Chapter 27: Inti-mate Details

Fox could hear the indistinct murmur of conversation as he entered the infirmary, the vulpine stopping just in the mouth of the doorway with the barest traces of a smile forming on his lips as he watched the members of his team in unobserved silence. While the last mission went off to join the ever growing list of increasingly stressful assignments, he was heartened to see that his crew remained unwavering in their commitment to each other.

Though Krystal was still confined to a bed in the Great Fox’s sickbay, several days after the events on Fichina, this had not stopped Six from keeping true to his ever vigilant nature, turning the infirmary into his provisional living quarters. Unnecessary as it may have seemed to anyone other than the spartan, or people who did not know him, Six had taken up his duty as unwavering sentinel with utter dedication. Two days, and Fox had yet to see the spartan take a moment to rest.

Whenever she was not awake and speaking with him, the spartan kept himself occupied with his weapons, having created a makeshift workbench out of a medical trolley and a chair he pulled next to her bed. Sometimes, when Fox checked the infirmary’s cameras from the bridge he was able to catch Six endlessly pacing the length of the ward while Krystal slept, his agitation transparent even from the video feed. The spartan was quite successful at keeping his considerations private, yet it was clear to Fox in those cloistered moments that he remained disturbed over the most recent events to transpire.

On a lighter note, the vixen had another frequent guest to keep her company in the form of Miyu. The lynx made it a habit to spend at least a few hours a day keeping her occupied. When questioned by Fox, the feline claimed rather defensively that she “made for better company.”

But that was just a smoke screen, and a pretty poor one at that. Fox knew that Miyu was just worried about her friend. Despite their shared rivalry over the spartan, it was plain to the vulpine that they still deeply cared about each other.

This was even more apparent as he watched from the distance of the infirmary’s door.

“You know that book’s ending was utter trash.” Miyu forewarned her cobalt furred companion from the hospital bed adjacent. Though uninjured, she adamantly made us of the comfort it provided.

In response, the vixen lowered Fortuna Desires to aim a particularly pointed glare in the feline’s direction, emerald irises brimming with disapproval past the lenses of her reading glasses. “I’ve been trying to finish this novel for months, and I only have a few chapters left. If you ruin this for me I will tear out your spine.”

“…..Okay message received. No spoilers.” Miyu studiously busied herself with an app game on her comms device.

“I tend to agree with Miyu’s assessment of the manuscript.” Six interjected offhandedly from his position beside the vixen’s bed, where the spartan was currently embroiled in a fierce match of chess with Peppy that they had started that very morning but had yet to end even as the afternoon passed by.

“Wait you do?” The feline paused for a moment, her brain taking a few extra seconds to boot up and understand what the spartan had just confessed. “Wait….. you do?” Both Miyu and now a flabbergasted vixen turned their muzzles towards the spartan as he maneuvered a piece on the board.

Even from his outside position, Fox was taken aback.

“Check.”

“But not checkmate, the game isn’t over yet.” The wizened hare cautioned with a rather mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“No battle is ever over until the last enemy falls.” Six’s answering rebuttal was delivered with the human supersoldier’s usual courteous yet confident tone.

“Whoa there, time out. Don’t just go back to your game, not without answering some questions that I think need to be addressed.” Miyu shifted to an upright position on the hospital bed to give this recent development her full attention.

“Six…” Krystal watched the spartan curiously. “You read my book?”

Placing down his next porcelain figure, he turned to give the vixen his full attention. “I had noticed that you have been reading that novel for some time, so I was curious. That being said, it was disappointing. The author had clearly never spent any meaningful length of time in the military, as was made clear by the incorrect terminology and utterly misinterpreted protocols. Not only that, but the descriptions of combat were preposterous, nothing more than one person’s deluded romanticization of warfare.”

“What about chapter 32?” That was what she was most curious about. That section was a predominantly… intimate scene for the newlywed couple.

Six quickly recalled the chapter in question with his eidetic memory.

“It was… unusual. You cornerians have a strange fascination with procreation. I had no idea there were so many different ways and preferences for breeding.” He studied the vixen inquisitively, while somehow managing to look innocent and unperturbed.

The furious blush marring the ruff of Krystal’s cheeks was neither, reflected on both Miyu and even Peppy to a lesser extent at the spartan’s rather blunt observation.

Fox could have stepped in to help them save face, but this was far too hilarious for him to even consider interfering with what was without a doubt the best entertainment he’d had in a long time.

“Yes… well… that’s because… well it…” Krystal stuttered weakly, her reply coming off more as incoherent babbling then a statement. The vixen glanced to Miyu desperately, hoping for some assistance in this awkward conversation. But the feline proved to be just as clueless as to how to broach the issue.

“Checkmate.” Six suddenly announced, the spartan maneuvering his queen in front of Peppy’s trapped king, having eliminated the hare’s entire set before going in for the killing blow.

The room sighed collectively in relief as it seemed the spartan abandoned the topic.

But Fox knew his friend better than that. The human was far too perceptive to switch topics on a whim. Whatever it was he had in mind for that inquiry, he had gathered all the information he needed.

“Yes it does appear that you have bested me yet again.” The hare acknowledged his defeat with a respectful, and relieved, nod as he hurriedly gathered the pieces and began placing them inside the lacquered wooden container he had arrived with.

Sighing in disappointment that the show was over, Fox finally decided to make his presence known, foregoing his usual introduction in favor of merely stepping into sight.

As expected, Six was the first to react, though he already knew by now that the spartan had no doubt been aware of him before he even entered the room. The human acknowledged his presence with a respectful downwards tilt of his head, even as the others finally realized he was inside.

The vulpine underwent the usual greeting ritual with his crew. Bidding goodbye to Peppy as he departed the ward for his own room as Fox suspected, leaving himself, the spartan and two women.

In truth, he had come down here with the intention of conversing with Six privately in regards to the most recent development concerning what Katt had managed to steal from the Remnant, but decided to make more use of his time before heading back his room to finish compiling his report. They could talk about it later, when the spartan was once more comfortable with leaving Krystal to her own devices.

Katt was resting in her room, and had been since Six brought her onboard. Other than a minor diagnosis of malnutrition by MAD - which could easily be attributed to a lack of food and would be easily corrected by a few good meals and some rest, she was otherwise alright. It was instances like this that Fox began to really believe the old myths about feline luck.

