The place was huge. Nothing like the library of Battle School. This place was larger even than the Juneau public library. Real books, not the little electronic chips stored in a few small boxes like they had been on the transport that had brought them here, were tucked into shelves along every wall. The place was multi-leveled, with different areas branching away from this central area.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Such an innocent question. He'd been asking himself the same thing since he'd arrived here, it seemed. No, that wasn't true. It hadn't really gotten out of hand until after he'd dealt with Wick. He wasn't remorseful, but his mind produced another image of her burnt, broken form and he hissed in quietly as his stomach clenched.

But the girl was still waiting above him, and he pushed it all down again. It got harder each time, but he had no way to deal with it. Not yet. Later.

He put his head back against the wall of the crawlspace and touched the tips of her wriggling fingertips with his own, a featherlight touch that made him sigh quietly before letting his hands drop.

What was she doing here? Nothing but thinking. Thinking about Dominic and their new-found... relationship... if it could be called that. Wondering and a little irritated with Nicolai; after all, he'd started it, and the enormously amusing outcome of her prank overrode most of her guilt. She hated to think about what he might say to Dante after this, and cringed internally, making herself swear that she'd go see Dante later, maybe offer her a bunk for the night, all to escape from Nicolai's anger.

Sheesh, and all this trouble just because of a hilarious little prank.

What was he thinking about?

Blood, Wick's blood on his hands, on his lips when he kissed her before he dropped the match, the taste of her blood in his mouth as he backed away when the flame caught, the taste that he hadn't been able to wash from his mouth, not even when he'd stumbled into the bathrooms afterward and been sick for nearly an hour.

He yanked his hand away from hers. He didn't know who he was talking to, but she didn't deserve to endure his touch.

"Y'know what?" She spoke with all the confidence and conviction of someone who knew exactly what he was talking about, the reasoning of thieves, of pranksters like herself. Rox had a very simple theory for life. Do what you want, and everything works out. She ran by emotions, instincts; not rationalizations and worries. That's why everything was a game, and everything was fun. "Doncha worry. You don't feel guilty, so eh? Why think 'bout it so much?"

Mode controlled a shiver, withdrawing a little further into the dark. Until now, his memory had seemed full of holes, and that had made him uneasy, but now, as her question made him reflect, they were filling with terrifying speed, filling and he made a tiny hissing sound as he struck the steel wall behind him with the side of his closed fist. The steel was far too thick to vibrate or echo, and there was only a quiet thud of impact.

Dante filled his mind's eye, Dante sleeping on her bunk as he approached her, Dante shoving him away, then embracing him as they knelt on the floor, kissing him...and then Dante struggling madly as he ran his hands over her body, her hands turning dark as she pulled with all her might trying to escape him while he taunted her.

Then Dante was gone, and it was Kat instead, Kat screaming in horrified disbelief as he abused her body with his own -

- No, please God no, not...not Kat... -
Oh, yes. Such a sweet one, that Katera. More than a little trouble, but she has her uses.
- No. I didn't, I couldn't have, I love her, you bastard! -
And so did I...every last inch of her.

Darkness closed in and his mind cut out, eyes dropping to slate as he drew in air deeply and silently to still his heart.

"See, sweetheart?" Rox ran her fingers along his face, and managed to give him a light playful pat on the cheek. "If it was fun, then who cares? Gotta play the game and just have a good time, neh?" She tilted her head, shifting again in an attempt to see him, now that he had moved closer into her field of vision. But all she caught was a tiny glimpse of his hand before he withdrew, and she huffed, pouting to herself. This one seemed like fun, and given her mood, she wanted to play.

She looked up to meet Gabe's grin and returned it, her smile too big to keep and she laughed as her eyes drank in the thousands and thousands of volumes this room contained. They'd never get through them all...but they could try.

This room was hard to leave, but they still hadn't finished their tour. They could come here to read books together. And besides, there were tables and chairs for students to study at, and couches, but no place they could play chess without taking up possible study space, and that was the Library's primary use, she was certain.

He considered her request. The Charybdis band might frighten her, but she seemed cocky enough that it was possible she'd look past it, and if she didn't...he could always catch her and convince her not to tattle on him. She was swinging her hand, trying to touch him again, and he tilted his head just enough to let her miss him. Any way this went, it would be entertaining.

