Spring in Tchakova Park - LilyMurphy (2024)

Chapter 1: Lights on the Water

Chapter Text

He had come to frequent Tchakova Park.

It wasn’t the park itself he enjoyed; the blooming cherry blossom trees sweetening the air over the paved walking paths, the collection of flora from planets both familiar and far away twisting and bowing in the late spring breeze, or the sunset throwing pinky hues across the pond the park centered around. The scenery was nice, he was the first to admit that. Even with Cortana chirping in his ear about the origin, species and genus of every flower or tree he would linger by for too long. He could live with that.

What he had become most fond of though was the noise. He had grown up on battlefields where noise had always been plenty. Thick and heavy and violent. But, the noise he experienced within the park was so different from the noise he knew. It felt lighter somehow. No thunder of gunshots and explosions, no pained shouts or battle cries, nor orders shouted directly through the auditory system of his helmet. That didn’t exist here. It was like a low hum; pleasant and intoxicating. The music of the street performers, the laughter and chatter of passing civilians, the low hum of motorbikes, the heavy breathing of joggers as they passed him on the paths… it didn’t make him feel like a soldier. Like a Spartan. It made him feel human.

He spent most of his time between deployments this way, wandering the footpaths that weaved through the park. Doctor Keyes encouraged them to seek joy outside of the program since she took over; to find themselves after spending so long being told who they were and what to be. The young doctor had been openly horrified when she had asked each of the Spartans what hobbies or interests they had during their get-to-know-you meetings she had required of them after she had been instated as the head of the division. Not a single one of them could provide an answer outside of her single parameter to her question; that it could not be Spartan related. That had become their assignment that week; find something you enjoy .

So he would walk. No orders, no demands, just purposeless walking for the sake of walking.

He would stay out past dusk, drinking in the final sounds of Reach until the final group of kids would gather their balls and make their way to the transit stations. The apartments that stood over the park would come alive shortly after, the warm lights that illuminated their windows glittering on the surface of the pond. The signs of families returning home for the night, gathering around tables and exchanging stories about their days. Some nights he would choose a bench; he would sit and count the windows bathed in light until they flickered out one by one like snuffed flames. He’d watch as the city around him drifted off to sleep, the light in the windows diminishing one at a time, before tucking his hands in his pockets and returning to base alone.

He had been confused by it the first time he noticed, observing that the park would fall quiet and the buildings around him brighter at the same time every night over the span of a week. Cortana must have sensed his confusion, as she did everything else.

“Six o’ clock in the evening is the average time in which most residents of Reach return home, according to my findings. The busiest route times on Reach Public Transport are the… ” she had explained calmly, her chipper voice ringing in his ears as she listed off the working hours of the average citizen.

He had stopped listening, that word sitting heavy in his chest as he watched a man on a balcony over the park hold his child, pointing to the crafts that arrived and departed at FLEETCOM in the distance; home . Cortana had defined it in every way she could possibly conjure, but he still couldn’t make sense of it, nor the feeling in his chest that arose each time she spoke it.

Silver Team had spent the better part of the week in the Monaco System, returning only several hours earlier. It had been a successful mission; high Covenant casualties and no Spartan injuries. Kai, Riz and Vannax had filed into their bunks after debrief, all exhausted and bruised and in desperate need of a shower. But he had found himself walking until he reached the transit station, the noises of battle still banging in his ears; too loud and too violent. He needed to walk, needed to listen, needed a moment of stillness and the gentle melody of humanity at its most peaceful. At its most gentle. At its most calm.

The park was mostly empty, John finding himself alone on the walking trail that twisted around the pond. He had remembered seeing the advertisem*nts for a violinist playing in the amphitheater that night the week prior, his feet taking him down the familiar path he had traveled so many times over the months. He liked attending the shows, he tried to go as many as he could when they were on stand-by. Occasionally Kai would join him, but he preferred going alone. Kai preferred to talk, he preferred to listen.

He pressed on, the late spring breeze ruffling the trees overhead and scattering the pavement with a sprinkling of fat pink blooms. He peeked through the slips between branches, counting the apartment lights that slowly began to illuminate as if beckoning the residents home. He felt that same tug in his chest he always did as he paused, the sun dropping lower and casting his shadow long and dark against the pavement. A dog barked somewhere in the distance, pulling his eyes from the pinprick glows. He shook his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his civvies and continuing towards the bend in the path that would take him to the amphitheater.

“My scans show that your body is in need of sleep,” Cortana spoke, her always chipper voice soft, “Perhaps you should return to base? You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” he grunted out.

The ache in his muscles from nights spent sleeping in his armor proved her right, even though he would never outwardly admit it to her. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep with the ugly, visceral noises of battle still ringing in his ears. He didn’t want that to be what he heard as he fell asleep, for it to be the sound of the dreams he now had since removing the pellet.

He kept a persistent pace, the sun dropping lower in the pinky evening skies. He stopped, watching the waters of the pond shimmer golden in the sunset, still reflecting the few clouds that hung overhead. A pair of geese sat on the surface, gliding steadily towards a small boy at the shore. He couldn’t have been older than six, pant legs rolled to his knees as he waded out into the water, a slice of bread gripped in his small fist. John watched his little face squish with determination as he threw it with all of his might, the slice plopping in the water a few feet from where the geese swam. The twosome honked happily, gliding over and ripping apart the soggy snack. The boy let out a triumphant laugh, turning to where his mother and father stood on shore, a wide grin that lacked a few teeth splitting his face.

“Dad! Dad! Did ya see me?” He called, clumsily running from the water into the man’s outstretched arms.

The man chuckled, tossing the boy up onto his hip, unminding of the wet feet that dripped into his pant leg. “I saw, bud! Nice job!”

“I threw it so far and the gooses got it!”

“I saw!” The man confirmed again, returning his child’s excited smile with one that was nearly identical. John let out a chuckle at the boy’s excitement, that tug growing into a hollow feeling that sat heavy in his belly.

The boy’s mother joined them, the three chatting happily as they departed from the pond. On the waters, one goose bumped into the other, tugging gently at its feathers, the other letting out a honk as they glided away once more. John checked his watch before stepping toward the pond; he had a few minutes to spare before the performance began. He watched the geese slide across the water, one flapping its wings when the other dipped under the surface and exposed its pink feet.

“Would you like to know the species of goose? From the mottled gray and white plumage, I believe it is-.”

“You’re ruining it.” He said curtly, the A.I. letting out an exasperated sigh at her interrupted fact before silencing once more. Somewhere near, a dog barked again. The geese took to the skies with a chorus of flapping wings and warning honks, the reflection on the water turning from pink to purple as dusk fell on the park. His eyes remained on the disrupted surface of the water, watching the rings where the geese sat ripple across the water.

“John!”

“No, Cortana.”

“John, I must insist-.”

“I said no, Cortana,” he growled.

She let out a disapproving sigh, “ Fine, have it your way then. Get hit by the projectile incoming from behind you traveling at a speed of approximately-.”

“Heads up!”

He turned before the woman could shout out her warning, fingers curling around the projectile. A black and white dog bounded up to him, its brown eyes fixed upon his hand. It let out a whine, leaping an impressive height straight up, its tongue lolling out of its mouth. He opened his palm, exposing the bright orange rubber ball slick with saliva that had been moments away from pegging him in the back of his head. The dog followed his movement, letting out another begging whine, the tags on its collar jingling.

“Ooo, a border collie! We haven’t seen one of these before! They are a British breed of herding dog that hail from the Anglo-Saxton border on Earth. They are used mostly as sheep-herding or companion animals.”

The dog leapt up again, eyes still fixed upon the ball and ears twitching. He chuckled when it landed, stretching so that its tail stuck up straight to the dusky skies. It barked at him, a friendly sound, the animal’s whole rear end wiggling as it wagged its tail.

“Sorry!” The same voice called.

John looked up from the dog, finding the owner approaching. The woman’s ponytail swished as she jogged towards him, a red nylon leash clipped neatly across her body. She was dressed in black athletic clothes, save the pair of shockingly bright pink running shoes she wore. The woman slowed as she neared him, offering him a warm, apologetic smile, “Sorry, I guess I got carried away with that last throw. She isn’t bothering you, is she?”

He shook his head, the dog still watching him with a desperate anticipation. “No ma’am,” he said, holding up the ball. He had watched others throw similar balls to their dogs on his walks. He had always wondered what was so enjoyable about the activity. “May I?”

The woman smiled again, freckled nose crinkling. She nodded and gestured to the ball, “Be my guest. You’d be doing my arm a favor.”

He gave the ball a toss in his palm, chuckling as the dog’s eyes leapt to follow it before he gave it a toss. The dog took off in a sprint towards the ball, its tags jingling merrily as it ran. The woman gave out a low whistle, watching the ball sail across the grassy field 40 yards before sinking down with a bounce. “Nice throw.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s Sadie. I’m Violet,” she said, holding out a hand to him. He peered down at it, impossibly small compared to his own. He took it gently, careful not to squeeze too tight. His whole hand closed around hers, warm and soft against his calloused palm, giving it a small shake. Her green eyes darted between his hand and his face, that same warm smile still stretching her lips.

“You’re holding her hand too long, Chief.”

He dropped her hand, crossing his arms across his chest and returning his gaze to the pond.

“John.”

“Sorry we scared your friends away,” the woman said, looking over at him.

John raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed firmly against his chest. “What?”

“The geese,” she said, pointing to the spot in the pond the geese had departed from, the rippled water now smooth and glassy once again. She hugged herself as the cool breeze ruffled the trees again, “I noticed you were watching them before Sadie scared them off. She likes to chase them.”

“Oh,” he said with a nod, “no. That’s fine.”

A silence fell between the two again, Sadie finally reaching where the ball had touched down. The dog scooped it up, bounding back towards where they stood in a tired trot. John shifted, glancing down at the woman again, opening his mouth to speak. He closed it, unsure of what to say to the pretty woman beside him. She tucked a strand of rich brown hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear, whistling and calling the dog. It reminded him of the foil wrapped chocolates Doctor Keyes kept in a dish on her desk. She would push them towards the Spartans each time they would visit the lab for a med eval. Kai would always complain that they were too bitter, but Miranda would slide one to him with a knowing look. He never declined them, chalking it up to politeness until he found himself reaching for one without Keyes’ prompting during a visit to her lab.

“They’re fun to watch. The geese,” she clarified, the dog nearing them, “They’re cool animals really.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“They mate for life, you know. It’s pretty romantic,” she gave a little shrug, flashing that warm smile at him again, “as far as birds go.”

“She’s right! They do! They are of the 3 to 5% of animals that are monogamous.”

“Cortana.”

“Sorry.”

He returned her smile. She still looked up at him with that smile; warm and bright and kind. “I didn’t know that.”

Her face twisted with a pang of embarrassment, her tongue poking out slightly before she let out a laugh, “Sorry. That was super weird and nerdy of me. I don't know why I said that. What a weird thing to say to a stranger.”

He chuckled, her laugh high and clear and musical. “No, it was interesting. I liked it.”

She pressed her hands to her cheeks, a slight pink flush creeping up her neck, freckled shoulder still shaking in laughter. He liked her laugh.

“What I mean is,” she laughed, “It’s my favorite part of the park. The pond.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a nod, the corners of his mouth still pulled up in amusem*nt, “It’s…quiet.”

She nodded, an agreeing smile splitting her face, “It is.”

Sadie skidded to a halt in front of John, discarding the ball at his feet. The dog panted heavily, rear still wiggling with excitement as she let out an expectant groan. The dog nosed the ball towards him, obviously uncaring of her overly exerted state.

“I should get her home. It’s her dinner time,” Violet explained, lifting the lead over her head and dropping to a knee. Sadie sat beside her obediently, panting heavily while Violet clipped her lead back to her harness.

“Alright.”

“It was nice to meet you, John. Sorry again for nearly hitting you with a ball. And for the weird bird fact,” she finished with another pleasant giggle.

He smiled, Violet straightening up again. Her bangs fell in her eyes and he felt the strange urge to reach out and brush them away. Instead, he kept his arms firmly crossed. “Anytime.”

She half smiled, scooping the ball up. She whistled again, breaking into a jog, Sadie trotting at her side as they started to cross the field towards the street. John watched her hair swish as she jogged, keeping time with each step. She turned after a few steps, smiling at him over her shoulder and giving him a little wave. He returned it, feeling silly as he gave her a small awkward smile back. He turned back to the pond, Cortana’s voice filling his head.

“Chief, during your conversation with her, your body released high levels of dopamine and norepinephrine. Your heart rate increased and when you touched her hand, you began to perspire. I believe you are attracted to that woman!”

“Leave it alone, Cortana,” he responded. The street lamps flickered on as the sun ducked under the horizon, the pond reflecting the first glimmer of stars along with the window lights.

“You never let me have any fun. Anyhow, if you would still like to attend the performance, we should be on our way to the amphitheater. It begins in approximately five minutes.”

John pushed the sound of bell-like laughter from his mind, suddenly reminded of his original mission in attending the park. He turned over his shoulder, swallowing the lump in his throat that had formed when he saw her jog across the field towards him, feet carrying back towards the walking paths. He glanced towards the direction in which she and Sadie had trotted off, searching for the bounce of her ponytail on the empty sidewalk. She was already gone, the sidewalk empty of bright pink running shoes and a far too tired dog. For the second time that night, his eyes returned to the illuminated windows. This time, he wondered if one of those lights had beckoned her home as well.

Chapter 2: The Jungle

Chapter Text

Violet Harris was not a morning person. If she had it her way, it would be a federal crime to have to wake up before sunrise; a mandated article in which all would have to follow. She would be able to snuggle down into her bed until long after the sun rose without disturbance. But alas, she was not a lawmaker, and the world began before daybreak whether she was ready for it or not.

She awoke that morning like any other; with Sadie hovering over her, breathing her hot breath into her face and kissing her nose, her paws finding every sensitive point of her body as she crawled atop her. Violet lifted a hand to block the dog, squinting at the chrono perched on her bedside table, the red numbers glowing back a dismal 5:55am. She sighed, giving Sadie a scratch behind the ears.

“I have five more minutes, you know,” she said, the dog tilting her head at the woman’s words.

She chuckled, rubbing her eyes before throwing off her covers. Sadie jumped down, prancing over to the bedroom door, pacing with an expectant whine. Violet rose, fumbling around in the still too-dark room for the leggings and sweater she had set out the night before. She had always found it quite comical how her dog was a morning ‘person’, while she tragically was not. She had taken Sadie on a run at six in the morning once and the pup had never let it go, waking Violet up with a frenzy of wet kisses and whines every morning since, despite her best efforts to bargain with her for a later wake up time.

Sadie continued to pace, turning herself in a circle before leaning into a deep stretch, baring her teeth in a wide, squeaking yawn. Violet pulled her sweater over her head, yanking up the half zipper before crossing the room and opening the bedroom door. The dog slipped through the crack in the door before Violet could fully open it, racing across the darkened apartment towards the front door and jumping up to snatch her lead from the hook beside it. She carried it back to Violet, dropping it at her feet and sitting in front of her, tail beating loudly against the floor. Violet chuckled, shaking her head at the dog as she combed her fingers through the knots in her hair left there by her pillow.

“Be patient. We’ll go in a second,” she scolded the dog playfully, her words muffled by the elastic she had tucked between her teeth, gathering her hair into a ponytail.

She let out an annoyed huff at the wispy fringe of her bangs drooped into her eyes- the impulsive request she had made at the salon a few weeks prior in hopes to refresh her look before starting at her new position becoming a quick regret she had come to kick herself over. She groaned as she adjusted them in her reflection in the window of her apartment, desperately attempting to smooth her sleep fussed hair before giving up, her eyes focusing beyond her reflection.

Tchakova Park lay below her, the misty morning fog that had settled over the park laying heavy over the empty walking paths that twisted through it, dappled with the rain that had rolled in during the night. She groaned again, watching the pond ripple with rainfall, the waters dark and murky. She could already picture Sadie’s muddy paw prints decorating her clean floors when they returned. A sense of contentment came over her as she watched the pond, finding the two mottled geese sliding across the surface side by side. The corner of her mouth tugged up into a half grin. At least someone was enjoying the rain.

She scooped up Sadie’s lead, “C’mon, Sades.”

The street lamps were still on when they arrived at the park, casting a glow on the wet pavement. Violet had let Sadie off her lead when they arrived, finding that they were the only patrons at the early hour. Sadie ran beside her, keeping her pace as Violet jogged. As much as she despised the early hour, she enjoyed this part of her day; the feeling of her feet pounding against the concrete, her bangs plastered to her forehead with a mixture of sweat and rain, the delicious ache in her muscles, her body warm and heavy. She kept her eyes forward, focusing on the array of blooms around her that glimmered with rain.

She had only been back on Reach for a few months, but had been firmly reminded why springtime on the planet would remain to be her favorite time of the year. Hands down. Without a doubt. No exceptions. It was far more mild than what she had been accustomed to at her previous station; the base on the red dirt planet knew nothing but blistering temperatures throughout the entire year. It had lacked the same color that seemed to burst from the city; that she found in the blooms and foliage that climbed over every surface of the park. Her new coworkers would proudly announce that she would get all four seasons on Reach, forgetting quickly all the times she had mentioned growing up within the city. But, she wasn’t sure she was ready to let springtime slip away quite yet.

Her music blared into her ears as she ran, keeping a pace to match the tempo of the loud, buoyant club playlist she had selected that morning. Sadie wandered ahead, caught on the scent of whatever critters lived in the shrubs that flanked the paths around the pond, coming to a complete stop as she sniffed persistently, her nose pressed to the pavement. Violet slowed her pace as she approached the sodden dog, her breathing heavy. She bent over, hand pressed to her knees, allowing herself a moment to catch her breath before she finished her run and returned to the apartment, removing an earbud. From the pond, a goose honked, Sadie’s ears shooting up before she erupted into a series of barks, racing towards the pond to say hello to the animals that wanted so little to do with her.

Violet watched Sadie run, hoping that the extra expenditure of energy would keep the pup satiated enough to refrain from destroying another pair of her shoes while she was at work. Her eyes caught on the bench beside the pond, the shadow of a figure cloaked in fog seated upon it. A bubble of excitement swelled in her belly, Violet straightening up to get a better look at the figure on the bench, a hopeful feeling washing through her. She hadn’t seen John in the park since their brief interaction two weeks prior. She had seen him on occasion prior to nearly hitting him with Sadie’s ball; always alone. She had hoped to run into him again, but he had seemingly disappeared. She had liked talking to him, despite embarrassing herself with her dumb bird fact that she couldn’t keep from popping out of her mouth. She had a tendency to speak too quickly when she was nervous, which usually led to her embarrassing herself. She had found him handsome and shy ; something she didn’t expect from the positively massive man.

She jogged towards the pond, calling Sadie back to her. The dog let out a final bark, the geese flapping their wings with annoyed honks at the meddlesome dog. Sadie bounded up to her, plopping beside her. Violet leaned down, hooking her lead to her harness. The figure rose, turning towards her, her stomach fluttering as it neared. From the fog, an old woman emerged, a disapproving scowl on her wrinkled face.

“Your dog needs to be on a leash,” the woman called to her, Violet’s heart sinking, “Park rules.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Violet replied, offering an apologetic smile, “Sorry.”

The old woman harrumphed, passing Violet by. Sadie co*cked her head at Violet, who shrugged in return before straightening up. She glanced at the geese once more, signaling Sadie with a low whistle before resuming their run, hoping that a different figure would appear on that bench during the dog’s afternoon walk.

“Doctor Harris to Lab 3. Doctor Harris to Lab 3.”

Violet perked up at the sound of her name over the PA system. She still hadn’t grown quite accustomed to hearing her name spoken that way. Sure, she had been a doctor of botany for a few years now, but still struggled with the formality of it. ‘Please ,’ she would joke, ‘Doctor Harris is my father.’ It didn’t seem to have the effect she had hoped for since starting as the head of the department. Always Doctor Harris, never Violet.

She gathered her pad, stepping out into the sterile white hallway that separated her office from the labs. A biologist passed, nodding politely in acknowledgement towards her, “Doctor.”

She hated being the new girl at work. She especially hated being the new boss. The previous head of the department retired earlier in the year; a stiff, no-nonsense woman with a particular need for order that was expected of a UNSC official. Violet had been promoted from an off planet division to head up the department nearly two months ago. She had been thrilled by the opportunity to lead her own group of researchers, but the interactions with the scientists she had been placed in charge of were far too stiff, too polite and too formal in the weeks she had been there. She missed her previous station; the ease of working alongside the botanists and biologists she knew well and with the villagers nearby.

She approached the door to the lab, placing a palm against the access scanner, the automated female voice greeting her by name. She perched her datapad on her hip, tugging at the heavily starched lab coat she was required to wear. The uniform had been an adjustment as well- her old station was much more relaxed. She wore field clothes most days.

“Whatcha got for me, Lorelei?” she called to the fellow botanist hunched over a microscope.

The redheaded woman looked up from the slide, letting out an exasperated sigh. Violet discarded her pad on the tabletop beside her, offering the woman the same grimace she wore, “Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, actually,” Lorelei let out a heavy sigh, rubbing her eyes, “I’m finding an issue with one of the samples the field team brought back from Karpos Mountains.”

“Which sample?” Violet implored, gesturing for Lorelei to move so she could peer through the microscope.

“The rock dwelling algae found in the cave systems. It seems that the structure was damaged either during extraction or during transport. The sample won’t take the staining and it’s making it impossible to examine the cell structure.” she explained.

Violet lowered herself over the microscope, adjusting the focus slightly. She groaned when the sample came into focus, the patchy purple staining and crumpled cell structures confirming Lorelei's concerns.

“Damn it,” she groaned, straightening up. Her heart sank, “Was that the only sample taken? Or was a large sample taken?”

“That’s it.”

She sighed heavily, muttering a few curses under her breath. The sample had been a point of excitement from the team, brought back from an unexplored cave system to be researched and tested. She had hoped that the discovery would have been a triumph for the team, especially for the rookie field team who had been sent out to explore the system. Instead, it proved to be a headache that would result in extra paperwork and required training for the team on proper collection methods. She rubbed her face, peering through the lens once more at the far from perfect sample.

“Do what you can with it,” she said, “I’m picking up on some bacteria from the areas that did take the stain. Do your best to document your findings. I’m curious about that little patch of bacteria. Try to identify it and track its growth over the next few days. Send what you are able to find over to me.”

“Yes, Doctor Harris.”

She rolled her eyes, hoping the woman couldn’t see it from where she leaned over the microscope, “Violet, please.”

“Yes, Doctor… Violet.”

It was a step in the right direction, at least. Violet straightened up, collecting her pad and sliding the microscope back to Lorelei. The familiar beep of the PA system sounded again, Violet’s shoulders tensing as she hoped there were no other issues with the other specimens collected by the field team.

“Brokkr teams to your stations for dismounting. Brokkr teams to your stations for dismounting.”

“And so,” Lorelei murmured lowly, “The Gods return to Olympus.”

Violet made a face, “What do you mean by that?”

Lorelei looked up from the microscope, giving the other woman a befuddled look, “Spartans are returning to base? You’ve been here for two months, haven’t you heard the calls before?”

“I have,” she stated, watching Lorelei return to the microscope after scribbling something down on her pad, “I guess I just didn’t give it much of a thought.”

“The brass likes to make a big deal about them returning. Something about keeping up morale, I guess.”

“How long have they been off world?”

“Two weeks,” she gave a shrug, as if proud she carried the crumb of information, “My boyfriend works in the Spartan Research Division.”

Violet gave a nod, unsure of how to respond. “You must be very proud,” she settled with.

She had minimal experience with Spartans, having yet to encounter the teams based out of FLEETCOM. It didn’t surprise her, there was no real reason for a botanist to encounter a genetically enhanced super soldier on a regular basis. She had seen them occasionally at her previous base when teams would pass through on mission, but most of her experience with Spartans existed solely in the few glimpses she caught of footage on them in battle during vidscreen news broadcasts or during her previous teammates hours spent playing Spartan Attack in the meager rec room. She assumed Lorelei's assessment of them wasn’t too far off; gods among men.

“It must be exciting, don’t you think?” Lorelei pondered, “All of that action?”

“More exciting than rock dwelling plants? I could hardly be- leaf it,” she joked with a smile.

Lorelei stared blankly back at her, Violet’s smile sinking as a tense silence grew between the two.

“Okay… well,” she sighed, “I’m going to go examine a few propagations from the greenhouses. Shouldn’t be too long. Give me a shout if you have any other issue, and send those notes over when you have them.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Violet,” she grumbled under her breath, stepping out of the laboratory and into the hall.

The greenhouses had to be her favorite part of her new position. The polycarbonate structures sat on the far side of the base, arranged in a neat row of five unassuming buildings. Each one had been carefully crafted by teams to sustain plant life from across the galaxy, each managed by a team of horticulturists with painstaking care. Working within them had been the dream of every doctoral student she had attended school with.

She entered her favorite; Greenhouse #5. Thick rain slapped against the panes overhead as she stepped into the heavy, sticky warmth of the greenhouse. She shrugged off her lab coat and hung it on the series of hooks by the entrance, unneeding of the additional layer in the now humid climate. Greenhouse #5 was affectionately nicknamed ‘The Jungle’ by the botanists in the department, the building filled with a variety of tropical plants; some flowering, some fruit bearing. A few manufactured ponds sat throughout, shaded by twisting trees and scattered with lilies, lotus, and hyacinths. She had adored the manufactured ecosystem since she had toured it on her first day, finding any reason to spend the rest of that day in there until her hair frizzed up and uniform was stained with earth. She had returned home that evening with soil under her fingernails, a full heart, and a pile of dry cleaning.

She meandered down the stone paths, running her hands along the smooth flat leaves of a banana tree as she passed. A group of low ranking horticulturists nodded to her from where they struggled repotting a rather volatile plant. The basketball sized purple blooms writhed on skinny, hairy stems, snapping at the team. Violet recognized the plant as a carnivorous specimen brought back from deep in the jungles of an alien moon, its venom proving to be a rather proficient pain management agent they were working to process for hospital use.

“You’ll have more luck if you feed her first,” she called, taking a trimming from a species of fern that had been collected by a field team earlier in the week. She tucked it into a glass vial, securing the lid tightly before tucking it into her bag, “She’s a lot more docile when she’s full. There’s a tank of stag beetles in the workroom. Two or three should do the trick.”

A baby-faced man nodded, ducking to avoid a swinging bloom, “Thank you, Doctor.”

Violet nodded in acknowledgement, continuing down the path to where the propagations were kept on shelves in the back of the Jungle. Several clippings, ranging from four inches to four feet, suspended in glass vases and vials of various sizes. Root systems floated in the water below the surface, curling and twisting as they grew and developed. She reviewed the propagations, making notes of their growth and measurements on her pad before tucking it into her bag.

With a contented hum, she departed the greenhouse, taking her time on the journey back to the door from the back of the Jungle. She raised a hand in a silent wave to the horticulturists, now hand feeding the plant live beetles with a pair of forceps. She sighed as the rain continued to slap against the roof, already dreading the cold walk back to the main building. She glanced up at the chrono, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand; her observations had taken her less time than expected. Maybe she would stop by the mess for a cup of coffee; if they could call the sh*tty, overly burned sludge they managed to put in a paper cup coffee, that is.

Violet pressed her back to the wall of the lift, leaning against it as she scanned over Lorelai’s findings. She flipped through the documentation and annotated images she had received, sipping from the offensively bitter coffee she had grabbed from the mess. She wrinkled her nose. Even with a generous amount of cream and sugar, she couldn’t disguise the taste.

She balanced her pad against her forearm, zooming in on the handwritten annotation Lorelei had made beside the colony of bacteria she had seen on the slide, squinting at the younger woman’s messy script. She would have to ask her to decipher it when she got back to the labs. The lift slowed, the ding of the door indicating a stop. Violet shifted over to the side to accommodate the newcomer, bracing herself for the lurch of the lift continuing its descent to her level. The lift remained stalled, the familiar swoosh of shutting doors absent. Violet glanced up, wondering if the new passenger was holding the door for someone else. She caught a glimpse of the close shaved hair and scruffy cheeks before looking back down at her pad, realization crashing through her. She looked back up, finding that he was staring back at her with the same look of shock.

John from the park stood in the doorway of the lift, a soft smile spreading across his face as he watched her. She returned his smile, lowering her pad.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly.

He stepped into the lift, pressing the button for a different level before settling beside her, the two still silently considering the other.

“Hi,” he murmured back.

Her eyes dropped to the tight black suit he wore, searching for any designation to clue her in to his rank or role. But, her eyes only found a familiar eagle insignia emblazoned on the suit. Underneath the insignia was another patch: 117.

Recognition raced through her again, eyes widening as the puzzle pieces fell into place.

Holy. sh*t.

He was the John.

The birdwatcher in the park was the Master Chief. She nearly hit him with a ball. She told him a weird fact about birds.

She hoped her face didn’t betray her, expressing the levels of panic she went through in a matter of mere seconds. John continued to watch her silently, that smirk she had thought of for two weeks still splitting his face.

“Makes sense why I haven’t seen you back at the park now,” she said, gesturing to his suit.

“You were looking for me?”

She felt her cheeks grow hot, hoping that she hadn’t turned completely red. “Sadie was,” she said quickly, “I think you changed her life with that one throw. I’ve gotten nothing but dissatisfied looks from her since then. Like ‘really, Mom? That’s the best you’ve got?’ It’s pitiful, really.”

He chuckled; the low rumble she had heard at the park weeks ago, “I’m sure you do a fine job.”

Violet smiled, pulling her eyes from his. They stood in silence for a moment, the mechanical whirr of the lift filling the space. She rocked onto her heels, stealing another quick glance at the much taller man. He must have sensed her looking, looking down to meet her stare. She dropped her eyes, the two sharing a soft, uncomfortable chuckle before falling into silence once more. Her belly fluttered, warmth crawling up her neck once more.

“Your friends came back,” she said.

“What?”

“The geese,” she clarified, smiling up at him, “They came back. I figured you’d like to know; in case you go back.”

Jesus, Violet, she thought, enough with the birds.

He gave a nod, the door dinging as they arrived at his floor. She felt a tinge of disappointment as the doors slid open. John stepped off the lift at his floor wordlessly, Violet returning her eyes to her datapad. He lingered in the doorway for a moment, his head slightly co*cked as if he were straining to hear someone’s whisper. Violet watched from under her lashes as he turned back to the open doors.

“Hey, are you-?”

“I walk Sadie around 5:30 every evening. I’ll be at the park tonight, if that’s what you wanted to ask.”

The smirk returned, John nodding. He turned again, starting down the hallway.

“Hey John?” she called.

He turned again, that same smirk lifting his lips, “Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re back,” she smiled, the lift doors sliding closed.

Chapter 3: Goose

Chapter Text

The rain had continued into the evening, cold and thick as it fell. The dreary weather had seemingly deterred the citizens of Reach from utilizing the park, John finding himself alone by the pond. Occasionally, a citizen or two would pass under umbrellas turned against the drizzle, marching towards their destinations. The lack of life left the park hauntingly silent, save for the soft rustle of wind through the surrounding foliage and patter of raindrops. His head was still heavy with the sounds of the last deployment; weighed down by the constant noise of gunfire and the grunts of dying Sangheili. The gentle natural rhythm around him was calming, soothing, cleansing as he listened.

He counted the lights that started to illuminate on the water, glancing over his shoulder at the open grass that remained empty. He brought his focus back to the lights of the apartment buildings over the water, checking his watch. 5:45 rolled by, finding himself still alone by the pond. Perhaps the dreary weather had deterred her as well. He felt foolish as he stood there, the rain biting at his skin through his soaked civvies.

He turned at the sound of a dog’s bark, finding the border collie bounding across the field to him, bright orange ball gripped in her mouth. Sadie ran to him, dropping her ball at his feet and jumping up onto him, her wet paws pressed against his legs as she barked happily at him.

“Hey Sadie,” he greeted her.

She threw herself down at his feet, rolling over and showing him her white belly, tail pounding against the ground. John chuckled, crouching down and scratching the dog’s belly.

“Sadie, you’re such a pest,” she sighed.

Familiar sneakers stepped beside the dog, the electric pink speckled with mud. John looked up, finding Violet standing above him, the hood of her rain slicker pulled up over her head. She had let her hair down since he had seen her in the lift, no longer twisted into the tight regulation bun, instead tumbling out of the hood of her jacket, twisting and curling slightly in the rain. He felt a twist in his belly that he couldn’t quite identify when she smiled at him; that same warm smile from the first time they spoke that somehow felt brighter than the lights reflected on the pond.

“Sorry, we got a later start today,” she explained, brushing away the strand of wet hair that stuck to her cheeks, “ Someone ate a pair of shoes while I was at work instead of chewing on her perfectly good toys, so I had to pick that up. I won’t name names, though, but it definitely rhymes with Bradie.”

Sadie nudged her ball towards John’s feet with a high while, her rear wiggling. He scooped up the wet ball, giving the pup a scratch between her ears. Sadie responded with a series of licks to his hands as if she were greeting an old friend.

“I told you, she’s been looking for you,” Violet said.

John looked back up to where she stood, hugging herself against the soggy weather. Sadie took his moment of distraction to strike, peppering his face with a furious frenzy of wet licks. Violet let out a snicker, apologizing profusely as he pinched his eyes shut tightly, turning his head in hopes to twist out of her licking range with little luck. She reacted down, giving the dog a gentle push back, but Sadie lurched back forward towards her new friend and continued to lick his face happily, “It’s nice to see you too, girl.”

He scooped the ball out of the damp grass, holding it up to Violet. Sadie leapt up like an errant spring, barking at him. “May I?” he asked.

Violet gestured towards the empty grass field, tucking her hand back into the fold of her arms, “I think she’d be offended if you didn’t.”

He gave the ball a toss, Sadie trailing after it in a spray of rainwater and mud. The ball touched down on the opposite side of the field, the dog following it in a low, agile sprint. He brushed the splatter of cold mud from his pant legs, watching the dog on her determined race across the grass.

“Sorry for dragging you out here in such sh*tty weather,” she said earnestly, wiping the cold wet off of her cheek with the back of her hand, “It was really pretty up until a few days ago, and then it just started pouring. Bummer that you have such crummy weather on your first day back. How was your… trip?”

He shrugged, an unsure look on her face as she considered him, as if she were still determining if it were appropriate for her to ask. Sadie bounded up to him, ball gripped tightly in her mouth as she skidded to a stop, sitting in front of him. He bent down, holding out his hand for the dog, who instead dropped the ball on the ground beside his open palm. He shook his head, snatching the ball up and giving it another toss, Sadie bolting away in a streak of black and white, “It was,” he searched for a neutral enough word, “fine.”

“I’m assuming you can’t say much about it,” she acquiesced.

Rain collected on the edge of her hood, growing heavy and straining against the weight of itself. He felt the urge to wipe it away before it could drip onto her freckled nose. Instead, he tucked his hands into the pocket of his jacket, pulling his stare from the collection of freckles so vast he thought he could chart constellations in them.

“It’s classified.”

She nodded, following his stare to where Sadie approached the ball. She picked it up, giving it a few squeezes in her jaw before starting her run back to them. A silence fell between the two, John unsure of what to say. Violet shifted beside him, clearing her throat.

“You have been silent for 6.3 seconds, Chief. Humans can only handle 4 seconds of silence before they begin to experience feelings of discomfort or rejection. Talk to her!”

Sadie dropped the ball at his feet again, already starting to trot in the direction in which he had been throwing. He scooped it up again, tossing it several feet from where the dog ran towards, “I didn’t expect to see you at FLEETCOM,” he stated. Sadie skipped to a stop, paws sliding in the mud before snapping up the ball, “You don’t strike me as a marine.”

“I didn’t say insult her, John,” Cortana groaned, “Ask her questions about herself. Get to know her.”

Violet feigned a gasp, pressing a hand to her chest in faux offense, “You wound me, good sir.”

He looked over at Violet, the dark haired woman holding back a laugh at his bemused shake of the head. She dropped her hand, laughing that clear, high laugh, “You would be right though. I enlisted when I was 18, but really just to get my schooling paid for. Advanced degrees are painfully expensive for a girl who didn’t earn any scholarships. Who would have thought?”

“Yeah? In what?”

“Botany.”

The hollow feeling returned to his chest at the word, flashes of memory flooding his mind. The word had meant nothing to him a year ago; just another discipline in which the UNSC weaponized. But now, it carried the image of a plant lab projected in his HUD in the ruin of his childhood home, cloudy memories of his father calling him into the room to show him plants that seemed to grow by magic. He pushed those memories down, glancing back to Violet with an acknowledging nod.

She hugged herself again, “I spent the last four years on a dying planet in the outer colonies working to implement artificial forests and farmland,” she explained, “We taught the locals how to grow and sustain crops. It was a very, very modified version of what the UNSC tried to create with artificial ecosystems a few decades back. The hope was to teach the villagers how to provide for themselves so that they wouldn’t become reliant on insurgent groups."

“Sounds like important work.”

Sadie deposited the ball at his feet, panting heavily. He bent down again, the dog giving his brow an appreciative lick before he straightened back up, lifting his arm. Violet gave a little shrug, adjusting her weight on her hip and facing him again.

“It’s a tree- mendous job, but someone has to do it.”

He stopped mid-throw, giving her an incredulous look as the joke hit him. She smiled at him expectantly as if willing him to laugh, stifling a giggle. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, uncertainty lingering in the green.

“I believe she made a play on words. See, instead of saying ‘tremendous’, she used a domain specific word to her area of study-.”

“I got it, Cortana.”