Fox had not been all that surprised to learn that she fainted, all things considered. From Miyu’s rather descriptive report, the spartan had distinctly acted out of character in the way he handled Krystal’s attacker. Not that he would blame him. Fox would have done the same if not worse, if their situation had been reversed and Fara had been the one to be harmed… No. He was just merely surprised to hear such a well composed individual suffer such an utter lack of control, or at least in comparison to his usual repertoire of stoic dispositions.

He would have talked with Six about it, but one look at the spartan’s forbidding expression once he removed his helmet was enough to convince him to let sleeping dogs lie. It was a matter he believed best left to the vixen to handle. Fox had experienced more than enough guilt to recognize the look, even in an alien’s face. He had a feeling that Krystal would know what to say, whereas Fox was certain he would just be putting his foot in his own mouth, what he considered to be one of his less marketable skills.

Though he was speaking with Miyu and Krystal, Fox studied Six closely, deciding that while he may not be directly confronting him, he could at least keep an eye on his friend. The vulpine took in the spartan’s silent posture, one he had maintained for the last few days. After bearing witness to the subtle, lengthy and drawn-out changes the spartan had undergone these past few months, it was easy for Fox to notice when these instances… regressed, for a lack of a better term.

Sure, Six was still relatively talkative and forthcoming in comparison to the machine-like warrior he had first hired on, but Fox could see that the spartan had lost some of that sense of self after Fichina.

He still remembered watching Six step of the shuttle’s ramp, insensate pink feline indifferently draped over a shoulder, armor splattered in frozen gore, and the powerful undercurrent of anger radiating off him in a nearly visible miasma of rage. It was a sight that rekindled a fear that Fox had not felt since that moment on the Venomian battlecruiser.

Something in his friend had changed… relapsed, and it was not for the better.

Even now the vulpine could see the distant look in the spartan’s eyes, and it was not hard to tell that he was reliving that one nightmarish moment even now, over and over again in a self-induced flagellation.

Such intimate knowledge might have brushed past every member of the team other than those currently in the room with him, those select few that had come close enough to the human to linger on the cusp of understanding what it was like to be him.

Fox could tell in that moment that their current, lighthearted conversation was forced, their cheerful banter merely providing a thinly veiled diversion to the true issue at hand, nothing but a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.

It was as clear as day, reflected by every eye in the room, every nervous tick of an idle paw, every lackadaisical chuckle.

The soldier was in pain.

Yet still they ignored it. There was no other choice.

A few comforting words and pat on the back wouldn’t work here, not with Six. He could not be comforted like any other person, he was… different… unique. There was a certain way, and certain people, that could reach him, even as far gone as he was. And the vulpine was not one of them.

Fox only had the heart to stay for a few more minutes before he had to leave, unable to bear the helpless feeling in his gut.

“Alright Six, I’ll see ya later.” He forced a casual smirk to the fore as he patted the spartan’s arm and headed towards the door. Waiving a paw in front of the scanner he looked back one last time at Krystal, seeing the repressed anguish in her eyes as she looked to the spartan sitting beside her, the human warrior utterly embroiled in his inner thoughts and the broken down weapon before him.

Miyu had long ago done away with the distraction on her wrist, merely watching on from the her seemingly relaxed position in the bed across, though the flittering tail hanging off the side of the cot betrayed her otherwise outwardly unconcerned demeanor.

“Hang in there Krys, and get well.”

The vixen merely nodded in reply, her paw resting on the spartan’s forearm the last sight Fox saw before he stepped out into the hall, for once grateful for the fact hours of work laid in front of him.

*****

Six had come to realize something after returning from the mission.

There were still a great deal many things he had yet to experience, for example a new sense and appreciation of guilt had manifested in a variety of shapes and forms, each uniquely powerful and crushing in their own respects.

The fall of Reach, the loss of Nobel, even the massacre on Cyrus IV, the day he had truly realized that he deserved the fate that awaited him, each of those moments leveraged remorse upon his shoulders as he wondered… Could he have done things differently?

The answer was that he wasn’t sure if there could have been any other way.

And if there had been… would he have taken it if there was even a slim chance he would have never come here? A part of him, a fairly large portion, found that he would do it all again, every dubious assassination, every illicit kill. He would do it all again without hesitation if it meant that he would have her.

Six had come to realize something after returning from the mission.

The spartan could never change what years of war had made him. And perhaps what troubled him the most….

He did not wish to change.

He was who he was because of war, the spartan program. He was able to be the soldier… the hero, Krystal needed him to be, because ONI had trained him to be their weapon. Fundamentally, at his core he might be broken, but that was a small price to pay if it meant he could protect her.

If he could protect them all.

Starfox was his team, his… family. He realized the truth at the very moment Krystal was shot. They were all he had and certainly more than anything he had ever had before, even Noble. His previous team had been the only people he had ever allowed himself to grow close to. Yet even then they were not as close as he found himself feeling towards the members of Starfox.

And he failed them, failed her.

He had not kept her safe, had not done what he had promised so long ago. What manner of man could he be if he could not keep his promise to the one he cared for more than anything else in existence?

He had no answer for that.

Six could see the truth, every time he looked in her eyes.

The disappointment, the distrust… it was as obvious as it was disheartening. She undoubtedly lost her faith in him after his most recent failure. No manner of distraction was enough to dull the ache in his heart at this undeniable certainty.

Six had come to realize something after returning from the mission.

He could never be the man she deserved. The day would come where her care and affection would fade, where she would find the one worthy of what she needed and leave him in the dark. And when that day arrives, he would well and truly die, in soul if not in body.

But till that day comes, he would continue to protect her, to uphold the mantle till one more suited could take his place.

It was after all, what he had been made for, what the spartan-III’s had been created to achieve. They were merely cannon fodder, soldiers designed to fight and die till their betters could take their place.

Such was a feeling he was used to… expendability.

*****

“Thank you, Six.”

Krystal expressed her gratitude to the spartan as he helped her into the wheeled chair beside her bed. The vixen also thanked the spirits that this would not be a permanent situation. The nerve damage to her lower spine was minor and easily treated, but would take time for it to fully heal, a few weeks at the most. Honestly, it was in actuality a rather negligible consequence for the type and severity of the wound she suffered.

MAD had informed her that if not for Six’s quick reaction and issuance of battlefield medicine, she might have lost the use of her legs forever. For that she would always be indebted to him, he had quite literally saved her life, or at the very least her independence.

And yet….

She swiveled her chair to study the spartan’s impassive expression as he stood beside her, arms clasped firmly behind his back in the strictest form of military posture.

Something inside him was hurting.