Much of his momentum was up instead of out, and he caught the railing easily with his hands and flipped himself over it, twisting to land facing her, boots hitting the floor of the balcony in perfect synchronization, his knees bent the smallest bit to account for the impact before he straightened and studied his new playmate with a smirk and a tiny touch of irritation. One of Dante's friends, the pretty oriental girl he'd seen at her table.

Asmodeus. Dante's fallen Angel.

Her tiny intake of breath was reflex even as she stared at him in half-shock, chocolate eyes wide, her tactless autopilot kicking in. "Hey, I know you! You're that Mode boy..." her voice trailed off as she finally realized what she was saying, and more importantly, who she was saying it to. Internally she flinched, a little fearful as her mind ran through its files and started retrieving all she knew about this man. Nathan Terrence, admitted to the Charybdis Institute... her eyes flicked unconsciously toward the white band encircling his muscular arm. Trained in every unarmed combat course offered, accused but never charged with Wick's attack...

Rox had found herself a very dangerous playmate. Part of her was shouting for her to run, run away as fast as she could and find Dominic again, hide herself someplace safe away from this cold-blooded angel. But the other, less rational and more playful part of her was reasoning that he hadn't done anything to hurt her yet. She didn't like Wick anyway. And Dante always overreacted.

Besides, he was cute, and she hated to lose a potential toy.

Slender, but not as fragile as Dante. Hints of muscle, but nothing like Kat. He drew his gaze from her boots slowly up to her almond eyes, pausing to savor the clean lines of her throat, the fullness of her lips. Attractive, definitely...but he wasn't interested in acquiring another difficult bedmate. Kat was quite enough to occupy that segment of his time, and this one might not take it as well as she had. That could lead to other complications, and he didn't really have an interest in exploring them.

At least she had some spirit, and a sense of humor. Dante never laughed. What a depressing bitch Angel had fallen for.

"Hey, I know you! You're that Mode boy..." her voice wilted and died, and he raised an eyebrow, his little smirk still in place. She flicked her gaze unconsciously towards the exit, but her eyes came back to him and travelled over him the same way his had over her, and her grin slowly found its footing and resurfaced as she took a step back. He let her. The difference of a single pace didn't matter. If she bolted, he could still catch her.

Settle into the game, baby, and learn how to play...

Rox snorted lightly and rolled her eyes. "Like you wouldn't believe," she intoned playfully, the biting edge to her voice almost indistinguishable but undeniably present. He might think he could intimidate her, and it was working just a tiny bit, but nothing spurned her more than a challenge. She liked to play with fire, and this was as close to hellflames as she could possibly get. How very exciting.

He caught her arm and tugged her against him, firmly but not roughly, one arm going around her waist while the other tilted her chin up towards his face. He didn't lean in to kiss her, just held her, his gaze locked with hers. "You might be surprised at what I'd believe," he said, his voice playfully gentle and entirely out of keeping with the cold slate in his eyes.

Oh, what she wouldn't love to tell him. His body was hard, muscular against hers, and she was reminded of her boy Dominic. She knew what he was planning, of the plot to... dispose... of this Mode, and it lent a delicious little thrill of anticipation to her demeanor. But a tiny knot of guilt struck her too, quickly reasoned away as she remembered what this boy had done and what he could do, given the chance. Better to get her playtime in now, before such a delightful toy was taken away.

Her giggle was anything but innocent as she ran her hand along his shoulders, down his strong muscles to the back of his thigh, and she didn't miss his slight tensing as her fingertips touched him. Two could play at his game, and as Rox suspected from his amateur flash of surprise, she was the veteran in this respect. Besides, he was just a boy, really, at least a year younger. Nothing compared to what she had done or was capable of doing.

No, this wasn't right. He wanted control. He'd had enough of females leading him around, enough by miles. She was pretending interest, her coy expression far too well-practiced for him to penetrate to read her true emotion. He'd have to bring it forth.

No one played hard ball quite like Roxy. There was a reason she won every time, a reason why Mode's breath caught in his throat as she fought to kiss him harder, fingers moving nimbly across his skin. The reason was that was that she was willing to use any means necessary to secure her victory.

Because hell, if you can't walk the walk, why bother talkin' the talk?

Dante had always been trembling, hesitant, even before their...falling out. Kat was the other extreme, either on the attack or struggling to get away. Roxy's expert attention made him catch his breath as he felt her slender fingers tug down the zipper on his uniform jacket, her little hand sneaking below the cloth like a thief to caress the skin of his chest.