“Oh, good.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at the pun. She laughed again; a pleasant, happy sound that tilted her head back, punctuated with a snort. He liked the sound of it, the noise lifting the corners of his mouth. “Wow,” he murmured.

Violet laughed, “Sorry, that was really bad. It usually kills with other botanists. Sometimes.”

“No, it was funny,” he assured her with a nod, “You’re funny.”

She dropped her eyes from his, her cheeks as pink as her sneakers as she brushed her hair out of her face again, tucking a wet strand behind her ear. Her eyes met his again, the uncertainty replaced with the same pleasant warmth that rang from her laughter, twisting that thing in his stomach he didn’t know how to identify. “Thank you.”

Sadie trotted back, her pace much slower as she neared John. She panted heavily as she dropped the ball, ears dropping with exhaustion before she flopped over, muddy paws pointed to the skies.

“I think I broke your dog,” he said with a chuckle.

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand, laughing, “You can break her whenever you would like. She’s going to sleep so well.”

Violet whistled, Sadie twisting upright and sitting beside the woman as Violet fastened her lead. His heart sank at the punctuating action, signaling the end of the evening.

“Offer to walk her home.”

He pointed across the pond in the direction of the transit station, “Could I walk you back to base?”

She shook her head, making a face as the collection of rainwater broke its tension on her hood and dripped into her face. She wiped her face, “I actually don’t live on base. Perks of being a lowly botanist; the powers-that-be really don’t care about keeping me close.”

She raised a hand, pointing in the opposite direction towards the apartment buildings that towered over the park. He followed her finger to a familiar white building freckled with balconies, the building he had been watching before she arrived.

“I’m that one, actually.”

“You didn’t have to carry her,” Violet laughed, “You’re going to spoil her.”

John shifted Sadie under his arm, the dog pressing herself against him with a happy groan. He had picked up the tired pup before they left the park after Sadie proved that she was not in the slightest bit interested in obeying Violet’s whistles, tucking the pup under an arm. Violet had apologized five times on the short walk from the park to her building for the dog’s behavior, John waving it off dismissively. He didn’t mind, and neither did Sadie, staring up at him with adoration in her heterochromatic eyes as Violet led them down the hallway from the lift to her apartment.

“This one is me,” she stopped halfway down the hallway, pointing towards the door brandishing D-43, smiling up at John as she leaned against her door. “It was really nice to see you. I’m sorry you got soaked, though,” she said, gesturing to his damp clothing.

He shrugged, “It was worth it.”

She dropped her eyes again, her cheeks turning that pretty pink.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said, kicking himself for how quickly the words left his mouth, adding, “If that’s alright with you.”

She nodded, smiling up at him with that smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

John returned her smile, nodding in return. A beat of silence passed between the two before Sadie scratched at the still closed door with a displeased whine, the pup’s thoughts of the park now replaced by her motivation to eat. Violet sighed at the dog, scanning her access card on the pad beside the door. The light flashed green, the lock rolling in the tumbler and she gave the door a push open, dropping the red lead and letting Sadie dart into the dark apartment.

“She probably wants dinner,” she explained as if in apology.

“I should let you get to it then,” he agreed, tucking his hands into his pockets. She didn’t move, instead continuing to look up at him wordlessly.

“Hold on one second, actually,” she said, holding up a finger.

He nodded, watching as she disappeared into the apartment. John peeked in the open doorway, a light flickering on somewhere beyond the entryway. On the far wall, he could make out a series of shelves covering the walls in the dark, adorned with plants in pots and vases of various sizes and a few frames. Sadie trotted out of an unseen room, her lead still trailing behind her. She stopped in the middle of the dim living room, shaking out her wet coat beside the sofa, her tags jingling as wet and mud went flying.

“Ugh, Sadie!” Violet groaned.

Violet reappeared, rain slicker gone, her gray long sleeve water stained by her hair. She padded back up the entryway, her sneakers leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind her. She held out a slip of paper to him, his fingers brushing against hers as he took it from her. He inspected the sage green square; her comm number written in neat, bulbous print on the notepaper, a cartoon houseplant printed in the corner.

“This way, we don’t have to stand in the rain to find one another,” she said with a shrug.

John tucked the paper into his pocket, hoping his wet clothing wouldn’t cause it to smudge.

“Not to worry, Chief. I have already programmed it into your contacts,” Cortana announced proudly.

Violet continued to watch him, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway. She missed the doorway, obviously miscalculating how close she thought she had stood to it, quickly correcting herself so that she leaned against it. A glimmer of embarrassment crossed her face, John smirking at her. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated. She lingered in the doorway for a moment, twisting her wet hair around a fist. He wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. “Goodnight,” she murmured, stepping into the apartment and pulling the door shut behind her.

“I like her.”

“Cortana. We’ve talked about this.”

“Right. Boundaries.”

John shook his head, retracing the path they had taken back to the lifts. He yanked the hood of his jacket back up as he stepped onto her street, the pavement glowing under the streetlamps as the last lights of the evening dissipated beyond the horizon. He crossed the street towards the park, keeping a quick pace towards the walking path that would lead him pack to the transit station, ready to rid himself of the cold, rain sodden clothing that had only started to feel uncomfortable in the minutes since he had left her door.

He crossed the street towards the park, keeping a quick pace towards the walking path that would lead him pack to the transit station, ready to rid himself of the cold, rain sodden clothing that had only started to feel uncomfortable in the minutes since he had left her door. He stopped on the sidewalk, glancing back at the building. He counted the windows on the fourth level, his eyes resting upon the window of her apartment. Inside, a light flickered on, bathing the window in warm light. He stood as if transfixed by it, watching for a few moments before turning and continuing through the park, the light of her apartment reflected on the smooth surface of the pond.

Vannak was a horrendous snorer.

John laid on his bunk, eyes fixed upon the ceiling. The other Spartan’s snores echoed off the walls, filling the barracks with the roaring noise. He lifted an arm, tucking it under his head, hair still slightly damp from the blisteringly hot shower he had taken upon returning from the park. The snores came to a conclusion, the room falling silent again, John closing his eyes in hopes to find the release of sleep that he had found so little of the last two weeks. He shuffled down on the familiar, firm mattress, Kai’s covers shifting as she turned over a few feet away. He sighed, allowing his body to relax.

The silence disappeared as quickly as it came, another snore ripping from Vannak’s bunk. His eyes opened again, an annoyed sigh whistling through his nose. He turned over, silently accepting that sleep was a mission he would be unable to accomplish that night. He reached to the shelf beside his bunk, fingers closing around the crumpled slip of paper he had peered at repeatedly since pulling it from his pocket that night. Her loopy handwriting stared back at him, the numbers slightly smudged, the cartoon face of the houseplant meeting his gaze with expressionless eyes.

He reached for his pad, tapping until an empty conversation thread appeared under her name.

“It is well past midnight, Chief,” Cortana warned, “I doubt you will get a response at this hour. I would recommend against contacting her tonight. Many dating experts recommend waiting at least two days before making first contact in order to not seem overly eager.”

117: Hey, goose girl.

117: It’s John.

117: From the park.

He dropped his pad onto his chest, fixing hi eyes on the ceiling. He sighed, running his hands across his face. The sound of an incoming message chimed mere moments later, John nearly throwing his pad across the room in the speed in which he sat up.

Violet Harris: Hey, John from the park. Gotta say, I don’t entirely hate goose girl.

Violet Harris: Thanks again for tiring out Sadie. She’s been asleep since you left. She did, however, expect to be carried to bed. So I think you owe me one for that.

117: Anytime. I guess I do.

Violet Harris: Shouldn’t you be asleep? I thought they kept you Spartans on a tight bedtime.

117: I could ask you the same thing.

Violet Harris: You’ve got me there, big guy. Guess I should turn in for the night. The plants won’t catalog themselves tomorrow, after all.

117: They certainly won’t.

117: It was nice to see you tonight. I had a nice time.

Violet Harris: :-) Me too. See you tomorrow maybe?

117: What is that?

Violet Harris: It’s a smiley face. People put it to show they’re happy.

117: Copy.

117: See you tomorrow.

117: :-)

Chapter 4: The Rock

Chapter Text

“How much longer do we have to be up here, Doctor? My ass is starting to hurt.”

Violet sat back in her harness, kicking off of the rock face with a foot, turning herself to face the grouping of young botanists hanging beside her. The field team responsible for the damaged sample from the Karpos Mountains were scattered across the rock, each working diligently to excavate and take samples from the cliff face. The fair haired botanist beside her looked over at her from where he dangled from his belay in front of a patch of gray-green lichen, collection scalpel gripped in a gloved hand. He watched her with an anticipatory look, the dark haired doctor raising a brow at his question as she turned back to the rock.

“That depends, Donaghy,” she said plainly, grunting as she pulled herself up the rock face so that she hovered over him. “Keep turning in compromised samples and you’ll find yourself sleeping up here. Now, show me again.”

He sighed, Violet watching as he gently gripped the lichen, inspecting it for a worthwhile section to sample. He selected a leaf, giving her a hopeful look, Violet approving his action with a nod of the head. He took the plant gently in one hand, slicing through it with the scalpel with the other, and gingerly placing it inside of a vial. He looked back to Violet, who nodded again.

“Good, tag it and take a root sample next. I want to see it when you are finished,” she instructed, starting her climb towards the next member of the team. Her foot slipped on the stone, sending a spray of crumbled rock down below, Violet swinging out over the floor of Greenhouse #2 fifty feet below.

The team’s horrendous f*ck up had resulted in a morning of hands on training. Each member of the team had spent the past three and a half hours suspended on one of the several, vast manufactured cliff faces that served as the interior of the greenhouse known to the department as the Rock, webbed and draped in a variety of rock-dwelling plants that spread across the surface. Violet found herself clipped into her own belay beside them as she checked their work to clear them to return to the field, field bag clipped around her waist as she corrected, instructed, and marked off on each of their clearance forms.

She didn’t necessarily mind the work; only the fact that it had to be done in the first place. Her previous colleagues had warned her about her new position and the lack of field work she would be subjected to, and they had been sorely right. The time spent on the wall had been the closest she had come to the work she loved the most in the few months she had been at FLEETCOM, Violet grateful for the feeling of stone under her fingertips and the ache in her muscles as she climbed, breathing in the earthy scent of disturbed soil.

The belay device above her whirred as she climbed, the ropes clipped to her harness feeding into the cylindrical brake system bolted into the top of the wall with each inch she ascended. She twisted her grip onto one hand, fingers grasping at a protrusion in the wall as she analyzed the surface for her next movement. Sweat beaded on her body, Violet feeling the trickle down her back, wiping it from her brow with the sleeve of the thin long sleeve she had changed out of her uniform into. She spotted the next natural handhold, just slightly out of grasp. She shifted, releasing a breath as she focused on the spot, summoning her strength and propelling herself upwards towards it. After a series of short, deliberate movements, she found herself over the next team member, the fine hairs that had escaped from her bun sticking to her neck.

The climb has served as a welcome distraction as well from the smiley face that had clouded her mind since the night before. She had flipped back and forth into their message thread on her pad, reading over the brief exchange over and over again, examining it as if it were some ancient, forgotten language she needed to decipher. She hadn’t been prepared to hear from him when the message vibrated her pad on her nightstand, throwing blue light into the darkened room. She had picked it up without much thought, expecting to see a reminder pop up regarding the upcoming training at the Rock the following morning. She had audibly gasped when she saw the three messages on her screen, lined up neatly, one after the other, her stomach falling into her ass as she paused the trashy dating reality show she had been mindlessly watching as Sadie snored beside her in bed. She had paced the floor of her bedroom after she responded, whispering curses under her breath at the use of the stupidly uncreative nickname she had used for him in response to ‘goose girl’. She had practically leapt onto the bed when his response came in, Sadie letting out a frustrated groan at the disruption to her sleep.

She had stared at the collection of punctuation that served as his final message of the night the following morning as she poured her coffee, still trying to make sense of the meaning. What had he meant by it? Had he meant anything by it? She had agonized over it all morning, typing out different messages and promptly deleting them as she found fault in every line she wrote out, chastising herself for allowing herself to act so childish. Besides, he was the Master Chief. And she was just… Violet. But the night before, as they stood in the rain, he had laughed at her jokes, he called her funny, he had walked her home and thrown the ball for her dog and had just been… John. Rain soaked and waiting for her beside the pond. And she had just been Violet.

The botanist below her cleared her throat, pulling Violet’s thoughts from John and back to the cliff side. She used her finger to lift the root system of the plant the young woman had gently pried from the crack in the rock it grew from, checking for external damage to the thin soil covered veins. “Good. Next time, try not to remove as much of the plant from the rock. It could go into shock and have a difficult time recovering. It could lead to us losing the whole plant.”

The young woman nodded, opening her mouth to respond. A different voice called Violet’s name; a deep husky voice booming up from the base of the wall that made her skin feel too tight.

“Doctor Harris!”

She twisted, one foot keeping her anchored to the wall as she looked down, finding John at the bottom of the wall in his black undersuit. Her stomach fluttered when he smiled up at her from where he stood, eyes following her as she swayed side to side, her toes pressed to the rock. He looked out of place among the various potted plants surrounding him; work tables full of seedlings and soil. She returned his smile, giving him a little wave, which he returned. She heard the team begin to whisper around her, eyes fixed upon the Spartan below.

“Holy sh*t, is that Master Chief?” Someone whispered. Violet looked up at the team, finding them all staring down as if they were watching a caged animal and not another human being. She rolled her eyes at the lack of decorum, clearing her throat.

“Alright,” she called out, ropes creaking as the five climbers turned to face her, “That’s enough for today. Thanks, everyone.”

A collection of relieved groans and grumbles about numb rear ends and legs sounded as they kicked off the wall, belay devices whining under the weight of their rappel down the wall. She remained on the wall, John smiling up at her from the ground below. The team watched him with wide eyes, whispering to one another as they detached themselves from their ropes and removed their harnesses, tossing them into the basket at the base of the wall haphazardly and slipping out of their soft climbing shoes, replacing them with their stiff uniform boots. John adopted a neutral expression as they passed, crossing his arms and nodding in response to the greetings of “Master Chief” given as the team made towards the exit, peeking over their shoulders with astonished glances.

Donaghy remained, jerking sharply at the carabiner that attached his harness to the belay device at the top of the wall. Violet watched as the clip slipped out of his hand, the brake drum of the device pulling the rope straight up the wall with a screech as it whizzed up towards her quickly.

She saw John’s neutral demeanor falter, taking a few helpless steps towards the wall, a hand reached up towards her as he shouted, “Watch out!”

Violet pushed off the wall, swinging away from where the clip cracked against the wall beside her and sent a shower of rock shards tumbling below. John covered his face with his outstretched arm to block himself from the sharp rock, Violet cursing as she watched the clip smack against the device at the top. She swung back towards the wall, bracing herself with her feet, heart pounding as she looked down to shoot a look at the young botanist. She found that Donaghy’s eyes were no longer on the wall, but on the Spartan across from him who’s own scowl made Violet’s look like a cheery grin. Donaghy sputtered, nervously looking between John and where Violet hung before calling up, “Sorry, Doctor Harris!”

She sighed, rubbing her chest where her heart still thundered. She waved the botanist on, Donaghy taking one final look at John before practically running to the exit. Violet looked up the remaining few meters to the top of the wall where the belay devices sat, tracking her path from her location on the wall to the top.

“Be down in a sec!” she called down. John looked up at her still, nodding.

She clambered up the wall to the errant hook, giving it a hard tug down and straining against the tension as she clipped it to her harness. She released the hand break that allowed her to descend from the top, a gentle whirring filling her ears as she kicked off the wall, rappelling down, down, down in great leaps.

“This is a surprise,” she called as her feet found the wall, steadying herself before pushing off again and releasing the hand brake, the rope whizzing through as she descended a few meters before applying the hand brake again. She regretted her choice of words instantly as she touched down again on the wall, Violet tucking her feet under herself and letting herself dangle about ten feet from the ground. He barely had to lift his chin to peer up at her, that same soft look from the park in his eyes as she added hurriedly, “A good surprise. Sorry about them. We don’t get many visitors out here.”

“I tried your office. They told me I might find you out here,” he explained, then adding quickly, “I sent you a message.”

She glanced to where her pad sat on the work bench below, untouched over the last several hours. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, “I’ve been up here all morning.”

He nodded, looking around him at the various cliff faces and plant life.

“I’ve lived on this base my entire life and have passed these buildings a couple hundred times. I had no idea all of this ,” he gestured with a finger in a sweeping motion around them, “was in here.”

“We botanists are a secretive bunch,” she shrugged, “Can’t let you Spartans have all the fun now, can we?”

He huffed out a laugh, a low throaty sound that made her skin prickle. “Guess not,” he agreed, still looking around the greenhouse, “The air feels thinner in here.”

“Because it is. The greenhouse was designed to simulate high elevation environments so we can study the plants that grow there in their ideal conditions,” she explained, kicking herself off the wall and allowing herself to swing absently. John tensed at the motion, taking a step towards the wall, a nervous expression on his face. She kicked off again, swinging back, his eyes following her, “So technically, we’re about 6500 meters above sea level without leaving the ground.”

Her feet touched down on the opposite side of the wall, John still watching her with an intensity as she swayed. His shoulders stiffened as she kicked off again, her foot slipping as she touched down, Violet curling her toes to correct herself before she could slam against the wall. She watched as the sharp line of his jaw set, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. She released the hand brake again, continuing her rappel down.

“Am I making you nervous?” she giggled, her feet finding the wall again a few feet above where he stood.

“I’ve already found at least 15 ways you can injure yourself up there.”

“Me?” she pressed a hand to her chest, John rolling his eyes, the shadow of a smirk lifting his mouth, “Hurt myself? Please, you insult me. I’m basically a pro at this thing. Watch.”

She leaned backward, allowing her weight to flip her over, watching an upside down John reach for her again, panic flickering in his eyes. She pressed her feet together against the rope, lifting an arm over her head in a showy motion. John shook his head, the panic replaced by amusem*nt as he chuckled at her. Violet grinned at him, suddenly very aware of how close her face was to his as she hung there.

“See? I’ve got it all under control,” she stated proudly.

The rope swung backward, bringing her back banging against the wall with a pained grunt. Her raised hand went to the back of her head, rubbing the place where it had collided with the rock. John laughed, grabbing the rope and pulling her away from the wall.

“Sure. Get down.”

“Okay,” she let out an exaggerated sigh as she righted herself, rappelling down the last few feet at his request. Her feet hit the greenhouse floor, the tension in his shoulders noticeably fading, “But not because you told me to.”

He rolled his eyes as she unclipped the second carabiner that hooked her harness to Donaghy’s rouge rope and held it out to John, “Can you hold this while I unclip? Be careful,” she commented, John taking the clip from her hand as she looked down to undo her own, “It has a bit of a pull.”

She unclipped her own rope, fighting the sharp tug upward that came as soon as it left her harness, looking up at John. He held his own rope as if it were a balloon string, unbothered by the upward tension as he watched her, now embarrassed by her own struggle with her rope. She pointed towards the anchor hooks at the base of the wall, giving a hard tug toward to create a bit of slack as she secured it to the wall. John replicated her motions with an astounding ease, wiping the chalky dust that had transferred onto his hands on the leg of his black undersuit.

She busied herself with loosening her harness, John’s eyes roaming over the greenhouse again with a wonder she had never expected to see in the eyes of a Spartan. “Are they all like this?” He asked.

“This one is the only one with climbable walls. You should come out for a tour sometime,” she tossed her harness into the basket with the others, wiping her hands on her pants, “They’re actually pretty neat.”

“I might have to take you up on that,” he said, peering up the wall. “I assume you have a favorite out of all of these? Or does a botanist not have a favorite plant?”

“Oh, we surely do. Well, my favorite that we do have would have to be the giant ferns in Greenhouse #1,” she explained, “But we actually don’t have my favorite plant here.”

“Yeah? What would that be?”

She hoped the giddy smile that split her face at the mention of her favorite plant didn’t come off as off-putting as she took the few steps to the workbench her data pad rested on, snatching it off. She noticed his message as she unlocked it, sent two hours prior;

117: Hey goose. Was hoping to see you today. Busy later?

She tried her best not to blush at the nickname, flicking the message to the side and opening her digital catalogs, scrolling with a finger.

“I haven’t encountered one in the field, which makes it dumb that it’s my favorite, but I came across it during my studies and it’s just the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” she caught herself, swallowing hard to slow the increasingly quick cadence in which she had started speaking. She tapped at her pad until the image of a lily with large, silvery petals appeared, holding it out to John.

“There’s this flower, the lilium floraphos, that grows in low light environments deep within the rainforests of a few outer colony planets. They only get about two to three hours of direct sunlight at a time, so at some point in its evolution, it began to store energy from those few hours of sunlight within its cells and produce its own light to photosynthesize with. It’ll just open up and produce this silvery light until the plant has collected all of the energy it needs to sustain itself, and then close again until it finds itself in need again. There are records of explorers encountering them, believing they came across a fallen star.”

She gestured to the image as she spoke, John watching her fingers glide against the different parts of the plant. At some point in her rambling, he had placed his hand under her own that supported the pad, tilting it towards him so he could view the image better. His hand was warm and calloused under hers, covering hers entirely. She felt too hot in the air conditioned building.

“That was a painfully long, specific answer to your question,” she said sheepishly, brushing her bangs out of her eyes absently, embarrassingly aware of the thin layer of sweat that covered her whole body. “I can get a bit carried away. Sorry.”

She looked up, finding him still watching her with those soft eyes. He had just the faintest bit of brown in his green eyes, she noticed.

“Don’t be,” he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, Violet wondering if the lower oxygen levels had finally caught up to her when she found it difficult to breathe. “It was nice.”

Her pad chimed, both looking down at the message that illuminated her screen, Violet sighing as she read over Lorelei’s message requesting her presence back in the lab. John dropped his hand, Violet feeling a tinge of disappointment in the absence of its warmth, her skin tingling where his thumb had brushed over it. She tapped back a quick response to Lorelei, tucking her pad under an arm and looking up at John.

“I have to head back,” she said apologetically, John watching as she gathered her things.

“Can I walk you to the lifts?” He asked, falling into step with her as she moved towards the exit. Violet nodded wordlessly as they traveled the spice bush and wild hydrangea lined path to the exit. She peered out at the gray skies, rain bouncing off the pavement outside of the greenhouses in a thick sheet. She grabbed the large black umbrella she had found in her office from beside the door and undid the strap, John stepping beside her.

“Wanna share? I feel badly enough about how wet you got last night, I’d hate for you to catch a cold.”

“I can’t catch colds,” he stated.

She nodded, making an acknowledging sound at his comment, wishing she could sink straight into the ground. Of course they couldn’t, she thought. She raised the umbrella, opening it overhead as they stepped out of the greenhouse. She grimaced when the umbrella poked him in the back of the head with a surprised blink, muttering out an apology. His response was a brush of his fingers against hers as he took the umbrella, her body tingling as if his touch were a live wire. He positioned the umbrella over the two of them, the large umbrella looking like a child’s toy over him, “Here. I’ve got it.”

“Are you implying that I’m too short, big guy?” She joked.

“Your words, not mine.”

“I hate to have to break it to you, but I fear your height is not the target demographic of my umbrella. So if anyone’s height is a problem, I don’t think it’s mine.” She teased, John shaking his head as he grinned.

“Is that your official observation, Doctor?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Consider it observed, documented, and cataloged. I’ll be waiting for the Spartan Research Department to reach out for my findings.”

He chuckled again, Violet feeling the vibration of his body in the excruciating proximity. They stepped out in the rain, her shoulder clumsily bumping his elbow as she attempted to keep his much wider stride, the Spartan adjusting his step to keep beside her. She stepped to the side, trying to keep an appropriate distance under the average-human-sized umbrella, feeling the heat that radiated from his large body like a furnace. Rain drizzled down the side of her umbrella onto her shoulder that poked out into the elements. He glanced over, noticing the thick water stains that dappled her shoulder.

“You’re getting wet,” he said, his voice low.

She waved a dismissive hand, “Just a bit. It’s fine.”

He didn’t respond, instead his hand pressing against the curve of her waist, large and strong against her skin and he directed her towards him under the umbrella and out of the rain. Her head pressed against the hard muscle of his bicep, Violet feeling heat climb up her neck. His hand lingered on the small of her back for a moment, unsure and gentle, before it dropped to his side.

“Better?”

“Better,” she forced out breathlessly.

They walked the remaining distance to the lifts in silence, John keeping stride with her in what she was sure was a maddeningly slow pace for the man. At one point, they both opened their mouths to speak, their words tumbling over one another’s before they both let out an apprehensive chuckle, returning to the silence as they continued towards the lifts. John lowered the umbrella as they approached, handing it to her as they stood in front of the door.

“Are you...?” She pointed upwards in question, pressing the call button.

He shook his head, jerking a thumb behind him, “I’m this way, actually.”

She nodded, the two sharing a silent smile as the lift doors opened. She swallowed, her mouth feeling abnormally dry as she spoke.

“If you’re not busy tonight,” she began, the words flooding from her, “there’s a quartet playing at the amphitheater in the park I wanted to check out. I’ve heard them play from my apartment and would love to see them perform in person. Would you want to come?”

“I would.” His response came without hesitation.

Violet chewed her lip, biting back the grin that threatened to split her face as they lingered in front of the lift.

“Okay,” she managed, the lift doors sliding open to a group of officers all focused upon their datapad screens.

He gave her a nod, his own lips lifting into a small smile, “Okay.”

Violet tugged nervously at the hem of her jacket as she walked the path to the amphitheater. The persistent rain that had settled over Reach continued to drizzle on, dampening the curls she had quickly tamed her hair into upon returning home that evening. She regretted not wearing something with a hood, but the frantic pile she had left upon her bed had left her feeling as if she hated just about every article of clothing she owned. Her umbrella did little against the misty rain that hung over the park.

Sadie had nearly had a fit when Violet breezed through the apartment in a whirlwind of primping and changing, the pup waiting patiently by the door for her evening walk. It had taken a fair amount of treats and belly scratches to satiate the irate dog, especially at the mention of John’s name. Violet had been able to push past her as she slipped out of the apartment with a final adjustment of her hair in the mirror and a nervous sigh, her stomach twisting anxiously.

She had visited the small amphitheater on the far side of the park only a handful of times. It usually housed local musicians, all of which she could hear from her apartment if she left the balcony door open, their music carried in on the breeze like her own private concert. She checked the few posted directories as she watched, triple checking that she wasn’t headed in the wrong direction and leaving him waiting.

She turned the corner, fiddling nervously with her hair as John came into view, the hood of his jacket pulled over his head. He straightened up when he saw her, that soft smile lifting his mouth. She returned his smile, but it faltered as she looked beyond him, confusion washing over her as she saw the empty amphitheater.

“Where is everyone?” She asked, worrying that she had mistaken the date or time of the performance.

John gestured to the notice posted on the sidewalk, announcing the cancellation of all park activities under the reason of inclement weather. She let out a groan.

“Guess not everyone is willing to stand out in the rain,” she sighed, swapping the shoulder her umbrella rested on as she stepped in front of John.

“Guess not,” he repeated.

Disappointment bubbled in her chest as she glanced back at the amphitheater, the stone benches glistening with rainwater. An uncertainty came over her as she looked back at John, his eyes still fixed upon her from under his hood as he watched her patiently. She swallowed hard as her mind reeled, unwilling to leave the night there.

She pointed in the direction of her apartment, shrugging slightly. “We’re not too far from my place. I have a bottle of wine I’ve been meaning to open. We could just,” John watched her with that quiet, soft intensity that made her thoughts feel hazy as she searched for her next words, her hand falling to her side as she finished, “talk. Besides, I’m sure Sadie would love to see her new favorite person.”

He tilted his head in the way he had several times when they spoke, as if straining to hear a far away sound. She matched the action, offering him a soft smile.

“What is that?” She asked.

“What?”

She copied the motion again, a flicker of recognition in his eyes as if she caught him unprepared. His head straightened, his eyes returning to hers. “I’m just,” he paused, “thinking things through.”

She smirked, “And how do things look?”

“Perfect.”

She smiled, gesturing towards the path with a tilt of the head. “Let’s get out of the rain,” she said simply, the two stepping towards the path. John took the umbrella from her hand again, raising it above the both of them as they walked. He placed his hand against her waist, but unlike their walk from the greenhouse, she hadn’t felt the rain upon her shoulder before he gently guided her to his side.

Chapter 5: Picture Frames

Chapter Text

They walked together along the paths to her apartment, her shoulder pressed against him under the umbrella. Violet had apologized profusely since they met at the amphitheater for not checking the schedule and noticing the cancellation, and again for making him stand out in the rain, but he had told her he didn’t mind. It hadn’t been about the performance. He preferred the breathless enthusiasm to her tone as she spoke, the way she gestured with her hands wildly as she explained the contents of the greenhouses that sat on base to the sound of any quartet. She adjusted her hair as they walked, pulling it over her shoulder, John able to smell the sweetness of her shampoo.

“So, you’re telling me that FLEETCOM has a greenhouse with two swimmable pools full of plants on base and this is the first I’ve heard of it?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, looking up at him, “Freshwater and saltwater. I had to get scuba certified when I started.”

“What other secrets are you botanists keeping?”

“That’s classified,” she teased, gently bumping her shoulder against his side.

John laughed. She laughed more than anyone he had me before; a free sound that bubbled from her. “Is that so?”

“I’m afraid so. I guess I could tell you about the water slides into the pools, though.”

“Seriously?”

“No,” she laughed, her shoulder pulling away from where it had been pressed to him, “I’m f*cking with you.”

She had fallen out of step behind him, John worried that he had not slowed his pace enough for her, having noticed that she took three steps to one of his. He stopped, turning to find her bending down to gingerly pick up a white blossom that had been dislodged from the flowering vines that twisted up the trees by the wind. She inspected it as she turned it over in her fingers, unminding of the rain that fell on her outside of the shelter of the umbrella, a gentle intensity to her expression as she looked over it as if handling something fragile and precious. She examined the stem before her eyes flicked up to see him watching her where he had stopped. She offered him a sheepish smile as she carefully tucked the flower in her bag, taking a few quick steps to where he stood waiting for her.

She stepped back under the umbrella, and John wanted to touch her waist again; to feel the gentle curve of her body under his fingers as he guided her near in the same way he had when they departed the amphitheater. She had seemed so like the blooms she carefully studied when he had first touched her; fragile and delicate under the weight of his heavy touch. But she had leaned into his touch, fears of her shattering under it like porcelain dissipating as her body brushed against the contours of his. She hadn’t pulled away at his touch under the datapad, nor tensed as his palm rested upon her back. She had just leaned in as she did now.

She kicked off her sneakers in the entryway as they entered her apartment, Sadie bounding right past her to John, whining with excitement. Her whole body wiggled as she greeted him, jumping up on his legs, tongue flailing wildly. Violet scoffed as she shrugged off her rain wet jacket, “Like I said; you’re her new favorite. I’ve never gotten a greeting like that.”

He chuckled as the dog began to slam her body against his legs, desperate for his attention. He relented, bending down to scratch the dog behind her ears. She licked his hands as he removed his boots and placed them beside Violet’s shoes that looked like a child’s plaything beside his own. There was something strangely intimate about it; her shoes beside his at the door, her jacket hanging on the hook above them. He shrugged off his own coat, placing it beside hers.

“Make yourself at home,” she called as she disappeared into the dark apartment, the bloom in hand. Sadie followed, presumably under the belief she was being fed. The lights flickered on, illuminating the surprisingly airy apartment. He followed her out of the entryway, which opened into the kitchen and living space filled with an eclectic mix of furniture, the shelves he had seen through her door the night before ahead of him. Violet stood before them, reaching for an empty jar on a higher shelf, stretched up onto her toes, the jar just out of her reach. He stepped behind her, plucking the round jar from the shelf and placing it in her hand. She gave him an appreciative smile, “I’m going to get this in some water. Be right back.”

She left him in front of the shelves, Sadie still at his feet. The dog’s tail thumped against the floor, watching him with her strange different colored eyes before yawning and following Violet to the kitchen. He turned back to the collection of various vases and vials, a chaotic version of the neat rows of shelves he had seen in his childhood home. Leafy vines twisted and draped over the shelves, casting shadows on the various frames of different colors and sizes scattered between them. He looked over the frames, all containing pictures of Violet with what he assumed were family and friends.

In some she was a child, others more recent. In one, Violet stood beside a woman dressed in white, wearing a long yellow dress, hair loosely curled and brushed over a shoulder in the picture. A tanned knee peeked out from the high slit of the sleeveless dress, Violet clutching a small bouquet of flowers and smiling brightly. He would have thought the woman beside her had been Violet’s clone if it hadn’t been for the other woman’s brown eyes and the sharply angled nose that didn’t belong to the botanist. A sister, perhaps.

In another, she stood between an older man and woman that he assumed were her parents due to their similar features. Violet shared the same dark hair as the woman beside her who he identified as her mother, the two women sharing the same scrunch of their nose as they smiled. She had the same green eyes of the balding, spectacled man beside her. His eyes fell upon the last frame, that hollow feeling returning at the sight of it; she was a child in the photograph, smiling up at the person taking the picture, her arms wrapped around the neck of a large brown dog. She was missing a front tooth, her hair pulled up into pigtails, round cheeks dusted with the same freckles she had in her adulthood. She had been no older than he was when he was taken. Envy twisted in his chest as he looked over the photograph, her toothless grin peering back at him as he looked over the fragments of her life; at her memories left immortalized in pictures. He wondered what it was like to have a wall of memories. A monument to self to revisit fondly as one pleased. A life lived without interruption. Instead, he was left with only fragments of memories that came to him in flickers that would leave him rooted to where he stood, fearing that if he kept moving the images of their faces would be lost again.

She returned to the shelves, Sadie pushing herself against John’s legs as he reached down to scratch her side. Violet placed the jar, now filled with water, on the shelf, gently sinking the stem of the bloom into it. Sadie let out a happy groan as he patted her side, nuzzling his shin.

“What’s so special about this one?”

She held the jar up, turning so that the light shone through the glass. She pointed to a small brown bump on the stem of the flower submerged under the surface, tapping a fingernail against the glass, “See that? That’s the node of the plant. If there is one intact on a cutting, it makes it easier to propagate it. Most of the plants on this shelf started out like this one.”

“Are you always saving stray plants?”

“Sometimes,” she shrugged, gently adjusting the bloom in the jar, “I guess I’ve just always loved the idea that with a little love and cultivation, this lost little thing can thrive and become something that sustains and heals and perseveres. Broken things deserve love, too.”

She adjusted the jar a final time before turning back to the kitchen, procuring a bottle from the counter and setting it upon the island that sat in the center of the kitchen. Sadie followed behind her, the dog plopping down on the kitchen floor, groaning as she laid down her head.

“What are we drinking?” he asked, glasses tinkling as she dug through her kitchen cabinets. She procured two bulbous glasses, setting them on the counter before opening a drawer and fishing through it until her fingers curled around a corkscrew.

“Oh, only the finest vintage from the year 2552,” she declared the current year in a joking tone, scraping the length of the bottleneck with the sharp edge of the corkscrew and slicing through the heavy black foil wrapper around the corked opening. She twisted it off, discarding it on the counter before twisting the curled metal into the spongy cork. She held the bottle out to him in a showy fashion over the island, a playful grin stretching her pink-painted lips. “This happens to be the most exquisite bottle of twelve dollar wine the grocery store on the corner has to offer. And there’s a dog on the label, so. No brainer. ”

“I didn’t realize I was being subjected to fine dining.”

She giggled, straining slightly as she uncorked the bottle with a pop. She filled the glasses before crossing back to where he stood, holding one out to him, “Only the best for our Master Chief.”

She looked past him at the frames he had turned back to in her absence, sipping from her glass. She lowered it, pointing with the same hand that held her glass to the assortment of moments captured in time, “Which one were you looking at?”

He grabbed a frame at random, unwilling to look at the picture of a young Violet again, and held it out to her. She looked down at the picture of herself with the couple, taking it from him.

“They look like you,” he stated.

“I would hope so,” she said with a gentle smile, “These are my parents. My dad,” she pointed to the spectacled man, “Bill. He’s an ornithologist. He oversaw the aviary at the city zoo until he retired last year.”

“Hence the goose facts.”

She laughed, “You have Bill to thank for that, unfortunately. I spent my childhood under a constant unload of bird facts; I guess they sunk in at some point.”

Her finger moved to the dark haired woman, her hair cut short at her chin unlike her daughter’s. “My mom, Jane. She was a school administrator. She substitutes on occasion now. And that’s my older sister, Katie,” she pointed to the picture of the woman in white.

“They look nice.”

“They are,” she replied, a fondness to her tone, “They’re absolutely insane, but they’re fun.”

He wondered if his had been fun, too.

“Are you close with your parents?” The question left her mouth with hesitation, an unsure look crossing her face as she sipped from her glass, as if she was unsure of her question. A heavy pause fell between them as he formulated his response, still looking down at the faces in the photograph; people with a history and names. Not just fleeting voices lost to his fractured memory.

“No,” they fell silent again. “I don’t remember them much. They died when I was a kid. I think it was just the three of us; my parents and I.”

He assumed it was the most mild way to put it, the blurry memories of that final night on Eridanus II flooding into his memory, John pushing them back before the panicked shouts of his boyhood could fill his head. Her eyes softened as she looked up at him. No one had ever looked at him like that before; hurt and sympathy in her expression. He didn’t know what to do with it, feeling like he did something wrong as her smile faltered. Her hand slipped into his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

He added quickly, “I had a dog. Her name was Ellie.”