As she had feared, he had not come back from that mission intact. His body was undamaged, but that had nothing to say about his soul. Though it had been a few days she had yet to broach the subject of what happened down on Fichina, not knowing how to confront him on his changes.

“Can you take me to our room?” The vixen asked him with a softness of tone she hoped would offer some comfort to him.

The spartan responded with a professional, stoic nod of his head and stepped behind her, his hands wrapping firmly on the handles of her chair as he guided her out of the infirmary.

The vixen desperately wished to have Miyu with her at that moment, knowing the feline would assuredly have a means of at least getting him to speak. But for the moment he remained mute as he silently steered her down the empty halls of the ship. In moments like these she was fully able to appreciate the oddity of such a small crew operating a massive vessel like this.

Fox had spoken a few times of hiring on some help, and not necessarily combatants. Even a few extra hands to help keep the ship running and take some pressure of Slip and Peppy would be more than enough. Perhaps then Six might have some more free time to spend with her.

Krystal already wished with fiery desperation that the use of her legs could return to her faster so she could envelope Six in the most comforting embrace she could devise. But she was helpless to merely sit and wait, her mind running though her legs were unable, as she pondered on a way to help him.

It was clear that this newfound wave of apathy emanating from Six was starkly in response to the events on Fichina. She could feel within him the crushing guilt and sense of incompetence. If only he knew the truth of how she felt.

He had nothing to feel guilty about, in fact he had effectively saved her life. She would have told him this in an instant if she didn’t already know that it would not work as well as intended, merely coming of consolatory instead of uplifting.

No, he needed something else more straightforward, something that would quickly cast away all doubt as to how she felt about him.

Try as she might, no immediate solution came to mind as she was steered down the hallways by her dearest companion. The elevator ride up to the crew quarters was similarly bereft of useful musing. Instead there was a silence between them as they arrived at their room, and the vixen watched mutely as her spartan opened their door and rolled her inside.

“Do you need to rest?” So quiet he had been, Krystal was momentarily startled at the sound of Six’s voice, the spartan looking down upon her in patient wait for an answer, given all the appearance of a diligent butler supervising his charge.

“No, I’m fine. “I’ve been resting for the past few days, I think if anything I’d like to hit the shower.” Bedridden as she had been, the opportunity to wash out the unpleasant, unwashed scent in her fur had been unavailable until now. It was a wonder that Six had yet to say anything about the odor, though she was confident that had more to do with his respect for her than anything else.

Yet the vixen frowned in her deeper considerations. Such a simple feat as even washing herself would be difficult given her current disability. She doubted she’d be able to accomplish such a task on her own, at least as inexperienced as she currently was.

She would have asked Miyu to help her, but the indignity of such a situation would render that as her absolute last option. However, there was one other person she could rely on, someone she would not at all be opposed with.

Krystal focused on the spartan. “Six... could you… help me?”

“What do you need?” The human inquired, utterly oblivious.

The vixen’s cheeks burned hotly and she could hear her own heart beat a rapid staccato in her chest at the propensity of what she asked for. “What I mean to say is… could you help me... bathe?” Krystal wished that she had something that could hide the uncertainty and embarrassment on her muzzle.

She watched nervously as the spartan remained mute and stationary for several tense minutes, completely unreadable past that damnable helmet. This soon turned her embarrassment into indignation.

Curse him! Didn’t he know how awkward it made her feel to ask him so boldly? Did he understand how much courage she had to summon forth just to consider entreating this of him? And to just sit there like a brick, not responding to such a difficult request… Krystal was about ready to scream.

Yet every sliver of her irritation vanished entirely the moment he shifted into motion. Like the lumbering gears of a great machine, she watched the spartan’s gauntlets slowly eek their way upwards to rest upon the all-encompassing slab of alien alloy that covered his visage. Armored hands driven by deliberate intent disconnected the seals of the azure helm and ever so gradually lifted it away to rest upon the desk behind the human with the muted thump of steel upon steel.

Crimson irises speckled with dull sapphire observed the vixen beneath them with hypnotic force, their stoicism echoed within the expression they were attached to as Krystal froze under the concentrated scrutiny of the one she cherished so dearly.

Then the gauntlets moved once more, latching firmly upon the imposing bulwark of steel that had been fashioned into the spartan’s breastplate.

Then it finally dawned on her as she realized the spartan was shedding his armor. To anyone else, his actions would have been misconstrued as strange or bewildering, but Krystal only smiled softly as she understood the meaning behind his efforts, a faint tingle of unknown emotion sparking within her as she watched the process with rapt attention… which was all she could really do currently confined to a wheelchair as she was.

This was his way of saying yes.

*****

In this iteration, it only took the spartan a mere half hour to remove the trappings of his armor and stash it away in the corner of the room. After having been long separated from the UNSC he had grown used to completing the process on his own. What was once a commonplace procedure was now… cathartic. By way of detaching his firmaments of war, so too did he remove himself from the mentality of it.

As he looked down upon the vixen that inspired his utter devotion and all that she now asked of him, Six realized one last truth from the events preceding their last mission.

He loved her, without exception or reservation.

And he would take that to his grave.

But until such a day comes where he would offer his life to the altar of war, he would live in this moment and ones like it. The quite between conflicts, the time cherished with friends and lover, this is where he would allow himself to be more than what his masters had made him. ONI had sought to kill within him that which made him human, his capabilities for compassion, kindness… love. Six had once thought he all but lost such sentiments, that they had succeeded in stripping the spartan of all that separated him from men and monsters.

And perhaps they had, but Krystal had returned these to him, had shown Six that no matter what those in his past had done to him, they could never take that away from him.

He may not have been, and probably never would be, the one she deserved, but Six would not let that keep him from being what she needed him to be, and if that path lay as her hero, lover, or perhaps even both, it would be one the spartan would gladly tread upon.

Although in the moment he was leaning towards one more than the other. Unlike guilt, this sensation was one he had yet to fully feel or recognize. He was tense, nervous, his thoughts so scattered he found it difficult to piece them together or focus on the present. His movement was erratic, disjointed… deprived of the usual meticulousness that had become second nature to him.

It was Krystal that forced him to experience these uninvited symptoms, or rather… the look in her eyes. Six had catalogued a wide variety of emotions that her unnaturally expressive verdant stare could emulate. This iteration, while similar to the one she shared with him in their more private moments, was somewhat unalike.

There was… something, she wanted from him this time.

