soaked out in the building rain. He came anyway.

"What is it?"

Darcy held his hands up. They were closed over each other keeping something in. When he carefully moved his top hand back it revealed a small pine green frog. Muir awed and beamed a crooked grin. He went to touch it, but Darcy moved it away.

"Wet your hands first."

"Right," said Muir, "Sorry." He ran back to a dug out and slapped muskeg water over his hands. When he came back, Darcy came up to him. His brown eyes staring into Muir's own. "Open your hands."

Muir startled, "Uh. You want me to hold it? I don't know…"

"It's fine. He's a wee slippery but he's a good lad. Look at him." Darcy opened his hand, and the critter was still. Darcy called Muir's attention to his eyes again. "You sure you donnae wanna hold him?"

Even under the cool rain, Muir started to feel warm. Especially as Darcy curved a grin. He smiled back, "Aye. I can hold him."

Darcy gently set his hands over Muir's. A sudden pull in his stomach at the touch. Then Darcy unfolded his hand, and the frog settled on Muir's palm. Darcy's hand pulled back slowly. The graze sent Muir's eyes back to Darcy's face. He was wholly focused on making sure the frog didn't leap away. Muir's focus was entirely elsewhere. Lost in his features. He had a nasty habit of getting lost in his best friend's face for a while. Since they started grade 7. Yet Darcy was none the wiser. How Muir wanted to tell him. In 1960 it was never that easy. God's glare felt as if it could be right behind him. Even so, Darcy's smile harboured Muir in safety. Where even a bible verse couldn't stray his eyes away.

Ms. Parker called from the school doors, "Boys! Get on home before it pours!"

They startled to it and so did the frog, leaping out of Muir's hand. They both yelped and began to laugh. Muir felt like he could leap from himself, then. Be like a frog free and not judged. Only in Darcy's company.

Not anymore. Muir flinched awake at Innes' nudging.

"Time to wake up, lad. You slept a wee too long. Get a few bites of scran and meet me on the deck, eh?"

Muir nodded, "Right. Jesus… you just let yourself in now?"

"I'm not moving those pipes, meself. I'm your boss, not the other way around. Let's go, Muir! Bushy tailed and bright eyed now!"

Innes left Muir to tangle with his thoughts. A dream still remembered. Darcy's face now exchanged for another. A longing as Innes closed the door behind him. A subtle want that he would come back.

Muir did as he did every morning. Showered and got into his orange Cadal get-up. Went straight to the gallery for short work of his food. Then out into the Beira's mist. Wet and frigid. Another day leaving his joints aching. As he came down the steps, Innes' voice was the coffee he needed everyday. Even annoyed and barking orders as usual. It was a song in the pews. Even so, it was time to put on the other face. Stuff those feelings neatly away so he could do another graft without distraction.

"Aye! Sleeping Beauty finally emerges! Come get these pipes into the container, Muir. Before Rennick comes down here in a spat."

Muir made a lazy salute. He jested, "Would it be a bad time to say I gotta use the dunnie?"

"I'll put your head in the dunnie, mate!" Innes' blurt was overshadowed by Muir's laughter. "Come on, then. We donnae have all day. Shoulda pinched one off before you came out, I'll say."

"I'm just pulling your leg," chuckled Muir. He started on the pipes in a hurry. Innes silently observing him and the other deckhands. Making sure the hub of activity on the rig was operating smoothly. Irking the possible visit of their overlord up on his highest tower.

Innes' attention startled to Josie coming out to the deck. He gasped and smiled, "Jesus' name, the fuck you still doin' here, lass? We figured you were a goner last night!"

Muir startled from the pipes and laughed, "What the-! You weren't sacked?"

"Oh, I'm sure zats sad news for you all." She grumbled, "No. Capitaine is all bluster, you know zat. I'm here to fix zat shitty crane."

Innes glanced a look of shock to Muir, who merely shrugged back. Innes said, "Have at her, then, dear. Let us know if you need anything."

Josie gave a brief nod and marched to the crane controls with her toolbox rattling in her grip. Innes glanced over to Muir and said jokingly, "Might leave Jane Fonda in Vietnam, now. Gotta respect the diplomacy of France, aye?"