Her eyes darted towards where Sadie slept on the kitchen floor, John feeling lighter as the shadow of her smile returned. “No wonder Sadie likes you so much. She knows you’re a dog person after all.”

“They were botanists, I think.”

“Oh, so they were, like, really cool,” she joked, emphasizing her words with a raise of a hand.

“I guess so.”

“Do you remember anything else about them?”

“No,” he sipped from his glass, a silent escape from the conversation, dropping his eyes from her gentle gaze. A thin fracture appeared in the glass, John relaxing the grip that had grown so tense around it before speaking again, “I’m still trying to figure it out.”

She smiled, nodding her head and clinking her glass against his before bringing it to her lips, “To figuring it out, big guy.” She took a long sip, placing the frame back on the shelf and giving it a long look before turning back to him.

“John?” His eyes fell to hers, finding her smiling up at him with that smile that made his chest feel too tight. Her hand still sat in his, soft against the rough calluses of his skin. “They seem nice, too.”

She squeezed his hand again, before letting her own drop to her side. They both sipped from their glasses, Sadie’s tags jingling in the kitchen as she scratched at an itch.

“Quite the view,” he gestured towards the large windows that served as the wall of the living space, finding himself taking the few steps from the shelves to them. The small balcony was a puzzle of planters and pots, filled with various seedlings and blooms that lifted their colorful heads to the rain. Beyond the balcony, he could make out the deep gray shapes of the park below, shrouded in the mist of the thick rain. He hadn’t seen the pond from this perspective, glowing purple in the dusky light, John wondering which dot of light on the water reflected where he stood.

“It makes the rent worth it, believe me,” she nodded, busying herself with twisting the cork back off of the twist of metal, tossing it into the sink. He watched her reflection in the window behind him, seizing the bottle from the island and crossing to the chestnut colored sofa, sinking into the leather. She took another long sip before topping off her own glass, “Are you hungry? I’d make dinner, but I have been putting off grocery shopping. Not that it would be anything spectacular if I had. We could order something.”

“I’m sure it would have beat out what I usually get at the mess,” he replied, moving to sit beside her. The sofa groaned over his weight, John tensing. The sofa settled under him as relief washed over him. She crossed a leg over the other, resting the base of her glass on her thigh. He leaned back cautiously.

“I fear the mess has tragically lowered your standards,” she laughed, “What do they even feed you guys to keep you looking like that? You should market your meal plans. The fitness junkies would lose their minds.”

“Nuts. Bolts,” the crinkle of her nose reappeared as she smiled, tucking her feet under herself on the couch. Her knee bumped against his own. He couldn’t help his own smile, “Microchips.”

She laughed; a throaty sound that tilted her head back, her hair tumbling over her shoulder, punctuated with a snort. Musical and joyful and raw.

“That usually doesn’t get a laugh,” he admitted.

“That’s too bad,” she giggled, “It’s funny.”

“Thank you.”

“She’s flirting with you,” Cortana chirped in a sing-song tone , “You should flirt back.”

“No she’s not. She’s just being…nice.”

“Oh, please. She has engaged in extended eye contact, along with other subtle flirtatious gestures, the entire evening. In the past two minutes, she has leaned in twice and her heart rate has increased. According to recent studies-.”

“Okay. Fine,” he practically snarled back. He thought of what to do next, of what to say, but found that he drew a blank, unable to draw on any aspect of the rigorous training his life had been devoted to. Violet sipped from her glass, tilting her head playfully to match his posture. He straightened himself, relenting to the A.I. “What do I do?”

“You can start by complimenting her. Find something about her appearance that you find visually pleasing.”

“You have nice teeth.” The words left his mouth quickly, John wishing he could pull them back the moment he spoke.

She made a surprised face, nose scrunching as she smiled slightly at him from over the rim of her glass, “Thank you?”

“Too specific?”

“Just a tad. Try this-.”

“I mean,” she tilted her head expectantly, sipping from her glass. “Your smile. I like your smile.”

“Much better. It seems that you are receiving a more positive response as well.”

A flush climbed up her neck, that feeling in his stomach returning as she dropped her eyes from his to the contents of her glass. Her bangs fell into her eyes, and he reached out, pushing it out of her eyes, fingertips grazing her cheek. He tucked the errant lock behind her ear, her hair soft and smooth as it passed through his fingertips. She didn’t recoil as his knuckles grazed her cheekbone, John mapping the soft skin of her face as he traced the line of her jaw. She just watched him with those same soft eyes that no one had ever looked at him with before, her lips parted in surprise as he held her chin in his fingers. She held his gaze, John memorizing the green of her eyes and the curve of her lips as if the memory of them would too fade away once he left her go.

“You should kiss her.”

“f*ck off, Cortana.”

“How nice. Are you going to kiss Violet with that mouth?”

He didn’t get the chance. Sadie, who had awoken and wandered into the living room to stare at John, stood next to the low coffee table, her tail wagging. The paddle-like tail whisked over the surface of the table, sweeping across the bottle of wine. Violet let out a small gasp, reaching to where it began to topple. He grabbed the bottle before it could topple over, up-righting it.

“Nice save,” she breathed. She stood, seizing the bottle and shooting an annoyed look at the dog, “I should put this on the counter before she destroys my carpet. Do you want another glass before I put it away?”

His eyes followed her to the kitchen, finding her cheeks were still bright pink as she wiggled the cork into the bottle’s opening. The chrono above her oven blinked back the late hour, John suddenly aware of how dark the skies had become outside of her windows.

“I should get back to base,” he called to her. Her smile faltered as she looked up, a flicker of disappointment in her green eyes. He found himself hesitating to stand, his legs too heavy. “It’s getting late,” he nodded, as if to convince himself rather than her.

She nodded, setting the corked bottle on the island as he stood. She glanced over her shoulder at the time, giving him an understanding nod as he stood. “I guess so. I’d hate to be the reason a Spartan misses their bedtime. I feel like there would be paperwork involved for me if you did.”

He chuckled, Violet walking him to her door. Sadie trotted behind, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she watched John put his boots on. “You’ll let me know when you make it home safe?” She asked from the doorway as he stepped into the hall. “Not that I think anyone is going to mess around with you, but it makes me feel better.”

He nodded, finding any excuse to not pry himself from where he stood in her doorway. She pushed up on her toes, hand pressed against his chest and brought her lips to his jaw, too short to reach his cheek. Her lips brushed against the stubble, gentle and soft, the kiss ending as quickly as it had happened as she lowered herself back down. Her hand lingered on his chest a moment longer before she smiled up at him softly, his skin tingling where her lips had brushed against it.

“Goodnight,” the word came out a whisper, Violet biting her lip before she stepped into her apartment. His hand came to his face as the door shut behind her, as if to hold the feeling there before it could vanish with her. He could hear a soft giggle beyond the door as it shut.

He walked back to the transit station with the ghost of her lips still pressed to his jaw, the sweet scent of her shampoo still lingering. Her first message arrived as he arrived back to base, sharing a terse nod with the officer that greeted him as he walked towards Silver Team’s bunk. Kai sat on her bunk as he entered, shaking out shower damp hair with a towel as she watched Riz and Vannak face off over the chess board. She looked over at John as he entered, jerking her head in the direction of his bunk.

“Your pad has been going off,” she said. John felt his pace quicken as he passed by his teammates, his thoughts one track as he moved towards where his pad sat on the small shelf. Kai tossed her towel at the foot of her bed, smoothing her wet hair back with her fingers, “Where have you been?”

“Out,” he muttered, seizing his pad, her name displayed on the screen lifting the corner of his mouth as he sat on his bed.

Kai continued to watch him, brow raised as if she expected more than his short answer. “Okay,” she said incredulously, “Good talk.”

Violet Harris: You forgot your jacket!

Violet Harris: Guess you just have to come back for dinner tomorrow to get it.

Violet Harris: Home safe?

117: I am. Guess so.

Violet Harris: It’s a date, then. :-)

117: :-)

117: It’s a date.

Chapter 6: Gold Visor, Brown Eyes

Chapter Text

Violet clutched her mug in one hand, tapping at her pad with the other at her desk in her small office. Lorelei had sent over her findings regarding the colony of bacteria found in the damaged Karpos sample when she arrived at the labs that morning; a gammaproteobacteria strain she had seen what felt like a thousand times before in samples collected in marine rainforests. She zoomed in on Lorelei’s handwritten notes, squinting as she attempted to determine if she was looking at an ‘m’ or a ‘rn’ in one of the collections of chicken-scratch Lorelei passed off as penmanship. She sighed, flicking the file to the side and sipping from her mug. Her first task of the morning had been setting up the coffee maker she had purchased for her office, unwilling to force down another vile cup from the mess. She was working on her third cup in as many hours since she arrived, yawning as she added yet another pod of creamer into the already lightly colored coffee.

She was certain she would need the constant stream of caffeine to get her through the day after the previous night. She had woken up with a dull headache from the wine, having finished the bottle after John left, her thoughts reeling from the moment they had shared on the couch. She had spent the night playing it over in her mind as she laid awake in bed, head spinning pleasantly, the ghost of his hand still on her face. Violet had given Sadie a long, stern talking to after closing the door. Sadie just stared up at her, ears twitching and tongue hanging out of her mouth as she stared up at her owner. She smacked a paw against her empty food dish when Violet had finished, sending the metal bowl clanging against the kitchen floor in demand for a second dinner. Violet’s search history as she laid in bed that night included topics such as ‘how to crate train dog’ and ‘dog kennels for sale near me’, the snoring pup earning several long, angry looks from Violet as the dog slept on her back, peacefully unaware of the massive co*ckblock she had been only a few hours earlier.

Violet checked her schedule as she sipped her coffee, determining if she had the time to squeeze in an extra long walk for the pup before John returned to her apartment that evening. Excitement fluttered in her chest at the thought of him returning to her place. Violet chastised herself for feeling like a teenager with a crush. You are thirty years old, damn it, she reminded herself, f*cking act like it. But her head had spun since he had left her apartment, the same spin following her into the next morning as she walked Sadie, dressed for work, and still spun as she rode the train to FLEETCOM. He had nearly kissed her. He might have if it hadn’t been for her dumb f*cking dog. And she would have let him. She couldn’t help but feel ridiculous. He was Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, after all. The poster boy of the UNSC. The best of them. A god amongst men, as Lorelei had put it. There was no reason that he should have an interest in her. But she hadn’t seen that in him. She just saw John as he sat on her couch with her, his hand on her face. The same John that had sent her a message shortly after she got up for Sadie’s walk to wish her a good morning and let her know that he was looking forward to seeing her. She couldn’t help but like that John.

She returned her attention to her pad, occupying her mind with clearing out her communications inbox. She read through a report from the biochemistry department regarding updates in their development of the pain management compound being tested with the venom of the carnivorous plant in The Jungle the horticulturists had named Audrey. She let out an annoyed sigh as she made note of their request for more venom samples from Audrey, wondering where she had left her pair of leather gloves that had been issued to her for interactions with the rather feisty carnifloria vorax. The beep of the PA system sounded, Violet half listening until a familiar call came through the speakers.

“Brokkr teams to your stations for mounting. Brokkr teams to your-.”

Her pad chimed as the call came through the PA system, John’s message confirming the sinking feeling in her stomach that had come with the announcement;

117: Have to cancel on dinner tonight. They’re sending us out.

Violet Harris: I heard. I understand- Any idea when you’ll be back?

117: Classified.

117: Sorry. I was looking forward to it.

Violet Harris: Don’t be! We can do it when you’re back. :-) Just focus on coming home in one piece, okay?

117: Always do, goose.

Violet Harris: Promise?

117: Promise.

117: I have to go.

117: :-)

Violet Harris: Be safe, big guy. See you soon.

She didn’t hear from him after that. She didn’t hear from him for days.

Her work days passed by slowly in a stream of endless reports, lab visits, and trips to the greenhouses. Those trips filled her with a silent solace as she walked through rows of lush green, occupying her hands and mind inside pots of soil. Each PA call prinkled the hairs on the back of her neck, Violet straightening to listen to each with an intrigue she hadn’t demonstrated over the past two months. The call she hoped for didn’t come. She would deflate and return to her work, pushing aside the ache in her belly until the next call came and John came racing back into her mind. Frankly, she thought of little else. By the third day he was gone, she had bitten her nails down to the quick, the nail beds of her thumbs bloodied and scabbed from near constant picking as she worked at her desk.

The rain relented to the early summer heat and sunshine that warmed her cheeks during Sadie’s walks in the days. Violet threw herself into a state of manic productivity the first few nights, hoping that constant movement and the satisfaction of completed tasks would chase away that sick feeling that sat heavy inside of her. The first night, she finished the book she had meant to start several months prior. She read through the night, finding herself only more exhausted in the morning. The second night brought the next book in the series. She busied herself with unpacking the last few boxes from her move back, filling her time after Sadie’s walks with endless tasks to distract herself from the worry that had taken root in her, rotting in her belly as the days went on.

She found herself thinking of him constantly. On the fourth night of his absence, she had gone out after work to the shopping center a few blocks from the park, out of tasks to complete in her home and legs aching from the extra time she had added to her runs. She had wandered through the few shops, perusing the collections of summer dresses that had been put out once the sunshine had returned. She was stopped in her tracks on the way home by the image of familiar green armor on a poster beside the restaurant she had picked up dinner from. Her shopping bags dangled loosely in her hand as she stared up at the recognizable gold visor that hid his brown-green eyes. Behind her, pedestrians continued to pass, talking and chatting happily behind her, their voices muffled. She continued to stare up at the poster, her dim sum dinner growing cold in the paper bag she held. It twisted something in her; worry and anxiety and concern. Not for Master Chief, but for the man within the armor. She knew the Spartan was damn well capable of completing the job, his lethality akin to mythology. But she stood there, staring up at the poster, allowing her thoughts to return to John. Wherever he was, she hoped he was safe and unharmed.

On the fifth night, she sat on her balcony with her book on her lap. Sadie laid stretched out on a warm spot on the floor, the late evening sunshine warming her fur. The evenings grew lighter as the days went on, the sunset casting its pinky glow across the park below her. Musicians returned to the amphitheater as the weather turned, Violet listening to the folky sounds of an acoustic guitar playing covers of songs she liked. She turned the page, adjusting the jacket she had thrown over her legs in the chill of the shade. Sadie sighed, stretching on her side before falling asleep again. Violet’s eyes strayed on the page of the third book of the series she had started only days prior, unable to focus on the words on the page. She looked up, tucking her cheek against her fist as she peered down at the pond. The geese sat on the surface as shadowy shapes in the dusky light.

The geese slid across the water, their heads bowed as if whispering to one another. Violet felt a tug in her belly as she reached for where her pad rested on the side table beside her mug of tea. She typed out a quick message before she stood, wrapping John’s jacket around her shoulders against the cool evening breeze;

Violet Harris : Hope you’re being safe. I miss you.

The morning of the seventh day came the same as the others. She woke with that same worry in her belly, rotting her from within as her concern for him grew. Violet had woken up too early for the first time in what felt like years, unable to will herself back to sleep. She decided to go for a run before Sadie woke up, the dog having no interest in waking before her usual 6am wake up call. Violet huffed out a laugh at the irony as she dressed herself, wandering out of her building to the paths of the still dark park. She turned up her music as loud as she could stand it, her playlist thumping in her head as her feet pounded against the pavement around the pond.

She ran until her muscles screamed for her to stop, gasping for breath as she stopped by the pond. The sun had begun to poke over the horizon, casting an orange glow over all things around. Violet wiped sweat from her brow as she caught her breath, her eyes falling on the geese that glided over the pond, starting their day side by side. She wondered if John was watching the same sunrise.

Violet found that work brought her little comfort as well. Each beep of the PA system made her heart race, hoping for the call for Brokkr teams to report for dismounting. But, the call seemingly never came, Violet finding herself growing more and more irritated by each call. A message from Lorelei pulled her from her office to the labs to sign off on authorizations, Violet grateful for some sort of task. As she entered Lab 3, Lorelei didn’t bother to look up from her microscope. The redhead simply held her pad out to Violet with the authorization forms ready to be signed.

“I’ve already filled them out,” she stated, adjusting the microscope when Violet took the pad, “I just need your signature.”

Violet scanned through the forms, double checking that everything was in order. She let out a relieved sign when she found that the forms had been typed out and not handwritten. She glided her finger across the bottom of the pad in her looping signature, setting in on the lab table beside Lorelei. The young woman didn’t so much as mutter out a thank you, Violet standing beside her. Violet recalled the fact the young woman had shared with her about her boyfriend’s assignment, doing her best to take on a casual disposition as she leaned against the counter.

“So,” she began. Lorelei didn’t look up, “You said your boyfriend works with the Spartans? I haven’t heard a lot of calls for teams this week. Any idea if any teams are out?”

Lorelei shrugged, eyes still fixed to the microscope, “I think he mentioned that Silver Team is deployed. He changes their status on the duty board.”

It wasn’t quite the tidbit of insider information Violet hoped for. She bit back a sigh, pushing herself off of the counter. Her schedule for the rest of the day was dismally empty, and she had no desire to return to a silent office. “I’m headed down to The Ponds,” she called as she left the lab, “If anyone comes looking for me, let them know.”

The Ponds sat inside of Greenhouse #1; two massive pools that resembled typical swimming pools until one came closer. Below the surface sat entire ecosystems of both freshwater and saltwater bodies. The greenhouse came in a partnership with the biology department, both pools containing species of aquatic life along with the plants that resided there. Violet assumed that The Ponds would be her best choice for the afternoon; her head underwater meant that she couldn’t hear the unending PA calls.

She chose Pond A; The Sea. The pool was filled with ocean life, clown fish wiggling past her face as she swam, darting through the bubbles of her respirator. She could hear little but the rhythmic hum of the current simulators and the hiss of her breath through the respirator. The school of orange fish wove through the water in a tight group, disappearing into a bright pink anemone. Violet smiled around the mouthpiece, maneuvering around a blue tang as she kicked her flippers down, propelling herself down to the forest of giant macrocystis kelp anchored to the faux-ocean floor. She wove through the tall stalks, hands gently running against them as she checked for any signs of abnormalities. Fish swam in and out of the kelp, the narrow blades swaying in the current. She paused for a moment, watching the silent world pass around her. A thresher shark passed below her, gently bumping her legs, unminding of the humans that were constantly in her habitat as she went on in search of a snack.

The warning chime of her respirator sounded, alerting her that her oxygen supply was running critically low. Violet pushed off the sandy bottom of the pool, swimming upwards towards the surface illuminated with artificial UV light. She broke the surface with a gasp, spitting out the mouthpiece, salty water clinging to her lips. A few horticulturists worked beside the pool, looking behind them to where Violet treaded water towards the steps out of the pool. One knelt down beside the pool, reaching out a hand to Violet, “Good dive, Doctor Harris?”

Violet nodded, taking his hand and pushing herself up out of the poolside. She sat on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water as she removed her flippers, setting them beside her.

“Those are shallow water plants,” she pointed at the surface of the clear waters to a patch of green, “They are positioned outside of any direct sunlight. They need to move up roughly, oh I don’t know, eight feet?”

The horticulturist nodded. Violet stood and peeled off her wet suit, removing her goggles, frowning as her fingers brushed against the indents in her skin left behind by them. She gave the stiff fabric a shake, sending a spray of water across the floor. “Actually, scratch that. Run a full water pH panel. I want to rule out issues with alkalinity before we move anything. You can send the results to my office when you’re finished.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Thanks, Nathan,” she responded, giving her soaked hair a squeeze as she made her way to the showers. Above head, the PA system called out a message, Violet finding herself straightening up to listen. The call she hoped for didn’t come, disappointment fluttering in her belly again.

“Hey, Nathan,” she called, the horticulturist pausing where he stood over a water sample collection kit. She pointed up towards the speaker over the workstations, “Were there any calls while I was under?”

“No, ma’am. Nothing that pertained to us.”

The disappointment returned as she made off towards the showers.

John rolled his shoulders as Silver Team walked the familiar hall from Brokkr removal to the lift, still sore from days spent in the suit. They had arrived on Reach less than a half hour ago, all of them exhausted and sore from the deployment. The mission had been a bust; they had spent more time in slipspace than they had with boots on the ground, the mission taking all of a day once they confirmed that the Covenant had already left the planet. The team followed behind him, grumbling about the mission as they walked.

“Bullsh*t is what it was,” Vannak stated, “All that time in slipspace and I didn’t get to kill sh*t. Waste of our damn time.”

“The least they could do is feed us before we have to debrief,” Riz tapped the call button of the lift, the doors dinging open. They stepped in, John stepping in after them and turning to face the door.

“It should be quick,” he reassured them.

He hoped the debrief would wrap up before she got off, John hoping to find Violet before she left for the evening. Her message had popped up on his HUD days prior, John reading over it at least a dozen times before asking Cortana to dismiss it. He wasn’t authorized to respond while deployed, but her words echoed through his mind as they hurled through space. I miss you. He had never been told that before. His absences were always greeted with debriefs and mission reports and directives on next orders. He missed her, too.

The lift came to a stop, the doors sliding open. His breath caught in his throat when he found Violet on the other side of the open door, her eyes glued to her pad. He felt that twist in his chest when she looked up from her pad, green eyes softening when she saw him, a soft sigh escaping her lips as if she had been holding her breath. A faint sunburn colored her cheeks, somehow revealing more freckles than he had thought possible, the faint lines of what looked like a pair of diving goggles ringing her face. Her face split into a grin, Violet’s steps quickening towards the open doors of the lift. He couldn’t help but feel the corners of his own mouth turn up at the sight of her. Her eyes widened as she got closer, noticing the rest of his team behind him. Her steps slowed, Violet straightening as she neared the lift. She stood at the doors, hugging her pad to her chest. “I can catch the next one,” she stated.

Kai spoke before he could, “Oh no, there’s room,” she said with a cheeky politeness that made his shoulders tense. “C’mon in.”

Violet nodded, mumbling out a thank you before stepping onto the lift, pressing the button for her floor. The doors slid shut, Violet turning her back to them so she faced the door. The lift fell silent, Violet’s eyes directly ahead, obviously unsure of what to do in the presence of his team. He looked down at her, her hair wet and pulled back tightly. She smelled like saltwater. He wanted to touch her, to hear her laugh and see those green eyes. He could feel their eyes on his back in the tense silence, resisting the urge to run his fingers down her spine and assure himself that she wasn’t just a figment of his exhaustion.

He relented to himself, pressing a hand to her back and Violet’s head twisted up to look at him, her eyes darting back at where Riz, Kai, and Vannak stood watching before returning to him, “Still on for tonight?”

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” she murmured, watching him with those green eyes that he had thought of since departing Reach. “You just got back. You’re not too tired?”

“No,” he whispered back, brushing his thumb against her back, desperate to feel her under his touch again. “I want to see you. It might be late. We’re headed up to debrief.”

She smiled up at him with that smile, nodding. “That’s fine. I’ll see you tonight.”

The doors slipped open, the speaker system announcing their arrival on her floor. Down the hall, a lab tech looked up from his pad, eyes locking on Violet as he approached the lift, “Doctor Harris?”

Violet pulled her eyes away from John at the mention of her name, the lab tech’s eyes widening as he approached the lift, finding his boss surrounded by four Spartans that watched her curiously. The lab tech cleared his throat, nodding to the four of them before turning back to Violet, holding out his pad, “The results of the pH culture you ordered from the saltwater tanks have come back with abnormalities, ma’am.”

“Oh yeah? Is there something fishy going on?”

She watched the lab tech with an expectant grin. John couldn’t help but roll his eyes as a laugh bubbled in his chest that he swallowed down. The lab tech stared back at her blankly, still holding out his pad to her.

“Should I send the results to your pad then?”

She sighed. “Yes.” She rolled her eyes and glanced up at John, tapping at her pad as the results popped up on her screen.

“C’mon, that was f*cking funny,” she mumbled to him. He chuckled as she stepped off the lift, following the lab tech down the hall. She glanced over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner, mouthing her goodbye and giving him a final soft smile. He had hoped that the smile he returned had been small enough, but the deafening silence that followed as the doors slid shut proved otherwise.

He straightened back up, feeling the eyes of his team on his back as the lift began to move again. The soft mechanical hum was the only noise that filled the small space. Behind him, someone shifted. Riz attempted to muffle a huff of laughter with a cough, Kai and Vannak sharing pointed looks with one another. John felt the back of his neck grow hot. Riz cleared her throat, stifling another laugh as Kai bumped her shoulder against hers. John sighed, closing his eyes.

“So,” Riz began, her tone even, “Is this one going to try to kill us, too? Or was that just specific to the last girlfriend?”

Kai and Vannak snorted out laughs at her question, John glaring at them all over his shoulder. “Not another word,” he growled.

“So, they get to meet her and I don’t? This is so unfair.”

“Shut up.”

The three settled with a series of hissed chuckles, the elevator falling silent again. John straightened, busying himself with watching the floor numbers illuminate as the lift climbed upwards. Behind him, Vannak chuckled, the low sound growing into a thunder of laughter.

“What?” he snarled, Vannak’s laughter continuing to grow.

“Nothing, Chief,” Vannak grinned at him, “Just thought you were into blondes.”

Chapter 7: First Aid

Chapter Text

John’s feet carried him from the transit station to the walking paths that lead to her apartment, the park busy again as the sun returned. Families gathered on the green grass of the field, children playing and laughing together on the banks of the pond. The noise of the park drowned out the heaviness he carried after each deployment, no matter how much action was seen. But as the sun dropped towards the horizon, warming his back as he walked, the heaviness felt lighter; it felt quieter. He didn’t find himself lingering in the same ways he usually did as he trailed the path to her apartment. He didn’t pause to count the lights on the water, nor to watch the geese glide across the pond. Musicians played in the amphitheater, the music carried on the breeze, mingling with the chatter of joggers passing by. His eyes stayed locked on the apartment window on the fourth floor of the white building, light flooding through the open windows of the balcony Sadie slept on.

Debrief had dragged on, feeling impossibly longer than usual. His eyes darted to the chrono more than they ever had before, counting down the minutes to the time she got off. He had left immediately once dismissed to shower and change, the team filtering into their barracks minutes after he did with knowing smirks when they saw him in his civvies. Cortana had chirped on the entire walk, chattering on as he walked off the lift to her door. He had made himself exceptionally clear with the A.I. that her interruptions would not be tolerated during his time with Violet as he walked over. It seemed as if she was using every second until he reached her door to get it all out of her system as he knocked on her door, his jaw clenched as she talked. And talked. And talked. Sadie howled from within the apartment to announce his arrival, her nails clicking against the wood floors as she ran up the entryway to the door. He could hear Violet’s voice above the barking inside as she attempted to correct the dog that scratched on the other side of the door.

“I wonder if she will kiss you at the door. It appeared from her body language that she was going to when she saw you on the lift. Until she saw the team, that is.”

“What did we talk about?” He muttered under his breath.

Cortana sighed, repeating back to him the clear expectation he had set with her on the train. “I know, I know; I don’t speak unless one of you is in imminent danger. I’ll just be here; pretending I don’t exist, enjoying watching you make a fool of yourself. Good luck flirting without me, ‘big guy’.”

He rolled his eyes at her use of Violet’s name for him, opening his mouth to snap back at the A.I. The sound of her lock turning interrupted him, her door opening quickly, John grunting out in surprise as Violet thudded against his chest. She threw her arms around his middle, her cheek pressed to his chest as she hugged him tightly. He tensed at the unexpected embrace, looking down at where she stood pressed against him. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her in the doorway.

“Hey, goose.”

“I was so worried,” she whispered against his chest. She released him from her surprisingly strong grasp, taking his hands in her own, looking over him as if inspecting him for any sign of harm, “and you’re not hurt?”

Her gentle inspection was unlike the med evals he was regularly subjected to; always cold and clinical, drenched in procedure. Her eyes scanned over him, full of concern and care as delicate as her touch. It was the first time he could remember someone seeing him after a deployment and worrying for his safety; not for the integrity of the suit or the success of the mission. His injuries were treated as deterrents to his performance and were treated swiftly. He looked over her; her hair now dry and tumbling over her shoulders, at the thin blue dress she wore that skimmed her body in a way her uniform didn’t. He’d take this over a med eval any day.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, Violet still scanning over him with the efficiency of a scientist, “We didn’t even see combat. A whole lot of space travel for nothing, really.”

She nodded, releasing his hands and stepping back, obviously satisfied. Sadie bounded out of the apartment into the hallway, jumping up on him excitedly. Violet grabbed her by the collar, tugging her down gently and directing her back through the open door. She waved John in, smiling up at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bombard you at the door,” she said sheepishly, “And I’m sorry about earlier on the lift. I hope I didn’t make things weird with your team. I just-.”

He caught her hand as she walked past him, Violet turning to look up at him. “I missed you, too.” he finished for her.

“Well aren’t you two just the cutest? Sorry, I’ll go away.”

He couldn’t tell if the pink that flooded across her cheeks was that pretty little blush, or the sunburn that painted her cheeks. She gave his hand a squeeze before letting it go, stepping towards the kitchen. Her apartment was filled with the aromatic smell of cooking vegetables and herbs, a far cry from the sh*tty MREs he had spent his week forcing down. Violet breezed into the kitchen, bare feet padding against the floors, the hem of the dress that hugged the curves of her waist swaying with her steps.

“Dinner won’t be ready for thirty minutes or so,” she called over her shoulder, “I wasn’t sure when you would get here.”

She moved through the kitchen, collecting a cutting board and knife from the block. He looked over the surfaces of the kitchen, messy and disorganized as she cooked, lacking the order his whole life had surrounded. It felt natural compared to the militant sterility he was accustomed to; lived in and worn. He leaned against the island, watching her rummage through the fridge, her skin glowing blue in the light. She procured the produce she searched for, tossing it onto the cutting board before twisting her hair up atop her head, exposing the smooth column of her neck.

“Can I help at all?” he asked, watching her turn to stir something on the stove. He doubted he would be of much help- every meal he had ever consumed had been prepared for him or came out of a box.

“Nope,” she responded, her back still turned to him. She tapped a spoon against the side of the pan before turning to face him, “You can go sit down. You’ve spent the whole week taking care of others, let me take care of you for a bit.”

“But I-.”

She pointed towards the couch, giving him an authoritative stare as she repeated herself, “Go sit down, John. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Violet smiled again as she stepped towards him and pressed her hands to her chest as she had done nights ago. She lifted herself onto her toes, pressing her lips to his jaw. He leaned into her lips; to the sweet, botanical smell of her shampoo and gentle kiss. She pulled away, hands still lingering on his chest. “Welcome home, big guy.”

She pointed towards the couch again as she passed him towards the balcony, Sadie’s tail thumping against the couch cushion she waited for him on. That word echoed through his mind; home. He lowered himself onto the couch, the springs creaking under him as Sadie leapt into his lap, rolling over and presenting her belly for scratches.

Violet stepped out onto the balcony, the hem of her dress fluttering around her shins in the breeze that carried in the sound of the musicians playing at the amphitheater; a guitarist, his voice garbled in the microphone by the distance. John watched her seize a pair of gardening shears to cut herbs from the hanging planters on the balcony, the setting sun casting her in a glow of gilded hues as she pushed herself up on her toes, mouthing the words to the song the guitarist played from beyond the balcony. Sadie sighed happily in his lap, resting her face on his arm to peer up at him. Home must feel something like this, he thought.

Sadie had begun to snore, her face still pointed up at John, ears twitching in her sleep. The dog let out a long sigh, pressing herself against his arm. An involuntary yawn slipped from his mouth as he sank back into the couch, the rhythmic snipping of her shears and faraway sound of the music filling the apartment. He felt himself relax as he leaned back into the cushions, relishing in his first bit of unoccupied time in the past week. Violet passed behind the couch on the way back to the kitchen, a hand sliding against his shoulders as she passed him. Each touch felt like the first, his skin tingling pleasantly under it. The sink turned on in the kitchen as she washed the clippings under the faucet.

“Why don’t you put your head back for a bit?” she called, “You look exhausted. I can wake you up when dinner is ready.”

“I have time to sleep later,” he argued back. Sadie tucked her nose between his shoulder and the back of the couch, “I haven’t seen you in a week.”

“Okay,” she called back with a skeptical tone, “You’re barely keeping your eyes open over there, but, hey. Your call.”

“I am not,” he protested, Violet snickering in the kitchen.

“Uh huh,” she laughed, the bell-like sound filling his head. “Let me guess; Spartans don’t nap?”

“Nope.”

“Sure,” she giggled, turning off the sink.

He rolled his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze through the open windows and weight of Sadie against him. His eyelids grew heavy. “Tell me about your week? Since I can’t tell you about mine.”

He listened to the repetitive sound of chopping from the kitchen, Violet’s knife tapping against the board. “Well,” she began, “Not much to tell… Oh! The night you left, I had to send someone down to The Jungle to get samples from Audrey- she’s, well it I guess, is this huge carnifloria vorax who is just a total dickhe*d. So, I sent down one of our new guys hoping that the horticulturists would train him on how to extract venom samples without getting bit. Well, they didn’t. She bit the sh*t out of his hand. He had to go to the med bay for stitches and antivenom, so I spent most of that afternoon filling out accident reports-.”

He was asleep before she finished her story, Sadie snoring against his side as he rested his head against the back of the sofa.

“f*ck!”

Her sharp gasp and the clatter of a knife against the counter pulled him from his dozing state. He was up from the couch and beside her in a matter of steps, the blanket that had been thrown over his lap falling to the floor as he stood. Sadie grunted out her disappointment as she slipped from his lap and followed him to the kitchen where she immediately laid back down. Violet’s fingers were wrapped in a paper towel, red blossoming across it. He took her hand, Violet smiling at him weakly, “I wasn’t paying attention and my hand slipped. It’s not too bad-.”

A soft gasp punctuated her words as he wrapped an arm around her waist, hoisting her up onto the counter of the island. He took her hand again, unwrapping the bloodied paper towel and examining the identical cuts that sliced across her fingers above her knuckles. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asked, ripping another paper towel off of the roll beside her.

“Really, John, it’s not that bad of a cut. I’m fine.”

Violet hissed out a breath as his fingers came into contact with the injury to replace the soiled towel with a fresh one, flinching slightly. He raised an eyebrow, “You were saying?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, John chuckling as she pointed towards the cabinet under the sink. He followed her finger, Sadie licking his cheek as he bent down to retrieve the white box where it was kept. Violet continued to protest as he pulled items from it, setting them beside her on the counter.

“I’m the one supposed to be taking care of you tonight, you know.” She reminded him, “I can handle this. You go back into the living room and relax.”

“I can’t relax if you’re hurt.”

He took her hand again, gently rubbing an antiseptic pad across the cut. Her lips pulled up into a soft smile as her protests ceased, instead watching him dress her wound silently. She turned her hand to allow him to apply bandages to the damaged fingers, revealing the smooth skin of her inner wrist. He noticed the small fern leaf inked into her skin there, running his thumb along the length of the tattoo.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her fingers found his, pressing her palm against his own. He could curl his fingers over the tips of her own, her hand feeling impossibly small in his own. She twisted her fingers into his, fitting them together like cogs in a machine. She brushed her thumb against the side of his hand, letting them rest in her lap.

His eyes followed their intertwined hands to her lap, the slit in her dress riding higher on her thigh than it had when she stood. From between the panels of pale blue fabric he could see the scar that marred the smooth skin of her thigh, as thick and raised as the ones that decorated his own body. It began just above her knee, trailing up her thigh and disappearing into her skirt.

She followed his stare, waving a dismissive hand, “Oh that old thing? I had a run in with a group of insurgents during my previous assignment. Boring story really; we had only been on-planet a few days, they wanted to make it known that they didn’t want us there. Long story short, I got caught in the middle of it trying to get the villagers out of there and got shot in the process. The bullet completely shattered my leg.”

“I don’t think I can picture you in a firefight,” he smirked, “Much less holding a weapon.”

“Hey, I’ve been told I’m pretty threatening with a pair of garden shears,” she said in mock protest, giving his shoulder a playful shove. He rolled his eyes at her quip, her fingers still wrapped in his. “It resulted in a ton of physical therapy and a titanium rod being screwed to my femur to hold it together for a few months while it healed up. The scar they left behind removing it was far worse than the one I got from the break.”

She ran her thumb over his own, “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

He shrugged, “It was a far better reason to get up than what I’m used to. How long was I asleep for?”

“Only about fifteen minutes or so,” she smirked, “You snore.”

“I do not.” he scoffed.

“You do,” she laughed, “You should hear yourself! It's horrendous, both you and Sadie going like that!

He chuckled, shaking his head as she giggled. His eyes fell to the scar again, following the path it cut up her leg into her skirt. John’s fingers brushed along the length of the scar, matching her same tenderness in her own touch. His hand brushed against her skirt, the panel of fabric falling to the side, exposing more of her to his touch. She jumped slightly as his fingers trailed up her leg, her eyes locked on his when he looked up from her scar.

“Did I hurt you?” He murmured, trying to place the heated way she looked up at him that made his skin feel too small. He liked it.

“No,” she whispered breathlessly, “it just… tickled.”

“Kiss her!”

“Cortana…”

“No, you’ve made me be quiet all night! Kiss her! Before I make you do it myself!”

He traced his fingers along the length of the scar again, Violet’s eyes following the motion of his touch. “Does it bother you?”

“Do yours?”

Her own fingers traced along the scars on his arms, some from battle, others souvenirs of his augmentations. She traced the length of the thick, old scar just below his elbows on his forearms, her touch featherlight as her fingers glided down his forearm into his hand. His fingers curled around hers as her bandaged hand traced the identical scar on his other arm. It took a moment for her question to meet his ears, John distracted by the feeling of her soft hands on his skin; her touch warm and tender as she examined the scars.