That was not to say he was entirely oblivious. Naivety was one such thing he had quickly lost in his days working for the office. He had just never thought anyone would ever remotely feel like that towards a man like him. The spartan was honestly surprised that she desired him in such a way, one that transcended their current position with one another.

Though he felt uncertainty in these preceding moments as he lifted the silent vixen in his arms and carried the provisionally immobilized woman towards their lavatory, he decided, for more her benefit then his own, to see this through to the end.

Not long ago he promised her he would not back down from any challenge, and he had no wish to do so now, even with what would without reservation be the most testing.

Six stepped inside the restroom and set the vixen down upon the counter as he glanced about the area. Like most accommodations aboard the Great Fox, the bathroom was exceptionally lavish in comparison to the kinds he was used to seeing amongst the UNSC fleet. Where he had been lucky to find a shower with a five-by-five perimeter in the wash rooms he was used to, the facilities on this vessel easily afforded him nearly three times that number, and to an enhanced individual like himself, that was one of the very few needless amenities that he enjoyed. It was as if it had been designed with more than one occupant in mind, which was probably correct in all likelihood. These cornerians were after all quite strange creatures.

With his examination concluded he turned back to Krystal, neither yet speaking a word. Six supposed it would be natural and expected of either one of them to say something to break the tension so obviously layering the air, perhaps inject some levity into their immediate surroundings to ease them into it.

Unsurprisingly neither had yet to attempt such a thing. This current situation was entirely beyond him and so he had been hoping that she would be able to take the lead.

She did not.

Instead the vixen seemed content to match his gaze with a nervous smile, the ruff on her cheeks warm and bright pink in the deafening silence, something the spartan considered to be a biological impossibility. But he had come to realize that logic did not seem to hold sway over these aliens.

Yet all the same he felt the maudlin musings of the past few days fading away under that endearing, awkward grin, as if they had never existed at all. This was not a surprising phenomenon to Six. Krystal had always been able to banish his darker side. That was in fact one of the reasons he cared so much for as he did.

Despite himself the spartan felt the onset of a matching expression begin to pull on his own stern countenance, shattering any solemn pretense he might have been trying to maintain. She was just so… adorable. Though if anyone were to ever hear him say such a thing or insinuate in any measure that he felt such sentiment, they would be skinned alive and hung on a tree by their Achilles tendon, which was not entirely out of his realm of abilities. That tactic had worked quite well during his dealings with the insurrection.

Realizing his sense of stoicism had been firmly shattered by the vixen’s seemingly inherent charm, the spartan chuckled, a light and warm sound he had never once before released in the life he once had lived, just one other gift from her he was thankful for.

“I believe that words might be necessary at this point.”

In response Krystal giggled, a sound that would never, not fill the human warrior’s heart with soothing warmth.

“Yes I suppose you might be right.” She agreed with a whimsical flick of her tail.

“I have… never done something like this before.” Six confessed uneasily, finding it difficult to match her intrusive, yet playful stare.

“Well then that makes two of us. Neither have I.” She replied, a somewhat capricious glint in her eyes.

Six had to abstain from a scoff but settled instead with a roll of his eyes as he turned away from her to fiddle with the shower’s seemingly unnecessarily complicated knobs. Why they needed so many buttons and levers for what should be a simple machine baffled him utterly. There were more devices on this thing than in the cockpit of his sabre.

Eventually, he was able to change the now streaming cascade of water to a more agreeable temperature. As he turned back to her, his eyes widened for a brief moment before settling unwaveringly upon her narrow muzzle and nowhere else lower.

It seemed as if she had acted preemptively.

“A little help… please.” Unlike her previous confidence, the tone she now used to address him was timid... self-conscious.

In his awkwardness, Six realized what she was asking and approached her with an apprehension he had never before felt in all his life. His heart resounded from within his chest like the thunderous staccato of rifle fire and the muscles in his abdomen were tightly bound like coiled serpents. Yet still he had the force of will to mask his unease as he lowered his hands to her waist, making certain that he kept his gaze locked firmly on her emerald irises and nowhere else.

This was different from the situation with Miyu, such had been a strictly necessary application of battlefield first-aid and had extended no farther than that. Furthermore, back then it had been easy to remain objective, disassociated. Now, with his newfound knowledge and experience, it was not so relaxed. 

The low rattle of an unclasped buckle filled the dead air, piercing in its solitary nature as he helped the vixen out of her pants. The soft patter of denim sliding to the floor was nearly as deafening as a mortar shell in the confines of the bathroom, leaving Six as the only one of the pair that still clung to decency.

There was an awkward pause as her last article of clothing joined the pile by her feet, the spartan still making sure to keep his eyes trained on hers, unwilling to look anywhere else. He was troubled by what he might feel if he did otherwise, what such a sight might trigger inside him.

If he was to be honest with himself, he had been feeling urges most unusual as of late. The process itself had been slow, near undetectable at first, originating from the first moment he had realized just what it felt like to have a woman that cared for him, and what she might expect from him.

He had come to first understand this in full the moment he realized he enjoyed holding her, the simple act of having the vixen in his arms, to feel another’s heartbeat against his own, to no longer sleep alone.

It almost made him feel… human.

The timing however, left much to be desired.

Reluctant with what was to come next, Six hesitantly sought to his undersuit, pulling at the seal around his neck. Though his reservations regarding these events were still quite clear and present in his thoughts, Six pressed on with the dogged determination that had been so thoroughly bred into him. No matter how disconcerting this was, he would not shy away from her. They had been through too much. She had been through too much. He was tired of the responsibility he carried in her sadness and misfortune.

He would do this, make this one concession… for her, if only to see that smile he cherished so much.

The act of undressing with others was not unfamiliar to the spartan. The camp where he had been trained was military in every sense of the word. Nearly everything was communal. No. what unsettled him was his proximity with the vixen and the inherently informal nature of this experience.

That being so, Six struggled mightily to mask his tumultuous emotions as he once more lifted the unclothed vixen into his arms.

Even though they shared a bed together, one where they both often wore a nominal quantity of clothing, this situation was nearly across the spectrum, strange given the near illusory difference between the minimalistic nature of nightwear and its closeness to nudity.

Fur, with the consistency and pliability of down, fluttered softly against his naked skin. And the spartan warred internally to prevent any adverse reaction. He had never before experienced such a profound sensation of vulnerability as that moment when she wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed deeply into his eyes, so close as to make it an impossibility to turn away.

Insecurity was a new sensation he was becoming swiftly familiar with. There was no escape from that viridian gaze. The awkward uncertainty had yet to leave her muzzle, but that did nothing to stop her intense stare.