Innes slapped Muir's arm suddenly and cackled. He tried to flash a smile back, but Muir was trying to hold the discouragement in his throat. Far too distraught to wear the face – so he focused on his work. Despite the feelings so strong they could burst, there was no point in them at all. He glanced to Innes again. He was chatting with Boyd. Both their eyes and smiles to Josie on the crane. Just like all the men here. Yet, unlike Muir. He thought to himself then. What I'd give to have his eyes on me the way his eyes go to a woman. What I would do to join them and mean it. And just be normal.

The school bell rang the next day for home time. Everyone left the room in excitement for their after school activities. Including Darcy who ran ahead with the other boys. Talking of girls in school they liked or wanted to take to the dance next week. Muir was left behind. Setting his things in his bag like time had slowed.

"Derek? Can I talk to you a minute?" Ms. Parker asked from her desk.

Muir shot his eyes up and weakly replied, "Uh. Aye."

She came around the desk with her hands together. She didn't look upset. She seemed concerned. "You were not yourself today, Derek. I've been seeing it for a while… you've been struggling. May I ask what's going on? Is everything safe at home?"

"Aye."

"Then what's wrong? You barely touched your lunch, you didn't speak to your friends. Your homework has been… getting concerning. I just want to make sure you're feeling alright."

"I'm fine…" Muir sighed.

Ms. Parker kept a face that wasn't convinced. It started to seep through Muir's barriers. He said, "It's just… do you ever feel like you were a mistake? That… you're trying to be someone you're not. Because if you really were you, no one would want you around."

"What makes you feel that way?"

"Just… have you?"

Ms. Parker pondered the question for a while. Genuinely acknowledging it. "I think… we all have spurts of that shame. For many reasons. But no matter the reason, doesn't change we are all children of God and so cherished by our families and friends. We get into our heads and think the worst, when really what we see in the mirror is nothing like others see."

"But… what if I've been pretending to be someone, just so they can keep seeing the good?"

"Then that may be your problem." She added, "You shouldn't have to pretend to get people to love you for you, Derek. You need to be yourself. Be yourself, and good follows. It always does. It's when you hide and fake who you are that true happiness gets lost. You don't have to be scared of it, either. You'll be relieved when you start to open up. Maybe give it a try, eh?"

Muir lightly smiled to himself and nodded, "Right. Thank you, Ms. Parker."

Muir walked home from school with tears still falling down his cheeks. It was past dinner time. Darcy's home was over ten blocks away from his neighbourhood. In the moments to his front door, he hated himself for going there in the first place. He kept seeing the shock and disturbance in Darcy's face. The crack of his voice when he told Muir to leave and never come back. That he was no longer his friend. Ms. Parker's advice proved to be the greatest mistake. Then when he got home, he was faced with another consequence to that naivety.

Words like 'sick' and 'deranged' spilled from his father's mouth in scorn. They had received a phone call from Darcy's parents shortly after Muir had left. His mother was in tears. His sister frightened to the commotion downstairs as she cowered in her room. His father slapped the bible before him and told him of the sin. The eternity in hell. The disgrace to the 'Muir' name. In all the shamble, Muir was deadly quiet. Leaving his body to dissociate on the couch. Hating yet torturously agreeing with everything his old man had to rant.

Then their next course of action struck Muir like a school bus. "We will be taking you to the asylum outside Peterhead next Monday morning! This is a madness in you, son! We canny help you! Only the Lord's guidance. If you canny be retraced to the roots of Adam and Eve, then may He have mercy on you!"

Muir awoke in his cabin with a lather of cold sweat. He tried to steady his breath as his heartbeat pounded in his ears. The waves of the North Sea outside his window settled him down. There was some shallow chatter in the Accommodation hallway. He knew it was likely night staff and on-call. His clock read four in the morning. In two hours, he'd have to be awake and ready for work.

He was tired, he knew that much. But he couldn't sleep. He got up from bed and decided to trail the hallways. Maybe settle in the crew lounge with a bucky. He turned a corner towards the gallery and lounge and startled to a figure below. The lights were dim, so he didn't see it was Josie right away. She gasped and stepped back. The two nearly a foot from crashing into each other.

"Fucking Christ, Cartier!" Muir hissed and bowed his head.

She wasn't on-call. Her attire said that much. A tank top and pyjama bottoms like she just got out of bed. "What are you doing skulking around?" She hissed back.

"Me? Could say the same for you." He said, "Did you just wake up, too?"

She stammered, "Uh. Yeah." Then she asked in concern to the trail of sweat down his shirt, "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Had a bad dream, just taking a walk. You?"