“No,” he murmured, watching her fingers glide down his forearm to a scar he had earned during a deployment years ago, giving it the same feathery touch as the others. She studied his skin with the same gentle intensity he had seen her examine her plants with, as if cataloging each one.

“How old were you?” she asked, John knowing the implications of her question without need for further explanation.

“Fourteen,” he admitted. Violet’s eyes returned to his, wide and full of hurt for the boy he had been.

“You were a baby, John.”

“They made me a Spartan,” he responded, his eyes tracing her lips, realizing how close she had leaned to him. Her fingers caressed his skin again, handling each scar as if it were a stray bloom in need of rescuing. He swallowed, his question leaving his mouth as a whisper, unsure if he wanted to know her answer if it was anything other than what he hoped for. “Do they bother you?”

“No,” she breathed, tugging him by the hand towards her. He allowed her to move him closer, pressing his hand against the cool countertop as her hands ran up his arms, her forehead touching his own. Her hands found his cheeks as she brushed her lips to his, his face in her hands as she kissed him, “No.”

He leaned into her, his hand still on her leg as she kissed him. Her lips moved against his, gentle and cautious before she pulled away, her forehead still pressed to his. She looked up at him with those green eyes that rivaled any plant that sat within her greenhouses, her hand still on his cheek as she watched him as if waiting for confirmation that she hadn’t crossed some invisible line.

Suddenly, the roar of battle no longer pounded in his ears as he stared down at her. The heavy mantle of his duties were weightless upon his shoulders in that moment. There was only her in that heated gaze; in the way she looked up at him through her eyelashes, flushed and lips parted. In the symphony of the muffled songs of the musicians floating in through the balcony mingling with Sadie’s snores from where she lay on the kitchen floor. All he could hear, all he could see, all he could feel was her . He remembered life after removing the pellet; it had felt as if he was seeing color for the first time. The world, the war, his life; all of it had been so black and white, little room for anything other than a few shades of gray. And there she sat, like every hue of every shade he could possibly experience wrapped up in that f*cking dress. She was as golden as the lights that illuminated the pond beyond the windows, a vibrancy he had never experienced and didn’t want to step out of.

He moved his hand to the small of her back, sliding her to the edge of the counter to him in one swift motion, his lips crashing against hers. She pressed herself against him, his hand pressed to her back, the other knotting in her soft hair as her arms curled around his neck. Her lips moved against his, a soft sigh escaping from her as his hand returned to her thigh, tracing the length of her scar to her hip.

Home must feel like this.

Chapter 8: Headboards

Chapter Text

To Violet’s pleasant surprise, Spartans wore briefs. And they left deliciously little to the imagination.

John’s clothes paved the path from the island to her bedroom, each article discarded between kisses, his hands returning to her after each efficient tug of fabric. Their dinner lay forgotten in the kitchen as his lips met hers on the island, each kiss growing more desperate and needing as their hands roamed one another’s bodies. Violet had slipped her hands up his shirt, the hard muscles of his stomach tensing under her fingertips, and brought her lips to his neck, kissing along his skin to his ear, then dragging her tongue back down the same path to his shoulder. That had seemed to be his undoing; a growl-like moan ripping through his lips as he pulled her to him again, lips crashing against hers as he swept her off the counter. His shirt had been the first to go, Violet yanking it up as far as she could before he pulled it the rest of the way, throwing it to the side.

It wasn’t exactly how she had pictured their reunion when she saw him on the lift that afternoon, but she wasn’t about to complain. Not in the slightest . She was, however, grateful to the Violet of four hours ago for deciding on a more attractive pair of underwear, and for shaving her legs before he arrived.

His pants went next, Violet’s hands working his zipper as he carried her to the bedroom. He kicked them off in the hallway, Sadie trotting behind them towards the bedroom door. He pushed the dog to the side with one gentle sweep of his leg, pulling the bedroom door shut behind him. The dog scratched weakly at the door, whining for a moment before her nails clicked away on the floors back towards the kitchen.

Dusky sunlight cast shadows across her unmade bed as John discarded her onto the mess of sheets, kicking off his socks onto her bedroom floor. Violet pushed herself up onto her elbows, taking in the sight of the barely dressed man before her. His body was nothing but hard knots and ripples of muscle, the fading sun throwing shadows across his body like he was some ancient statue of a Grecian hero of long ago. A work of art.

As she brought herself to her knees to kiss him again, she paused, noticing the full scope of his scars; thick as ropes and old. They decorated his body like a road map, a documentation of every injury and surgery his lifetime had faced. The news of Catherine Halsey’s arrest had hit even her dusty little planet the year prior. Violet had wondered exactly what ethics the scientist had violated when establishing the Spartan Program, but the evidence stood before her now, unwilling to meet her eyes as her hands traced the scars on his chest.

Fourteen. She remembered her own fourteen; sleepovers and soccer games, arguments with her sister over stolen clothing and summer trips to the lake with her family. She had thought getting her appendix removed had been a major surgery, worried about what people would think of the small scar on her belly when she changed in the school locker room. It shouldn’t have been this for him. She found herself wondering who he would have been without this; if a fourteen year old Violet would have even turned a fourteen year old John’s head had their circ*mstances been different. Her fingers traced the collection of scars again; tracing the road map that had led him to her. It was fortunate thing Halsey was already in prison, she thought, Violet’s mind reeling from the thoughts of what she would do to that woman if she ever got her hands on her.

“I can go find my shirt,” his words came out a whisper, John still not willing to look at her as her hands traced, “If they bother you.”

“Stop,” she pressed her hands to his chest, touching his forehead to hers. His hands found her hips again, his breath shaky as he leaned into her touch. “They’re beautiful,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his, “you’re beautiful.”

He chuckled against her lips, the sound vibrating in his chest under her hands. She could feel his lips lift into a smile against hers as he kissed her, his hands sliding up her back again. She grazed her teeth against his bottom lip, John groaning into her mouth. His hands seemed to shake as he touched her, the thin straps of her dress falling off of her shoulders.

She pressed a kiss to his jaw, leaning back to look at him. His hands remained on her body, his eyes darkened as he watched her. His heated gaze did nothing to hide the nerves that seemed to be written in his expression from where he stood stiffly at the foot of the bed. She took his hands in hers, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” his answer came quickly, but Violet sensed a hesitation as his eyes darted to her lips again. He licked his lips, swallowing hard as he shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve only done this one other time. It wasn’t… it wasn’t my best.”

Violet felt her heart drop at his expression, taking his hands again. “We can do this as slowly as you’d like,” she said quickly, processing the full meaning of his confession. “We don’t have to do anything at all tonight. It is completely up to-.”

He stopped her rambling with a kiss, gathering into his broad arms again. She melted into him, John tilting his forehead against hers again, his nose brushing against hers. “I want to,” he whispered, Violet nodding at the statement.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated.

She smiled, peppering his jaw with kisses. “You know,” she ran a finger along the waistband of his briefs, John’s breath hitching at the touch, “I have a lot more clothing on than you. It hardly seems fair.”

Her dress was over her head in an instant, John tossing it behind him in a puddle of fabric. She kneeled on the edge of the bed before him, the cool air blowing in from the open bedroom windows prickling her naked skin. His hands skimmed along the curve of her waist to her breasts, his skin warm and calloused against her. His touch felt hesitant, as if he were holding back. She noticed that tilt of his head as he looked down at her, Violet matching the motion.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, sincerity to the worry in his tone. He pressed his hand to her chest, as if to feel her heart pounding under his touch. She pressed her own over it, bringing his hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to each of knuckles.

“You won’t,” was her whispered reassurance.

“Violet,” he swallowed, “I could-.”

“You won’t,” she repeated, meeting his nervous gaze, “I know it.”

Her lips found his again, his fingers knotting in her hair. She brought an experimental hand to the waistband of his briefs, sliding it under the elastic and taking him in her hand. She had felt him on the island, his erection pressing against her thigh proved just how much of him there truly was. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from the nearly seven foot tall man, but it came as a surprise as she ran her hand along the impressive length of him. John let out a choked gasp as she stroked him, his head falling to her shoulder in response.

She pressed a kiss to his temple, his fingers knotting in her crumpled sheets as she repeated the motion. She whispered for him to lay down, John following her order with the urgency of the soldier he was. In a series of shuffles against sheets, she found him on his back under her. She settled between his legs, John watching her every move as she slid off his briefs, his co*ck springing from them at full attention. Violet hoped that her eyes hadn’t noticeably popped at the sight of it, swallowing down a nervous giggle at the sight of his considerable size. She had seen plenty of dicks before, she told herself. Okay, maybe five dicks. She could do this. She brought her mouth to him, the flat of her tongue lapping at the head of his co*ck, her eyes fixed on his. His hips bucked at the touch, a string of curses hissing from his mouth.

“That okay?” She asked, stroking him again. His response came as a nod, his hips bucking again in response to her touch. She couldn’t help the smirk that split her face at the sight of him watching her with darkened eyes.

She lowered her mouth to him and dragged her tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his co*ck, John hissing out as the wet heat of her mouth closed around him. His head fell back against the headboard of her bed as her tongue swirled around the tip of him, the growled way her name left his throat becoming her new favorite sound.

Her hand joined moments later, sliding up and down him in tandem with her mouth . His whole body felt like a live wire under her, crackling and twitching under her touch. Her head continued to bob in his lap, her hair swaying with each motion as she took as much of him as she could, her eyes pinched shut and cheek hallowed.

“f*ck,” he groaned out, her lips turning up into a smile around him.

He didn’t know what to do with his hands, settling for gripping the headboard behind him, the other reaching down to stroke her cheek. She looked up at him with nothing but heat in those green eyes. Her lips left him with a wet pop, darkened and wet with saliva, Violet still stroking him in one hand.

She pressed a kiss to his palm. “Is this okay?” She murmured, pressing her lips to his too sensitive flesh again. He could only groan in response. Violet giggled around him, her eyes still fixed on his. She seemed to be enjoying every moment of this, and f*ck, he didn’t want her to stop. He nodded, unable to find his words with her grip around him, sure that whatever left his mouth would be completely incoherent. Her smile was positively feline as began her movements again, torturously slow at first, her tongue swirling and licking at him. Her lips left him again, Violet spitting onto the head of his co*ck before returning her hand to him, massaging the now slick length of him. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his throat, his hips bucking into her fist.

She licked him again before taking him into her mouth, her throat clenching around him as she gagged around his co*ck. Her nails bit into his thigh and he felt his breath catch at the feeling of her throat around him. His whole body reacted to her, tightening with pleasure, his fingers gripping at the headboard desperately as she repeated the same motion.

The unmistakable splintering of wood interrupted the wet sounds of her mouth around him as she looked up in surprise. Her swollen lips parted in shock as he brought his hand forward, finding himself gripping a chunk of her headboard in his palm. He looked between the lump of splintered wood to the headboard, the place in which he had anchored himself to it now missing. Violet watched him with wide surprised eyes, a beat of silence passing between them. Holy sh*t, she thought, I think I broke him.

A deep red flush crawled up his neck as he looked back to her. “I am so sorry.”

His apology was met by a burst of laughter, Violet’s hand clapping over her mouth as that joyful sound left her, echoing off the bedroom walls. She apologized, still giggling as she crawled up him on the bed, taking the chunk of wood from his hand and giving it a hard look before placing it on the bedside table, sitting back onto him.

“Don’t be. I was never crazy about that headboard anyway,” she laughed. “This is going to go straight to my head though, you know.”

“It felt good.” He replied breathlessly, laughing with her. She pressed her hands to his chest, eyes glinting mischievously. He brought his hands to her thighs, tracing them with his fingers to her hips.

“Should I continue?” She purred, that sinful look returning to his eyes. “Or are you going to keep breaking my furniture?”

She lowered her lips to his, John groaning as she dragged her teeth against his bottom lip. She lowered herself down the bed again, her nails dragging down his thighs as she slipped back between his legs. Her tongue flicked up the length of him again in question, her eyes fixed on his. He groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as he gritted out, “No promises.”

“Chief.”

Cortana’s voice pulled him from his sleep. He blinked into the dark room, Violet’s head resting on his chest. He closed his eyes again, “No.”

“Chief!”

“No, Cortana.”

John rolled over in her bed, tightening his grip around Violet’s sleeping frame. Sadie huffed between them, having been let in at some point in the night. She rested her head atop his leg and began to snore again. Violet stirred, pressing a sleepy kiss to his hand before slipping back to sleep.

He hadn’t lasted much longer once her lips had wrapped around him again, the Spartan embarrassed by his lack of endurance as he finished in her hand, her name on his lips in the dark bedroom. Violet had only kissed him before slipping out of bed, stating she was going to get him something to clean up with. He had watched her naked form travel across the room to the bathroom, Cortana reassuring him that the endurance would come with repetition. It took all of his willpower not to shout at the A.I. when the bathroom faucet turned on. He was already asleep when she returned to the bedroom, his whole body warm and heavy as his exhaustion overtook him.

Violet turned over, her hair spilling across the pillow. She tucked her cheek against his chest, curling into his embrace. He tucked the stray strands that fell into her face behind an ear, tracing the curve of her jaw with his fingers as she slept. The sight of her asleep beside him, twisted in the sheets she had pulled over the both of them when she returned to bed, had to be one of the most magnificent things he had ever seen. He listened as her breathing grew even again, tracing the curve of her spine.

“Chief, I must insist.”

“And I must insist that you leave us the hell alone, Cortana.”

“Fine,” she snapped, “ PT starts in 30 minutes but hey, how is that of any concern to me?”

John’s eyes snapped open, an annoyed groan escaping his lips as he rolled over. He pushed aside the splintered lump of her headboard, the chrono on her bedside table confirming Cortana’s snippy statement. Violet moved with him, letting out a sleepy noise of disapproval as he pulled out of her arms.

“What’s wrong?” Violet mumbled against his chest, her voice heavy with sleep. He rolled onto his back, Violet still clinging to him.

“I have to go back,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her bed mussed hair, “I have morning PT in thirty.”

“No,” she whined, wrapping an arm around his middle, “f*ck PT. Stay. It’s so early.”

He considered it for a moment, unwilling to pry himself from her arms. She tilted her head up, peppering his jaw with soft kisses. “I have to,” he argued weakly, pulling himself from her grasp and swinging his legs around the side of the bed. She made a grumpy noise as she slid to the warm spot he had left on the mattress, her eyes peeking open to watch him begin the scavenger hunt of finding his discarded clothing around the room.

“It’s four o’ clock. The trains aren’t even running yet,” she groaned, looking to the chrono, “come get back in bed. I’ll make it worth your while.”

He chuckled at the mischievous tone, Violet giggling as he reached under the bed for a sock, “I’m sure you would, goose.”

She caught his hand as he stood, her fingers curling into his, “Come back tonight. I’ll actually feed you this time.”

He looked down at her as he zipped his pants, her hair falling across her face, shadowed in the early morning light. She crossed her arms under his pillow, looking up at him from where she lay under the sheets. He didn’t even have to consider his response before nodding, knowing it would take whole fleets to keep him from returning to her. He reached down, brushing her hair from her face again. She touched his cheek, lifting herself to kiss him.

“I will,” he promised.

She smiled up at him, shuffling down under the sheets as he pulled them over her bare shoulder. “I’ll see you on base,” she mumbled, yawning and closing her eyes.

He nodded, kissing her again before straightening up. He crossed the room to the door, taking one last glance at her over his shoulder, her breathing evening again as she dozed back off. She curled into where his body had been minutes ago, pulling the pillow he had used against herself.

He found his shirt balled up on the kitchen floor, pulling it over his head. Sadie trotted behind him, parking herself by the door with an expectant stare at the overnight visitor. John seized his boots from their place by the door, settling onto the couch to tug them on. Cool morning air blew in through the opened windows, left forgotten the night before. John stood, reaching to push the windows shut, finding himself lingering in the open doorway. The sunrise peeked over the horizon, flooding the living room with pale light. He stood for a moment, watching the park wink awake underneath him under the pale glow of the street lamps, the geese on the pond waddling across one of the walking paths to the grassy shores of the pond.

He already couldn’t wait for the day to end.

Chapter 9: Family Dynamics

Chapter Text

Morning came far too early and was entirely unwelcome. Sadie came barreling back into the bedroom once the front door clicked shut behind John. She leaped onto the bed, licking Violet’s face and walking over her in encouragement to get out of bed for their morning run. Violet rolled onto her back, pushing the dog back with a groan as she looked over at the chrono; 4:05am.

Violet flopped onto her back, pulling the sheets up as she pinched her eyes shut again, hoping for sleep to overtake her again. Her bedding smelled like sweat and the generic soap issued in the barracks that she had come to associate with him, Violet breathing in the scent. Before, the smell of it had taken her straight back to communal showers at basic training, but she wasn’t ready to remove herself from it, the bed still warm from where his body had been. Sleeping beside him had been like sleeping beside a furnace. Violet had slept tucked to him all night in his warm embrace, drinking in the lovely heat in the cool bedroom, his arms wrapped around her.

Sadie’s tongue slipped into her ear, Violet gasping out in surprise and swatting the dog away as she rolled back over on her side. Her eyes fell to the chrono again, calculating just how long she could stay in bed without being too late for work. The chunk of her headboard sat beside the chrono, Violet’s lips twitching up into a smile at the sight of it. She reached out, taking the softball-sized handful of wood in her hand and giving it a long look. She rolled back onto her back, reaching up to feel the splintered edges of where his hand had been, a giggle escaping her lips.

She needed a stronger bedframe, she concluded. She doubted ‘horny Spartan proof’ would be a viable search criteria when she started her shopping on the train.

Violet peeled herself from the bed, Sadie leaping off of it and trotting back to the front door. She stood, stepping over the pooled fabric of her dress where it had been left discarded on the floor and giving it a weak kick towards her hamper. She dressed unenthusiastically, wishing she could crawl back into bed into the warmth of his arms as she pulled her leggings on. Her hair felt sticky as she pulled it up, twisting it into a tight knot atop her head, her fingers dragging through the sweaty strands as she crossed the living room to the door, already dreaming of her post-run shower. Sadie sat in front of the door, lead gripped in her mouth as she watched Violet slip on her sneakers. Violet clipped the lead to Sadie’s harness before straightening up, rubbing her tired eyes with her fingers as she continued to will herself awake at the too early hour. She blinked hard, yawning before reaching to open the door. Her eyes focused on a slip of pale green on the door, the cartoon smile of the houseplant printed onto her sticky note pad staring back at her. She peeled it off the door, heart fluttering as she read over his neat all capital writing scrawled across it, a smiley face scribbled under his message;

See you tonight.

Violet yawned hard, pressing a gloved hand to her open mouth. She was careful not to close her eyes as she yawned for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon, her near endless stream of coffee doing little to battle the exhaustion that had lingered since the night before. Audrey took the opportunity to strike, the carnifloria vorax lunging at her, snapping its needle like teeth. Violet raised a hand, catching the snappy bloom by its furry stem and giving it a shove back. She thumped the bloom with her finger, Audrey twisting away from her unhappily.

“Be nice,” Violet snapped, pointing a finger at the bloom that had begun to snap its teeth at her nastily.

The plant lunged at her again, Violet keeping her finger raised as she followed its motions. She seized a stag beetle from the tank of the work table, giving it a toss to the plant who snapped it up happily. Violet sighed, flipping the plant off as she reached for an extraction kit. She held Audrey’s stem steady with one hand as she ate, stabbing the needle of her syringe into the plant’s venom sac with the other, pulling the plunger. Deep purple venom oozed into the syringe, Audrey snapping her jaws in protest. “Almost done,” Violet reassured her.

She removed the syringe, yawning again as she tagged and labeled the venom sample before passing it off to the biology lab technician tasked with collecting it who had watched the whole extraction in horror. He took the vial with a shaking hand, his eyes still fixed on the carnivorous flower. Audrey snapped at him, the pale faced man letting out a startled gasp. Violet stepped between him and Audrey, flicking the bloom on the teeth.

“No!” she hissed. The tech turned, practically running from the greenhouse and away from the plant that seemed to take glee out of his terror.

She yawned again, pulling off her heavy gloves and tossing them down onto the worktable. The leather pulled against her damaged fingers, Violet hissing out in discomfort as she flexed her hand. She had changed her bandages after her shower that morning, embarrassment pooling in her belly as she stared at the identical cuts that wouldn’t have occurred if she had been paying attention to the kitchen knife instead of stealing glances at the gorgeous man snoring on her sofa. She picked up the sweaty plastic cup of iced coffee she had been nursing since that morning from the work table, swallowing down the watered down drink, willing the caffeine to revitalize her.

Her disrupted sleep didn’t bother her in the way it so usually would. She had spent the entire workday with the memory of his lips on hers crashing back into her mind, the way he had growled her name into the dark echoing through her head. She found her thoughts straying to the prior night during all of her tasks, some poor lab tech or horticulturist having to repeat her name to snap her back into the present. She didn’t care if she needed to get a direct IV of caffeine to stay awake, as long as every night ended that same way.

Her pad chimed on the workstation, an incoming call flashing on her screen. Violet turned her back to the agitated plant, reading over the name of the caller. Harris Home , it read; her parent’s comm number displayed underneath the all caps writing and red heart emoticon beside it. She flicked it up, dismissing the call, making a mental note to call them back tomorrow. She set down her cup, turning towards the wriggling plant behind her. If plants could sneer, she assumed that would be the only way to describe the way Audrey twisted at her in annoyance.

“Yeah, yeah,” Violet sighed, “Let’s get you back to your spot. Okay, girl?”

Violet turned, looking for the rolling cart she had used to transport Audrey from her spot in The Jungle to the workrooms. The cart was absent from where she had left it.

“Can I get a cart to the workroom?” She called out to her staff, her voice echoing through the empty greenhouse. The chrono on the wall above her signaled that the day staff had left for the day, the next shift starting in ten minutes, leaving her alone to move the plant that stood as tall as she did back to its spot in the afternoon sunlight.

She turned to Audrey, the plant baring its teeth at her again. “You need to get really cool really f*cking fast,” she warned it as she crouched down to feel around the sturdy pot it sat in for a place to grip. Audrey snapped at her hair, catching her bun in its teeth and giving it a sharp tug. Violet let out a pained gasp, straightening up to smack the plant on the bloom and give it a nasty look.

“Need some help?”

She turned her head at the familiar gravelly voice, finding John standing over the other side of the worktable. Violet smiled up at him as she straightened up, wiping potting soil on her pant legs. He returned her smile, jerking his head at the plant that now watched him curiously. “So,” he looked over Audrey, now baring her teeth at him, “This is the dickhe*d plant?”

“In all of her glory,” she replied, “I’m surprised you remembered. You were already snoring by the time I started that part of my story.”

“I don’t snore, goose.”

She rolled her eyes, “Sure you don’t. I only had to listen to it all night.” She popped up onto her toes to kiss his cheek, John leaning down to accommodate her reach, “Hi. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hi,” he responded, “I was in the area. Figured I would come see if you were headed out.”

John’s eyes fell on the plant again, Audrey thrashing about in an attempt to establish herself as the dominant predator. He watched her blankly, head tilting as he examined her. Violet glanced at the chrono again, noticing her workday creeping to an end with a smirk. She knew that Spartans had no reason to be around the greenhouses at any given time of the day, much less twenty minutes before her workday ended.

She pointed to Audrey, John still assessing the plant, “I just have to get her back to her spot in the greenery and I should be set to leave. It seems that my day crew took shut down procedures a bit too seriously, though. I can’t find the cart I brought her over on, so I’ll have to track that down before I can head out.”

John took a curious step towards the plant, Audrey snapping her jaw at him. He leaned back, unfazed by the carniflora vorax’s agitated state as she attempted to bite him again. Violet jumped when the plant’s teeth snapped mere inches from his head, John reaching out a hand and grabbing Audrey by the stem, holding her trashing bloom steady as he picked up the pot in one hand.

“Where do you want it?” he asked.

“Be careful! She bites.” Violet warned.

He simply lifted the pot to his shoulder as if the massive organism was weightless, watching her expectantly. He shrugged, “I’ve dealt with worse.”

He had her there. She waved him on, John following her through the paths of The Jungle into the greenery. Violet pointed to the empty spot the pot belonged to, John depositing the pot and dodging Audrey’s last attempt to snap at his ear, giving the plant an annoyed look. He straightened back up, looking to Violet with that smirk that she felt low in her belly, “Headed out now?”

“I still have fifteen minutes,” she said, smiling up at him, “So technically, I’m off now as long as you keep me hidden away from my staff. Let me get my stuff.”

John waited as she gathered her things, tucking her pad under her arm and I grabbing the thin fleece jacket she had worn on the walk from the train that morning off the back of her chair. She stepped beside him, John’s hand pressing against her lower back as they walked the winding paths to the exit. Audrey bared her teeth as they passed, Violet rolling her eyes. John glanced at the plant again, asking, “Why did they name it?”

“It’s from a super old movie. Well, a super old musical, really. It’s about this florist and a man-eating plant. I’ll spare you the details,” she explained.

He nodded, removing his hand from her back as they approached the doors, stepping behind her as they stepped out onto the concrete. Violet turned to face him, glancing down at his undersuit. “Should I plan to meet you back at my place?” she asked.

He pointed in the opposite direction of the greenhouses in the direction of where the Spartan barracks were located on the other side of the base. “I just need to change. Come with me? We can walk back together.”

Violet followed his finger, looking up at him nervously. “Am I allowed to?” she asked quickly, unsure if her clearance gave her access to that portion of the base.

He chuckled, his hand finding her back again, “I’m allowing it.”

Violet had never felt more out of place in her entire thirty years of existence than she did standing in the quarters of Silver Team.

John led her into the barracks and she had to take a moment to collect herself upon entering. She had remembered the orderly state of the barracks she had occupied early on in her career; the overly tidy neatness of basic training that came with procedure. But, the room felt almost sterile; beds made to perfection and not a single piece out of order, as if it had been sitting unoccupied rather than housing four individuals. There was not a single clue of those individuals in the room; not a single item that gave a bystander an inkling of who resided there save the supersized bunks made to support their size. Just gray walls, artificial lighting, and white bedding. It made her sad. She wondered if it had always been this way.

Violet followed John in, the door swishing shut behind them. She felt a small tinge of relief that they appeared to be alone within the room. One Spartan had been imposing enough when she had met him, but four felt like more than she could handle. Yet, if they all were like him under those hard exteriors…

John rummaged through the small wardrobe beside his bunk, pulling out a change of clothes. With a sharp tug, he yanked down the zipper of his undersuit, peeling the tight fabric down off of his arms. Violet averted her eyes for a moment, unsure if she was meant to watch, suddenly shy after the previous night’s events. However, her eyes lifted from the concrete floors to the hard muscles of his chest as he continued to undress in front of her, remembering how they had felt under her hands, the sounds of his whispered sighs in the dark of her room filling her head. John caught her gaze, his mouth lifting into a smirk as he tossed the undersuit on his bunk, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asked, pulling her eyes from his body to his face, noticing the same heated look in his eyes from the night before.

“That,” was his growled response, Violet feeling a heat in her belly at the sound. He stepped to her, tilting her chin up with his fingers, his eyes on her lips.

“Yeah? Or what?” she challenged. John lowered his lips to hers, but Violet leaned back, glancing between him and the door, “What about your team?”

“At dinner,” he replied, still studying her lips.

Violet nodded, his lips brushing against hers, her hands coming to rest on his chest. She leaned into his kiss, a contented sigh escaping from her having waited for this moment all day. The moment was cut short, however, by the sound of the doors swishing open as his team returned. There was a gasped “Oh!”, and Violet jumped back at the sound of three people stepping out of the doorway, clearing their throats. She felt her cheeks go hot, looking up to John, whose own neck had turned red, his expression hardening as he looked to the open door.

“Permission to enter, Chief? Or should we come back later?” a female voice called out, Violet looking nervously between him and the door.

John’s jaw set into a hard line as he looked beyond her, calling for his team to enter. Violet watched as the three Spartans entered, all watching her with the same curiosity they had the day prior when she stepped onto the lift, as if they were assessing if she was a threat. The blonde, Kai, she remembered, looked to John with a smug smirk as she entered which he did not return. Violet gave them a small uncomfortable wave, feeling herself tense as they all continued to study her, looking to John.

“I’m going to shower off,” he stated, Violet feeling the three pairs of eyes behind her on her back as she turned to him, “I’ll be out in five.”

He turned, Violet unable to find the words to protest before he slipped off to the showers, leaving her alone in the room with his team. She turned again, finding that they had all gone to their bunks, all still watching her from their respective tasks. Violet gave them a tight lipped smile before lowering herself onto the edge of his bunk, tucking her pad to her lap and busying herself with picking dog hair off of her jacket. Kai watched her from the bunk beside John’s, Violet realizing just how close proximity they slept to one another as Kai lowered herself onto the mattress, smiling at her.

“So,” she started, swinging her legs over the side of the bunk to face Violet, “You’re the girl from the lift.”

“That’s me,” she managed weakly. “I’m Violet. I’m John’s…” she paused, finding herself unaware of how to define her relationship to him in the presence of the Spartan. It felt like a foolish thing to be concerned by, especially in regards to him. She searched for the right word, settling with, “friend.”

From over Kai’s shoulder, she could see Riz and Vannak still watching her from their bunks, exchanging sidelong glances at one another. Kai looked behind her, turning back to Violet. “Don’t mind them. We’re not used to having guests is all. I’m Kai.”

She held out a massive hand to Violet, Violet taking it in a handshake that shook her entire arm. Kai still studied her, her expression kind as she looked over the woman on her leader’s bed. “I’m sorry if we interrupted-.”

“No,” Violet said quickly, sure she was still painted red, “No. You didn’t.”

A moment of quiet passed between the two women before Kai spoke again, gesturing to the patches stitched into Violet’s jacket, “Doctor, huh? Medical?”

Violet’s fingers went to the patch that displayed her name, looking down at it. “Oh no, botany. I’m a botanist. I work with plants. I’m sure my mom would be much more impressed by my doctorate if it had been medical though,” she laughed. Kai smiled, Violet feeling her shoulders relax slightly at the sight of it.

“How exactly did Chief come across a botanist?”

“We met at the park,” she said, the scenario feeling far too ordinary spoken from where she sat. “I almost hit him with my dog’s ball.”

Kai smirked, leaning back slightly, taking a casual posture as if speaking to someone she had known for years rather than only a few moments. Violet found that she had an easy way about her, her own nerves relaxing the longer they spoke. “I have to say it makes sense. He spends a lot of his down time there.”

“It’s quiet there,” Violet said, offering the same explanation John had given her that first afternoon.

“He seems to really care about you,” Kai said plainly, her eyes flicking to the doorway that led to the showers. “He doesn’t have to say it, but we could tell when we saw you on the lift.”

The blunt statement caught her off guard, Violet hoping that the surprise hadn’t riddled her face. Violet felt her lips quirk up into a smile, watching as John turned the corner into the room again, dressed in civilian clothing. His eyes softened when he saw her despite his stoic expression, Violet offering him a soft smile. “I really care about him, too.”

John looked between Violet and Kai as he walked towards them, a quizzical look crossing his face. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Kai said defensively as she stood, “Just getting to know your girlfriend.”

Kai turned to Violet with a smile, “It was nice meeting you, Violet. I’ll see you around.”

Violet returned her smile, standing from his bunk as he approached. That word caught in her chest as she looked to John as he neared his bunk. “You too, Kai.”

Kai nodded, turning to walk to the showers he had just come from. She bumped her shoulder against his with a knowing look, smirking up at him. “Should we expect you back tonight, Chief?”

He rolled his eyes, but Violet noticed the twitch of his lips he tried to hide. Violet fell into step beside him, giving another little wave to the remaining two Spartans as she followed John out the door, Riz returning it as they watched the two step out into the hallway.

“She seems fun,” Violet commented, John’s pace slowing to match her own as they walked the empty hallway to the exit. John nodded, scoffing before glancing around the hallway, his fingers curling into hers.

Violet enjoyed having him in her apartment. Sadie seemed to enjoy it more, however, following John like a shadow from the moment they arrived, leaping into his arms as he walked through the door without as much as a sidelong glance towards Violet. Violet rolled her eyes at the dog, despite the glow in her chest at the sight of him holding her dog, patiently allowing Sadie to lick his face as he toed off his boots at the door, kicking them off next to hers.

She slipped into the bedroom, quickly changing out of her uniform and leaving John in the living room. She took a moment in front of the bathroom mirror as she untwisted her bun, frowning at the kinks and twists left by the tight style and the humidity of the Jungle as she ran her hands under the faucet, combing wet fingers through her hair in attempt to loosen the bumps her bun had left with little success. She sighed, quickly adjusting her breasts in the bodice of her dress before stepping back into the living room.

She found John standing before her shelves, Sadie at his feet, an amused look on his face as his eyes fell to her. He held up the chunk of headboard from the night prior that fit perfectly in his palm, “Why is this on your shelves?”

Violet couldn’t help that laugh that bubbled from her chest, her hands coming to her mouth. Her thoughts went to the events of her morning as she cleaned up the remnants of their forgotten meal after Sadie’s walk, having taken the piece of wood from the bedroom to toss it in the trash.

“I must have left it there this morning. I had it in my hand to throw away and got sidetracked. I must have set it down there and forgotten about it. I might just leave it there,” she teased, breezing past him into the kitchen with a wink, “I told you; it was going to go straight to my head.”

John shook his head, chuckling as he set it back down on the shelf. Violet smiled as she moved through the kitchen, pulling out the utensils and ingredients she needed to replicate the previous night’s dinner. John followed, leaning against the island and watching her as she set a pan on the stove, tapping on her pad to start her evening playlist, the plucky sounds of acoustic guitar oozing from the speaker on her counter.

She pulled the cutting board and knife she had maimed herself with from the dishwasher, setting them out on the counter as she reached for the onion she had set out. No sooner did she reach for the knife was John’s hand on it, palm pressing the blade to the counter. Violet looked up to him, John co*cking an eyebrow at her and gesturing for her to pass it to him. Her own brows raised in return. “Do you think I’m so incapable?” She teased.

John slid the utensils to himself, Violet rolling the onion to him, “No. I’m just in no mood to administer first aid again tonight.”

“Hey,” she scoffed, “I believe I returned the favor quite handsomely last night, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, Violet turning to attend to the pan on the stove. The song changed to one of her favorites, the raspy voice of the singer echoing through the kitchen. She swayed as she stirred, singing along softly as she looked over her spice rack, the sound of John chopping behind her falling in rhythm. It had been years since anyone had shared her space, let alone her kitchen. It seemed easy with him. She turned towards the island again, rummaging through a drawer for a spatula, still singing along. She felt his eyes on her, looking up to find him watching her across the counter with that soft look that made her knees weak.

“What?” She asked, smiling at him.

“I like this,” he said softly as he looked down at her.

“Cutting onions? Good, because I hate it. That can be your date night job, then.” She joked, setting the spatula down on the counter and leaning against the counter.

He reached across the counter and took her hand, thumb brushing over her knuckles, “Being here with you.”

“Then stay.”

The night, the week, forever. It made no difference to her as long as he continued to look at her like that.

John smiled, leaning across the counter lowering his lips to hers. Violet melted into his kiss, thankful for the lack of interruption in the quiet apartment. His lips moved against hers, soft and warm, Violet pressing her hand to his cheek. From the opposite side of the counter, her pad chimed as her comm line rang, an automated voice calling out; “ Incoming call from: Harris Home .”

Violet groaned, reaching across the counter to hit dismiss, John stepping round the island, his lips finding her neck as she looked over to locate the device. She declined the call with a tap, turning back to his lips. John’s hands traced the curve of her spine, fingers fumbling with the delicate zipper of her dress. Her comm line rang again, Violet groaning at the rhythmic tone.

“Do you need to get that?’

“My parents,” she groaned against his lips in explanation, blindly tapping at the counter for her pad, “I’ll call them back tomorrow.”

The chime of an accepted video call rang from her pad, Violet letting her forehead thud against his chest when she realized she had hit accept in error, “f*ck.”

“Hello? Vi? Can you hear us? We can’t see you!”

Jane Harris’s voice filled her daughter’s kitchen, an unwelcome noise to Violet’s ears. Violet closed her eyes, hoping that she could disappear from the moment as her mother continued to call her name. She held a finger up to John, who nodded in understanding, turning to make his way to the sofa, Sadie following behind him. Violet bit back the string of curses that bubbled in her throat as she slid off the island and uprighted her pad. She straightened her clothes and gritted out a smile, “Hi, mom.”

Her father’s voice joined the mix of the video call, Violet finding herself staring up at her parent’s ceiling. Their pad rocked jerkily, her parents bickering as it exchanged hands.

“Hold on, kiddo,” Bill Harris called out, Violet catching a glimpse of her father’s spectacled face before it disappeared again, “We got a new pad and I’m still learning it. I liked our other one better. I don’t know why your mother insisted we get a new one.”

“We were up for an upgrade! It’s an upgrade! We’re upgraded!”

“CAN YOU HEAR US?”

“Dad, you are literally screaming ,” Violet groaned.

“Well, can you hear me? I can’t hear you all that well…”

“Did you turn up the volume on our end, Bill?”

“It’s on, I turned it on. Wait- oh, there we go.”

Violet rested her elbows on the counter, sighing as she rubbed her temples. “My whole floor can hear you two,” she muttered out, “I’m sure of it.”

“I can’t hear her, Janie. Can you hear her? Can you hear us, Vi?”