It was that same smile that had yet to waiver which proved to be the action necessary to lower his guard just that much further. To the point where he even found his smile returning as well. After all, he trusted Krystal with not only his life, but his soul. There was nothing that he would not do for her, and if she so desired moments like this… and perhaps even more. He would find it within himself to endure.

“See? Not so bad is it?” She inquired with a certain look to her muzzle that was not entirely like the one before, something new he had yet to perceive and classify. Nonetheless, he liked it. There was something… special, about that look, something… warm… heartfelt. Private, was an adjective he would use willingly, something meant for just the two of them.

“No. It’s not.” He agreed, partially confused to find that it was in fact, not so bad. In all honesty he had expected an entirely different feeling from all this, or perhaps no feeling at all. He was pleasantly surprised that was no true. He in fact enjoyed holding her like this, the closeness, the immediacy of their connection with one another.

He would not deny either that a different part of him also found satisfaction in this development. Six had yet to identify this newfound perception within him, to ascertain and confront what had been lethargically seething deep within him for as long as he had felt the way he did about Krystal, only that it set his blood afire with something that was not rage, an entirely new experience for him.

Only one other moment had spoken to him as strongly as this, back when she had first expressed her interest in him. Everything about her in this moment appealed to him, the scent of her fur and its texture against his bare flesh; regardless of the mildly unpleasant scent she no doubt wished washed clean, the way her eyes seemed to twinkle with warmth and compassion, the tail so innocuously coiled around his leg.

A lingering but no less profound silence loitered between them, the vixen content in prolonging this closeness that she had strived so hard to achieve and finally had grasped, the spartan still processing the sudden influx of strange emotions and signals his body struggled greatly to relay to him though a lifetime of browbeaten conditioning.

After a few moments, Six came to a decision.

“I am… not opposed to this.”

This was it he realized.

This is what he had been unintentionally searching for his entire life. This is what it felt like to live.

This is what it felt like to be loved, the closest one could be to attaining what he perceived to be the meaning of existence.

Warmth unlike anything he could possibly hope to understand welled up deep inside him, emerging in places he had never thought possible, the deepest elements of his core alight with a soothing heat that did not directly correlate with the water washing over them. An ache so intense he doubted its own veracity.

“That you could possibly care for a man such as I… is a mystery.”

“No, not care.” Krystal answered with a low rumble that reverberated within her throat. The vixen clung fiercely to him, resting her muzzle on his shoulder as she held tight to that which kept her anchored so firmly to a world she once thought dour and inhospitable, two sentiments that could have – at one point in time – been used to describe the very male she grasped so dearly.

“Love.”

*****

It was in that treasured time he spent in the bathroom with Krystal, a strange place to hold close to one’s heart, those precious moments where Six allowed himself to feel something he had once forced himself to be rid of, that the spartan was once more able to stave off that lingering entity of desperation that hung over his shoulders. It was the vixen’s presence that banished away his doubts and insecurities, and the love she expressed to the spartan that kept him whole.

Perhaps the vixen need not find someone to replace him. Perhaps he was indeed that which she desired. He could not tell, for no one had ever desired him before.

He only knew that he would continue to serve her with dedication and faith, the individualistic way he knew how to live.

Though she had expressed to him her loathing of sleep, it was clear after he assisted the vixen in her embarrassed efforts to clothe herself, that she remained exhausted and weak from her injuries. It was under his guidance that she once more fell to slumber, and that he stood vigil over her rest.

He himself had little need to seek out that which she required. While it had been ongoing five days since he last felt true slumber, it did not call to him. She was safe, she was with him, yet he still could not find the peace of sleep. Images of those moments on Fichina haunted him, and would continue to do so for a long time to come.

His only real reconciliation came in the act of watching her as she lay curled under the sheets of their bed. The visible sight of the vixen reaffirming in his mind that she had not been lost to him in that artic expanse. He knew the depth of his attachment to Krystal was not healthy, that it might borderline an unnatural level of obsession. But he knew no other way of life. His obsessions was what gave him his strength, the determination that had conquered warzones and stalled even the march of the mighty Covenant on several occasions. He had been fixated on his goals of human preservation, and those goals had transferred in his need to preserve these most recent individuals under his care, one admittedly set upon a pedestal higher than the rest.

Even now he could feel that same possessiveness include the pink feline, someone he had at most, spoken a handful of words to and had not even seen since he placed her in Fox’s care. And yet, the vulpine informed him that she was a part of this team, this… family. Now that the mission was over, he found value in her existence, now that she was here; she would find herself included in his overarching protection.

Undeniably it was strange, his yearning to protect others. Nevertheless it was one of his very few redeeming qualities, or at least he considered to be so. He would die for any one of them in a heartbeat; such was the depth of his loyalty. Their lives were and always would be of greater importance and value than that of a broken, washed up soldier of a race that did not seem to exist.

Before Krystal, protecting humanity had been his purpose, his only reason for existence; such could not be stated enough. While a noble pursuit, his origins and occupation was anything but, yet it was all he had. Now, he had many things he previously had never even dreamed of.

Fox and his crew, a family unlike anything he could have ever believed or hoped for. Krystal… Miyu, two women that insisted to stand by him, to give him both direction and purpose, two things he struggled to find not only here, but in the life before. He had a home, a real place to truly call his own, both on the Great Fox and the lodge on a world he had once thought of as Reach, yet found such a remembrance fade under its new moniker. The spartan possessed worldly goods, clothes, weapons, ammunition, even a half built project in the words of his new home, things that would all but be impossible in the world he originated from. Those things belonged to him and no one else, not humanity, not ONI, and certainly not Colonel Ackerson.

Every decision, every choice, every movement he made was of his own volition. Here he could really be his own man, what Jorge had wished he would aspire to be, he became.

Would the spartan-II be proud of his fellow soldier’s achievements?   

Had he at last attained that which Jorge spoke so fondly of?

A small, infinitesimal part of Six, did not care what the answer to those questions might be. He knew what he had, and the opinion of a dead man would not impart any more meaning upon his accomplishments.

He did not have to fear his past, not anymore.

A sigh escaped Six’s lips as he finally relented to a quandary he had debated upon for what seemed like an eon, but was in actuality an internal struggle many years in the making. There was no more purpose in upholding needless pretense, he need not fear anymore that emotion was a sign of weakness that must be purged. He did not have to live a fictitious life, denying himself the right to feel as any man deserved to. The spartan no longer found it necessary to hide his humanity underneath the guise of an unfeeling machine that existed for no other reason than conflict and the pursuit of it.