She thought for a moment and shrugged, "I'm a night owl, I guess."

Muir settled himself against the wall and sat down before the bridge windows. "Figured you'd want to at least grab some sleep."

Josie hesitated at first, but eventually joined him on the floor. They both watched the rain slap against the window glare. Mutual silence enjoyed for some time. Then Josie asked, "What was your dream about?"

Muir scoffed and rubbed his forehead of the sweat. "Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing, copain."

Muir sighed out his nose and said, "I'm friends with secrets."

"Me too," she glowered to herself. "Ones I'm sure if you knew… you'd scourge my name around zis Beira until I was chased off."

Muir raised a brow, "No way that's true. We need a mechanic. What'd you do? Are you an axe murderer?"

"Worse."

"What could be worse than that?"

Josie gave him a side-eye. "You'd be surprised."

Muir hesitated in saying it. Remembering the last time he admitted who he was to someone. But Josie was in rare form. Any other time he'd stumble into her, he'd get a swift middle finger and a French curse. Definitely not a chinwag. She was making it too easy to be open. "Canny be worse than mine."

Josie snorted, "I seriously doubt that."

"If I told you mine, you'd be so… disgusted you would never talk to me again. Much less look at me. Especially with the rest of the crew…"

Josie said it suddenly, "You're gay."

Muir choked on his words and went silent. Flicking his fearful eyes to Josie. She had no curve in her face, whatsoever. She seemed bored, if anything. Belittling and firm.

"What?" He muttered. "No, I'm…"

"Yes, you are. I know."

Muir's cheeks flushed and he asked quietly, "How… how do you know…"

"We've worked together for eight months. In those eight months, you're the only guy on this rig who hasn't gawked at me up and down. Hit on me. Trailed me with their eyes. And you're not seeing a woman or married. A shame, too. You're the only one I found kind of attractive. I was guessing at my third month. Sixth or seventh I knew for certain you didn't play for my team."

Muir started to panic, "Do the others…"

"Nah. I mean, who knows? As far as I know, no one has said anything. I sink you're safe. Most telling was watching you follow Innes with your eyes like a famished puppy. Been that way for a long time, Derek."

"Innes? You think I have the hots for Innes? He's my boss."

"Don't insult me by lying, connard. I've seen it. You know it, and I know it. No point in keeping secrets now."

Muir sighed to himself then. All the walls he held up till now surely crashed down. "He doesnae see me."

"He's got an ex-wife. A daughter, too. I sink it's safe to say he's a vag-etarian."

Muir snorted behind his teeth and shook his head. "Aye, I figured that much, Cartier. Thank you."

"But you want him still?"

Muir muttered, "Aye…"

"Tough break, Muir. I… can't imagine how zat feels. I'm sorry."

"You're not disgusted?"

Josie blew her lips, "Pfft, why would I be? Like we're the only animal on zis planet to find fair in zee same sex. If God didn't want us doing it, why put a pleasure gland in zee asshole, huh? Why give some of us zee inborn desire to want to be with our gender if it wasn't allowed? Seems like a rigged fucking system, and if He wants to rig the game, fuck Him. And fuck the rest. Love who you want."

Muir couldn't help but curve a small smile. Then he thought something and asked, "Wait. Are you also…"

"No, copain. I love dick as much as you do."

Josie and Muir chuckled together. He warmed to know he may have finally found someone who accepted him for who he was. She asked, "When did you know you liked men? And not girls?"

"When I was… twelve, I think. I was raised in a Catholic household, too."

Josie chuckled in her throat, "Oh, shit."

"Aye. They were not happy. Tried to send me to some Catholic nuthouse. Thought I was insane. I'd ken they thought they could have me cured."

Josie winced to herself and whispered, "Jesus…"

"Aye. I ran away a few days after they said that. Never came back. Lived off the streets and hitched rides for some time. Did a lot I'm not proud of to survive. I was wayward until I found the rig. A drifter. Would have turned to alcohol and drugs if I didnae apply. I'm glad I did. I'd rather be here than be out there."

Josie didn't know why at first, but she took Muir's hand. Comforting his shaking voice after reliving disturbed memories. She knew too well the pain of being abandoned. Forced to fight for your own on your own. He tightened her hand back. "You know…" He started to smile, "Everyone says you're… a mocket or a mad frog. But you're actually… really lovely."

"So are you, Derek."