“I can hear you, dad.”

“Here, Bill.”

The image on her pad uprighted, her parents coming into view. Her parents sat beside one another on their couch, Violet catching a glimpse of the living room of her childhood home behind them. Bill and Jane looked as they always did; her father dressed on one of his old city zoo pullovers, her mother perfectly done up in the same way she had been since Violet was a child, not a single hair out of place. Her dad adjusted his glasses, smiling brightly when he saw her.

“Oh, there she is. Hey there, kiddo.”

“Why didn’t you answer our calls?” Jane asked, always straight to the point.

“I was at work, mom,” Violet replied.

“You’re not at work right now and you declined our call,” her mother said pointedly, “Is that dress new? It’s very booby.”

“Mother,” Violet hisses, straightening up to tug up the neckline of the dress she had chosen specifically when she had gone to change when they arrived at her apartment because it was booby.

“ What? It’s cute! I’m just saying- it’s a lot of boob! It’s a lot of boob for the afternoon.”

“Jane, can you not talk about her boobs while I’m in the room?”

“Mom,” Violet said through clenched teeth, “I would love to talk to you guys later, but I’m busy right now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Your mother and I joined a birdwatching group this week,” her father announced happily, obviously not picking up on her attempt to usher them off the phone.

“Wow, I thought beekeeping was the most stereotypical hobby you picked up during retirement, but that takes the cake, Pops. That’s the new winner.”

“Ugh, Bill, she’s making fun of us.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” she groaned, “That’s great, dad. Can you tell me more about it tomorrow?”

“Hey kiddo, do you know what Katie is up to?”

“I don’t know, dad,” she said, hoping she was doing a better job of hiding her exasperation than she felt she was. She glanced over her shoulder to where John sat, rolling her eyes. Sadie sat in his lap, eyes half closed as he scratched her ears. “If you want to talk to Katie, call Katie.”

“Is there someone there with you, sweetheart? You keep looking behind you.” Her mother called out, leaning towards the screen like she could peer through the camera into her daughter’s apartment.

“I have a friend over, mom,” she said hurriedly, “I’ll call you tomorrow!”

“Oh a friend, huh? A friend or a friend ?”

“A friend, mom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you…”

“Well turn it around, I want to meet your friend. Is he handsome?”

“Mom, he doesn’t want to talk to-.”

“HELLO!”

Violet buried her face in her hands, letting out an exasperated groan as her mother kept calling out. She gave John a helpless look over her shoulder to where he observed her, considering the woman who continued to shout through the pad and the defeated expression on Violet’s face. He stood, crossing the living room to her, giving her hip a gentle squeeze before stepping behind the counter beside her as he leaned down into view. Jane’s eyes popped as her daughter’s companion came into view.

“Good lord, he’s a giant,” she muttered to her husband, “Bill, look at how tall her friend is.”

“He’s very tall.”

“And very muscular. He looks very muscular.”

Violet’s teeth gnashed at the inside of her cheek, “We can still hear you, Mom.”

“What? He’s tall! I can’t point out that he’s tall?”

“Mom,” Violet sighed, John’s hand pressing against her back reassuringly.

“Shush. Hi Violet’s friend, we’re Violet’s parents who apparently forgot to teach her manners,” Jane quipped, watching her daughter with the same severe, stern stare of a retired middle school administrator that Violet had grown up learning to avoid.

Violet sighed, “This is John. This is my mom, Jane, and my dad, Bill. We have to go, guys. I’ll call you-.”

“Hi, John. It’s nice to meet you.” Violet bit back the frustrated scream that bubbled in her chest as her mom continued to yammer on, John far more gracious than she as he nodded to her mother.

“You as well, ma’am.”

“Oh he’s polite. Listen to how polite he is, Bill.”

“Very polite.”

“Hey guys? Guys,” Violet called, interrupting the whispered conversation her parents were having in front of an audience, Bill and Jane stopping to look at her, “I’d love to talk more later, but our dinner is getting cold. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Alright, alright,” her dad acquiesced, finally picking up on his daughter’s attempts to usher them off of the phone. “We’ll let you get back to it. Loved talking with you, kiddo. And it was a pleasure to meet you, John! Sorry again for interrupting.”

“You as well, sir.”

“Alright, love you kiddo.” Her dad called, Violet returning the statement as her parents’ ceiling came back into view with a fumbling of the pad.

“What a nice young man,” Jane said to Bill, the top of her head still in view.

“Very nice. Very tall.”

“Hang up the call, Dad,” Violet called, letting her head fall into her hands.

“I’m trying.”

“Just swipe up.”

“Oh, ah!” The call ended with a ding. Violet slid the pad away from her, Violet groaning and resting her head against the cool counter in an attempt to mitigate the hot flush that crawled across her face and the dull headache that now pounded in her forehead. John stood behind her, hand still pressed to her back as he stared down at the pad.

“Are they always,” he paused, choosing his words, “like that?”

Violet stood, turning and stepping into his arms, burying her face in his chest. “Clinically insane? Unfortunately. That was pretty tame for them, actually.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest under her cheek. He brought a hand to her head, fingers running through her hair. She relaxed against him, enjoying the feel of his arms around her. “I am so sorry,” she began, “That was a lot. They are a lot-.”

“I like your family,” he said softly. She stopped, pressing into his embrace with a sigh.

“I like yours, too.”

Chapter 10: Anthuriums

Chapter Text

He did stay.

He stayed through the night. They spent the evening on her sofa, talking and laughing as they ate. He would relent to Sadie’s begging on occasion despite Violet’s halfhearted protests, slipping the pup scraps from his plate until she wandered off to the kitchen to sleep with a full belly. Violet had recommended a movie as the night grew darker and he welcomed the excuse to stay, their plates beside one another on the coffee table as she pressed against him. He tossed the blanket she had thrown over him across their laps, his hand on her leg. She put on some gory horror movie through her fingers as he called out the location of every armed murderer seconds before they appeared on screen, analyzing what the victims should have done to counter the attack despite her eye rolls and giggles until she silenced him with her head in his lap.

He stayed through the night, listening to the sound of her soft breathing as she slept on his chest, her hair tickling his nose as rested his chin atop her head. She talked in her sleep; mumbled nonsense that would rouse him awake until she would tighten her grip around him, the sensual sound of bodies under sheets filling the darkened room. Sadie slept between his legs, occasionally waking up to lick his toes before she would roll onto her back, feet splayed in the air as her snoring resumed.

He stayed into the next morning, pulling himself from her arms when Cortana woke him up in time to run across the city to base for morning PT. She had gotten up with him, dragging herself out of bed in a series of unintelligible grumbles to his questions as she dressed and programmed the coffee maker. She clipped Sadie’s lead to her harness, still bleary eyed as she kissed him at the door of her building before they parted ways. He watched her jog towards the walking paths of the park, Sadie beside her, electric pink pounding against pavement as her ponytail bobbed rhythmically behind her.

He had spent his entire life following routine; his life regimented to the point in which it was no longer his own. He could find himself enjoying this routine.

“My, my. Two sleepovers now? At this rate, I should create a packing itinerary for you. When do I get to meet the lucky lady?”

He rolled his eyes as he watched Violet disappear around a turn in the path, white blooms fluttering to the pavement in the early morning breeze. He wondered how many would appear in jars on her shelves when he returned that evening.

He found himself watching the clock in a way he had never before, counting down the minutes until five o’ clock. He found himself at the greenhouses again that evening, some wide eyed horticulturist stumbling over a response as they pointed when he stopped them to ask for her location. The Jungle welcomed him with a blast of humidity as he stepped in, walking the paths lined in lush green to the back worktables. The fanged plant snapped at him as he passed, clicking its jaw in annoyance when he ignored it and lowered itself back into the surrounding greenery.

He found her hunched over a worktable, her music blaring from the greenhouse speakers as she worked. The table was littered with pots and soil, several large leafy plants dotted with glossy red blooms lined up in a neat row beside where she worked. She sang along to an over synthesized pop song as she rooted a plant from its pot, swaying with the beat as she took the clump of dirt and roots in her hands, shaking it slightly. She looked up as he approached, that smile splitting her face as soil rained down on the metal tabletop.

“Hey, big guy.”

“Ready?”

“I have four more of these to do,” she said, gently twisting and pulling at the intertwined ball of roots in her hands, soil tumbling to the table top again in a series of muted thumps. The roots released, Violet now gripping two plants in her hands. She dropped one into an empty pot before turning to scoop soil into another, gently lowering the other plant into it.

“You can head out without me. I’ll meet you back at my place; shouldn’t be too long. You can take my access card,” she said, packing soil loosely around the plant and giving it a leveling shake. She paused, head tilting as if something had occurred to her as she turned to look up at him.

“Wait,” she said, brushing her bangs out of her eyes with dirty fingers, “How did you get into my building without me the other night?”

“We’ve been found out, Chief. I assume now could be a great opportunity for us to meet, seeing that I am the one who has been overriding her building's security system.”

John ignored the chipper voice, giving Violet a shrug with a weak explanation of, “Neighbors let me in.”

His excuse seemed to placate her enough, Violet turning back to the work table with a small satisfied noise. She slid a potted plant to the side, turning to a large plant that she removed from the pot in a series of swift motions. He watched as she repeated the same motions as she handled the new plant, gently shaking out the roots until each individual stem separated into its own ball of roots in her hands. John slid into the stool across from her as she dropped each into a respective pot.

“I’ll wait until you’re done,” he said, sliding one of the finished pots to himself and looking over the fleshy roots that seemed to crawl out of the earth around it.

“Watch out, I might put you to work then.”

“What are you doing with them?”

She continued to work, green eyes focused on the plants before her as she lifted a mass of roots to the light, inspecting it with a few gentle prods.

“So these,” she pointed to the finished plants, “are anthuriums. They’re a type of arum that comes from Earth. They grow aerial roots that usually like to be packed pretty tight into whatever vessel it grows in. But, if the root ball gets too tight, it can prevent the plant from getting enough nutrients to sustain it, so it starts to die; which was the case with these guys. So I get the pleasure of separating these big guys out into a bunch of different smaller starts. This will be my eighth one this afternoon that I’ve had to seperate out.”

“Sounds boring.”

She laughed, “Not my worst day at work, actually. It’s pretty relaxing.”

She slid another potted plant down the line, reaching for another larger plant. She tilted the plant to the side, one hand gripping the bottom of the pot, the other supporting the base of the plant as she turned it upside down, soil falling against the worktable as the plant fell into her hand. She reached out, removing his hand from the table top and turning his palm up.

“Here,” she said, placing the plant into his hand, “Give it a try.”

He took the plant, soil sifting between his fingers as he watched Violet. He replicated her motions, gently twisting at the ball of roots until they gave away from one another. She smiled up at him from across the table with that scrunch of her nose that pushed up her cheeks, hands full of earth and roots as she eagerly explained the purpose of each step of the separations, pausing every so often to touch his hands and correct his movements with a giggle. He watched her, soil smudged across her forehead from where her fingers had brushed her hair away, her hands under his and he felt that thing in his chest twist in the same way it had that afternoon in the park.

He had limited memories of his parents; only glimpses of his mother and father lost to time. He could hardly remember their faces, nor the sounds of their voice, but he remembered this feeling; warm and whole as if standing with his back to the sun.

He wondered if they had looked at one another the way he looked at Violet and felt that same twist as well.

Violet glanced at the chrono as she tapped at her keyboard, the thought of the previous night’s Chinese takeout that sat in the break room fridge pulling her thoughts to her lunch break. John had stayed for a third night, Violet’s anthurium related activities in the Jungle keeping them in the muggy greenhouse until the sun started to set. She had spent the evening teaching John how to use chopsticks as they lounged on the sofa with their feet kicked up on the coffee table, the several snapped pairs that had littered the living room floor a trophy to Spartan determination as he partook in her Thursday night dinner ritual.

She enjoyed having him at her apartment. She just enjoyed having him around, really. She was glad he had stayed. She hoped he continued to stay.

She leaned back into her chair, clicking through a series of reports that had been sent up from Greenhouse #3, The Desert. Photographs of different cacti filled her screen as she scrolled through the reports, fingers tapping out a reply to the head horticulturist. The familiar buzz of the PA system rang through her office.

“Brokkr teams to your stations for mounting-.”

Violet didn’t wait for the call to repeat before her eyes snapped to her pad. A wave of relief washed over her as she checked their comm thread to find that he hadn’t sent her a message confirming that sinking feeling in her stomach, the last message that of John’s reminder to lock the door when he left that morning. She grimaced as she realized that she in fact had left the door unlocked. She let out a sigh as she set her pad back down, assuming that his team was not the one being sent out as she leaned back into her chair, her shoulders relaxing as she returned to her communications inbox.

A knock at the door pulled her from her scrolling, Lorelei standing in the doorway. “The samples from The Farm just came up,” she said.

Violet stood with a nod, joining Lorelei at the door as she led her to the labs. Lorelei handed Violet her pad as they walked, Violet scrolling through the samples that had been sent up from the agricultural greenhouse that was Greenhouse #4. The building was devoted to the research and development of agricultural methods, Violet’s eyes scanning over the results of the tests the labs had run on the new species of corn they are working to develop for flash growth.

She handed Lorelei her pad, the woman making quick work of displaying the results onto the wall monitor in front of the lab table. Violet slipped off her lab coat, tossing it over the back of the stool as slid into it before the microscope, “Slides have already been prepped?”

“Yes, Doctor Harris.”

“Great. Tell me what I’m looking at.”

Violet leaned over the microscope, focusing it until the purple tinged cell structure of the sample cleared, displaying the clutter of oblong shapes. She listened as Lorelei described her findings, nodding along as she confirmed each on the slide. She lifted her head occasionally to scribble down notes before pressing her eyes to the scope again. She didn’t look up at the knock at the door, focused upon an anomaly on the slide that caught her interest.

“Can you get that?” She muttered out to Lorelei, hearing her chair scrape against the floors as the woman stood.

She didn’t hear the muffled conversation at the door between Lorelei and the visitor, assuming it was simply another lab tech having come to retrieve something. Violet changed the slide, swapping them out cautiously before returning her focus to the microscope. Lorelei cleared her throat, “Doctor Harris?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been requested at Hangar 4.”

Violet looked up, giving Lorelei a quizzical look. “Me? Do they have the right Doctor Harris?”

Lorelei shrugged despite the intrigue littering her face. “I don’t know. They said you were requested at Hanger 4 immediately.”

Violet’s confusion grew as she slowly made to stand up, still unsure as to why she would be requested there in the first place. She didn’t have any teams out, nor did her teams come through that hangar after field expeditions. She reached for her pad to check her inbox to ensure she hadn’t missed a request, realizing that she had left it in her office. She tugged her coat back on, shrugging it onto her shoulders, “Did they say by who?”

“That’s the strange part, ma’am; The Master Chief.”

John. Violet stomach clenched, realization stinging at her. She didn’t bother to reach for her things before she swept past Lorelei, brushing shoulders with her in the doorway. The redhead watched in puzzlement as the botanist swept through the doorway without explanation, leaving the lab table unattended.

“Finish looking over those slides and send your findings over to my office!” She called behind her, stepping out into the doorway.

She turned down the hallway, several technicians milling between laboratory doors. Violet’s pace quickened as she neared the lift, her heart racing as she neared the doors. She watched as a researcher stepped through the open doors, eyes fixed on his pad as he reached for the button, the doors sliding shut.

Violet broke out into a run, shouting for the researcher to hold the door, turning the heads of several staff that passed by. She slipped between the doors, the researcher watching her with wide eyes as the door swished shut behind her, Violet slamming her fingers against the button that would take her to the hangars before pounding the close door button in an attempt to ensure no others could enter. The lift jumped as it started its descent, Violet offering the researcher beside her a tight lipped smile.

The doors swished open again, Violet breaking out into a run down the series of corridors that let out to the hangars. The roar of engines filled her ears as she neared, passing by marines that watched her with puzzled expressions, panic rising in her belly as she willed herself to move quicker. The roar grew louder as she neared, the Pelican sitting at the edge of the hangar as it was prepped for flight. She caught a glint of familiar green as a warthog rolled by, bringing her to a stop, feeling the tension that had riddled her body relax.

She returned to her jog as it rolled past, slowing as she neared where he stood. She paused for a moment, taking in the mass of him in his full armored state, helmet tucked under his arm as he gave orders to his team. She had seen endless propaganda of the Master Chief in full MJOLNIR, but found herself taken aback by the size of him as he towered over her. He was by no means a small man by any stretch of the mind, but the weight of who had shared her bed the night before settled in as she looked over him in the armor.

“John!” She called over the noise of the engines, having to shout to be heard.

He turned, a ghost of a smile breaking his hard expression as he caught sight of her jogging towards him. She raised her hands in a questioning motion as she slowed, stopping in front of him.

“A message would have worked too, you know,” she teased.

“I did,” he called back, “You didn’t respond. Figured this was the next best thing.”

Violet’s heart sank as she made a mental note to never leave her pad in her office again.

“So you won’t be home for dinner then?” She smiled, hoping it masked the disappointment that bubbled in her. That familiar rot crept into her belly as her eyes flicked between his armor and the ship behind him.

He gave her an apologetic smile, “Sorry, goose. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me by coming home safe, okay?”

He took her hand in his own, Violet’s hand feeling even smaller in the weight of his gauntlet. He gave it a small squeeze as he looked down at her, “Always do.”

“Promise?”

He chuckled, “Promise.”

Violet became suddenly aware of the eyes that had fallen on them, feeling the burn of the curious stares they received from the hangar staff. He leaned down in a questioning motion, his eyes fixed on her lips.

“Are you sure you want to kiss me in front of all of these people?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” she smirked, “Can’t have them thinking you have a big fat crush on me. Could be bad for your reputation, Master Chief.”

He shook his head, his chuckle drowned out by the roar of engines. Kai passed by them, boots falling heavy upon the ground with each step, the helmet of her armor hiding her face.

“Wheels up in three minutes, Chief,” she called to him, voice distorted by the helmet. She nodded to Violet, the same chipper tone she had spoken with from her bunk echoing through the helmet as she spoke again, “Hi Violet.”

“Hi Kai,” Violet smiled, eyes following the armored Spartan as she walked up the ramp, boots clanking against metal as she disappeared into the belly of the ship.

She turned back to John, finding his eyes on her with that same softness she had come to expect of him. “You should get going,” she told him, jerking her chin towards the ship, “Your ride is leaving.”

“Better kiss me goodbye then.”

Violet grinned, her fingers finding the edge of his chest plate, John lowering himself to her lips. She brought her hands to his face, feeling the stubble of his cheeks against her fingers, tracing the line of his jaw as if to commit it to her memory before he disappeared for an undetermined amount of time.

She knew then it would never matter how many times she would experience this with him; the rot of worry would creep into her stomach each time he put on that suit the same as it had the first time. He pulled away from her kiss, his face still in her hands. She brushed her thumb against his cheek.

“You be so safe, do you understand me?” She whispered, meeting his gaze, uncaring of the eyes that had come to fall on them.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m serious, John. Come back with all your parts and pieces.”

“Should I expect a full physical inspection when I get back?” He smirked.

Violet scoffed, the corners of her mouth tugging up at his comment as she smacked his chest plate weakly. John took her hand in his own with a final squeeze. She didn’t want to let him go. He held her hand a moment longer, opening his mouth to speak as if to tell her something before he shut it again. He dropped her hand and raised his own helmet to his head, mechanisms locking with a series of pneumatic hisses as the eyes of her John disappeared behind the visor of the Master Chief, Violet now staring at her own reflection in the gold.

He leaned down a final time, touching the cool metal of the helm to her forehead before he turned to board the ship. Vannak stood at the base of the ramp waving him on as he jogged up, the ramp raising up as the ship prepared to lift off. Violet stood on the tarmac, eyes fixed on the Pelican as it raised with a roar of the engines, propelling forward and taking to the skies with a gust that ruffled her clothing, carrying him away with it. She watched until the speck of it disappeared into the blue, that hollow feeling returning as she watched, drowning out the ringing in her ears.

She turned to return to the labs, avoiding the stares and whispers that followed her, sure she would receive some prying looks from Lorelei upon her return. She assumed she had some time in her schedule now to continue to review samples now that her dinner plans had cleared the atmosphere.

“Doctor Harris!”

Violet turned at the female voice mere steps from the lift, heart dropping as she found the speaker. Doctor Miranda Keyes watched her from where she stood behind her, her back to the hangar opening, her expression clinically neutral as she regarded the botanist.

“A word?”

Chapter 11: Conversations

Chapter Text

Violet offered up her office for her impromptu meeting with the head of Spartan Research. They rode the lift up to her level in uncomfortable silence; Doctor Keyes’ eyes fixed upon the doors ahead of her while Violet silently climbed out of her skin, bouncing on her hip with arms crossed tightly over her chest, feeling like her stomach had dropped so far into her ass that she could sh*t it out. The eyes of her staff followed her as she led Keyes down the hall to her office. Violet was sure the whispered rumors she planned to spend the rest of the day avoiding underwater at the Ponds would commence as soon as her office door shut behind them.

She stepped into her office before Keyes, suddenly aware of the cluttered state of her desk. Yesterday’s coffee mug rotted on her desk, Violet quickly collecting the scattering of protein bar wrappers that had taken up residence on the tabletop, rings of water left behind by her iced coffee she picked up on her way in dotting the desk. She swept the wrappers into a drawer, quickly wiping up the moisture with her sleeve before she gestured to the chair across from her, Keyes looking around her office as she entered as if documenting every little thing. Violet felt sweat trickle down her back, desperately chalking it up to her run down to the hangar and not the way she was being seemingly observed by her boyfriend’s boss.

“I apologize. I’m usually a lot tidier than this,” she lied.

Keyes sunk into the chair across from her, Violet still caught in her perspicacious stare as she sat behind her desk. Violet pushed her pad to the side, John’s unnoticed parting message still blinking on her screen. A tense silence fell between the two scientists, Violet finding her hands coming together on her desktop, fingers picking nervously at her thumbnail. Violet cleared her throat before she spoke, meeting Keyes eyes with a smile that shook slightly.

“How can I be of assistance, Doctor Keyes?”

“I’ve been a Spartan short at curfew the past three nights,” she said plainly, watching Violet’s fingers gnash at the bed of her thumbnail, “I’m assuming the little display I witnessed before Silver Team’s deployment would answer where the Master Chief has been sleeping?”

“I am so sorry,” Violet began, her thoughts moving quicker than her mouth could, “That was incredibly inappropriate. I assure you it will not-.”

“Answer my question, Doctor Harris,” she interrupted, adding with a polite smile, “please.”

“Yes,” Violet squeaked out, a jolt of pain shooting through her as she clawed away at the soft flesh.

Doctor Keyes nodded, leaning back into her chair. Violet’s heart pounded as the woman looked over her. They had to be the same age, if not Violet her senior by a year or two, but she felt pinned down by the gaze of the fellow doctor as if she were a naughty child called into the principal's office. Granted, she had grown up under the piercing stares of a principal when she misbehaved as a child; but Miranda Keyes’ hard expression gave Jane Harris a run for her money. Violet swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as she opened her mouth to speak. Doctor Keyes raised a hand, Violet’s mouth snapping shut. You’re so f*cked, Harris, she thought, so entirely f*cked.

“I’m already aware of your…” she paused, searching for the correct word. “Situation with the Master Chief.”

“How?”

It wasn’t as if they had been hiding it purposefully, nor had they discussed the nature of whatever it was that they were doing. She had come to enjoy the quiet nature that came with the privacy of getting to know the man behind the armor. Her John; the one that she only got to see. The man who played with her dog while she made dinner, whose shoulders shook when he laughed, who would kiss her on the train as they rode to her stop. She had enjoyed having that one thing that belonged solely to them, and she hoped that he had, too. If it were to end now at the hands of the UNSC, at least they would have that; and it would belong to only them. She knew for certain that walk through the park to her building would never feel the same.

“Kai told me,” Keyes said, Violet resisting the urge to scoff. The doctor’s mouth quirked up into a smile, “She’s a bit of a gossip. She means well, believe me, but you can’t trust her with a secret if it’s not a matter of galactic security. I think she knew of your existence in his life for, oh, I don’t know, four minutes before she came barreling into my office to tell me? It wasn’t exactly what I meant when I told him to find a hobby, but hey; it’s a start.”

Violet nodded, Keyes' eyes still locked onto her. Violet twisted her fingers, thumb now spotted with blood. She recalled the time her sister had run to her mom to tell her that she caught Violet kissing a boy at school, the feeling in her stomach similar to the one that sat there now. Keyes leaned forward towards Violet, resting her arms against the edge of her desk, Violet no longer feeling as if she had control of the environment as she sank back into her own chair. Silence hung heavy between the two as the women considered one another, Violet’s pad chirping out a reminder for the unread messages that sat upon it. Keyes’ eyes flicked to the screen, reading over John’s message before turning back to Violet with a small smile.

“You’re not in trouble, Doctor Harris. Consider this a conversation between colleagues.”

Violet felt herself deflate like a balloon into her seat at the statement, Keyes' smile spreading as the botanist’s shoulders dropped. She glanced towards the pad once more before continuing.

“When I took over the program, it was important to me that I didn’t make the same mistakes as Halsey,” She bit out her mother’s name, as if every letter was laced with bitterness. “I felt as if this was my opportunity to make amends. The Spartans have spent their whole lives being treated like anything other than human; just cogs in the war machine. My goal was to find the people under all of the armor and drag out the sense of self they lost when they were taken.”

“ Taken? ” Violet felt her heart drop another few inches at the word.

“He hasn’t told you?” Her expression softened slightly as she regarded the horror written across the botanist’s face, Violet’s picking ceasing at the word. “I can understand; it’s a bit of a sore spot.”

“What do you mean taken ?”

Violet listened as the woman told her the tale of stolen six year olds and flash clones, quickly wiping away the wet that formed on her cheeks. She thought back to the first evening he had stood in her apartment. Of the way his eyes had lingered on the picture of her at that age; playing in her mother’s garden with Katie in the glittery fairy wings she refused to take off until bedtime, hugging Cocoa the family Labrador. She felt her heart sink as she recalled the heaviness she had noticed settling into him as he stood there. Six had been a year of play and make believe, of first grade and playing with friends on the playground. She hadn’t known fear other than the dark and the monsters under the bed that her father would check for before tucking her in at six years old.

She thought of him, of them all; little and afraid. No one checked for monsters under their beds. No one kissed away their tears when they skinned their knees. They became soldiers before all of their baby teeth had fallen out. Primed and prepped for war as their parents lowered their tiny caskets into the ground.

“Are you alright, Doctor Harris?”

Violet wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand, kicking herself for allowing herself to become so emotional in front of the fellow doctor. She straightened up, nodding, hoping something polished and professional would leave her mouth as she responded but her reply only came out a watery whisper.

“He was a baby .”

Keyes gave her a small, sad smile in return, nodding. “They all were. It was… a blow when they found out last year. Especially to John and Kai.”

Violet couldn’t imagine who wouldn’t feel that blow. Doctor Keyes leaned forward onto her desk, sighing before continuing, “John carries more anger, more pain, than a thousand men could bear. He has spent his whole life fighting; this responsibility is all he’s known. From the moment my mother laid her eyes on him, his life became this war. But since he’s met you, there’s been this peace to him. I think he’s been searching for that for a while.”

Keyes took a long look around Violet’s office, glancing between the potted pothos plants that climbed along her shelves, eyes falling on the framed photo Violet had put on her desk of herself holding Sadie as a puppy; Violet mid-smile as she held the fluff of black and white fur in her arms. The doctor leaned back into her chair, seemingly satisfied.

“Beats the last crush he had,” she stated with a casual shrug, twisting slightly in the spinning chair, “You seem perfectly normal compared to the last one, thank god.”

“The last one?”

“I guess that was before you came to base. She ended up being a Covenant spy and tried to kill us. It was a bit traumatic for us all,” Keyes said with the same casualty as one would restate the evening news.

“Oh,” was all she managed, unsure if she had heard her statement correctly. She blinked at the doctor as her words settled in, searching for a response. “I had an ex cheat on me with his cousin once,” she blurted out in an attempt to relate.

She trailed off, every part of her consciousness screaming at her to shut the f*ck up as Doctor Keyes’ eyes widened slightly. “It was a second cousin,” she amended weakly, her voice dropping to a mumble, “So, I can get the whole crazy ex thing...”

A tense silence fell between the two again, Violet wishing that she could slip under her desk and disappear. It seemed that it was Keyes’ turn to mull over the confession of romantic history with the tilt of her head. Violet’s neck burned, her fingers returning to her fingers as embarrassment bubbled thick in her gut.

After what seemed like an eternity, Doctor Keyes leaned forward with a nod, gesturing to Violet’s monitor, “The care of Spartans is an entirely complex matter. I will have my team send over a file on basic requirements for Chief’s keeping for your viewing. Approved meal plans will be sent over to you by the team dieticians, along with a writeup on optimal sleeping patterns. I’d prefer if he slept on base two to three times a week to keep him integrated with the team.”

“Wait,” she said cautiously, watching the young woman stand from the chair, “You’re not going to-.”

“Make you terminate the relationship?” Keyes finished for her, the shadow of a smirk on her lips, “Doctor Harris, we have learned that when Chief is set on something, he doesn’t take kindly to the word no. This saves us all a headache, believe me.”

Keyes pushed in the chair as she stood behind it, considering Violet with one last long look, eyes dropping to the photo of herself and Sadie again. Violet stood as well, watching as the doctor made towards the doorway with a parting nod. She stopped, turning to Violet, “Doctor Harris?”

“Yes, Doctor Keyes?”

“Go easy on him,” she said, her expression softening as she looked back at Violet from the doorway, “This is all new to him.”

Violet nodded, offering her a small smile before she turned to the doorway. Keyes paused in the doorway where she stood for a moment before turning back to Violet with a quizzical look, “With his cousin?”

“With his cousin,” Violet repeated with a chuckle.

Doctor Keyes inched back into the room, intrigue creeping across her face as she pulled the chair back out and settled back into it. She pointed to the coffee maker behind Violet, “Does that work?”

“Sure does.”

She peeked at the chrono over Violet’s door. “I have fifteen minutes,” she stated as Violet turned to switch the machine on, repeating again, “His cousin?”

Violet smirked, turning back to the fellow doctor, “I know. So long story short-.”

John stood in the co*ckpit of the ship, the Pelican eerily silent. The team had all slinked off to their respective corners of the ship after their departure from Reach that morning to prepare for whatever waited for them on the other side of the jump through space. He had found his way back up to the co*ckpit, escaping the giddy looks Kai had given him since they left the hangar and Vannak’s suggestive waggles of his brows. Riz had seemed to be the only one who remained focused on the mission at hand, much to his relief.

He stood behind the unmanned chairs, the Pelican’s autopilot hurtling them through space in silence. He crossed his arms, eyes fixed ahead, the hum of engines filling the small space. He took in the fleeting moments of silence, knowing that it would end promptly as they entered the atmosphere of the planet they were sent to. The whisper of her hand still lingered in his own in the hours since he saw her last, the ghost of their parting kiss on his lips. She had been hesitant of the stares and whispers, but he didn’t entirely mind. She was worth every one of them.

The silence was broken by Cortana’s voice in his HUD, John forcing back a groan at the sound of it.

“Everything alright, Chief?”

“Just fine,” he grumbled out.

“I beg to differ. Since we have departed Reach, your dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin levels have all raised noticeably. The same is to be said for your cortisol and adrenaline, which is probably why you are demonstrating increased irritability with the team. It may also explain your restlessness and why you are currently in the co*ckpit instead of getting some rest.”

“Get to the point,” he grumbled, Cortana appearing beside him in a flurry of blue light. She clasped her hands behind her back, looking up at him with the tilt of her head.

“Could this have anything to do with the lovely botanist you kissed goodbye? You know, the one you still won’t let me meet? It’s quite rude of you, actually. I believe Violet and I would get along swimmingly.”

He turned to the hologram beside him, visor blocking the roll of his eyes before he returned to the windshield of the co*ckpit. f*ck, he hated when she was right. He returned his eyes to the glass, focused on the glow of the compressed multidimensional space around them, willing Cortana to take a f*cking hint for once in her installation. However, she continued to chatter as she turned to match his gaze, stepping beside him.

“I must say, Chief, she really is beautiful. Being that I am not human, I am unable to relate beauty to the specificities of current societal standards. However, I find that Violet’s face possesses the preferred symmetry that most humans would relate to their biological assumptions that symmetrical things are inherently more pleasing. According to the measurements I have been able to collect-.”

“Enough, Cortana.”

She was right for the second time in that conversation, he thought. She was beautiful. The twosome stood in silence for a movement, John hoping she would disappear as quickly as she had come and leave him to his thoughts. Cortana stood beside him, following his gaze out into the nothingness of space.

“Would you like to see her?” Cortana asked, glancing up at him.

“How?”

“‘How?’ Please, Chief. You insult me. From what I can find in the personnel logs, it appears that Doctor Harris’ last access scan was into Greenhouse #2 at 5:32pm tonight. She has not scanned back out. All it takes is a quick tap into the greenhouse security cameras, lover boy.”

He turned to the AI once again, Cortana still looking up at him, the quizzical expression he wore hidden behind the helmet. “Are you recommending we spy on her?”

“If that’s what you would prefer to call it, yes.”

“No. That seems,” he paused, “intrusive.”

“Have it your way then,” she sighed, disappearing with another flash of light .

He remained where he stood, the silence returning as Cortana ceased to speak. The deafening silence roared through him, broken up by the occasional thunder of footsteps or chime of the control systems. He returned his eyes to the space outside of the ship, watching out into the nothingness.

“Cortana?”

“Already on it. Coming into your display momentarily. You Peeping Tom, you.”

Security footage flickered into his HUD in an instant, filling it with images of the lush greens of the Jungle, Violet’s music blasting into his ears. Cortana quickly adjusted the volume of the video footage, John wondering how Violet had come away from the last thirty years of her life without any hearing damage.

She stood over the work table, her lab coat thrown over a stool, her uniform shirt smeared and dotted with soil. Hair stuck out from her tight bun, her bangs twisting in the humidity and sticking to her face. She sang along loudly to the nearly p*rnagraphic lyrics of the rap song blasting through the speakers, dancing as she turned between a monstera plant and the work table. Takeout boxes littered the tabletop, Violet scraping the bottom of one with a pair of chopsticks and bringing the remaining contents to her mouth as she looked over her pad, tapping out a response to a message with soil stained fingers.

“Goodnight, Doctor Harris! Headed out soon?”

She looked up, waving to the horticulturist who raised a hand to her as they passed by, “Goodnight! Nope, I’m here for a bit longer.”

“On a Friday? No plans?”

“They got canceled. Have a great weekend!” She called as they passed to the exit with a smile before returning to her work, her hands reaching into the pot the plant sat in. A look of contentment returned to her face as she worked, the plant swaying under her touch as she worked, still dancing slightly where she stood to the vulgar lyrics.

“Would you like me to turn it off?”

“No,” he said quickly, watching her wipe her palms against her pants before picking up a trowel, “leave it.”

As he watched her, with her hands deep within the pot and soil smudged onto her cheeks, that goddamn smile that could guide him through the darkest pieces of him, he realized one thing; that home knew no physical shape. It knew not the bounds of Cortana’s definitions; nor the confines of four walls and a door he always had to check was locked when he left in the morning, or in the lights on the pond that beckoned him like a lighthouse on stormy waters. Home was in the way she looked at him, the echo of her voice as she sang along to her songs in the kitchen. In the smell of strawberry shampoo and in the feeling of her hand gripping his to her chest as they slept. Home existed in the arms of the girl he met by the pond. The girl who saw him. Who found him in those deepest pits of himself and pulled him into the light. Home was in Violet Harris; and he would follow her light to where she led.

He couldn’t wait to be home.

It was late when they arrived back to FLEETCOM five days later, the skies inky black as they cleared the atmosphere and started their descent. Summer had fallen over the city in the time he had been gone, the air still hot and thick as the heat preserved into the night, greeting them with a blast of humidity as they walked off of the ship. MJOLNIR removal and debrief pushed the hour well past midnight before they returned to their quarters, Kai flopping down onto her bunk with an exhausted sigh instead of heading to shower off.

He didn’t bother with a shower before stripping off his undersuit and changing quickly in an attempt to not waste more time. Vannak chuckled as he passed by John on his way to the showers, John lacing up his boots.

“You smell like sh*t,” Vannak called over his shoulder as he passed.

“You think you smell any better?”

“f*ck no. Difference is I’m not the one headed off to my little girlfriend’s house.”

John rolled his eyes, standing and making his way to the door. Riz waved from where she laid on her bunk, eyes on her pad, Kai already asleep in her own bunk still fully dressed.

“Tell Violet we said hi,” she called without looking up, John raising his hand in a quick wave before turning into the empty hallway.

The walk to her apartment was drenched in humidity as he crossed the city, sweat clinging to his body as he traveled through the winding paths of the park. The paths led him beside the pond, her building blinking into view from between the trees, dark and silent in the late night hour. He glanced at the pond as he walked; the waters deep purple and still, the geese retired to wherever they nested for the night.

One dot of light spotted the surface, glowing gold in the darkness. John followed the kernel of light to the white stone face of her building. One light shone from the dark building; the fourth floor corner unit that overlooked the pond, planters and pots overflowing with green on the balcony. The blue light of her entertainment center flashed occasionally, throwing shadows against the sliver of living room wall he could make out from where he stood. His pace quickened towards her building, the locks of the entrance doors clicking as he neared to pull open unlocked doors.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Welcome home, Chief.”