In truth he was tired, though the source was more psychological than physical. He was tired of maintaining a façade, of pretending to be something he might have been but no longer was, to conform to a standard that at one point might have been mandatory, but now was rendered obsolete.

If he wished to express himself, what right did anyone have to judge him for it? His tears had not been a sign of weakness. They were an expression of the depth of his affection towards a woman he cared more for than life itself. If he could not cry, then he truly would be a monster.

Even now he tortured himself with pointless stoicism, why conjure the futile delusion that he did not wish to lay down beside the sleeping form of his… beloved? This was a designation he was only now just coming to accept, including all the doubts and elations that came with it. In his heart he knew that was what he wanted, to own that which all people, all humans, yearned for, yet a part of him still tried to preserve the notion that he had no need for such inane desires.

He feared it was a piece of him that would never truly die.

For now however, he beat back such petty considerations and moved from his seat, silken sheets caressing his skin as the spartan slipped into the bed beside Krystal. Tucking an arm under her waist and threading the other through the vixen’s own furred appendage, he drew the female fox close to his chest, resting his chin against the slender form of her furred shoulder and breathing deep in guilty pleasure, the scent of strawberry shampoo in the sapphire tresses of her hair.

The vixen murmured softly in her slumber, unconsciously coiling the white peaked cobalt plume of a tail around his waist in content.

Six allowed himself the barest trace of a truly happy smile to conform to the otherwise harsh and unfeeling landscape of his scarred countenance.

This… this was all that he would ever desire, the culmination of all his wants and needs founded in the simplest pleasure of holding Krystal close to his heart, one of the very few individuals in all of existence he would ever make room for in a place he thought long since abandoned.

Soon, he found that which had alluded him since the moment they touched down on the inhospitable ice world where he first laid his heart bare, both occupants of the bedroom finding peace and solace in the warmth of their dreams, what would be the first and the most pleasant reveries of Six’s life.

********

Miyu shifted her attention away from the television and its recorded program to cast her gaze across the common room, watching as a groggy feline swathed in pink fur stumbled her way towards the nearest couch. Black lips curled in faint amusement as the lynx took in the rather delirious expression on her fellow cat’s muzzle.

“Near on three days and you finally wake up? I’ve had my fair share of cat naps, but I gotta say I’m kinda jealous.”

A muttered half-growl was the female’s response as Katt took a few moments to compose herself.

“You see how you feel after being cooped up in an icebox for two weeks.” Katt’s retort was fierce but in a joking manner, and Miyu found herself chuckling alongside her fellow feline.

“I’d have to say no to that, at least till my winter coat came in.”

Not bothering to answer that with another quip, Katt sunk further into the sofa and wrapped herself up in a heavy blanket, muttering about how she was “still cold.”

The rosy hued feline was silent for a few minutes after that, though she did not wait long before opening her mouth to bring voice to something that had been bothering her the second she regained consciousness. “So… that big ass robot….” She left her inquiry open-ended as she looked towards Miyu expectantly.

The Lynx nodded, unsurprised at the question. “Yep… that was Six.”

Katt mimicked her nod, somewhat dazedly. “Well… I can certainly see why Fox hired him. I’ve seen tanks that were smaller.”

Miyu smiled. “Yeah he certainly is a… unique individual.”

“Unique? I think the adjective you were looking for was well-muscled? Built like a god perhaps?” Fox’s newest recruit had a physique that put body builders to shame, the kind that was captured by classical artwork in museums and portrayed as ideal physical perfection. Even as brief as her look at this male was, she had easily gleaned as much. That armor of his had certainly not been designed to hide anything, rather it seemed to accentuate.

The fur on Miyu’s cheeks darkened considerably. “I suppose you could put it like that.”

An idea was soon to take root in Katt’s mind and a mischievous glint flashed in the feline’s eyes.

“So….”

“No, absolutely not.” The lynx was quick to ensure there would be no misunderstanding. “He’s taken, doubly so.” 

A pink eyebrow was suitably raised in curiosity.

Realizing that she had just been led on to admit something gossip worthy, Miyu donned a look of utter mortification. “I… that’s not to say… what I meant was.” She babbled incoherently, faltering verbally for an appropriate retort.

“I’m just fooling with ya, Miyu… testing the waters so to speak.” Katt mercifully explained before the lynx was forced to prattle for too long. “It’s been a while since I was around the old crew so I’m making up for lost time. Though I am curious, who’s the other lucky lady?”

At that Miyu allowed herself a roll of the eyes. As if it would not already be obvious.

“Really now… Krystal? Honestly I didn’t think that introverted girl would ever have it in her to land a mate, especially not a stud like him. Where’d you find that guy anyways? I don’t think Corneria grows em that big.”

“It’s a… long story.” The lynx admitted with a sigh. “Suffice to say he’s not really from around these parts. But that’s a topic for another time, when we have a few good drinks of the alcoholic variety and more pleasant company a variety all their own.

“I can certainly agree to that, been too long since we last had a get together like that.”

“What’s it been? Near a year now?”

“Just about I’d reckon.” Katt agreed with a far off sigh. “Just about as long as we’ve been apart.”

“And yet you still cling to the notion that Falco is interested in you?” Miyu wondered with partial notes of disbelief and ridicule.

“No. Not anymore… at least not in that way. As a friend maybe, but not like that.” Katt answered with a frown. “I’ve grown away from that childish desire and come to realize the fact that he doesn’t really seem all that interested in intimate relationships, especially after this mission. I mean, he hasn’t even bothered to see me once yet, or at least I can safely presume as such though I was unconscious for a while.” A swift nod from the Lynx would confirm that suspicion.   

Miyu was actually surprised at the rather levelheaded admission from her friend, and glad as well that she had been able to shrug off her romantic attachment to Falco. “I’m impressed, Katt. You’ve grown.”

In response the pink feline shrugged. “A year on my own may have helped me see that.”

“Well if it’s any consolation to you, I hope you guys remain friends. God knows you’ve known each other longer than I have.” She didn’t want Falco to suffer, merely that he get off his damn pedestal sometimes. Though she did smirk at the fact Six’s arrival had suitably murdered his usual delusions of superiority.

“I do too Miyu, I do too.” Katt sighed heavily, though her dour mood lasted only moments before she grinned emphatically.

“So… you and Six fuck yet?”

The echoing wheezing of Miyu choking on her own saliva reverberated through the common room for several minutes.