He was heated and almost shivering when he finally broke the kiss, and he pulled back to meet her smile, soft brown eyes dancing with victory at his obvious state of arousal. "I'm not patient either," she said with a little giggle.

Looking down into her face, torn between the after-effects of her kiss and anger at her for mocking him, he managed a slightly angry smirk as he lifted her easily, holding her body against his with one arm as he leaned back against the rail. Her sudden intake of breath was incredibly satisfying, and his smirk grew a little wider.

"Don't move," he said shortly as he moved them to the outside of the rail. She was holding onto him tightly now, entirely still.

He grabbed the rail with his free hand and stepped off, swung them into the darkened space he'd occupied when she first came upon him, and she let out a little gasp of shock at the short fall.

She slipped from her uniform jacket as she finished removing his, pushing him over despite his resistance until he was reclined in the dark enclosed space. His slate eyes were fastened on hers as she smiled and kissed him lightly, following the line of his neck, down his chest and along his stomach before pausing above his belt. He was still watching as she tugged on the leather strap, practiced movements quickly divesting him of his pants and her own before she paused and sat back on her heels, running her hands up his legs until those cold eyes widened, and she smirked.

She allowed him to finish undressing her, enjoying his attention unabashedly as he kissed her, but reigned herself in before he went any further. Rox wanted to be the one in control, and teach this boy that when one challenged her, they lost quickly. But damn. At least he'd have some fun losing to her.

It was her turn to roll him over now, tugging his boxers from him. A knowing smirk before she lowered her head to kiss his lower abdomen, his startled gasp making her smile despite herself as she ran her lips and tongue over him, and soon his ragged breathing told her that she'd meet no further resistance. He tried to reach for her, but she held his wrists at his sides with her own small hands, and before he could react Rox slid hard against his hips and giggled as he instinctively tensed and drew in a sharp intake of air.

Poor little Mode had never met the likes of Rox...

His time with Kat had done nothing to prepare him for his ill-considered attack on Rox.

Unlike his momentary fear of losing control before, it was now a constant struggle, and as much as he wanted to deny it, he was slowly being defeated. Her languid movement above him was driving him crazy, but he was unwilling to break her hold on his wrists, afraid she might stop. She seemed to know exactly how to move to strain his frayed reserve the most, and each slow, lazy movement brought a small sigh from his lips. His eyes closed halfway as he took in the sight of her lightly tanned body in consort with his own light-skinned form, moving with her the tiny amount that she allowed.

And then the bitch started humming.

She was toying with him, but he couldn't bring himself to strike at her, not with the waves of sensation so close to overwhelming. Her pace increased only incrementally, and at last he lost his patience and broke away from her hands as he flipped them, pressing hard enough against her to take her breath. He took the motions she'd taught him and did his best to pleasure her, and her tiny sighs as her face became flushed beneath his were proof enough, but it didn't come without a price. Roxy was too good at her game, and her quivering muscles were pulling him towards the edge too fast for him to stop.

But there was Donovan. And Dominic... her eyes narrowed almost imperceptably at that thought. Oh well. It wasn't as if he didn't play her game too, and although love was one thing, fidelity was another. She shrugged off the thought and returned her attention to Mode again, wondering at his own little girl, that redhead Kat.

Probably not even an issue.

She was reluctant to let him go, and leaned over to kiss him, moving again until his renewed gasp made her grin. It was faster this time, and she didn't give him any time to speak or think or resist, just took him with practiced skill and undeniable enjoyment.

That confusion turned darker, and he laid a hand on her arm, not ungently...yet.

The last of his stupor fell away and he pulled her to him, slipping her arm behind her back and holding her hand with his own as he kissed her deeply. He pulled back then, running his tongue over the bottom of his upper lip before he regarded her with a dangerous smirk, the anger in his eyes becoming more pronounced.

Rox ignored his anger completely, not bothering to analyze it or even really consider it. It wasn't as if she'd understand it anyway; she'd wanted him, had taken him, and that was that. Clear cut and to the point. And there was no way he could deny that he'd enjoyed it just as much as she had, if not more. So why were his eyes blazing with that frightful menace right now?

"Nah, baby. Only if you run with me. C'mon, get dressed 'fore I hafta jump you again for bein' too damn handsome..." she let her eyes run playfully over his form, smiling broadly but with her own edge of authority. She didn't like how he had her arm trapped behind her, and helplessness was not a sensation she liked or tolerated. The little boy had no idea. Green little hakujin hiretsukane...