Muir let her take her hand back and wiped a tear growing in his eye. He asked her nonchalantly, "So, what about your secret? I mean I told you mine. Only right you tell me yours."

Josie smirked and shook her head. "Sorry, Muir. I knew your secret. You didn't tell me. You want to know mine; I reckon you'll have to find it out on your own, too."

"Cartier! To my office! Now!"

Josie was making her own time to the Installation Manager's module, cursing under her breath. He didn't even give her ten minutes after Trots determined she was healthy enough to go back to her cabin. The crew looked to her in worry. She was in trouble. Cartier's actions in the generator proved it. Yet it seemed the only one not worried was Cartier, herself. She was the child prodigy. The unaccountable party backed by the higher Cadal. To Josie, she was gliding on fire. Never to be pinned down or held to a consequence.

"Josephine Cartier! My office!"

She growled, "I'm coming, connard!"

She stomped up the steps to his module and didn't even knock, just let herself in. "Oui, Capitaine! You must be angry! Using the intercom instead of sending your lackeys! You must really want me to call you a cunt! Because you're acting like an old cunt!"

He said it calmly, shockingly curdling considering he always invited an argument. "Come sit."

"Zee fuck is this? You want to be friendly now?"

He clenched his teeth and pointed at the chair. "Sit."

Josie teased bitterly, "Oh, putain. You are angry."

She reluctantly flopped on the chair, crossing her arms and legs in such a demeaning way. Demeaning the meeting and demeaning Rennick himself. After some time of silence she asked, "Well? You want me here so bad. You mad about what happened in Engineering? Even though I fixed it. Me. I did. None of you managed it, but me. Yet you cry because I didn't listen to you. Is this the aftermath of your bruised ego, Capitaine?"

"Eight months." He said grumbled. Lightly tapping his finger on the desk.

"Huh?"

"Eight months," he said again firmer, "Eight excruciating fucking months you've been on this rig, Cartier. Making my life misery. When all you are is just a wee bairn not weaned right. Getting the world on a silver plate. Look around you. Everyone here had to work their arse rare everyday just to get here. And you…" His voice growled, "You've had it easy for far too long. And ye let it get to your head."

Josie scoffed scornfully and leaned forward. "Spare me. Spare me the zee lecture, monsieur. You say zat because I didn't get here because you hired me. You hate anysing you can't control. You're just bitter because you lost."

"I lost?"

"Oui! You lost, enfoiré. You lost the day I started working in zis shit rig you sink you hold some power over. Because no matter what you do, you can't get rid of me. It drives you… batty, doesn't it? And it's just too fun. No matter what you do, I will never stop. And the beautiful day we finally part ways, I will be in your head. You're nightmares. Reminding you were no match against me."

Rennick sneered, "You really are a bitch from hell."

"Karma comes in many forms, Capitaine. I'm yours'."

"No," his voice rumbled, "Not any longer. You made a mistake."

"Mistake?"

"Your insubordination was one thing. Not enough to take to Cadal to have you transferred to another rig."

"Because you'd have to explain cause for said insubordination, fils de pute."

"But today. Today you crossed the last checkbox I needed."

Josie's confidence flickered in her eyes. "What?"

"Termination calls for immediate execution when personnel perform tasks in willingness against their site manager, risking the lives of themselves and fellow crewmates. You weren't alone in that room. You had McLeary there with you. You jammed a fucking pole in the door! It was suicidal!"

"Merde! Caz was in zare willingly, he wanted to help!"

"Doesn't matter," said Rennick in a softer but teasing tone. "You still did it. You went against my orders and put yourself and another crewmate in a life endangering situation."

"What would happen if I left it, huh? It would have had to been fixed, regardless! I took initiative! We both did. I was the badass who risked her life to try and fix your shit! Again!!"

"It was not worth it, was it?"

Josie stood from the chair then, slamming her hands on his desk. "You're using zis as an excuse. You just want to be rid of me! You sink I won't fight zis?! You sink I won't make it my mission to burn you to za fucking ground?!"

"You can try all you like, you wee French cunt, but it wonnae get you far. There isn't a chance you'll be transferred. You'll be lucky to get another job in the industry again. I reckon Oxford would pull your grant, making your resume as useful as my fucking nips. You see, I got you now, Cartier." He stood slamming his hand on the desk, as well. A victorious finger pointed at her. "I fucking got you!" Josie could see her own irate horror in the reflection of his lenses.