*****

Krystal awoke to the unfamiliar sensation of two solid weights encircling her torso, both objects smooth and warm, draped around her chest as they were. She came to recognize these intruders of her personal space as the presence of a pair of strong arms thoroughly intertwined with her upper body, and in the vixen’s current sleepy condition it took a few more moments than expected for her to realize that she was not alone in her bed.

Not seconds after this recognition, her ear flicked of its own volition in a subconscious reaction to an outwards stimulus, an exceptionally localized gust of wind that could be attributed to the indistinct rumble filling the air around her. The origin of this strange occurrence emanated from the other occupant of the mattress currently residing quite intimately beside her, in the form of a soft snoring, like the gentle undercurrent of a calm ocean.

Still intellectually perplexed by the last dregs of slumber, she took an indolent paw and ran it across the arm tucked underneath her ribs, tracing a padded digit across the contours of the superbly muscled appendage that held her close to an equally herculean barrel of a chest. Furless, smooth skin, an easily discernible muscle mass… there was only one individual in the entire galaxy that could possibly exhibit all of these traits.

A small, very self-satisfied smile quickly pulled at the corners of Krystal’s lips as she nestled deeper into the warmth and unusual intimacy of the spartan’s unconscious embrace. She did not know the reason for his sudden affection, but was in no way bothering to question it. This was the first time since they started sleeping together in the same bed that Six allowed himself such latitude, the spartan usually hesitant to undergo prolonged physical contact with her, even when unconscious. She knew that his discomfort with physical connection was the blatant result of a lifetime devoid of even the humblest of benevolent luxuries afforded to the common soul.

That he was now not only allowing himself such leeway, but embracing it without her need to pester him, was a huge advancement in the spartan’s struggles with the simplicities of life. This truth in all honesty only made the moment sweeter for her.

The vixen debated on whether or not to greet the day now, the decision however was made easy and transparent when she turned her neck and took in the serene, slumbering visage of Noble Six. In that moment, where her eyes took in his untroubled expression, the usual seemingly permeant gaunt lines induced by the accumulation of years of stress and violence faded to nonexistence, Krystal realized that she could not take this away from him, not that she would have wanted to. This was the first time since she had seen his foreign visage that he appeared… content. His face was of a man who finally found a small measure of peace, and she felt a deep warm glow in her heart at the sight of it.

Since the day she realized that she had fallen for him, the vixen’s happiness was almost entirely derived of ensuring that he felt just as satisfied with his life as she was with her own. It had been a long time since she last felt so at ease and content with her place. It was the sort of youthful delight that reminded her of how young she really was. Not twenty years old and she had already forgotten what true bliss felt like.

After Cerinia’s destruction, the day she lost her family and everyone she had ever known and loved in an instant, her life had lost its color. She had lived day by day, trudging through a dreary, pallid existence, driven only by her quest for vengeance. And she had lived with that burden… that pain, for so long that she had nearly forgotten what it meant to be happy, what it was like to live not just for the sake of living.

Then one day she had encountered the most frustrating, enigmatic, determined, and wonderful male she could have ever hoped to meet. He had initially been everything that she despised, violent, callous, and seemingly without a heart. But as she delved deeper, forced herself to look past the walls of apathy and rage he erected around himself, Noble Six had become everything that she loved and cherished in this world.

She still wondered how someone who outwardly held nothing but rage in his heart could care so much. Krystal had never met someone as kind and tender as Six when he let his barriers fall. His passion for duty and the unflinching sacrifices he so effortlessly underwent, not just for his own people, but for her, cemented his position in her heart as the most valuable thing in her life since the day she left the broken husk of a world she once called home.

Somehow she knew in her heart that her father and mother would be proud of her choice in a mate. He would have made for a noble and kind king, though she doubted Six would ever consider either of attributes as associated with himself. There were still some things about his past that the spartan had yet to confide in her, dark premonitions he had only vaguely hinted at. A small part of her was frightened to uncover what those could be, what exactly he had accomplished on the behest of his superiors. After their initial confrontation she had been able to piece together the type of soldier Six had been before he had found her, apathetic, detached from emotion and rigidly adherent to an unflinching resolve of restless dedication to commands.

All in all, it spelled a bad combination for an off the books operative running black operations.

But she promised herself, no matter what it was he might have carried out under the guidelines of his masters, she would not blame him. He did not deserve to carry the burden that should never have been his to bear.

But for now she would let such bleak thoughts fade in favor of her current and most pleasant company.

Krystal did not know how much time she spent locked tightly in his slumbering embrace, but she cherished every second of it. In her mind there was nothing better. She had strived for so long to have this moment with him, to attain this form of appreciation. Of all the individuals in this galaxy or any other, Six, a man not of her species, born to and molded by a life of war and misery, had seen something in her that transcended his inborn inhibitions.

In spite of everything he had suffered though, a childhood of conflict and loss, trained with only the conviction that his greatest contribution to life was to surrender his… he loved her.

She knew this, every time he shared that look with her that was offered to none other than perhaps her own closest friend, every moment he stood at her side, every time he unflinchingly threw himself in harm’s way to protect her. Everything he did, he did for her. And the realization of that truth was more than she could have ever hoped to find in a lifemate.

When she woke every morning, she offered her thanks to the spirits of her ancestors for bestowing the wonderful human named Six, upon her, sometimes wondering if she deserved his tireless devotion. She had never before met someone so dedicated, so selfless, in their pursuits for another.  Nor was she likely to, the character of the noble spartan had been formed in perhaps the most punishing crucible imaginable for sapient life. There was no one quite like Six, the depth of his personality was perhaps too convoluted to ever truly understand. Though she would do her best to in the many years she prayed they would have together.

For now she would take comfort in what time they had, and continue to cherish this gift as long as she was able, especially this moment. She knew not the next time she might find herself in such close connection with Six, but wanted to make the most of the present.

Unfortunately, good things were not meant to last forever, and her sharp hearing detected the subtle change in his breathing pattern that beckoned his return to the conscious world, not soon after her decision.

As the majority of her still wished to preserve this peaceful, pleasurable moment for as long as she could successfully drag it out, the vixen continued to feign sleep after his awakening, though the low rumble of contentment emanating from her chest was sure to spoil the deception.

Unsurprisingly, Six had not been deceived in the slightest.

“You’re awake….”

The sound of his voice, a deep rumbling growl that was to her more enchanting than any melody that had ever graced her ears, sent a cool shiver of electricity down her spine at its immediacy, the faint push of the spartan’s exhalation ruffling the fur on the back of her neck.