Nothing he did to her would make it mean anything to her, and making her frightened of him didn't give him the thrill it should have. For a few moments, the darkness had been gone, dispelled as it was sometimes when Kat held him close in her rare moments of tenderness, and he'd been nothing but himself. The realization of how little chance there was for this to become anything else made him feel cold inside. This was probably how the crazy bitch said hello.

Kat's lovely face shimmered in his mind, and he was unable to rid himself of it as he finished lacing and tying his boots. Anger at himself for falling into Roxy's net so easily, anger at Rox for caring so little when she'd affected him so deeply, anger at Kat for meaning enough to him to make him hate himself so much for doing something that meant so little to the girl that stood in front of him as he turned around, all combined to fashion the cold blank stare he gave her now.

Damnit. Now she was stuck, and there was no way she could vault to the balcony railing like Mode had. She sure as hell couldn't climb down either; Rox wasn't too particularly fond of heights, and one peek from her dusty prison was enough to dissuade her from even thinking about descending the bookcase. Angry and extremely irritated, she huffed and cursed to herself in wildly fluid Japanese, lacing up her other boot and then kicking the wall with frustration.

Stuck stuck stuck, and no way to get down. She peered from her perch again, looking for any way out, and sighed as she noticed a familiar figure walking nearby. One of the twins; from above, she couldn't tell which one, but it hardly mattered. She could get out, play it up, and although she doubted that Dominic would believe any lie she concocted for him, it would have to do.

He had left Dante to find his brother, but his brother hadn't appeared. He'd checked the Mess, and then the Game Arena. He didn't like the looks he was getting in there, as if everyone knew something he didn't, and his mood deteriorated even farther as he continued his search.

Their barracks room was empty, and Roxy's room was too, but he could tell they'd been here recently. He lightened somewhat. At least that was something. Review was beginning to loom close, and they'd have to withdraw somewhat to get into practice, so it was good that Dominic got it out of his system now...and he wanted his twin happy. If Roxy did it for him, then that's what mattered.

But he still wasn't here, and so Don continued looking.

By the time he got to the Library, he'd almost given up hope, and he was about to turn around and just go back to the barracks and wait when a high, plaintive voice reached his ears. "Dommy?" Roxy. He looked around and behind him before he looked up and saw a small face with large chocolate eyes staring at him from over the edge of one of the huge bookcases.

"...Roxy? You ok? Come on, dearest, let's go, eh?" His grin faded into a reassuring smile as he saw how nervous she really was, and he held her arms tightly and drew her up over the railing like a doll until she stood next to him on the balcony and cradled her against him for a moment. Her heart was beating rapidly, and he stroked her hair.

No it wasn't. She knew what she was doing. Right?

"Played with the wrong person, Donovan..." she mumbled, voice muffled as she pressed her face against his broad chest, a sudden flash of uncertain guilt striking her. Wait... guilt? This was getting out of her element. "I dinnit know whatta do and he scared me." God. Her shoulders tensed but she didn't say any more, knowing what his next question would be.

He couldn't tell if she was lying or not. She was upset, that much was obvious. She'd been trapped in the space below the bookcase, so she'd had company. She would never have made it down there on her own...and considering her fear of heights, probably wouldn't have gone down there voluntarily. Stupid girl. She knew what Mode was capable of. She'd seen his file. What the fuck had she been thinking?!

The half-sick, scared expression on her face killed his anger with her before it became established, and instead he devoted full attention to his rage against Mode.

It took him a moment to get his jaw to unclench enough to ask his next question.

Rox managed an uncertain blush, her pale tan cheeks flushing as she averted her eyes from his. He was starting to irritate her, just a tiny bit... after all, wasn't she just fine? She would have found some way down from her perch, even if he hadn't come along. There were always boy wandering around the library, and more than happy to oblige. Trying to reason all this away still did nothing to erase her slight tint of shame, and she let her voice waver a little when she finally spoke.

He'd met Roxy by accident. One of their targets had asked to see him, and he'd gone to the Griffin Quad with the happy expectation of victory, about to knock on her Cell door when the sounds of a scuffle from across the way had caught his attention. After he'd dealt with her overeager date, he'd expected to find her reticent to touch him, but she'd launched into his arms and cried on him immediately. The fear and relief in her eyes had been too sharp to be false, and her friend had only been gone perhaps twenty minutes before she'd shown him just how grateful she was.