His feet carried him to the last door on the left, his shoulders relaxing as the familiar numbers stamped into the door stared back at him. He stood in front of it, waiting for the blink of green light that would announce Cortana’s locksmithing. There was no twist of the lock, John raising an eyebrow.

“You going to get that?”

“It’s already unlocked.”

“Violet,” he sighed, pushing open the door and stepping into the entryway.

Sadie slept on the living room floor beside the couch, ears perking up at the sound of the opening door. She spotted John, tail drumming against the floor happily as he stepped in quietly. He could make out a slip of rich brown hair on the arm rest, Violet sprawled out across the sofa as she slept. The entertainment system was still on, blaring at a deafeningly loud volume as two women in miniscule bathing suits screamed at one another on screen at a poolside over something trivial, one throwing her drink into the face of the other with a string of obscenities.

Sadie stood with a stretch and yawn, watching John slip off his boots by the door, shutting and locking the door behind him with one hand. The dog bounded over to him, her sleepy silence disrupted by the excited howl she let out as she trotted to John.

Violet startled awake at the noise with a gasp and mumble of obscenities as she pulled herself up, looking around the dark house for the source of the howling with bleary eyes. The sleepy, panicked expression she wore faded the moment her eyes rested on him in the entryway, that smile he had thought of for the past five nights splitting her face.

“You left the door unlocked,” he stated, shaking his head as he kicked his boots into their place beside the electric pink running shoes, “We’ve talked about that, goose. I need to know you’re safe when I’m not home.”

She pulled herself up over the back of the couch, crossing the living room with bare feet as she ran to him. “ Lecture me later,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to him. Violet’s lips found his jaw, peppering it with kisses as his fingers traced down the soft fabric of her tank top.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, John leaning down so that her lips could find his own. Her hands slipped to his face as she kissed him, her body pressed to his as Sadie jumped on their legs excitedly. Violet released him after a moment, John noticing the way her nose wrinkled as her lips separated from his own.

“What?”

“I am thrilled to see you. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been waiting for this all week,” she said, a giggle escaping her lips as she brushed her fingers through the stubble of his cheeks, “But you smell awful.”

He chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers, “I wanted to get here as soon as I could.”

Violet kissed him again before pressing another kiss to his lips. “Let’s get you in the shower,” she said, that heated glow returning to her eyes as she tugged at his shirt, “I believe you promised me a full physical inspection.”

Chapter 12: Pillow Talk

Chapter Text

He could get used to coming home to this.

John tilted his head back and let out a low groan as she clenched around him, her name leaving his lips as a growl into the dark room. Violet rolled her hips against him, skin still wet from the shower, her eyes pinched shut as her breathy moans filled the bedroom. His hands went to her waist, eyes dragging over the sight above him; Violet leaned back on his lap, her hands gripping his thighs as she rode him, her breasts bouncing as she slid up and down his co*ck. He brought his hand between her legs, rubbing her with his thumb, the soft moan that escaped her lips acting as her approval.

She quickened her pace, her hips moving in rhythm with his as she ground against him. He pulled her to him, fingers knotted in her shower damp hair, his face buried in her neck as he thrusted against her, meeting the pace she set. He could feel her body tense as her whimpers and moans became louder and she fell out of rhythm with him, her hips bucking against his.

“f*ck, John,” she panted out, the breathless way she gasped out his name the sweetest way it had ever left another’s mouth.

Her legs trembled as she repeated his name like a mantra, her gasp echoing off the walls as she came undone for the second time that night, tightening around him as she leaned down to kiss him. He groaned into her mouth, his tongue slipping past her teeth. His touch grew more urgent, his hand slipping around the back of her neck and drawing her closer to him as he continued to f*ck her.

Violet whimpered as he pounded into her, her nails biting into his skin as she clung to him. He followed after her a few moments later, calling her name as he spilled into her, her lips moving against his neck. He groaned, his hips bucking a final time as her forehead fell against his, both panting and gasping for breath. Violet rolled off of him onto the mattress beside him with a satisfied sigh, John resting his hand on her thigh and chuckling when she jerked at the touch on her still sensitive flesh. He kicked at the damp top sheet balled at their feet, the mess of linens thumping dully against the bedroom floor.

“The sheets are all wet,” he murmured. Violet turned over beside him, still catching her breath.

“Well, neither of us bothered to towel off at all,” she replied. John thought back to their stumbled path from the shower to the bedroom, both still dripping wet when he tossed her onto the bed. “It’s too hot tonight for them anyway.”

Violet rolled onto her belly, a contented expression on her face as she crossed her arms under her pillow and brought her head to it. She puffed out a sigh as her eyelids grew heavy, looking up at John with half lidded eyes. She reached out a hand, fingernails scraping gently through the stubble of his cheeks and chin, caressing the contours of his face as if to familiarize herself with them after his absence. He turned onto his side to face her, his own fingers tracing the fine lines of the stems of honeysuckle and larkspur tattooed in the space between her hip and shoulder blade.

“Doctor Keyes paid me a visit while you were gone,” Violet said, her voice heavy with sleep.

His hand stopped its movement across her back as he pushed himself up slightly, heart dropping as he looked down at her, “What happened?”

She smiled, a chuckle bubbling from her, “She gave me your user manual.”

“What?”

Violet nodding, her chuckle growing into that bright laughter as she rolled onto her back to look at him, “Roughly 120 pages outlining the care and keeping of my Spartan. Everything I need to know about feeding and f*cking you, which I personally don’t think I’ve needed any assistance with, a list of your preferred bedtimes, and much more. It’s been an interesting read, really.”

He laughed, allowing himself to relax back into the bed beside her, “Learn something new?”

“That I’m grotesquely underfeeding you,” she said, “And that I’m about to put out a small fortune on groceries every week. Why didn’t you tell me I’ve been feeding you a fraction of what you’re supposed to be eating for every meal? I’ve been practically starving you.”

“It never came up,” he laughed.

Violet rolled onto his chest with a sleepy giggle, pressing herself to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her still naked frame against him. “It’s fine,” she mumbled sleepily. “I think I’ll keep you around anyway.”

He pressed his lips to her hair, resting his chin atop her head as he settled back into the bed. Violet’s face found the crook of his neck as it had every night before, pressing a kiss to his jaw before her eyes fluttered shut. Sleepy silence fell over the dark room, John listening to her breathing as it grew soft and even.

“Oh!” she gasped, her head popping off of his chest. He opened his eyes, seeing a playful smirk spreading on her face as she propped herself up onto her elbow beside him. She rested her head against her fist, her hand on his chest. He turned his head and gave her a questioning glance over the pillow, Violet barely able to contain her giggles. “Tell me about this murderous ex-girlfriend of yours. Should I be worried?”

John rolled his eyes, Violet squealing out a laugh as he gave her a gentle shove onto her back, “Go to sleep, goose.”

“Don’t avoid my question!” she laughed, turning back over.

John pressed his lips to hers before rolling onto his side, “Goodnight.”

Violet laughed again, scooting herself beside him so she could throw herself over his shoulder as she unsuccessfully attempted to pull him down onto his back. “I feel like this is a matter of safety!” she continued, John shaking his head, “Do I need to brush up on my self defense? Am I going to have to fight someone? Because I will.”

John laughed at the thought, “Can’t say I can picture you in a fight, goose.”

“Hey! I’m scrappy! The Covenant wouldn’t know what hit ‘em,” she laughed, John chuckling and pushing her hands away as she playfully boxed his arm. She giggled, returning her head to her fist as she looked up at him with a smile, “I just had to choose a Spartan… what did I get myself into?”

Her giggles echoed through the dark room, John shifting in the bed to roll on top of her. Violet wrapped her arms around his neck in response, green eyes bright with laughter as she looked up at him. “Having regrets?”

She touched his face, her thumb brushing over his lips as she looked up at him warmly. “Not in the slightest,” she said definitively, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “You’re stuck with me, big guy.”

That feeling returned to his chest; the twist Cortana had identified for him as he boarded the Pelican after kissing her in the hangar. John brought his head to hers again, his forehead touching hers before kissing her again. Stuck with her. He couldn’t imagine a better thing to be.

Turning the galaxy’s greatest weapon into her own personal sex god was dehydrating work.

Violet rolled over, John’s arm wrapped loosely around her waist as he snored in her ear, her mouth painfully dry. She blinked at the numbers illuminated on the chrono before slipping out of his embrace and crawling across the bed. John stirred, mumbling something in his sleep before his snoring began again. Sadie was tucked tightly between his legs, paws straight up in the air as her own snores duetted with his own, her tongue poking out of her mouth.

Violet smiled at the sight of the naked man that shared her bed as she felt around in the dark for her panties, locating them draped over the shade of the lamp on the bedside table and tugging them on. She snatched up his shirt as she passed to the bedroom door and pulled it over her head, nose wrinkling at the smell of it. She was careful to not make any noise as she inched the door open, slipping out of it into the dark living space.

The evidence of the grazing she had called her dinner still sat on the island; a third of a bag of potato chips, an empty zippered bag of shredded cheese she had eaten by the handful over the sink, and the wrappers of the few peanut butter cups she had found in the back of her freezer. Violet took a moment to collect the few items, tossing wrappers into the trash and tucking the half-eaten items away before retrieving a glass from the cabinet. She filled the glass from the tap, sipping from it over the sink in the dark as she thought about what little snacks she may have hidden in the cupboards.

“Hello, Doctor Harris.”

The clear, bright voice of the woman turned Violet’s blood to ice. She jumped and let out a scream as she turned and threw the glass in the direction of the unfamiliar voice, finding that it passed through the blue woman standing in her kitchen. The glass shattered against the wall, leaving a wet splatter against the backsplash.

“John!”

The opaque blue woman watched Violet from where she stood by the stove, Violet looking back at her with wide frantic eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. I assumed now would be the best time for us to meet, since Chief is asleep and has refused my requests to introduce us. I have been looking forward to meeting you,” she said kindly, crossing her arms behind her as she smiled at Violet, “I am Cortana.”

Violet held her chest, her heart pounding wildly under her hand. She took a few steadying breaths as she considered the shimmering blue woman in her kitchen, wondering if she was dreaming the obvious AI standing in front of her.

“What the f*ck?” She sputtered out.

A series of thudded footsteps and the crack of the door snapping off of its hinges after being forcefully thrown open announced John’s arrival into the kitchen. He skidded into the room, still fully nude as he grabbed her by the arm, yanking her behind him and looking around the dark room as he assessed it for the source of her scream, his eyes falling to the AI in the kitchen. John let out a growl of frustration at the sight of her, dropping the defensive stance he had taken as he regarded her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Violet peeked out from behind John at the glowing woman, looking between her and John. Cortana crossed her arms, matching John’s fierce stare with a raise of her chin.

“I wanted to meet her! You won’t let me, so I took the opportunity to-.”

“Scare the sh*t out of her?” John growled, “In the middle of the night?”

“That was not my intention! If you had allowed me to introduce myself when I had asked-!”

John interrupted her, the two beginning to bicker, Violet looking between the naked Spartan and AI in her kitchen that argued in the same way she and her sister had as teenagers. Her mind spun as she watched, managing a whisper of, “What the f*ck is happening right now?”

Violet shook her head, willing her brain to compute full thoughts again as she continued to watch. She cleared her throat, John’s voice raising to a tone he had never used in her presence before; authoritative and a bit terrifying as he regarded the AI.

“John,” she called.

The bickering continued, Violet’s voice lost between theirs.

“John.”

He continued to look past her, his voice raising as Cortana continued to argue with him. Violet looked between the two, John’s eyes still fixed on Cortana, who stood with her arms neatly folded as if she were having a casual conversation with a friend.

“Time out!”

Both Spartan and AI fell silent, turning to face Violet. She stepped beside John, placing a hand on his chest. “It’s alright,” she said to him, turning to Cortana. “I guess this makes you the other woman? Or am I the other woman?”

She blinked at Violet’s attempt at humor, head tilting slightly, “If you are insinuating that John and I are engaged in a sexual relationship, that would be physically impossible. However, based upon my readings of his hormonal state, I would believe that he has achieved org*sm thrice tonight-.”

“It was a joke, Cortana,” John snapped.

“Oh. I understand.”

Violet looked between them again, turning to Cortana, “It was very nice to meet you, Cortana. I look forward to speaking again soon. Preferably when I am fully dressed.”

“It was nice to meet you as well, Violet. I am pleased to hear that Master Chief is functioning sexually without issue. Please do not hesitate to inform me if that changes,” Cortana said cheerfully, smiling at Violet.

Violet physical recoiled at the bizarre interaction and looked to John, his face beet red as he grit his teeth beside her. Her hands went to her hips, her words lost in her throat as she tried to formulate a response. “Oh,” she forced out, “Thank you.”

Cortana nodded, “You are most welcome. Goodnight, Doctor Harris.”

“Goodnight,” Violet replied, the AI disappearing into a flurry of blue light. The twosome stood in the dark kitchen for a moment, Violet completely silent as she stared at the spot the AI had stood. Her hand went to her open mouth, head tilting as she looked to John, “Why does she know how many times you got off?”

“We should talk.”

Violet Harris prided herself in being a woman of science. She always viewed herself as having an academic mind, the myriad of scientific achievements she left behind in her field a trophy case to that success. She had developed ionic growth methods that had fed communities, she had contributed to research that developed new medicines and crops that sustained far beyond the expiration dates of their predecessors. But even with all of her advanced degrees, her ever curious mind could not wrap itself around the story he had told her from where he sat on her bed leaned against her broken bed frame. All she could do was stare, dumbfounded, fingers pressed over her mouth in thought as John stared back at her.

She opened her mouth, John’s brow raising in anticipation of her question, her mouth shutting again with a curious humph. She touched the base of her skull in the same place his own scar sat, having felt the knot-like scar over a dozen of times without a second thought as to what sat under it.

“So she’s this one?” She asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his tone serious. Violet only nodded.

“And she sees whatever you sees?”

“Most of the time.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” she repeated, her hand returning to her lips. She knew, logically, she had no reason to be this unnerved by the AI. But, her mind continued to spin as if on an axis as she took in John’s story in conjunction with the grand introduction Cortana had made in the kitchen. She took a breath, John’s eyes still on her.

“Is she watching when we’re…?” She made an obscene gesture with her hands, unable to say the words in her uncertainty of the AI’s presence.

“No,” he said, Violet’s shoulders dropping in relief that the blue woman who lived in her boyfriend’s head hadn’t seen her asshole when he had bent her over the bathroom vanity before they had showered. She paused as she reviewed her last thought, shaking her head at just how strange all of this was.

“So, this,” she tilted her head the way she had noticed him do so many times before, “that’s her? Talking to you?”

“Yes.”

“And you talk back to her?”

“Yes. Are you okay?”

She flopped back onto the bed, rubbing her temples with her fingertips, “Oh, I’m something,” she muttered, “Is she talking to you right now?”

“No, I’ve asked her to… give us some privacy.”

Violet sat up again, looking to where John sat, his expression straight as he watched her. Where the f*ck was this in my user manual, Miranda? she thought, wondering if she had missed the section on special features including a fully integrated AI system.

“And you were going to tell me about this when?” she asked.

“I was waiting for the right time to bring it up.”

Violet nodded, teeth gnashing at her cheek as she tried to think of a response. John continued to watch her, his eyes not leaving her as she rubbed her eyes, a dull ache forming behind them.

“Cortana and I have clear boundaries that we have discussed and agreed upon,” he stated as if in reassurance, “she can be a bit overzealous at times, however.”

“No, no, boundaries,” she repeated with a nod. She rubbed her face, crossing her legs under her, “boundaries are good. That’s important.”

Silence fell between them on the bed, John watching as Violet continued to rub her face, silently processing the information shared with her. She wondered how many laws and ethical conventions had been violated when they drilled into his skull. She wondered if he had consented to the procedure; if his consent would have even been considered. Her eyes fell to the scars that littered his body; each a souvenir of his body being opened and rearranged and replaced. She assumed this was no different. John didn’t meet her eyes, instead staring at the sheets between them. He cleared his throat, glancing up at her before his eyes fell to the linens again.

“Violet,” his voice was soft as he spoke her name, bringing her focus to him once more. He swallowed, “I could understand if this is reason for you to end-.”

“Hey,” she interrupted the statement before he could continue, bringing herself to her knees in front of him. She took his face in her hands, that softness returning to his eyes as they fell upon her own. John’s hands wrapped around her wrists. “I knew the moment I met you that I was getting into something unexpected and uncharted,” she murmured, John’s thumb brushing against the tattoo on the inside of her wrist, “I just didn’t expect this to be one of those things. It’s going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me, big guy.”

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he turned to press his lips to her palm. Violet smiled, bringing her lips to his forehead, “We’ll make it work. You have a little blue lady who lives in your head; minor detail. I just wish this had been included in your user manual.”

He laughed, Violet easing at the sound. She lowered his face to his own, her lips finding his again. He pulled her to him, clinging to her as her hands ran over the close crop of his hair, fingertips brushing over the scar at the base of his skull. She settled into his arms, Sadie jumping back on the bed and curling up at their feet.

“We need rules,” she said softly, “the three of us. I know you two have yours, but I need some as well.”

“Okay.”

“Like, lots of them,” she stressed, “We’re making a list. Written down. Posted on the walls so it’s crystal clear that those are the rules. The first one being that she’s not allowed in our bedroom while we’re naked together.”

He chuckled, Violet feeling the noise vibrate in his chest under her cheek. “Whatever you want, goose.”

She smiled, toying with his fingers before slipping her own between them.

“I’m going to go to sleep, because this is a lot to process at two in the morning,” she said slowly, stretching her legs out and bringing herself back to the pillows, “And try to wrap my head around this. Purely from a scientific standpoint.”

John followed suit, laying down beside her. They both laid on their backs, eyes fixed to the ceiling in silence. Violet’s mind raced as she recalled the interaction and the conversation that followed over again, questions sprouting up faster than she could acknowledge them. John shuffled beside her.

“You want to start your list, don’t you?” He asked plainly, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

Violet popped up. “Oh my god, I do,” she gasped out, already crawling over him to reach for the nightstand drawer, “I really do.”

John sighed as he sat up again, Violet pulling out the small notepad before crossing her legs under herself as she sat. She scribbled Cortana’s name across the top of the page, underlining it with her pen before looking up to John, finding his head tilted as watched her.

“I said not in the bedroom,” she reminded him firmly, John’s straight expression cracking as he started to laugh.

“I’m kidding, goose.”

She swatted at him, John catching her hand. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Too bad. You’re stuck with me.”

Violet’s elbow jabbing into John’s side woke him with a start. She turned over beside him, John finding that the botanist whose bed he shared moved almost constantly as she slept. He found himself lucky if he could sleep for more than a hour without interruption from an elbow, knee, or an alarmingly cold foot pressing against his leg. He looked over at where she slept on her back, his shirt draped over her and her hair over her eyes.

He turned over, brushing her hair from her face. It had dried in a wild mess of twists and pillow friz, hanging around her head in a tangle of deep brown. She stirred at the touch, eyes blinking open as she yawned and stretched. She gave him a sleepy smile, whispering, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he whispered back, returning her smile.

“Watching me sleep now?” She yawned, turning to face him. “Weirdo.”

He rolled his eyes, Violet draping her arm over his waist as she inched over to him and closed her eyes again. Sadie slid off the bed at the disruption, nails clicking on the floor as she trotted out of the bedroom to the front door. She jumped up on the door, nails dragging down it. John’s lips found Violet’s neck, his hand slipping up the back of her shirt.

Violet groaned, giggling as his hand roamed her body, “Again? It’s so early.”

“I’ll be quick,” he murmured against her skin, his lips finding her own.

“Yeah right,” she laughed, “that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I don’t think I can go again and still be able to walk to base.”

“I’ll carry you then.”

She rolled her eyes, groaning out a sigh when his hand dipped into her panties, “God, I’ve created a monster,” she laughed, rolling over to look at the chrono, “Let’s see how much time we have.”

John pulled her hips to his as he continued to kiss her neck, his free hand reaching up the front of her shirt. Violet pressed back against him and groaned when his hand found her breast, turning her head to kiss him before turning back to look at the chrono through half lidded eyes. A panicked gasp ripped through her lips, John’s hands pulling away in fear that he had hurt her. She pulled herself up, turning to look at John with wide eyes.

“What?”

“It’s 4:43! You’re late!”

“f*ck,” he hissed out. They both leapt from the bed, scrambling around the room for his clothing. Violet tossed him his pants, John catching them in one hand as he looked around the room frantically for his underwear, “Where are my-?”

“Bathroom!”

Violet found his socks on opposite sides of the room, tossing them to John as he left the bathroom, now dressed from the waist down. He tugged them on, balancing against the bathroom doorway.

“Shirt,” he gritted out, Violet peeling his tee off of herself and throwing it to him.

He pulled it over his head as he rushed out of the bedroom, Violet following behind. Her eyes lingered on the overextended hinges of the bedroom door as she passed through it, the door now hanging at an awkward angle, “Jesus. There goes my security deposit.”

“I’ll fix it tonight,” he called over his shoulder, pulling his arms through the shirt.

“It’s backwards,” she called, John letting out a frustrated noise as he pulled his arms back through the shirt and twisted it the right way. He stood as he tugged on his boots, cursing under his breath as Sadie jumped against the door, in obvious belief that their frenzied rush to the door was for her morning walk.

“Uh oh. Running late, I see?”

f*cking Cortana. He laced his boots while Violet grabbed Sadie by the collar, pulling her away from the door. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before slipping out of the door, forgoing the lift to run down the stairs.

“You didn’t get me up,” he hissed, stepping out of her building into the cool morning air.

“I’m not allowed in the bedroom, remember? Might want to start setting an alarm,” he could hear the smirk in her tone between his ears as he crossed the street to the park, “If you start running now, you can be there in 15.7 minutes. Better hurry.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He grumbled, breaking out into a run across the park towards the base.

“A little. Get a move on, lover boy.”

He arrived at the training facilities a full forty minutes late, still tugging at his PT clothes as he entered. He slipped in quietly, hoping the team was too preoccupied with their own morning exercises to notice his tardiness. He found all eyes on him as he entered, keeping his own forward as someone whistled from the back of the facilities. Kai looked up with a smirk, leaning against the squat rack as he approached.

“Look at who decided to show up,” she jeered, John rolling his eyes, “Get caught up with goodbye kisses?”

“Very funny.”

“Damn it!” He heard Riz call out, Vannak scoffing as he dropped his weights, “I’m not paying!”

“Like hell you aren’t! A bet’s a bet; you said he wouldn’t show up at all. I said he would be late. Pay up!” Riz groaned as Vannak let out a triumphant laugh, “You be late all you want, Chief. You just made me a hundred credits richer.”

“Glad to be of service,” he grumbled, starting his own morning exercises, hoping the others would follow suit.

Riz passed by him, smirking as she traveled to her next exercise, “Glad you could join us, Romeo.”

“Go to hell.”

Chapter 13: Meet the Parents

Chapter Text

The tongue lashing he had received from Admiral Keyes had been well deserved, in John’s opinion. Frankly, he felt as if he had gotten off easy for the near hour of lost time; Keyes had ripped him a new asshole after PT had wrapped for the morning about priorities, gruffly reminding John of his duties before sending him off to the showers after informing him that he still reeked of sex in far more colorful terminology. He’d take far worse for a few more moments beside her in that bed. He showered off quickly, avoiding the knowing stares and quips of the team as he dressed and set out to her office in an attempt to catch her before her workday started.

Violet stood behind her desk when he arrived at her office, hunched over her keyboard as she typed furiously, eyes locked on the monitor. She was far more polished than the last time he had saw her; now in her uniform, her hair slicked back into her tight bun. John found himself preferring her half-naked, wild-haired state of their rushed morning, wishing he had taken a few additional moments at the door to appreciate the sight of her. A paper drink carrier sat on her desk; two pale brown iced drinks with brightly colored straws sweating beside a large white paper cup nestled into it. He rapped his knuckles against the doorway, Violet looking up and smiling when she saw him.

“Hey, you,” she nodded towards the carrier, still typing feverishly, “I grabbed you a coffee on my way in. Figured you needed one after last night. I’m headed out in just a moment.”

Her fingers tapped against the keyboard before she straightened with a final clack, pulling her white coat off the back of the chair and tugging it on as she stepped out from behind her desk. She gathered the drink carrier as she crossed the room and joined him in the hall, “Share a lift with me? I’m headed upstairs.”

“So am I,” he said, matching her stride down the hallway as she balanced her items in her arms. She nodded to a few lab techs as they walked, wishing good mornings with a smile as they walked to the lift. She paid no mind to the lingering stares that seemed to follow them down the hallway, whispers being exchanged within labs at the sight of them. John shot them a look, the techs returning to their work quickly.

“Would you like me to say something?”

She shook her head. “They’ve been calling me Mrs. 117 since your last deployment. I don’t think they know that I know, though. I’ve been called worse. It gives them something to do, I guess,” she shrugged, pressing the call button and tapping her hip to his, “So, how much trouble did you get into?”

“I’m on toilet duty.”

Violet grimaced before she gave him a sympathetic smile, holding out the paper cup to him. John took the coffee from her, grateful for the bit of caffeine after the restless night before.

“We’ll set an alarm tonight,” she reassured, raising the carrier to sip from the yellow straw stabbed into the pale drink he assumed was coffee.

Her pad chirped, Violet holding the carrier out to him to hold as she shuffled the various items in her arms. He took it from her hands, looking over the assortment of markings on the cup that represented the various syrups and sauces pumped into the cup of sugar she called her morning coffee. Violet looked over the message, groaning as she read it. John looked over at her, watching as she chewed her lip, bangs in her eyes as she read over it again. Her whole body seemed to tense as she read, obviously distressed by whatever sat on the screen. The lift doors slid open, both stepping in. Violet tapped the button for her destination without looking up, John’s eyes not leaving her distressed face as he did the same.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Violet took a sharp breath through her nose, rolling her shoulders back as she exhaled. “My mother called this morning,” she gritted out, a forced smile screening across her face, “My parents have invited us over for dinner tomorrow night and she will not take no for an answer. This is her third message she’s sent asking me to confirm.”

“According to my findings, many dating experts agree that meeting the parents of a significant other is the natural next step in the progression of a relationship. By the rules of traditional courting etiquette, most romantic partners meet each other’s parents by the three month mark of the relationship. By my calculations, you met Violet approximately-.”

“Not now, Cortana.”

“Still not talking to me? What a shame.”

Violet groaned again as her comm line began to ring, turning her pad so that John could see the caller ID of ‘Mom’ across the screen. She tapped at the screen, accepting the call with a whisper of, “Her ears must be burning.”

“You’re avoiding me, Violet Renee,” Jane Harris’ voice called through the comm line before the call had fully connected. Violet rolled her eyes, sharing an annoyed look with John before responding. He appreciated the older woman’s efficiency when communicating; no frills or small talk. Just straight to the point. Violet did not appear to appreciate the direct nature of her mother’s communication in the same way he did; the botanist pinching the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut.

“I’m not avoiding you! I told you when you called forty minutes ago that I had to check with John and his schedule first,” Violet replied. “I just ran into him. I’ll get back to you in a bit, okay? I’m on a lift, I’m going to lose you.”

“You’re with him? Just ask him now. I want to go grocery shopping before it gets too busy.”

“It’s eight in the morning on a Thursday, mom,” she teased, “Who all is going to be crowding the grocery store? All the other retirees?”

“Watch your tone, young lady,” Jane warned, Violet straightening up at the reprimand. “You said you’re with him? Can he hear me? Hi, John. How are you, sweetheart?”

“Fine, ma’am,” he replied, Violet’s head falling to rest on his bicep as she rolled her eyes yet again, annoyance evident in her every action.

“Violet is making things difficult, so it’s probably best if I just ask you myself,” Jane stated, “We were hoping to have you both over for dinner tomorrow night. Would you both be available to join us? We would love to meet you.”

Violet muted the call, looking up to John, “You can tell her no. I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“Do you not want me to come?

“No,” she said quickly, pink spreading across her cheeks, “I do.”

“Then I will,” he said decisively, a small smile spreading across her face as she nodded.

“Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, trying to hide the pleased smile that lifted her lips as she unmuted the call, “That works for us, mom.”

“Oh, wonderful! We’re looking forward to it. Katie and Andy will be here with the kids, too. We’ll plan to eat at seven, if that works for you both.”

“Who are you on the phone with?” Bill Harris’ voice was muffled in the background as he spoke to his wife.

“Violet.”

“Oh, can you ask her if she watched that documentary I told her about? The one about the migration patterns of-.”

“Your father wants to know if you watched the documentary-.”

“I heard him,” Violet sighed out, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, dad. I have to go. I’m at work.”

“We will see you both tomorrow. Love you, sweetheart. Bye, John.”

“Love you,” Violet replied, terminating the call with a tap of a finger. She looked to John, the lift slowing as it reached her floor. She held out a hand for the drink carrier, John passing it back to her. Violet balanced it atop her pad, “You don’t have to go. I can make an excuse for you. I completely understand if you don’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” He asked.

Violet sighed, sipping from her drink again. She offered him a small smile, John returning it. “They can be overwhelming,” she said simply.

He chuckled, wondering if she truly understood the scope of what he had spent his life doing with her statement. He gave her free hand a squeeze, “I can handle overwhelming.”

She let out a disbelieving chuckle, “You’ve obviously never been around my family. We’ll see how you feel tomorrow night.”

The door swished open, John finding himself looking out into the hallways of the Spartan Research Division. He glanced down at the panel, wondering if he had pressed the wrong button, finding the level number lit up underneath the one he had pressed himself.

“Did you press the wrong floor?” He asked, Violet already stepping off the lift.

She shook her head, turning to face him from the other side of the doorway, “No. I’m meeting with Miranda this morning. She bought yesterday, so I’m up today.”

“Already on a first name basis with Doctor Keyes? I believe that’s a good sign.”

Doctor Keyes stepped out of one of the various labs on the level, smiling when she saw Violet by the lift. Violet pointed at her, face set into a hard line of mock disappointment as the young woman neared, pointing back at her in return.

“I have a bone to pick with you!” Violet called, her smile betraying her faux outrage. Keyes’ held out her hand as she neared her, Violet wiggling the second drink out of the carrier and holding it out to the other woman.

“Yeah? Get in line,” Keyes said, holding her hand out for her drink. Violet pulled it back out of her reach, Miranda narrowing her eyes at the botanist. “What did I do?”

“The novel you sent me didn’t include a pretty important detail,” Violet said, still holding the drink back.

“I gave you information on everything you have clearance for,” Miranda replied, still holding her hand out for her drink. Violet gave it a playful shake at her side, sipping from her own.

“Well, something, or should I say someone, that I don’t have clearance for made an appearance in my kitchen last night,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, Miranda’s eyes widening, “So, I assume you should fill me in on any other little surprises that might show up in my house in the middle of the night to introduce herself.”

Miranda sighed, “Of course she did.” Violet finally relented and handed over the coffee to the defeated scientist. Keyes’ eyes glanced up to John, the ghost of a smirk on her face. “My office? I have twenty minutes.”

Violet glanced at her watch, “I have the same.” She turned to the lift, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, “I’ll see you tonight.”

John squeezed her hand back, letting it drop as the lift doors began to swish shut. Violet and Miranda turned, the two women huddled close as they turned down the hallway to her office.

Summer had settled over the city in a blanket of heat, the evening sun warming his back as they walked the streets of uptown. John had never found himself in this part of New Alexandria, his hand in Violet’s as they walked the sidewalk. Sadie pulled ahead, John tightening his grip on her lead. The pup slowed her stride, stepping back to his side as they walked. He didn’t mind the heat, nor did he mind the thin dresses Violet had taken to slipping into after her showers when she got back from her evening runs. She walked beside him, green fabric swaying above her knees with each step. She stopped occasionally to point out a building or storefront, sharing a memory of her girlhood attached to each, their interlocked hands swinging between them.

Her childhood neighborhood had been a short train ride through the city, the streets changing from towering apartment buildings to neat rows of townhomes as they walked the blocks from the station to her parents’ home. He watched her relax the longer they walked, a peacefulness coming over her as she stepped into the shade of the oak trees that lined the sidewalks, the branches bowing in the breeze as if to welcome her home.

She gave his hand a squeeze as they neared another row of townhomes; all slate gray with wide windows that reflected the evening light. She stopped in front of one, the porch a similar collage of the various pots and planters that littered her own balcony. A young boy, no older than three, stood with his face to the second floor window, his little hands pressed to the glass as he watched the street below. Violet smiled and gave the boy a little wave, laughing softly when his face split into an excited smile at the sight of her. He turned, running into the house behind him. Violet turned back to John, both standing at the base of the steps that lead to the front door.

“Okay, what did I forget?” she murmured, chewing her lip in thought. She had spent the duration of the walk educating him on every idiosyncrasy her family possessed, John taking in each piece of knowledge like a directive.

“My mom is going to try to hug you. She has no sense of personal boundaries, so be prepared for that,” she reviewed, “My sister is here with her kids, and I’m fairly certain she’s my most sane family member. Her husband, Andy, is the most boring person I have ever met. Try not to get stuck alone with him unless you’re dying to know the current status of the trade markets and how they’re being affected by the war. I already have a second dinner in the fridge at home, so you can eat again when we get back tonight.”

Violet skipped up the few steps to the door to knock, her hair swinging behind her. He lingered on the sidewalk. Sadie sat beside him, panting happily as she watched Violet at the top of the steps. Violet turned back to him, offering him her hand. He reached forward, gripping her fingers, Violet giving his hand a tight squeeze, “If it gets to be too much at any time, you tell me and we’ll leave. Okay?”

“It’ll be fine, goose.”

“Chief, I believe this is a new experience for you. I have already compiled a collection of advice and suggestions from a variety of dating experts regarding meeting your significant other’s immediate family. Shall I read them to you?”

Violet looked back at John, matching the tilt of his head. “Tell Cortana to take the night off,” she called over her shoulder as she turned back to the door.

Cortana’s voice relented between his ears as she asked for his confirmation of Violet’s order. John dismissed her, Violet still watching from the top step. His mouth felt dry as she knocked again, Sadie whining with excitement. Violet turned to him again, offering him an encouraging smile and reaching her hand out for his again. John took her hand in his own, taking the few steps to stand beside her, Sadie sitting between them.

“They’re going to love you,” she said softly, brushing her thumb against the side of his hand.

“You sound sure of that.”

“I am.”

The door swung open, the boy from the window standing in the doorway with an excited smile. He reached his arms out to Violet with a shriek of, “Auntie Vi!”

Violet laughed, scooping the boy up into her arms. He squealed when she gave him a careful toss, holding him overhead and kissing his cheek before hugging him to her tightly. “Hi, buddy!”

The boy laughed again, Violet pressing another kiss to his mess of blonde curls before tossing him onto her hip. “I missed you!” she told the boy, “Did you have a fun day at Nana and Papa’s house?”

The boy nodded, little arms clinging to Violet’s neck. She turned to John with a smile, waving him in as she stepped into the house. Sadie pulled on the lead with a bark, John dropping it as she ran into the open doorway. The dog ran past Violet, disappearing up the stairs into the second floor of the townhouse. He could make out the voice of her mother as Sadie’s nails clicked against the floors out of sight.

“Oh, there’s Sadie.”

“They must be here,” a second woman said.

The boy tucked his head into Violet’s neck, shyly watching John as he entered the home. John looked over at the boy, the toddler turning his face away, hiding in the curtain of Violet’s hair.

“Don’t mind him. He’s a bit stranger-shy,” she explained with a chuckle, rubbing the boy’s back. The boy turned again, peeking at John curiously from behind her hair, his arms around her neck. “This is my nephew, Elliot.”

She tapped on the boy’s back, “This is Auntie’s friend, John. Can you say hi?”

The boy turned his face away again, Violet tucking a finger into his underarm and giving him a tickle. Elliot shrieked with laughter, Violet giggling and gesturing up the stairs, John following up the steps behind her.

“We’re here!” Violet called as she rounded the landing, John following a step behind.

The stairs gave way to the living room, the walls modestly decorated and adorned with picture frames and an assortment of framed artwork depicting birds in various styles. Sadie had made herself comfortable in one of the large armchairs that faced the sofa in front of a vacant fireplace, watching the three women in the kitchen across the way. Violet shifted Elliot on her hip as she leaned down to hug the woman John recognized as her mother from the video call. Jane Harris stood nearly six inches shorter than her daughter, Violet towering over the woman in a way he wasn’t accustomed to seeing from his much shorter botanist. She grabbed Violet’s face, pressing her red painted lips to her daughter’s cheek and leaving a stain that Violet promptly wiped off.

“Hey, mom,” Violet said, giving her mother a final squeeze before Jane released her, “I see we’re having the three year old getting the door now? What’s next? The one year old is going to start answering comm calls?”

“He’s been watching the windows for you all afternoon,” The other woman replied, bouncing a baby girl on her hip. John looked over to her, recognizing her as the woman in the white dress from Violet’s pictures; Katie. Violet smiled, turning to embrace her sister and kiss the baby on the head. The two women were as similar as they were in the photograph as they stood beside one another, save for Katie’s brown eyes and Violet’s few inches of height over her older sister. Jane Harris’ eyes fell to John, the same deep brown of her oldest daughter, but Violet’s smile split her face as she honed in on him with that same scrunch of the nose.

“You must be John!” she smiled, crossing the short distance across the kitchen with outstretched arms. He looked to Violet, who shrugged with an eye roll as her earlier warning was confirmed, mouthing an apology. Jane threw her arms around him, John leaning down to accommodate the older woman’s stature as he hugged her back uncomfortably. Jane released him, her hands on his arms as she smiled up at him, “Oh, we were so thrilled you could make it, sweetheart! Violet has such wonderful things to say about you. It’s wonderful to meet you in person.”