The vixen shook her head in childlike willfulness, unwilling to see this moment cut so short. “Please… just five more minutes.” She glanced at the clock on the nearby bed stand. “Fox won’t have need for us till we arrive planetside” They should still have at least five more hours before then.

Expecting a curt dismissal of her plea and the sorrowful departure of his hands around her abdomen, the vixen was surprised to hear an unusually doting chuckle, murmuring in unexpected pleasure as he reaffirmed his hold on her slender frame, ensuring that she remained tight to his chest, so close that she could hear the smooth reverberation of his beating heart.

“Of course… if that is your wish.”

Though a small part of her wished to, the vixen did not question his sudden reevaluation of affection, far too distracted by the uncontrollable clamor of her racing heart. Thankfully the rumble of her low purring masked this from him.

“It is.” Krystal affirmed vehemently, a quite giggle bubbling from her lips as she failed to successfully conceal her blissful grin.

“Then it is mine as well.” Six concluded, the vixen feeling his chin brush against the side of her throat as he nodded in confirmation. “I have no immediate duties or orders from Fox today, and Slippy has offered to watch over my armaments on occasion. For once I…” The spartan paused uncertainly. “I have nothing to do.”

A small, increasingly vocal part of Krystal’s mind suggested there was something else that he could do, but her innate mortification swiftly strangled that notion before it could gather any more momentum. Her body’s inclination for such a suggestion was still a powerful one, yet she succeeded as she did every other day in suppressing her instinct to… breed, to put it ineloquently. The vixen would not lie to herself and say she did not want to have sex with Six, she found that concept quite attractive. But she wanted it to be on her terms, and not that of her baser drives.

More and more often she found herself wishing that the species she had descended from did not suffer from such hardcoded bodily cravings. This cycle was particularly persistent, and her current, rather compromising position, did little help with her self-control.

Thankfully her mind wandered away from such thoughts as she considered something.

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” She asked him.

Six was silent for a few moments, and Krystal watched as he unconsciously threaded his bulky fingers through her paw. “A small part of me thinks so, and yet… what is a spartan if he is not industrious and unrelenting in his duties? What is a man if he is not prepared to sacrifice even his own freedom?”

An answer would have been given if she had not felt that he had more thoughts to unburden. Instead she merely offered his intertwined hand a comforting squeeze. Though she did not see his resulting smile, she did feel his grip tighten that much more around her.

“All my life I have sacrificed for my people, I surrendered not only my youth but my own humanity when it had been asked of me, all of this I did without restraint or hesitation. I worked tirelessly, for days, weeks, and even months on end without rest or respite. To me now, to not spend every waking moment in service to something is… difficult.” Six admitted with a sigh. “Yet I know in my heart that those days are past and I will never be that man again, and I find no sorrow at that. Yet my remorse is all consuming nonetheless. Is it right, Krystal, to feel guilt for something so utterly beyond your control?”

As she expected his troubles were caused not by the present, but by his past. She had never known the kind of indefatigable dedication that Six had driven himself with for years, but she did know a great deal about self-loathing.

“Your guilt stems from more than your lack of busy work, Six.” She cautioned sagely. “You are concerned that to find peace with this new world would be to betray all of those you believe you left behind. This is not true. To find joy in moments bereft of conflict and duty is no great evil.”

The vixen shuffled until Six hesitantly loosened his grip, just enough so that she could twist her body around to meet his gaze, a rarely soulful pair of uncertain eyes visible in the dim light of the bedroom.

“You have been through great trials that few ever experience, Six. The life you have spoken of is one that no person should ever have to endure. For that I would think you deserve the right to time for yourself, more so than most.”

“I…” The spartan seemed about ready to disagree, but something caused him to refrain as whatever he had been about to say was momentarily postponed. The look in his eyes was far off and contemplative, and Krystal studied him silently as he ran an idle hand through the fur on her forearm.

“Perhaps… no… you are right. But I fear that truth will do little to dissuade this unshakable notion of wrongness.”

“Give it time, Six. The path to adjustment is not an easy one I fear. But it will get better. I promise you.” She offered him a comforting grin, one that he was slow to replicate. “No matter what happens, you’ll always have me.”

“Yes I will, won’t I?”

Krystal sensed that though formed as such, it was not so much as a question as a realization. His next words were both shocking and unexpected, spoken as they were with such staunch conviction and open affection.

“Thank you, Krystal.”

No two words before had ever before incited such pleasure and delight in the vixen’s heart. A warm wetness formed under the lids of her eyes and she felt the damp track of a fresh tear glide its way down her cheek.

“You are always there when I need you, with just the right words that need to be said.” The spartan brought up a hand and wiped away the solitary tear with a calloused thumb.

On instinct, the vixen wrapped her paws around his outspread arm and brought it up to her muzzle, planting a soft kiss on top of his thumb, discerning the indistinct salty tang of his flesh as she ran her tongue across her lips.

“And I’ll continue to be there for as long as you’ll have me.” She whispered huskily, afraid that if she spoke any louder that her voice would fail her.  

There was more Six wanted to say but he held himself back, afraid of what might be vocalized. He did not know what he might have said, only that it would open a path he was not quite yet ready to follow. He needed some more time to think before he committed fully to what he expected would be a new experience all together. Till such a moment, he would allow himself a little more personal discretion.

Uncertain but confident in his movement, Six cupped Krystal’s lower jaw in the palm of his hand. The vixen offered no resistance as he gently brought her muzzle to his lips, sealing them together with a slight measure of force. It lasted for at most a few seconds, but felt to him like an age.

His enhanced sensory capabilities documented and categorized every sensation he felt in that short kiss, the short fur around her jaws, something that would have repulsed him not so long ago, the whiskers that so softly danced across the skin on his cheeks and the cool moisture of her wetted lips.

With slowness and perhaps a small part of reluctance, Six pulled away from her lips, watching as the somewhat insensate vixen sluggishly opened her eyes, a glint of fire radiating in that emerald intelligence that indicated an unspoken and perhaps not entirely unknown desire.

Six was almost completely certain he knew what that smoldering gaze intended. But there was more research he needed before he trod down that path.  

Patiently, he waited till the gleam in her viridian irises abated and rationality had once more returned to her senses before speaking.

“I think that Fox could stand to wait a little longer before he needs us.” For once he would allow himself to embrace this closeness that Krystal so fervently wished for. Six could not tell when it was he last felt so content.

In that moment her eyes were all that mattered to him.