None of that fear was in her features now - or at least, not much, just a sort of guilty relief. It was the guilt that was making him angry. Some elements of her story rang true; she'd been trapped under the balcony, and from what he knew of Terrence, it was quite likely he'd been there before. His agility was documented.

But Roxy never just talked. She was right. She'd played with the wrong boy. It was a wonder Terrence hadn't injured her, that he'd been satisfied with leaving her stranded after their playtime was concluded. He wasn't exactly sure why he was angry at Rox. She'd helped them plot targets, and they'd helped her, and it was all just a game, and if it wasn't to him anymore, that didn't mean that Dominic and Roxy couldn't continue to play as they liked...but his understanding of Dominic's impression of his new relationship with Rox hadn't included this, and as he saw the shamed blush rise in her cheeks, he was pretty certain it hadn't been in hers either.

Old habits were hard to break.

Rox felt another flash of guilt, but it was quickly overcome by irritation. Why was Donovan angry at her for? It was none of his business what she did, none of his business what her relationship was with his brother. But the sudden feeling that perhaps she'd violated whatever tentative understanding that she and Dominic had managed to come to made her angry; angry at Dominic for disturbing the game she'd perfected, but more so, angry at herself for perhaps ruining what fragile connection they'd made.

But hell, it's not as if he's never done this to you before... She cringed to herself, remembering. Her birthday last year, and Dominic had shown up in the middle of the night to take her to their place in the command room, just a night to themselves. That's when she'd realized just how attached she'd grown to him; until the next morning when she woke to find him gone. A thorough search discovered him in someone else's room... Bianca's room. Slutty bitch.

"Heya bro, something wrong?" Donovan turned to give him the oddest look he'd ever seen, and Dom frowned to himself, a little curious and a little perturbed. "You okay? What's going on?"

Nicolai mentally berated himself when he finally stepped into the silent library, booted footsteps muffled on the carpeted floor as he entered warily. The vast maze of rooms was pitch-black and completely quiet, but he'd been at the school long enough to know his way around, even in the dark. And he'd had his share of midnight rendevous in this library, as had probably half the older population of students.

But this was different. He and Roxy had known eachother for a few years now, leading back into their final days in Battle School. They'd always fought; he losing his temper, she pulling incredibly embarassing pranks that never failed to punch a hole in his pride. Yet, it never stopped them from being companions. They always made up, eventually. However... their argument a few days ago had held a little more bitter truth than usual, and her retribution had been unusually vicious. She'd hit him where it hurt the most, and the giggles and veiled amused glances he'd received over the past few days had only spurned his anger.

And on top of that, there was his dispute with Dante, still unresolved. She hadn't even returned to the barracks when he'd been there, either Bali or Fin taking her clothes and desk to Rox's cell. She'd spent the night there, too, and her extreme avoidance hurt more than he wanted to admit. Yet another reason that although he wanted to believe that Rox's little apologetic, and rather suggestive, note was honest... he just wasn't quite sure.

She stepped out before him from the alcove where he'd come to seek solitude. She knew it was his favorite place in the school, and as she came into view, he could see her leaning casually against a bookcase, jacket unzipped halfway. Nicolai smiled unwillingly to himself, bright blue eyes sparkling. Rox wanted to be forgiven, all right.

"Heya, Nico baby..." her voice was silky smooth as he approached, and when he was close enough, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to whisper in his ear. "Missed ya, sweetheart. I'm sorry..."

He grinned broadly, running his hands over her back. "Missed you too, Roxdoll... so what's this? Why you callin' me here in the middle of the night, eh?" Nicolai feigned naivety as she giggled and unzipped his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and then yanking his undershirt over his head before he could resist. Not that he wanted to resist, not when she kissed him lightly and fingered his belt. "Close your eyes and hold out both your hands, Nico... I gotta surprise for you. A supah surprise, so don't ruin it, eh? I promise it's extra special, just for you, lover..."

As soon as he hit the floor Rabin was kneeling with one knee on his chest. His left hand caught Nicolai's fists as he tried to swing them together at Rabin, and forced them aside.

Nicolai scowled and struggled under Rabin for a moment before deciding against it. There was no love lost between them, and he wasn't about to push the knife-weilding man any further than needs be. That didn't stop him, however, from being incredibly vocal about his anger. "Goddamn little hapa slut, I shoulda known not to trust you, little bitch, I'll show you that--"

His words were interrupted as Rox shoved his undershirt into his open mouth, gagging him, and he coughed against the material, eyes narrowing and unable to speak. "Shhh, sweetheart. Shhhh..." She began to hum as she moved behind Rabin, nimble fingers unbuckling Nicolai's belt and pulling his trousers off as she tickled the bottom of his feet and withdrew her second pair of cuffs. Singing softly to herself, she restrained his ankles together and grinned, pinching the inside of his thigh as he made a grunt of surprise and rage.