“You as well, ma’am.”

Jane patted his arms, giving him a final smile before she turned back to Violet. Her dark eyes fell to the neckline of Violet’s dress, tugging up the front of her dress as she spoke to her, “I am so happy that you are finally bringing someone around, Vi. You’re not getting any younger, you know. By thirty, a woman loses 90% of her eggs-.”

“Can you not talk about my eggs in front of my boyfriend , mother?” Violet gritted out through her clenched jaw, pushing her mother’s hands away. Her cheeks blossomed pink as she set Elliot onto the tile floor, tugging her dress back down to where it had sat originally much to John’s pleasure. The boy ran after Sadie, chasing her out the open patio doors, “Jesus Christ.”

“Why not? Since when am I not allowed to talk to my child about her body?”

“Because you met him less than three minutes ago?” Katie finished for Violet, giving their mother an incredulous look, “Do we really have to explain that? That’s so weird.”

Katie shook her head as Jane attempted to weakly argue with the both of them. Violet rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the baby with a smile. “Hi, John. I’m Katie,” she said, passing the baby to Violet who bounced her on her hip, “You’ve already met Elliot. That little one is Elise. My husband is somewhere around here.”

Violet glanced around the room, “Where is dad?”

Jane poured a glass of wine from the open bottle on the counter, holding it out to John, who politely declined. She held the same glass out to her daughter, Violet shifting the baby on her hip as she took it. “Andy caught your father in one of his lectures. They’re out in the yard.”

Violet stepped to the open patio door, waving down to the men John saw sitting in patio chairs together from behind her. They sat in the modest backyard below at the edge of the brick patio, facing the rectangular patch of manicured grass in. The yard was lined with planter boxes that spilled over with green and flowers, a large oak tree twisting and casting shadows over the yard, its knotted trunk wrapped in strands of yellow lights that strung from the tree to the house. Bill Harris waved back, the afternoon sun reflecting on the lenses of his glass as he smiled up at his daughter.

“Howdy, pops!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Bill called back, the man beside him raising a hand in greeting as well, “Be up in a few!”

Violet turned back into the house, adjusting the baby on her hip, making a sour face. “Someone needs a butt change,” she said, hooking a finger into the back of the baby’s pants and peering down it.

Katie held her arms out for the baby, “I figured it was about that time. I’ll take her.”

Violet waved a dismissive hand to her sister, “I’ve got it! You stay here with mom. I need to give John the grand tour, anyhow.”

Katie nodded, settling back against the counter with an appreciative smile. Violet waved John on, leading him towards the staircase on the far side of the living room. He followed her up the stairs to the third level of the home, Violet bouncing Elise and humming as they walked. She led him into the first room on the right, the bright room bathed in evening sunlight. A bed sat in the middle of the room, covered in an assortment of small pillows that appeared to do little for the overall comfort of the bed. A high table sat against one wall, a rocking chair tucked into the corner beside a crib, the floor littered with an assortment of brightly colored children’s toys. Violet pushed a stuffed duck to the side with her foot as she entered the room. John lingered in the doorway, watching her weave through the mess on the floor as if navigating a minefield.

“This was my old room,” Violet stated, smiling at the baby and lifting her up to blow a raspberry on her belly before laying her onto the high table. “And once you cross that threshold, you will officially be the first boy who has ever been in it. Congrats.”

“What an honor.”

“Oh, of the greatest kind,” she laughed, “Just don’t close the door or I’ll get grounded.”

He chuckled, looking away as Violet started to undress the baby, talking to her in a low, soft voice as she changed her. He busied himself with looking over the pictures framed on the walls in neat rows. Some contained pictures of Elliot and Elise, other frames contained pictures of Violet and Katie at various ages; dressed in sports uniforms or in school pictures. One of Violet’s military portraits sat in the center; an eighteen year old Violet in uniform, a flicker of the smile that seemed so everpresent on her lips despite the stoic expression she attempted to maintain for the picture. Another frame contained a picture of Violet more recently, dressed in a short sleeved UNSC branded tee and cargo pants inside of a polycarbonate greenhouse, drenched in too-bright artificial lighting. She sat on the ground before rows and rows of crops, arms outstretched happily, a prideful grin splitting her tearstained face as she smiled widely at the camera.

Violet looked over her shoulder before returning to wrestling with the kicking baby, “I see you found my mom’s shrine to us. Which one are you looking at?”

He pointed to the greenhouse picture, Violet squinting at it from across the room. She smiled, recognition flickering in her eyes. “That’s from my last assignment. I spent my first two years there researching and developing flash farming methods through ionic growth stimulation. That was my first successful attempt that went from seeds to a fully harvestable crop within twelve hours.”

“You’re crying,” he commented, looking again at the red that ringed her watery eyes in the picture.

“I cried for, like, four hours,” she laughed, “I was a disaster. It was the most exciting moment of my career. Can you hand me a diaper? They’re in the teal box.”

She pointed to the open closet doors, John following her finger to the box on the floor surrounded by a gathering of toys and impossibly small clothing. He pulled one from the box, reaching over to hand it to her. His eyes fell on the frame above the changed table; a family portrait similar to the few pictures he had seen on Violet’s shelves. Violet was dressed in the same yellow dress, standing beside Katie, dressed in white. Their parents stood beside Katie and a tall, thin man John assumed was Andy, an infant Elliot in his arms. A man stood beside Violet; deeply tanned with dark hair to his shoulders, his arm around Violet and his hand resting on her hip, wide smiles on both of their faces.

“Who is that?” The question left his mouth before he could think it through, Violet’s eyes following his own to the photograph. She let out a frustrated groan as she did the tabs on the diaper.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize my mom was still using that picture,” she said weakly, disdain dripping from each word, “That would be Devrin Johal. My ex boyfriend.”

“What happened?”

“He was a Covenant spy,” she said flatly, tugging the baby’s leggings back up and picking her up again. She turned to John with a smirk, finding him watching her with a blank expression. She giggled, the baby returning to her hip.

“Getting a lot of mileage out of that one, are you now?”

“I’m sorry, it’s too easy,” she laughed, blocking the baby’s hand as she reached for her earring, “No, we dated for a couple of years. We were both on the research team at my old assignment. We went up for the team lead position there, and when I got it, our relationship collapsed under the insurmountable weight of his fractured ego.”

John nodded, his eyes returning to the picture, unable to pull them away from where the man’s hand rested on her hip. They stayed on the image of her; that smile and the way her shoulder pressed against the long-haired man. Violet noticed the way he lingered on it, bumping her hip against him and pulling him from his stare. “It’s way in the rearview,” she assured him, “Just means we need to take new pictures for my mom to use.”

“You look happy,” he said, Elise babbling in her arms as she curled her fingers around the thin strap of Violet’s dress.

“I’m happier now,” she stated, moving Elise to her opposite hip and popping up on her toes to press her lips to his jaw. He leaned into the touch, fingers wrapping around the hand she pressed to his chest and touching his forehead to her own. Happy had been a fleeting emotion in his lifetime; lost to time and troublesome to remember, coming in moments few and far between. He assumed it felt something like this as he stood in her childhood bedroom, her hand in his as she looked up at him with those green eyes. He hoped the feeling lingered.

Bill and Andy had made their way into the living room when Violet and John descended the stairs. Sadie laid beside the spectacled man, her head in his lap as he absently stroked her back, listening to the other man continue to drone on. Bill glanced over her shoulder at the sound of feet on the steps, standing as Violet reached the last step.

“Hi, kiddo,” he smiled, pulling his daughter in for a hug. Violet hugged her father tightly before stepping to the side, John stepping off the last step beside her.

“Dad, this is John,” she said, bouncing Elise on her hip when the baby began to fuss.

Bill nodded, holding his hand out to John. John took it, his hand covering Bill’s as the ornithologist shook his hand.

“Doctor Harris,” he said, Cortana chirping at him about eye contact.

“Oh please, Doctor Harris is my daughter,” the older man joked, earning a smile from Violet, “Call me Bill. This is my son-in-law, Andy.”

The thin man offered John a wave and half smile from where he sat on the couch, Katie calling for her husband from the kitchen to help with taking dinner outside. Violet gave John’s arm a squeeze as she passed to the kitchen, asking her mother how she could help as she approached. Jane waved a dismissive hand as she piled Andy’s arms with dishes, both Violet and Katie taking the remaining in whatever arm wasn’t occupied by a child.

“Need any help, Janie?” Bill called to his wife, Jane shaking her head as she picked up the last bowl and made her way to the still open door.

“Don’t be long,” she called over her shoulder.

John found himself alone with Violet’s father in the living room, both men watching the other silently. John’s eyes darted to the door, hoping Violet would breeze in and continue the conversation with her father, but her laughter on the stairs confirmed he was on his own. Bill cleared his throat, watching John with the same green eyes of his daughter.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, son,” Bill said, “Violet speaks highly of you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Bill!” Jane called again, “Dinner is ready!”

“Be down in a second, Janie!” He called back, still watching John as if assessing the man in his home. He waved John on, “Let’s head down before I get in too much trouble. I assume the train in was alright?”

John nodded as he followed Bill out onto the patio stairs, Bill stopping to look down at the yard. John stopped beside him, watching as Katie and Jane set the umbrella covered table. Andy placed the last few pieces of serve ware onto the table, Violet still bouncing Elise on her hip as she talked with her sister. She smiled as she watched Elliot chase after Sadie, desperately grasping for the dog’s wagging tail. Bill removed his glasses, turning to face John again.

“John, this is the part of being a father to girls that I loathe, so I’d like to get it out of the way now if that’s alright with you,” he said kindly, John looking over to the balding man.

“My daughter is a good girl,” he stated, “Both of my girls are, but that one,” he gestured towards Violet, who had kicked off her white sneakers on the patio and taken to standing barefoot in the grass with Elliot, kneeling beside him as he pet Sadie, “She never stopped being my baby. So naturally, I’m protective of my daughter, as I’m sure you can understand.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I told my son-in-law the same thing I will tell you now, John; She is my little girl. She will be my little girl until the day I take my last breath. Whatever you do to her, I will do to you. All she needs to do is call me; morning, noon, or night and I am there. I expect that my daughter will be taken care of in the way she deserves. Do you understand me, son?”

John looked down at the balding man, Bill having to look up to meet John’s eye as he regarded the much larger man, the ornithologist's fierce words hanging between the two. Violet looked up from the yard, blocking the sun from her eyes with a hand. She gave John a quizzical look, raising her eyebrows when John looked back at her. She shook her head, calling up, “Dad, let him be!”

“We’re just talking, kiddo,” Bill called back, smiling at his daughter before returning his focus to John, “Do we understand one another, John?”

“Yes, sir.”

Bill clapped him on the arm, smiling up at him, “Good, I’m glad we could get that out of the way. Let’s eat.”

Bill turned to the stairs, taking them two at a time as he descended to the yard. John turned back to Violet, annoyance evident on her face as she looked up at him knowingly, shaking her head. John shrugged back at her, Violet stifling a laugh as he followed her father down the stairs. Jane called them all to the table, John slipping into the seat beside Violet. Katie leaned across the table to her sister, jerking her head towards John.

“Did Dad threaten him already? You’ve been here for a half hour!” She whispered.

Violet leaned over as plates started to be passed around, the family erupting into conversation as they dished food onto their plates. “Did my dad threaten you?” she whispered, her shoulder pressed to his.

“A threat would require me to be intimidated.”

She snorted out a laugh, the corner of his mouth lifting at the noise. “What, not afraid of Bill the Bird Doctor?”

“Not especially.”

Katie snickered across the table, taking the plate Violet passed to her. “He has the same line for every boyfriend. He thinks he sounds like a badass, but I’ve seen the guy cry during kids’ movies. Ignore him.”

“Sorry, I should have warned you. He likes to play the tough guy. And I haven’t exactly told them what you do, so,” Violet laughed, squeezing his knee under the table.

John found that Violet’s description of ‘overwhelming’ was quite apt for her family as they ate. He found himself listening and observing the way they all spoke to one another during the duration of the meal, or rather the way they spoke over each other. Elliot had seated himself in Violet’s lap as she ate , Violet blocking his fingers with her fork as they strayed to her plate, stopping occasionally to remind him of his own bright green plastic plate beside hers. Katie talked animatedly about her students, John learning that the woman taught at the same middle school Jane had once been an administrator in. Violet laughed and listened intently to her sister’s tales of adolescent antics, the happy sound bubbling from her. John took in the noise around him; the laughter, the competing voices, Sadie’s occasional bark at the dog on the other side of the fence and the toddler’s nonsensical talk that Violet seemed to understand. It was chaotic. It was overwhelming. It was loud and boisterous and alive and joyful. He watched Violet as she spoke, her eyes glowing as she laughed, her head tilting back as she snorted at the story her sister told, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

Katie turned to where John sat, laughter still twinkling in her eyes as they fell to her sister. Violet brought a forkful of food to her mouth, watching her sister warily as a mischievous grin split Katie’s face.

“John, has Violet ever told you the story about how she cut her first boyfriend’s lip with her braces and he had to get stitches?” Katie asked, giggling as Violet stopped mid-bite to give her a dirty look across the table.

“Katie, don’t embarrass your sister,” Jane sighed out.

“At least I didn’t give my first boyfriend giardia,” Violet retorted through a full mouth, Andy snorting out a laugh as his wife’s face twisted with displeasure.

“ He gave me giardia, Violet!”

“Okay sure, River Mouth.”

“ Girls .”

“She started it!” Violet protested.

“ Violet.”

“Sorry mom,” they spoke in unison, John getting the feeling that apologies to Jane at the dinner table were a common occurrence between the sisters.

Violet snickered when Katie made a show of scratching her nose with her middle finger, sipping from her wine glass. Bill cleared his throat in an attempt to remove his wife’s glare from his daughters, turning to Violet as he sipped from his own glass.

“So,” he started, setting his glass down as he turned his attention to John and Violet at the end of the table, “I don’t think you’ve told us how you two met yet, Vi.”

“We met at the park while I was walking Sadie,” Violet explained, all eyes at the table turning to them. “We then found out that we work together pretty soon after.”

“Oh, are you also a botanist?” Bill asked, looking to John. Violet looked to John curiously, a faint amused smirk crossing her face, John meeting her eyes before turning back to her father.

“No, sir. Spartan Division.”

Silence fell over the table at the statement, all eyes falling to John again as realization sunk into the adults surrounding it. Elliot babbled beside him, a chubby fist reaching to swipe food from Violet’s plate. Down the table, Bill sputtered as he choked on his drink, Jane patting her husband on the back as he coughed. Katie erupted into laughter as she looked back at her father.

“Dad used his ‘whatever you do to her, I’ll do to you’ line on a f*cking Spartan!” She gasped out, her laughter falling silent as she gripped her husband’s arm.

Violet snorted out a laugh at her sister’s hysterics, John meeting Bill’s eye at the end of the table. The older man raised his drink to John as he continued to catch his breath, John chuckling as Violet and Katie’s laughter grew. Violet’s laugh was punctuated with a snort as she turned to her father, “Still feeling like a tough guy, Pops?”

John sat with her father at the table after the dishes had been cleared away, listening to Bill tell stories about his time at the zoo. He had spent the past half hour telling John about how an eight year old Violet would spend days at the zoo, skipping school to go to work with her father and about the wonder she had addressed each thing there with. Bill shared how he would often find her bent over the different plants that sat in each aviary as part of the environments created for each species, Violet begging him to tell her the names of each over and over, repeating them as if they were magic words. He proudly shared that he had purchased Violet her first field book, having watched from the same patio they sat on now as his daughter carefully cataloged and recorded each plant in her mother’s garden. John hung to each word as he watched Violet in the yard where she played with Elliot.

Bill told his stories in the same passionate way Violet did; gesturing wildly with his hands and laughing at the punchlines of his own jokes before he ever delivered them. There was a familiar way to it, a comfort in the cadence in which he spoke that was so similar to the one he found when listening to Violet as she shared about her own day. John found an easiness to it as he listened to the man speak, no need for response as Bill spoke and shared and reminisced. He shared the same excitement for his field that Violet did for hers; a trait she had inherited from her father. He wondered what he might have inherited from his own.

“Bill!” Jane called from the house, the older man rising from the chair with a grunt before he nodded to John.

Violet had returned to the grass after dinner, her feet grass stained and splattered with earth as she played with her nephew. John watched as she kicked a ball for Sadie, the dog racing after it as the boy squealed in delight and clapped happily when the dog brought it back to his feet. Her niece sat on her hip again, Violet bouncing the baby along to the music playing from the house, singing along to the song.

Katie slipped into the chair beside him, crossing a leg over the other as she followed his eyes to the yard, joining him in watching her sister play with her children. They sat quietly for a moment, the only sounds floating through the yard that of the song Violet sang along to and the boy’s laughter.

“It’s good to see her happy,” Katie said to John, her eyes not leaving her children. Violet kicked the ball again, Elliot erupting into another peal of laughter as Sadie trailed after it, “I worried the move back would be hard on her. She loved being out in the field. It’s been nice to see her smile so much. Being around the kids has been great for her.”

“She’s good with them,” he agreed, Violet pressing a kiss to Elize’s cheek.

Katie nodded in agreement, “She’s the best aunt. She’s loved those kids since the moment they were both born. She didn’t let her job keep her from either of them; she would call daily to check in and see them. Since she got back on Reach, she’s been over nearly every weekend to see them. She’s one of the greatest people I’ve ever met. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

John chuckled, turning to look over at Katie. The woman smiled back at him, dishes clinking above head through the open kitchen window. “You picked a good one, you know,” Katie stated.

“I know,” he replied. He didn’t need to be told that. He simply knew.

Katie nodded, her eyes returning to where Violet played with the children. She kneeled beside Elliot as he patted Sadie’s back, softly reminding him to use gentle hands, Sadie panting as she laid out in the grass.

“I always thought she’d be the first to have kids,” Katie confessed, “She just gets it. The kindness, the patience. Hell, I’ve been teaching for a third of my life and she still blows me out of the water. She sees the value in things. She’s been that way since we were little; she’s always been able to find the beauty in everything. Every part of her was meant to be a mom.”

John watched her, finding himself agreeing with each of her sister’s statements. She was everything Katie said she was; warm and kind and lovely and all of the things he was not. His thoughts strayed to the family picture in her old bedroom, the long-haired botanist’s hand on her hip as she smiled; happy . She deserved this . She deserved everything around that table; a home and kids, the stability and normalcy that came with it that he had never known. A predictability without interruption that came at a moment's notice that he didn’t know himself to be able to provide. He remembered the feeling that came to him in his memories, the feeling that had come to him as he stood in the ruins of his childhood home. The same warmth, the same comfort, the same joy that had radiated around that table as she ate and laughed with her family. The same feeling in his chest he felt when he looked at her.

Violet’s laughter was punctuated with a snort as Elliot threw himself onto her, his hands on her cheeks as his own squeaky laugh shook his body. He watched her; her head tilted back as she laughed, that scrunch of her nose as she smiled that bright smile, the way she drew the boy closer to her to kiss his cheeks. Cortana had identified the feeling for him that day in the hangar as his hand slid out of hers, and he identified it himself as he sat there, unable to focus on anything but her in the warm glow of the lights in the trees.

Love.

God, how he loved her.

Katie shifted in her seat beside him, both watching Violet follow behind Elliot as he chased the dog. Violet glanced over her shoulder, catching his eye and flashing one of those smiles he felt right in his gut. He returned it, watching her return her attention to the boy. Katie turned to face him again, uncrossing and recrossing her legs.

“Violet loves so big. She always has,” Katie said. She reached over, squeezing his knee. John was fairly certain he had never been touched by this many strangers before in his life. Katie gave it a pat before she sat back with a smile, “I think she really loves you, too.”

He hoped she did. John nodded, his eyes returning to Violet. Katie smiled again, standing up from her chair and calling for Elliot. The boy looked to his mother, still holding Violet’s hand as they stood barefoot in the grass. Katie waved him over, stating that it was time to go home, the boy beginning to protest as he threw himself against Violet’s leg. Violet put a hand on the boy’s back, sharing an exaggerated pout with her sister before bending down, speaking to him softly as she rubbed his back. Katie shook her head, turning back to John.

“So, with that being said, don’t break her heart. Or my dad will kick your ass,” she teased, John chuckling.

Violet crossed the yard, carrying Elise back to her mother with a series of bounces, holding Elliot’s hand as they walked and giving his arm a wiggle, earning a few giggles from the pouting child. Elliot leaned into his mother’s outstretched arms, releasing his grip on Violet’s hand as Katie took him from her. Katie brushed his hair out of his eyes, speaking softly to the boy while Violet passed the baby back.

“Ready to go home?” Katie asked, Elliot dropping his head against his mother’s legs with an unhappy huff. Katie rolled her eyes, looking back to her sister and John. “It was nice to meet you, John. I hope we get to see you again,” she glanced up at the skies, the first stars of the night twinkling into existence above them before she looked back to him, “Be safe out there.”

John nodded, Katie offering him a final smile before turning to hug her sister. She whispered something to Violet, a smile splitting her face as she hugged Katie back with a laugh.

“I do too,” Violet whispered back, kissing her sister’s cheek, “Call me tomorrow. Go quick. Before the meltdown starts.”

Katie gave them both a small wave before she turned towards the patio stairs, Elliot fussing as he trailed behind her. Violet stretched her shoulders with a sigh, turning to where John sat, the two alone in the backyard. The yellow glow of the lights drew long shadows across the bricks of the patio, Violet slipping into his lap and settling against his chest. The song changed in the kitchen, the muffled voices of Katie’s family saying their goodbyes floating from the window. He watched the evening breeze rustle the leaves of the tree, Sadie rolling on to her back. Inside, Elliot shrieked out Violet’s name, John assuming that the meltdown Violet had warned her sister of had commenced. Violet laughed, taking his hand and toying with his fingers.

“Do you want that?” he asked, watching the grass where she had played with the boy and baby. Violet set her head on his shoulder, her eyes following his to the yard. Sadie laid on her side in the shade of the oak tree, dusky light crawling across the backyard.

“Want what?” she asked, the breeze rustling the branches of the tree again.

“Kids.”

Violet looked up at him, those green eyes finding his. He stiffened as he awaited her response, unsure of exactly where the tension stemmed from as he looked down at her. He knew his life in two parts; the time before her and the time now. He had never known fear before; terror had been trained out of him as a boy. But as he sat there watching her glowing in the lights, he never feared anything more than knowing a time without her again. She smiled up at him, soft and warm as she nodded, “Yeah. I do. Do you?”

Her response caught his breath in his throat, settling into him like a heavy weight.

“I haven’t thought about it.”

Chapter 14: Eavesdropping

Chapter Text

Violet kicked herself for leaving her jacket in her office.

The chill of the overly air conditioned greenhouse lingered in her bones long after she departed the Rock. She spent her morning on the climbing walls, dressed in the thin tee shirt she left in her locker. She muttered out curses when she realized that the pullover she usually stored within sat neatly folded on her bed after being washed the night prior, slamming her locker door in frustration. She had tried to move as much as possible on the wall; breathing hot air into her hands and rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm herself each time she had to stop moving as the fans whirred overhead. She found no such luck, still shivering in her uniform and lab coat as she walked the short distance from the greenhouses to the lift.

She checked her communications inbox as she rode the lift up, groaning as she scrolled through the stream that had piled up during her time on the wall. Violet considered riding the lift back down to the greenhouses and hiding out in the Jungle for the afternoon in an attempt to avoid the seemingly never ending messages and sun herself like a lizard in the sticky heat.

Instead, she sighed as she hit the button for the level the mess hall sat on, deciding that a hot cup of coffee was needed to fight the lingering chill and help her power through her inbox when she got back to her office. She debated keeping her office lights turned off when she returned and pretending she wasn’t there in an attempt to get caught up without Lorelei interrupting.

She scrolled through her message thread with John as the lift whirred, his last message wishing her a good morning at 4:06 that morning sitting at the bottom. He had served his mandatory nights on base concurrently that week, Violet finding that her bed felt far too big without him beside her as she slept. Miranda had come over the night prior for the season finale of the reality dating show they both consumed, John volunteering to stay on base so he wouldn’t have to listen to her ‘trash’, as he so lovingly called it. Violet would roll her eyes at his begrudging comments each time she turned it on, knowing he would find reasons to linger in the kitchen as she watched, asking questions about each contestant and pretending not to care about her answers.

They exchanged messages through the night, Miranda threatening to take her pad away and comparing them to lovesick teenagers with a roll of her brown eyes from where she sat on the other side of the sofa. Violet had only rolled her eyes in return before wishing him a goodnight, wishing he had been in their bed instead of in the barracks before she turned her focus back to the confessional interview of the losing contestant, who sobbed over her love for a man she had known for less than a month.

She tapped out a quick message as the lift came to a stop, stepping out into the hallway.

Violet Harris: Hey, big guy. Sadie missed you last night. Still planning to come over tonight?

His reply came moments later, Violet smiling as she tapped on the message.

117: Oh yeah? Just Sadie?

Violet Harris: Maybe I did too… Guess you need to come find out just how much tonight.

117: Couldn’t keep me away if you tried, goose.

Violet Harris: Like I would try. Meet at my office at 5? :-)

117: See you then.

117: :-)

Violet flicked the display of her pad off, lips still turned up as she tucked it against her hip. She turned into the mess hall with a groan, finding it completely packed with the lunch rush, a sea of uniforms filling every open seat. She made her way through the maze of bodies and metal tables to the far side of the room where the coffee pots sat, apologizing as she bumped shoulders with others. She filled a paper cup from the pot, appreciating the warmth that oozed from its walls into her chilled hands. She wrinkled her nose as the overly burned aroma of the liquid hit her nose, reaching for the tiny cups of creamer that sat by the coffee pots. She had no idea how John drank his black, Violet pouring packet after packet of cream and sugar into the cup to chase away the taste.

The low roar of conversation filled the room behind her as she prepared her coffee, adding another packet of creamer when her coffee didn’t turn to the light color she preferred. Laughter erupted from nearby, Violet peeking over her shoulder to the table behind her. Four women sat together, all young and fresh faced in their uniforms, Violet assuming that they couldn’t be more than a couple of years out of basic training. She was reminded of herself when she first enlisted; bright-eyed and determined to save the world until her service commitment lapsed and she earned the full scope of her GI Bill. The women laughed again, trays left forgotten in front of them as they talked.

“Okay, so Aide said Karim. What about you, Gustafson? Which Spartan would you f*ck?”

Violet ears pricked up at the question, the women snickering again as they turned to face the blonde woman at the table. The blonde chewed her lip, carefully considering her response as her friends leaned towards her awaiting her response. “Oh, I know,” she gasped out with a snap of her fingers, “I choose Jorge. That’s my answer.”

There was a series of agreeing noises that followed the statement, Violet holding back a smile as she looked around for the travel cup lids, laughter bubbling from the group again. The foursome continued with their raunchy conversation, the discussion turning from preferred sexual partners to what they believed each Spartan male’s penis to look like.

“I mean, they’re huge,” one woman said, snickered, “So you know they have to have, like, monster dicks.”

“I don’t even care,” another replied through a mouthful of food, “He could split me in half and I would thank him for it. It would be so worth it.”

Violet held back a laugh at the crass statement, giving her coffee a quick stir before bringing the black plastic lid she had found to the mouth of the cup. She groaned as she aligned the lid, finding that she had picked up the wrong size and resuming her search in the cabinet below the coffee pots, pilfering through the plastic sleeves of unused cups. The young marines turned to the fourth woman at the table, who had sat quietly during the conversation, seemingly trying to keep out of the vulgar chat by picking at her lunch. Violet’s fingers curled around the sleeve of lids, pulling them out and restocking the empty spot on the counter before taking one for herself.

“What about you, Perez?” the blonde woman asked.

The dark haired woman looked up from her tray, brown eyes wide as she shook her head, “Oh, I don’t-.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t be a prude. Which one would you f*ck?” another woman persisted.

“God, don’t involve me in this please,” Perez groaned, stabbing at her lunch with her fork, “You guys are so gross.”

“My money is on the Master Chief,” one of the girls giggled, her voice sing-song as Perez sputtered. The table erupted into giggles, Violet’s back to them as she made an amused face at the mention of John, suddenly interested in hearing the rest of the conversation.

“I wouldn’t f*ck him!” Perez sputtered out, Violet sure the poor girl was bright red from the embarrassment in her tone, “I’m just saying that it wouldn’t be terrible to get to know him better!”

“Of course she chooses her knight in shining armor!”

“He’s a good man! I just think he could use a friend, you know?”

“Oh please, you’ve been obsessed with him since Sanctuary. Just admit that you have a fat crush on him already.”

“I do not! And I’m not obsessed with him; he saved my life.” She amended, Violet making a note to ask John for the details of his rescue of the young marine later, “He seems lonely… he has sad eyes.”

Violet nodded in agreement, snapping the lid onto her drink. He did have sad eyes, now that she thought about it. She made herself look busy as she cleaned up the littering of sugar and creamer packets she had left on the tabletop, hoping to catch the conclusion of the conversation before it became too noticeable that she was so obviously eavesdropping on the group of women who talked so openly about f*cking her boyfriend and his fellow Spartans in a crowded cafeteria.

“Oh my god, you’re so boring. I didn’t ask if you’d fix him, I asked if you’d f*ck him,” one of the women sighed.

“Fine! I would,” Perez snapped, lowering her voice, “Happy?”

A chorus of snickers and cheers confirmed her friends’ satisfaction at the forced confession, Violet feeling a tinge of sympathy for the poor girl as her friends continued to talk. Violet swept the small collection of trash into her palm, tossing it into the trash bin before seizing her coffee and stepping to the side, having heard enough of the locker room gone mess hall conversation between the marines. She leaned against the countertop, looking over the packed room again and tracking the easiest path through the crowd back to the lifts. She sipped at her coffee, nose wrinkling again at the still too bitter taste.

She could see the group of women from where she stood; the blonde woman still laughing as she leaned over to the woman beside her, bumping her with her shoulder. The dark haired woman rolled her eyes, the name tape on her uniform confirming her as Perez; the unwilling victim of her friends’ teasing.

“Don’t let Mrs. 117 hear you,” the blonde teased, ceasing her poking at her friend for a moment to take a bite of her own lunch.

Perez’s eyebrows raised, Violet rolling her eyes herself at the uncreative nickname that she had heard whispered in the department hallways and greenhouses over the past couple of weeks. She had expected something a bit more inspired. Perez tilted her head at the blonde, Violet identifying her as Gustafson from a quick peek at her uniform, taking a bite of her own meal, “Who?”

Gustafson nearly dropped her fork in her rush to jump into the gossip, leaning across the table. “Oh my god, Talia,” she mumbled out through a full mouth, quickly chewing and swallowing down the bite, “Did you seriously not hear? Everyone has been talking about it.”

“Obviously I haven’t,” she snapped back, “Are you going to tell me or what?”

Gustafson let out an excited gasp, wiggling slightly in her seat, “The Master Chief kissed some scientist down in Hangar 4 right before Silver Team deployed, like, two weeks ago. The lucky bitch.”

Violet sipped from her cup again, brows raising as she listened. She wasn’t used to being the center of mess hall gossip, but couldn’t deny that listening had been the highlight of an otherwise uneventful day. She stifled a chuckle as the girls erupted into conversation again, Perez’s eyes popping at the statement. Oh my god, she thought, he is so going to hear about this when we get home.

“Oh, I heard about that! I heard they totally made out,” the third woman said.

“They didn’t make out. Evans was there and told me about it. It was, like, one kiss.” the fourth woman piped up.

Violet shrugged slightly in confirmation from where she stood observing, thankful that Evans, whoever they were, was at least giving a factual synopsis of what had taken place. An officer approached the coffee pot, looking between where Violet leaned against the counter sipping from her cup and the half full pot in question. Violet gave him an apologetic smile before stepping to the side, deciding that she had been nosey enough for an afternoon. She slid her pad off of the counter, giving the officer a final nod before pushing off of the low counter. Violet opened her communications inbox, swiping through the messages that had piled up as she walked towards the table, unavoidable as she navigated the dwindling crowds.

The three and their unwilling companion had changed the topic of their conversation to a rather involved discussion of what positions they suspected she and John may use in bed. Violet found that their assumptions weren’t too far off, taking note of a few of the more imaginative ones for later. Gustafson glanced up as she laughed, eyes meeting Violet’s before falling back to her friends. Realization crept over her face as she looked back up at Violet. Violet kept her eyes on her pad as she neared, fighting back the smirk that threatened to curl her lips.

“Wait, I think that’s her,” Gustafson whispered, tapping Perez on the arm.

“Oh my god, shut up! Has she been there this whole time?” another woman whispered, the table falling silent as Violet sauntered past.

“Good afternoon,” Violet smirked, the marines mumbling out their replies as she breezed by, faces flushed with embarrassment and eyes wide as they followed Violet.

“You guys f*cking suck,” she heard Perez mutter out, Violet finally allowing herself to snort out a laugh as she walked towards the lifts.

Keeping the lights off had proven to be a successful strategy, Violet tapping away at her keyboard in the blue glow of her screen. She sent off her reply to the head horticulturist in charge of Audrey’s keeping, confirming her receipt of the incident reports for Audrey’s latest bite. She sighed, sitting back in her chair and rubbing the heel of her palms into her aching eyes before returning to her inbox. She clicked on one from her direct supervisor, the date of the upcoming board of directors meeting serving as the subject line, the agenda for the meeting attached to the message.

Violet clicked on the agenda, reading over the itinerary for the three days of meetings she would be attending the following week in the upper levels of FLEETCOM. She had attended the meetings in the years prior as a representative of her previous assignment, sharing with the department heads the findings and status of their research, never imagining that she would be sitting on the other side of the table. She read over the agenda, seeing her own name printed alongside the head of the biology department on the line item outlining their presentation on the development of their joint project of the pain management drug. She felt her heart drop as she read over the next line item, her mouth dry as she leaned forward to read it again;

“Representatives from the Demeter Project, Doctors Devrin R. Johal and Meredith Powell, will be in attendance to share current developments and research regarding the project and implementation of the Persephone System with the Board of Directors.”

She read over the sentence again. And again. And again. The name left her mouth dry, her fingers hovering over the keyboard and tension pounding behind her eyes. The tinge of joy she had felt reading over Meredith’s name was fleeting as she reread the sentence, Devrin’s name chasing away the excitement she felt as she read her best friend’s name.

“You’ve got to be f*cking kidding me,” she whispered, reading over the message a fifth time just to be sure she wasn’t imagining his name printed on the screen.

Her thoughts strayed to the final year she spent on that dusty little planet. Their breakup had been disastrous. Violet recalled every fight between the two of them; the way he would show up to her room once every couple of weeks to grovel for her forgiveness, the tears she had shed in front of Meredith, the way they had gone to battle professionally as their relationship fell apart, both determined to prove themselves better than the other.

It had been petty. It had been ugly and juvenile. She had hated the person she became; spiteful and angry. She had allowed him to make her that way, leaving Violet unsure if her anger had ever been with Dev, or if it had been with herself for allowing him to take herself from her. Her therapist certainly had a few theories. She had jumped at the promotion when it had been presented to her. It had been an opportunity to leave Devrin behind, even if it meant leaving the research and methods she had devoted herself to as well. She could replicate the research, she had told herself, she could find new methods. She could find worth in her career again elsewhere. It would be a hell of a lot harder to find Violet again if she had stayed and continued to wilt. She saw it as an opportunity to regain the woman she lost on that planet. She had cursed Dev for the longest time, that same anger now festering in her gut again as she read over his name.

She recalled the way John had looked over the picture from Katie’s wedding as they stood in her childhood bedroom; the way he had stiffened at the sight of Dev’s hand on her waist and the way he continued to stiffen at the sight of it in the subsequent times they had returned to her parents’ house for dinner since. Her mom had taken it down after the second forceful reminder from Violet, carefully cropping Dev out of the picture before hanging it again in a smaller frame. Jane fiercely countered to Violet that she refused to take down a picture that her hair had looked so nice in, but that she would do it for John, Violet convinced that her boyfriend had become her mother’s new favorite child in the few times he had been over for dinner.

Violet reminded John each time that she was happier now, squeezing his hand when his eyes lingered on it, and she meant it. Things with him were easy, they were organic; the way it had never been with Devrin. He was just John, and she was just Violet, and it was enough. He saw her; every bit of herself that she had thought she lost in her anger. That anger left her as she stood beside a pond on a spring evening, watching a stranger throw a ball for her dog. John brought a peace that lingered far beyond their time together; a warmth like she stepped in front of a roaring fire. She never wanted to step away from it, finding herself again in the glow of his embers.

She was happier. He was her happy.

She’d be even happier if she made it through the next week without strangling her dickhe*d ex.

The park had become increasingly more occupied as the warm temperatures stuck around, families lingering into the evenings as the sunset fell later each day. Violet wove around a grouping of teenagers standing in the middle of the walking paths as she ran, her feet pounding against the pavement. Her music blared in her ears as she ran; a collection of gritty hard rock acting as her selection for the evening. She had difficulty hearing it over the sound of her own breath heaving in her chest as she tried to keep pace with John, sweat covering her body in a thin layer that plastered her bangs to her forehead. He jogged ahead of her, a light sweat clinging his shirt to his back, Violet in a near sprint to keep up with him. Sadie ran between her and John to check in with the panting woman before returning to her new running partner’s side.