"Va chier! Va chier, you fucking bastard! What would zis place be without me?! Without everything I've done! You think you can fire me? After how far I've worked on zis piece of shit, cheap fucking rig! All zee time I've wasted fixing gennies, drills, panels and cranes! Now you want to get rid of me?! Why?! You know better than anyone I am an asset!"

Rennick said it so coldly, "If only you knew how long I've been waiting for this, Cartier."

"I fix what twenty-year vets can't! I train, I advance, I am fucking good! You're willing to lose that over your own pride?!"

"You're damn right about that, you nade fucking twat!" Rennick's yell broke like a strike of thunder, "Whatever bluster you got is shite compared to the sweet silence of your absence! If you weren't so fucking arrogant, I would have loved nothing more than to see you bring profit. Because this… this is my rig! You couldn't just be a good little cunt and have respect for your elders! No. You're controlling, arrogant, confrontational, neurotic, and insubordinate! In front of the crew! Preaching you're God's gift when you're a fucking glaikit boot! You dinnae got smacked enough on the bahookie as a wean and it shows. You need a fucking lesson you won ever forget, Cartier. And it starts with me. You're fucking fired."

Josie let one tear to fall down her cheek before she gritted her teeth. Her throat ripped with a shrill. "You motherfucker! Je t'emmerde! You do zis to me?! You stupid fucking culé! Fuck you!"

"Cartier!" Rennick shouted before dodging Josie's utility belt that went flying at him like a diving bird. Josie threw with no resistance, and the impact dented the wall behind him.

"You mad fucking mocket! Get out of my office!"

"Fuck you, Rennick! You think I won't take zis to Cadal?! You entitled piece of shit!" She marched around his desk and waved her finger in his face, "You don't fire me. No! I quit, connard! You hear me?! I quit you! I quit you and your shitty rig!"

Rennick egged her on. "Oh, go on, then. Let's hear it."

"You fire me. Nothing stops me now from kicking your old crusty ass!"

"Ha! You wannae crack, lass, go for it! I'm not shy of biting back!"

"I knew you were a woman beater!"

"You're no woman. You're a fucking spawn of hell!"

Josie spat on his work coat and hissed, "I'm more woman zan you can handle, le chéri."

Rennick was almost unfazed by her glob of spit on his coat. "You're nothing but a fucking joke!"

"And you're an old culé! Old and bitter!"

"You're gonnae be a right nightmare at my age, bonny! You're already a cunt!"

Josie pushed him back suddenly, startling his speech. She hissed, "You're going to miss zis, Capitaine. You say you will not. But you and I both know you will. When I'm gone… you will miss me. You and I both know zat you loved zis!"

"I'm not gonnae miss you for a fucking day, Cartier. Not a single second. Fuck off my rig!"

"Oh, you're full of shit! Say it!"

"Say what?!"

"You know what!"

"Yer aff yer fuckin heid, Cartier!"

"Say it! Because you know I loved it, too," her voice started to die down, "Don't you…"

Rennick growled it taperingly, "Fuck… off."

She said it again. Far gentler he reckoned she could manage. But she did. "Say it, Capitaine. You sink I don't know what zis is? You were worried about me, Rennick. I saw it."

"What the fuck, Cartier."

"Why else would you have such a tantrum in rig module? Why else would you fire me? You were scared for me. You're still mad. But in zee morning… you will regret. I'm the only one here who speaks your language. You're the only one who speaks mine. You sure you want to lose that? Lose what we've been building up to."

He wasn't budging. He stood over her letting his intimidation fall through the cracks when she gripped the collar of his work coat. Rennick glanced over to the window of his office door. It was nightfall, already. He asked her, "Building up to what?"

Josie stepped forward, still greedily holding onto his red work coat. Her breath heated off his chin. Perhaps he should have slapped her hand away. Continued to curse and berate until she left his office and his rig. Perhaps it would have been for the wiser. Rennick's hand followed up her's, breaking it from his coat and entwining in his fingers. She whispered, "You know what."

The angered stress lines on their faces faded away suddenly. For the first time, Josie had succeeded in intimidating him. Thus, another first. He admitted she was right. Not with words. He pulled her into himself urgently. Their lips met and a secret was created. A scandalous one. Tensions for eight months finally unearthed in Rennick's office. Both gripped into the same fever. Finally relenting their shared stubbornness. Right over his desk.