"Okee, pahtnah, looks like we're almost all set... hold onto his wrists above his head for me, neh?" Rabin moved to kneel beside Nicolai's head, hands holding their captive's wrists tightly, and Rox sat squarely on Nicolai's stomach, holding up a pen that she plucked from her front pocket. With a giggle she began to draw little hearts on his bare chest, writing in large letters and signing her name with a flourish just below his navel. Rabin's eyes widened and he grinned broadly at her as she tilted her head and gave him an innocent smile, and then she recapped the pen and stood, motioning toward the doorway. "Let's get him outta here. Time to deliver Nico... I think he'll make a nice wake-up present, doncha, Rabin darlin'?"

Seth fell slightly behind Bianca as she came to another set of doors. They were one of many they had passed that she had mumbled something about but she stopped in front of these. The door slid open and Seth followed her into the room. The Library. More books than Seth had seen in a while lined the walls. They passed several couches that looked rather comfortable for reading when Seth plopped down into an unoccupied one. Bianca turned when she heard him hit the couch and joined him.

They hadn't actually tried to use it to spy on nathan yet, they needed to know how far away they could control it and get info fed back to them. The last thing that they wanted would be for nathan to see it if something happened and they couldn't be in control of it or anything... or at least that's what she though. She was never all to sure on how the range thing worked. She left all of the mechanical and technical stuff to Cas, he left the flying to her.

Castor's face changed as he continued to watch them, turning darker, meaner, and he stood, obscuring Helen almost entirely from his view, and he glared at Mode, and the depth of furious fearful hatred in those eyes made him want to cringe, but he just stared coldly back. This boy didn't know him. They'd been in an army together. He could remember helping this boy out in battle before, could remember them trading combative favors in Hawk.

He felt cheated. He hadn't done anything to him to deserve that look...but he'd done something to Dante, and apparently Cassius Martin had taken that to heart. It was more than apparent in the narrowed eyes and tight lips that Cas had no interest in anything he had to say in his defense.

Helen peeked out from behind him, and Nathan felt ashamed.

Was this all he was?

Those eyes... they must have been wrong about it being Nathan in the engineering bay. The eyes looked different. Almost gentle.

They had to be wrong about one of them. Was it possible that there were two kids in the station that looked that alike? Maybe...

She slowly got up and peeked out from behind Cas, standing defensively in front of her. If Nathan was one of those two then he'd be the one standing in front of them now. The one that they called Angel back at battle school. ..the one that had hurt Dante... Helen looked at him.. those eyes.. how could someone with as gentle eyes as those hurt anyone? She watched him turn away and leave and she backed up away from Cas, noticing how the muscles in his back had become tense. He was ready in case Nathan tried to do anything. He was ready to throw himself into danger to protect her. She wasn't sure if she should hug him in relief and give him a kiss on the cheek for being so protective or yell at him for thinking that she'd let him put himself into danger while she just stood back and watched.

She turned away from him and ran up the stairs to get the spyder. If Nathan had gotten much closer he might have seen what was on the screen and know what they were doing. That couldn't happen. She picked up the spyder. They'd gotten probably enough information anyway, and besides, it was almost time for classes. They could probably run to the mess for some breakfast quick, but not much else.

She paused at the top of the stairs glancing at Cas, who was closing down the programs on the desk. Why couldn't she tell him about the funny feeling that she got whenever she was around him, the feeling that hse still didn't know what it mean but didn't mind having. Why couldn't she tell him that if anything happened or if he was in any kind of danger she'd want to be standing right next to him instead of being safely away. Why couldn't she tell him how much she missed him and how much she worried about him when he spent all that time in the workshop, while she studied in her cell or rather tried while worrying if Nathan would do something. Why couldn't she tell him how she felt?

He didn't know what it was, but ever since he'd known her, she'd had spells of thinking about or dreaming about it. She never told him what it was, but he could tell when that was what was bothering her, and that she didn't want to talk about it at all.

This time, that wasn't it, so he felt safe enough asking her about it. He touched her forearm with the tips of his fingers to stop her and then dropped his hand when she turned back to face him.