John had met her at her office promptly at five, overnight bag in hand, Violet teasing him about how it was her custody swap day with the UNSC. He opted to join her and Sadie for their evening run when they returned to the apartment. Violet noticed the effort he had gone to keep pace with her as they started their run, appreciating foe he practically speed walked beside her before she told him that he didn’t need to stay with her. She had regretted the statement as soon as he broke out into a jog, Violet’s legs screaming at her to stop as she finished her fourth lap around the pond and John began his eighth. She had planned to bring up the Devrin Dilemma, as Miranda had dubbed it after she ran up to her office to vent, as they ran. But his augmented athleticism had prevented her from being able to do so, Violet’s chest heaving and mouth dry.

“John,” Violet gasped out, shuffling to a stop beside the pond. She folded her hands atop her head as she gulped in air, still trying to catch her breath as he came to a stop himself. He turned, jogging back to where she stood.

“You good, goose?”

She nodded, taking another deep breath, “I’m good. Just give me a second to catch my breath.”

He nodded, Violet flopping over to rest her hands on her thighs as she stretched her legs. John whistled for Sadie, who had occupied herself with barking at the geese on the pond, the dog bounding over to where he stood now with her orange ball in hand. Violet questioned how the dog still had a modicum of energy as she straightened up, glancing over at the pond. The geese bobbed on the water, now painted in a tapestry of orangey hues by the setting sun, honking to one another as they dipped long necks into the water and rustled their feathers. Sadie leapt excitedly towards the ball, John giving it a hard bounce against the ground before tossing it for the dog and sending it whizzing over the grasses.

Violet stepped to his side, wiping sweat from her brow as she watched Sadie chase after the ball. The ball bounced against the ground, Sadie leaping up to snatch it out of the air before starting her victorious run back to John. He placed his hand on her back as she took her place beside him, thumb brushing against the thin fabric of her tank top.

Violet leaned into him, John giving her hip a squeeze before he crouched down to take the ball from Sadie, who dropped it beside his outstretched palm. Violet chewed her lip, the Devrin Dilemma on her tongue as she stood there, unwilling to bring herself to share the news she had loathed to tell him since she received the email. She swallowed it down.

“I heard an interesting conversation in the mess today,” she said instead, watching him launch the ball across the field again, Sadie bouncing after it.

“Yeah? What about?”

She smirked, tapping her foot against his ankle, “Oh, just a rather riveting conversation between enlistees about which Spartan they would take for a ride. Seems you have quite the little fan club, Master Chief.”

He scoffed, looking over at Violet, “You sound jealous, goose.”

She laughed, shaking her head, “Not in the slightest. I was in my early twenties once; I remember how those conversations went. One of them in particular had a pretty interesting take on her answer, though. Last name Perez, I think? Something about you saving her life back on Sanctuary?”

John nodded knowingly as he leaned down to take the ball from Sadie again, giving it an overhanded toss. “Corporal Perez,” he confirmed, watching Sadie chase after the ball, “I’m familiar.”

“Seems like she has quite the crush on you,” Violet teased, “Care to share?”

John rolled his eyes, earning a snicker from Violet. He launched into the story of the glassed planet and communications team slayed by Covenant forces hunting in the thick fog. Violet felt her heart drop with every word, dread and shame settling into her as she came to regret her teasing of the traumatized girl. Horror crept through her with each word he spoke, John recalling the events the same way someone would summarize the evening news to a stranger. He maintained an air of casualty to the story, but his tensed shoulders betrayed him as he spoke. She could tell that what had happened there had affected him far beyond the details he recounted as if he was reading directly from a report.

Her blood chilled in her veins as he spoke, trying to wrap her mind around the terror that poor girl had felt. The terror of the villagers as they ran for safety aboard the transports. Her own terror for John. The Devrin Dilemma vanished from her mind as she stood beside him, recognizing the gravity of who shared her bed, confronted with the dangers that looked beyond the atmosphere of Reach each time he departed from it. Violet swallowed, pulling her eyes from Sadie to look up to him.

“When was this?” She whispered, eyes fixed on him as he threw the ball again.

“A couple of months before I met you.”

“Are they all…” she swallowed, searching for the right words for the horrors he had described, “Is every time you leave like that ?”

He shrugged, “Some are worse, some are better.”

The story settled into her as she stood beside the pond. Violet shook her head as if to clear the thoughts from her mind. She had tried to avoid the reality of each deployment, busying herself in an attempt to not face the fear she carried each time he disappeared into the stars. She stood beside him, confronted with the gravity of it all. Of what he did. Of who he was. She had seen his likeness on propaganda for years; the symbol of the UNSC that had drawn so many like herself to the service. She had never imagined that the man in the armor would have become this to her; he had been a figment of legend so grandiose that he seemed almost unreal before she met him beside the pond. The Master Chief was death incarnate; lethality perfected beyond reason. Not the man who jogged with her in the park, not the man who feigned disinterest in her reality shows, not the man who snored in her ear as they slept and would kiss her forehead before he slipped out of bed each morning.

He was her John. But to the galaxy, he was the Master Chief. He was strength. He was security. He was hope . A defender and prprotector. He brought that to every planet he defended, to each person he saved. And she loved him all the more for it.

Her hand slipped into his, John giving it a squeeze. Violet leaned against him, memorizing the way his body felt pressed to hers as they stood beside the pond. Silence passed between the two, Sadie still trotting to where the hall had landed last. The dog returned, John crouching down to hold out his hand to her. Violet cleared her throat, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to release the tension that had formed there. John looked up to her, Violet smiling down at him.

“So you carried her back to the ship, huh?” Violet smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood, John tossing the ball for Sadie again.

“She wasn’t in a position to walk herself,” he said with a shrug. Sadie bounded back to him, dropping the ball in his outstretched hand. John scratched her head, a look of pride coming over him at the simple command he had spent the past week getting the stubborn pup to submit to, “Good girl.”

“Well no wonder the poor thing fell in love,” Violet snickered, John looking over at her in question as he threw the ball again.

“What do you mean?”

“Having your life saved by the Master Chief only for him to carry your unconscious body to safety in his big strong arms? Why, it’s only the stuff romance novels are made of,” she said theatrically, making a show of pressing her hand to her forehead dramatically. John rolled his eyes, a smirk creeping across his face as Sadie brought back the ball. Violet laughed again, “Oh, please, Master Chief! Save me! I’m but a damsel in distress!”

“Have I ever told you how annoying you are?”

“Once or twice,” she laughed, John straightening up with a shake of his head as she continued to tease. “I’m a little offended. You’ve never carried me like that before.”

“You’ve never been knocked unconscious while fighting off Covenant forces on a planet that was actively being glassed, Vi.”

“Ah, so you admit it. Your love for me knows limits after all,” she teased.

She snapped her mouth shut at the statement as she realized what she had said. Her face felt hot as she looked to where John stood, stopping midthrow as her words hit his ears. He met her eye, his arm still raised as he looked at her. Silence passed between them, Violet desperately finding a way to amend the blurted statement before he could respond. But John just smiled that smile that made her chest feel too small, chuckling as he shook his head and threw the ball for Sadie again.

“There isn’t a single limit to it, goose,” he said softly, “Not a damn one.”

Violet cheeks burned red as she smiled, biting her lip as her eyes fell to her bright pink sneakers. Sadie sprinted ahead of them to where the orange ball touched down in the grass, turning as she snapped it up in her mouth. Violet felt his arm snake around her waist, gasping out a surprised breath as he lifted her off of her feet and tossed her over his shoulder, his arm locked around her thighs as he started to walk back to the paths. She yelped out a giggle, pressing her hands to his back and puffing her bangs out of her eyes.

“John!” She laughed, kicking her feet, “Put me down! Your back is so sweaty!”

“Nope,” he said, Violet hearing the smile in his tone as he walked, whistling for Sadie, “Let’s go home.”

Sadie bounded to his side as he walked towards the white building by the pond, Violet still laughing as she attempted to wiggle out of his grasp. She relented her halfhearted protest, folding her arms against the damp fabric of his shirt and resting her cheek against them. She gently scratched her nails against his back, muscles shifting under her with his every step. She watched the park behind them, the geese upside down on the pond as they slid across the water, Sadie trotting beside them. She closed her eyes, sighing softly as he brushed his thumb along the underside of her thigh. She really was happier. The happiest she had ever been.

She’d tell him about the meeting after dinner. She wanted to live this warmth for just a bit longer.

Chapter 15: Confessions

Chapter Text

Routine had been a part of being a Spartan for as long as John could remember. His life had been scheduled out to the minute, leaving little room for minutiae. It had always made sense to him. He found comfort in knowing exactly what came next. He hadn’t expected to find that same comfort within the walls of Violet’s apartment as they created their own routines. He relished in the minutiae that came with the newfound schedule that began promptly at five in the evening.

It was predictable and expected. He came to rely on their walks from FLEETCOM to the transit station, the chatter on the train and the easy silence they would stand in beside one another. They would take Sadie for a run, Violet would shower and he would often join her until the water ran cold. Dinner would be prepared side by side at the same time each night, Violet would sing along to the same songs as she sipped from her glass of wine, and they would eat on the couch as they debriefed one another on their days. It was peaceful. It was still. It was easy. Everything seemed to be easy with her.

John cleared their dinner plates from the coffee table as Violet flicked through the channels, selecting whatever background noise they would put on for the night. He watched from the kitchen as she made her selection, tugging the plush butter yellow blanket that resided on the back of the sofa over her legs. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, slouching down onto the sofa with her bare feet kicked up onto the coffee table. John scoffed, knowing exactly what would come from her posturing on the couch combined with her heavy eyelids.

“No,” he shook his head, gesturing with a finger for her to sit back up as he crossed the living room, “Don’t do that. Sit up.”

“What?” She scoffed, tucking the blanket around her legs as she gave him an incredulous look.

“You’re going to fall asleep and I’m going to be stuck watching this on my own like always,” he stated, settling into the couch beside where she sat slouched in her seat, legs tucked under her. She laughed at the statement, continuing to settle under the blanket.

“What do you mean ‘always’? I don’t do that!” She argued, swatting his arm before continuing to cocoon herself in the blanket.

John turned to face her with an ‘are you sh*tting me’ stare, prepared to recount the last four times in his recent memory he had looked over to find her asleep beside him ten minutes into the movie. Violet rolled her eyes with a theatrical sigh before straightening up.

“Fine.” She hissed, tucking herself against him and resting her head against his shoulder, “Happy?”

“Happy,” he repeated, pressing his lips to her still shower damp hair.

She pressed her lips to his shoulder in return before tossing the edge of the blanket over his own lap. The opening credits began to roll, John’s fingers tracing the length of her scar and brushing against the edge of the worn cotton sleep shorts she had slipped into after showering. Violet sighed happily, pressing her back to his chest. Sadie groaned sleepily from her spot on the floor, John raising a foot to lazily stroke the dog’s back from where he sat.

Violet’s hands escaped from under the plush blanket within the first few minutes of dialogue, coming to rest in her lap. He watched her fingers as she began to absently gnash at her thumbnails; already bloodied and at various states of healing, her fingernails bit down to the quick. He had seen her do it only a few times, usually as she sat in front of the monitor at her desk or after a challenging day, a manifestation of her worry. He reached over to where one hand brutalized the other, placing his hand over both of hers. Violet looked up at him, a hint of embarrassment in her apologetic smile.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, giving her hands a squeeze.

She toyed with his fingers, chewing her lip nervously. She brought her palm down against his with a gentle smack, winding their fingers together. “I’ve told you about that meeting I have coming up, yeah?”

He nodded in confirmation. The board of directors meeting had been a topic of discussion for several weeks between the two of them. He had slept on the couch several nights during his stays, staying awake with her into the night as she worked at the kitchen island until his exhaustion would get the best of him. She worked well past midnight, hunched over different monitors as she whispered to herself about data and figures until he pulled her away to bed.

“Well,” she sighed, “I got a message from my boss today with the agenda. They are bringing in reps from the Demeter Project to present to the board.”

“Your old assignment?”

“The very one. I learned that Meredith Powell is attending, which is amazing. I’ve told you about her? We’ve known each other since our doctorate program. You’ll like her, she’s fun. But,” she sighed, John noticing the way her jaw tensed, “I found out that Dev is coming, too.”

John stiffened at the name, the image of the long haired man swimming into his mind. Violet chewed her lip again before continuing.

“I mean, he is the new head of research since I left, but I was still hoping that I wouldn’t have to interact with him. Honestly, if I can make it through those three days without having to speak with him outside of professional courtesy, it’s a win in my eyes. This whole presentation has already been so stressful, and now I have this. Miranda totally chewed my ass out today about ‘maintaining professionalism’; which I needed! Don’t get me wrong! I needed the reality check. But-.”

Her rambled speech fell to the wayside as his thoughts returned to the altered photograph that hung in her parents’ home. To the man’s hand on her hip, Violet smiling that bright Violet smile beside her family. It made his shoulders tense, it made his stomach clench, John catching himself grinding his teeth.

It wasn’t the botanist that bothered him about the image, it was what the image represented. He had looked upon it and saw stability. He saw normalcy. He saw the life that had been modeled for him on that patio under the glow of a tree wrapped in lights as he watched Violet play with the children he knew she so badly wanted herself.

It was the notion of a man who came home at five every evening. A man who wasn’t sent off to the farthest corners of the galaxy without the promise of returning. It was a husband who provided, a father who never missed a bedtime or a milestone, a partner who could keep every promise he made her. It was the geese on the pond; never one without the other. Someday, she would look to him and realize that he wasn’t created to mate for life.

She took his hand, the gentle squeeze pulling him from his thoughts back to her. She curled his fingers into his own, John relishing in the anchor to her as she offered him an apologetic smile.

“It’s just a few days. I won’t even need to speak with him outside of professional courtesy, anyway,” she said softly, John unsure which one of them she attempted to comfort. “I’m making too big of a deal of it. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” he lied.

Violet touched his cheek and he leaned into the touch, her knuckles brushing along the curve of his jaw before she brought her lips to his. She offered him a final soft smile before returning her head to his chest and her eyes to the screen.

“Your cortisol levels just spiked,” Cortana said gently, “So did your heart rate. I believe you are experiencing feelings of anxiety.”

John would usually dismiss her intrusion, reminding her of the rules that Violet had so clearly crafted for the AI. But instead, he looked down to where her head rested against him, her fingers toying with his own as her eyes stayed on the screen.

“I am.” He admitted without the reluctance he would so usually meet her with.

“Would this have anything to do with the arrival of Doctor Johal on Reach? Perhaps I could provide some comfort, Chief,” Cortana spoke earnestly, John hanging on to each word like a lifeline.

“Obviously, I am unable to understand the experience of feeling human emotions, but I am able to understand data. Based upon my observations of Doctor Harris’ body language, speech patterns, and microexpressions over the past five months, it appears that she expresses genuine happiness when she is in your presence. Would you like me to further explain my observations that lead to this conclusion?”

“Just tell me what to do, Cortana.”

“Pardon me if this is out of bounds; but have you considered just telling her how you feel? Talk to her. All of the research I am able to collect in this area suggests clear communication. I think you may be pleasantly surprised to know how she feels in return.”

“And say what?”

His question was genuine, unsurity evident in each word as he responded to the voice that lived between his ears. He felt Cortana smile; a warm crawl across the back of his neck that told him she was pleased. He wasn’t sure what pleased her more; his engagement with her near constant chatter, or the fact he found himself in need of her.

“That you love her.”

John found himself unable to argue with Cortana for the second time that night. He did love her. It surpassed reason or logic in the depths of which he felt it. Violet brought a tenderness since that first day beside the pond that he had yet to rationalize why. She kept him caught in her warmth, in the never ending grace she demonstrated. She was like sunshine warming his face, a midnight rain that cleansed and renewed as it fell and touched all things around. He was the chill that crept in; left to linger as it consumed, cracked, and fractured. He found that chill caught in the gentle thaw of the woman who simply looked and found him in the deepest recesses of himself.

She had been steady in that thaw, Violet calm in the resolve he feared wouldn’t come. She studied him as if he were the plants that sat within the walls of her greenhouses, the same patience and care radiating from her in every moment he spent in her daylight bright presence. John dreaded that one day she would go to harvest and find him empty despite her careful cultivation. He feared the return to the time before Violet Harris; when she realized her efforts left her empty handed and sought out the same warmth that he didn’t think himself capable of.

She would find the husband and the father; the man who would give her a backyard patio table to surround with family and put a baby on her hip. The man who would provide her the stability he found her so deserving of. That man would be home each evening as she put dinner on the table. That man would step into the life John only pretended to fit into in a desperate attempt for another moment in her glow. John would be left with memories of green eyes and a smile that felt like sunshine on his back that he would carry with him until the end.

He glanced around the apartment, washed in the pale glow of moonlight from where it flooded through the windows. He looked to the bookshelves that sat full of memories and the plants she had nurtured to life. To the kitchen where she had brought him to life with that first kiss in a way that removing the pellet in his back never had. Where she taught him to slow dance after her third glass of wine, giggling in his arms as he held her and felt his notion of what it meant to be a man shift as she looked up at him. To the doorway of the bedroom where she had taken his shaking hands and showed him how to touch her when he feared his own hands too brutal as she whispered sweet words of praise, Violet tracing the jagged edges of himself that were too sharp like they were looping calligraphy. To the bed beyond the door where he lay awake just to watch her breathe as if the image of her would fade away with what remained of his fractured memories.

It felt as if a different man resided there; a man who knew every creak of the floorboards, who counted the steps across Tchakova Park and down Cornelia Street to her door. If felt as though he was living another’s life; simply a voyeur peering through the window to a life that he couldn’t give to someone so deserving of it.

But he’d pretend as long as he could. For as long as she’d allow him to and kept him caught in that morning bright glow. And if telling her meant he got one more day, he’d tell her as often as he could.

He traced his fingers up her back, gliding over the space she had tattooed her niece and nephew’s birth flowers into her skin, the soft fabric damp where her still wet hair lay. He swallowed, finding his mouth too dry and his chest too tight.

“Goose,” he whispered, summoning the strength that always seemed to fade in her presence.

He dropped his eyes to her, finding her lashes resting upon her cheeks as she slept, her breathing soft and even. She shifted at his touch, wiggling closer to him on the couch, the blanket shifting off her lap. He chuckled softly, adjusted the blanket so that it covered her bare legs. He paused the movie, noting that Violet made it less than ten minutes before falling asleep beside him. Her hair fell into her eyes, John’s hand meeting it as it crossed her face. He brushed it out of her face, his hand brushing her cheek as he traced the moonlit contours of her face. He smoothed her hair, pressing his lips to her forehead before letting his chin rest atop her head.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He’d tell her again when she was awake. He didn’t care if the words went unheard in the sleepy peace of the dim lighting. She was in his arms, and he got to pretend this could be his a moment longer.

Chapter 16: Arrivals

Chapter Text

Violet sat at her desk for what had felt like an eternity, eyes scanning over the final notes the head of biological research had sent over to her earlier that afternoon. She rubbed her eyes as she read, hoping the motion would relieve her of the tension headache that had formed behind her tired eyes in the hours prior.

She read over his notes on the trials of the drug they had worked to develop, Phase 0 having completed only weeks prior. Phase 0 had consisted of less than 100 volunteers, or military volun-tolds as she and Doctor Jeong would often joke. All participants received microdoses of the complex that had been derived from the strange plant taking up residence in the Jungle. The preliminary data had proven successful, Violet allowing a satisfied smirk to split her face as she read over how Phase 1 of the trials would be commencing in the coming weeks. She leaned back into her seat, sipping from her mug, a sense of ease coming over her at the notion of being able to bring good news when they presented their findings to the board.

The week had passed in a frenzy as she prepared for the upcoming meetings. She had thrown herself into her research, most days forgetting to eat until she would glance up at the chrono and see the late evening hour. She spent days within the confines of her office, Violet longing for a reason to visit the greenhouses below and feel soil beneath her fingernails again.

Occasionally, Miranda would bring her own work down to Violet’s office, the two of them splitting a quick lunch and talking as they worked. Other times, she spent hours across from Jeong in his own office the floor above as they poured over research and results. Their company had been welcome in the days of overtly productive solitude, but it wasn’t the presence she longed for.

John dropped by when he had free moments, and each time she was distracted and scattered as she worked. She would ask him to repeat himself after he spoke, only half hearing his questions in her distracted state, and John had been so patient with her despite it. Violet hated it each time; the tense way he stood in the doorway as she stumbled out her sentences in distracted half phrases as she worked. He would sit with her in the unnerving silence before he had to return to his duties, her uncharacteristic quiet punctuated with the tapping of her fingers on her keyboard.

He had opted to stay on base for more than his required nights that week. Violet loathed every message she had to send to him explaining some new roadblock that required her attention. The work followed her home those nights. Her evenings were spent hunched over her screens at the kitchen island, ignoring Sadie’s whines to be walked while she picked at whatever takeout she had delivered to her apartment door. She would wake up past midnight most nights still at the island, finding that she had fallen asleep over her work with John’s message wishing her a good night still blinking on her pad.

God, she couldn’t wait for this week to be over.

Jeong’s comments on the shared document they worked on pinged on her screen, five boxes of texts appearing on the screen with his questions and contributions. Violet sighed in mourning of her fleeting break and tossed back what remained of her cold coffee from that morning, her head still pounding.

She returned to her monitor and pressed play on the podcast she had been casually listening to as she worked. The empty office was filled with the voices of a group of friends who recorded their campaigns of the roleplay fantasy game she used to play with the team at Demeter, Violet finding comfort in the familiarity. She clicked on the first comment, reading over Jeong’s short handed notes on one of her contributions. Violet rested an elbow against her desktop, propping her chin on her fist as she squinted at the screen, her vision blurry from the hours spent staring into the blue light. A knock at the door roused her from her reading, Violet expecting to find Lorelei in the doorway with the collection of sample reports she had requested on Audrey. She held her hand out, still reading as she waited for the reports to be placed into it.

“Thanks, Lorelei,” she said simply, having learned over the past few months that the straight faced redhead wasn’t much for compliments or small talk.

A hand slipped into her own instead of papers, warm and calloused. He gave her fingers a squeeze as she looked up to John with a smile. He returned it with his own before slipping into the chair across from her. Violet turned her monitor to the side so she could better see him from behind it. John leaned back into the chair, arms crossed over his chest as he looked over to her.

He gestured to her screens with a jerk of his chin, “How’s it coming?”

“Just about there, I think,” she sighed, offering him a soft smile, “I hope so. I’m so sick of reading about pharmaco*kinetics, pharmacodynamics, and potential efficacy.”

He smirked, “The researcher is sick of reading research?”

She laughed, “My doctorate is in botany, might I remind you. Not pharmaceuticals. This is maddening. I just hope that it has the ability to do some good one day.”

He chuckled, Violet realizing just how much she had missed the lovely sound. She reached across the table again for his hand, John taking hers and curling his fingers around her own. Quiet fell between the two, Violet’s podcast still chattering from her monitor about perception checks. John looked back at her with those soft eyes she had seen so little of in the previous days, a sense of calm coming over her hyper focused mind at the sight.

“I’ve sucked this week, haven't I?” she asked with a sigh, giggling when John chuckled at her words.

He shrugged, “Your words, goose. Not mine.”

She laughed again, an apologetic smile tweaking her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said, letting his hand go with another squeeze, “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Yeah? How do you intend to do that, goose?”

The gruff timbre of his voice pricked her skin, Violet matching the smirk he met her with across her desk. John met her eyes with that heavy stare, leaning forward to rest his forearms against her desk, and the overly air conditioned room felt too hot. Violet busied herself with looking at her monitor, the late nights spent alone in her apartment with him halfway across the city finally catching up to her with a rush of her blood. She shifted in her seat as she pressed her thighs together, John’s heated gaze still on her as she brought her hands back to the keyboard.

“You’re a smart guy,” she said, “I’ll bet you can think of a thing or two.”

“I’ve had four nights to think about it, goose. I’ve got more than a thing or two in mind.”

“We are at work, sir,” she laughed, reaching out to swat at his arm. Violet bit her lip in an attempt to hold back her smile, feeling that familiar warmth she seemed to only know with him crawling up her chest.

“Cortana can make sure the door stays locked,” he said, Violet huffing out a laugh at the implication, “I only need 15 minutes, goose.”

Violet scoffed, “Jesus, what have I turned you into? Wait until we get home, you horndog. I think I’ll actually be done at five today.”

John laughed, leaning back in his seat again. Violet returned her eyes to her monitor, silence settling into the room again. It felt less tense as it fell, returning to that easy feeling she had come to know in their moments together. The voices of her podcast and tapping of keys returned to the room, John’s eyes scanning over the text on her screen as she worked. She sent off her response to Jeong’s comment and clicked on the next, the tension between her eyes dissipating in the calm of John across the desk from her. His eyes flicked to hers, catching her gaze as she worked. That softness remained in the brown; strong and calm.

“Vi,” he murmured.

She looked up, finding that same look on his face that she remembered from the weeks before in the hangar. Like he wanted to tell her something, but didn’t quite know how. There was no tilt of the head, no interference from his little blue helper, just sincerity in the way he watched her.

“What?” she said softly, bringing her eyes back to her screen.

He started to speak, but a knock in the doorway interrupted the words that had begun to leave his mouth. They both looked towards the door, finding Lorelei standing in the doorway with the reports Violet requested, looking rather bored.

She held them out towards Violet, “Here are those reports, Doctor. I apologize for the delay.”

Violet held back her annoyance at the intrusion as she stood to receive them, checking over the assortment of papers with an appreciative nod, “Thanks, Lorelei.”

The woman remained in the doorway with the same air of disinterest as she looked between her and John. Lorelei brought her eyes back to Violet, “There are people here to see you. I told them to wait in the hall. Should I send them in?”

Violet tilted her head in question, pulling up her calendar on her monitor to check for any appointments she may have forgotten. She found her schedule for the day empty save the sections blocked out for final revisions and the twenty minutes she and Miranda had carved out for coffee. John stood, making his way to the doorway as he saw himself out.

“I don’t have anyone on my calendar, but sure. Send them in,” Violet called, finding that Lorelei had already disappeared into the hallway. She shared an annoyed look with John before crossing to where he stood to press a kiss to his jaw, “See you at five?”

“See you at five,” he confirmed, his hand finding its way to her back, “Plan to leave the screens here tonight.”

She laughed and nodded, “Okay.”

John gave her hip a squeeze before stepping into the hallway, Violet following him out to meet her surprise visitors. She watched John near the lift, passing by the two individuals that stood beside one another in civilian clothes as Lorelei approached them. A flash of tight blonde curls was all Violet needed to see for excitement to buzz through her body. Lorelei tapped the blonde on the shoulder and pointed down the hallway, but Violet knew who the surprise visitor was before she even turned.

Meredith Powell’s eyes fell on Violet with an overjoyed squeal at the sight of her friend. John turned at the sudden noise, looking between Meredith and Violet quizzically before looking back to Violet. She only shrugged before John turned and continued down the hall. The second visitor turned as well, the joy that Violet felt fading momentarily at the sight of Devrin Johal’s face from where he stood down the hall.

He looked the same as he did when she left; his too long hair drawn back, brown eyes framed under the thick black frames she knew he only chose because he thought they’d make him appear more intelligent somehow. He had a beard now, she noticed, Violet unable to keep herself from thinking how f*cking dumb he looked with it.

Dev offered her a tight lipped smile from where he stood, hands stuffed into his pockets. Violet nodded in return before throwing her arms around her friend, Meredith rocking her side to side as they embraced. She caught sight of John over Meredith’s shoulder as he boarded the lift, posture stiff and his eyes locked on Devrin, lacking that same warmth she had seen only minutes ago as the doors slid shut. There was something predacious in the way he watched him; like an animal observing its prey, unaware of the fierce gaze locked upon it. Violet had never seen that look to him.

Meredith hugged her tightly, curls bouncing with each happy sway as she embraced her friend. “Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much! You left me alone with all of those boys, you asshole!”

Violet broke free from her grip, her hands on Meredith’s shoulders as she smiled back at her. “Oh please, like you have any real issue being surrounded by boys. Besides, you still have Yin, so don’t pretend that you’re this poor lonely woman in STEM,” she snarked, Meredith sticking her tongue out at her. Violet laughed, “When did you get here? I thought your transport wasn’t arriving until tonight!”

Meredith shrugged, “We got in early. I wanted to come see the new head bitch in charge before we headed for the hotel.”

“Oh my god, watch your mouth! I’m still on the clock,” Violet looked around at the empty hallway to make sure the too loud conversation wasn’t being overheard by her team, “It’s so good to see you. Aren’t you exhausted though? I’m sure you want to get to your hotel.”

“f*ck no,” Meredith laughed without heading her friend’s warning, “I’m only here for the grand tour of the greenhouses. I’ll sleep afterwards. You have time for your lowly rock dweller best friend, or are you too busy running the damn place?”

Violet shook her head as she checked her watch. “I have an hour if you’re lucky. C’mon, I think we can get through the first three before I have to come back up,” her eyes flicked to where Devrin still stood uncomfortably at the end of the hallway, her voice dropping to a whisper, “He’s not coming too, is he?”

Meredith spun around to face Devrin, “Hey, Johal! Beat it! I’ll meet you at the hotel!”

Violet sighed at the boisterous woman’s lack of tact. Meredith had been that way for as long as Violet had known her; always too loud and too direct and highly inappropriate. She and Meredith had met as doctoral candidates before they both accepted positions at the Demeter Project. She had always been a tornado in Violet’s life; fast paced and dizzying with her constant partying and affinity for men, but Violet adored her all the same. Meredith was quick with a dirty joke, drank like a man twice her size, and was one of the most brilliant researchers Violet had ever encountered. Devrin nodded from where he stood down the hallway before he turned towards the lifts.

Meredith looped her arm into Violet’s as they started their own walk towards the lifts, their heads together as they whispered excitedly. Violet tensed when they came to stand by Devrin as they waited, feeling his dark eyes on her. Dev looked over to where Violet stood with another tight lipped smile that she didn’t return.

“It’s good to see you, Vi,” he said, turning his eyes to the still closed doors, “You look good.”

“Nice to see you as well, Doctor Johal,” was all she could manage through gritted teeth as she kept her own eyes ahead.

Meredith squeezed her arm in quiet comfort as the lift doors swished open and Dev stepped in, her shoulders sagging in relief as the door shut and carried him away. Their own lift arrived moments later, Meredith and Violet stepping in together in another flurry of conversation. Violet tapped the button for the ground level, already excitedly telling Meredith about the different greenhouses and the functions of each. Meredith tapped her shoulder to Violet’s to interrupt the dark haired woman’s excited chatter.

“Did you see the piece of ass that got on the lift when you came out of your office?” she asked, that wicked smirk Violet had learned to love splitting her face.

Violet smirked herself as she bumped Meredith’s shoulder back, “Yeah, I’ve got a funny story about that one, actually.”

Chapter 17: Downtown

Chapter Text

Violet focused on a recess in the cliff face, just large enough for her fingers to slip into, and puffed out a breath from where she clung to the crumbling stone. The handhold was just beyond her reach, Violet’s fingers barely able to brush against them as she extended her hand towards it. She shifted her feet, toes clinging to the rock as she continued to reach. Her fingers still came up short. She felt her sweat on her brow, her hair sticking to her face as her muscles trembled. She took a final breath before pushing off of her footholds towards the small ledge, her fingers brushing the rock with a puff of crumbled slate as she fell.

She cursed as the auto belay locked, her harness digging into her thighs as she jerked to a stop. She braced herself as she swung out from the wall for the return, holding her hands out to catch herself before she could slam against the wall. Meredith laughed from above her as she watched Violet swing. Violet let her head fall back with a frustrated groan, laughing with Meredith as she took her position again on the wall.

“You’re rusty, Harris,” Meredith tutted.

“I know,” Violet sighed, “It’s this damn gauntlet of meetings they’re running us through. I haven’t done anything but sit at my desk all week.”

Meredith heaved herself up the wall above of Violet, climbing beyond her as she navigated the walls of The Rock. Meredith had dragged her down to the greenhouse with demands of seeing all the climbing walls had to offer once they were dismissed from the first day of proceedings. Violet had gone without protest, thankful for the time spent in the thin air after hours spent pouring over facts, figures, and statistics in the company of over nearly four dozen fellow scientists.

“One day down, two to go,” Meredith called over her shoulder as she adjusted her footing, “You were a badass today. That drug is going to make Doctor Violet Harris a household name, mark my words.”

Violet shook her head despite the twist of pride that panged in her chest. “It was a joint effort. I think recalling data is a far cry from being a badass.”

Meredith continued her ascent up the wall. “Oh please, you kicked ass. And let’s not forget your moment in the mess, Little Miss ‘I’m still speaking, Doctor Johal’.”

Violet hid her smile at Meredith’s comment as she mapped her route up the wall. Devrin had attempted to bait her into an argument over the efficiency of the Persephone System during their lunch break, insulting the flash growth method Violet had poured herself into for four years. She chose not to engage, knowing what it would turn into; what it had always turned into with them. Devrin had never allowed her to escape an argument in their time together, always taking a sick pleasure poking at her and twisting her words until she would snap and he could excitedly tell her how psychotic she sounded. She didn’t give him the same satisfaction now as she so unwillingly did then. She watched him fume across the table as she ate, calmly explaining how to calibrate the system if it was making errors without shrinking to his interruptions. It brought her a tinge of satisfaction to watch his mouth twist in displeasure under that dumb little beard when she ignored his retorts to turn to another colleague. Maybe she’d make it through the next few days after all.

Violet heard her pad chime from below with an incoming message. Meredith continued to climb on as Violet kicked off the wall, releasing her handbrake as she repelled down from her position halfway up. Her feet hit the soft mats below as she touched ground, the auto belay yanking her harness up uncomfortably against the dull ache between her legs left there from the night before. John had thought of more than just a thing or two in their time spent apart- more like one thing against the front door as soon as it swung shut behind them, two things on the sofa, another thing on the kitchen island, a small collection of things in the shower, and one final thing early that morning before he got up for PT. Violet grimaced at the sensation before waddling backwards to the worktable her pad sat upon with belay still attached. She gave her sweaty palms a hard rub against her leggings before tapping on his message.

117: Where are you?

Violet Harris: At the Rock with Meredith! Ready to leave?

117: On my way.

She set her pad back down, dipping her hands into the shallow bin of climbing chalk on the worktable. She coated her palms, giving them a hard clap to remove the excess as she stared up at the wall, mapping her path to the top. Her pad chimed again and Violet carefully maneuvering the screen with her powder-coated fingers to see his message.

117: Kai is with me.

117: She wants to see the greenhouses.

Violet Harris: Okay! See you soon. :-)

“Is that your piece of ass?” Meredith called down as Violet reapproached the wall, shooting a displeased look up at her friend as she found her initial grips.

Violet started her climb up one of the familiar routes, auto belay whirring above head. She found a footfall, gripping it with her toes as she heaved herself upwards, “If by that you mean John, then yes. He’s on his way, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t act like a feral cat in heat for twenty minutes when he does.”

“Oh whatever,” Meredith laughed, stopping her descent to let Violet catch up to her, “You’re going to drop on me last night that you’ve been boning the Master Chief and you expect me to be cool about it? Like that’s not the craziest f*cking thing I’ve ever heard?”

Violet rolled her eyes at the crass comment, peering down at the members of her staff that still lingered between the shift change. She pulled herself upwards, the muscles in her arms tugging pleasantly with the motion until she was beside Meredith, “I still have my team here. Can you not shout, please?”

“Oh, okay, Boss Lady,” Meredith dropped her voice to a showy whisper. Violet leaned back into her harness, allowing herself to dangle freely over the greenhouse below her. She stretched her aching muscles, relishing in the feeling of the exertion after the week spent in her office. Meredith took the same position, turning herself with a foot to face Violet before she continued to speak.

“So, how exactly does that work?” Meredith asked, Violet already seeing the danger in the blonde’s sh*t-eating grin.

“How does what work?” she asked reluctantly.

“You know,” Meredith raised a fist, ramming three fingers into it in a vulgar gesture, “Are we talking this? Or…” she shoved her whole fist into the other, Violet groaning in disgust before she chuckled.

“Oh my god, you’re incorrigible,” she groaned. She turned back to the wall, finding her foot holds again before returning to her climb and leaving the filthy mind of her friend behind.

Meredith snickered below her, returning to her climb as well, “You know you love me.”

“Despite my better judgment, yes. I do,” Violet sighed.

The two women fell silent as they climbed, both expelling the occasional grunt or puff of determined breath as they hauled themselves up the cliff face. Violet’s fingers curled around a handhold, splintered rock crumbling under her fingers before she rerouted. Meredith kept a quick pace as she scurried up the rock with the same ease of a mountain dwelling critter, the brawny woman’s muscles shifting with each motion. Meredith would occasionally stop to point out the various plant life on the wall, her and Violet engaging in a panted conversation about each. They hung huddled beside a tumble of cypress vine, gently prodding at the crimson star-shaped blooms when Violet heard her name from the bottom of the wall, the gruff rumble of his voice lifting her lips. Violet turned on the wall and anchored herself with her toes as she peered down to where John stood.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Meredith teased, turning to peer down as well.

Kai lingered behind John, looking over the pots of young salvia and clustered bellflower plants the horticulture teams were prepping for implantation on the walls. She stared up at the wall in wonder, a smile creeping across her face at the sight of it.

“This has been here all this time, and no one told me about it?” Kai asked, still looking up at the wall wide eyed.

Violet smiled, “You’ll have to come back out when I have more time! Us botanists have a few secrets within our hallowed halls. I can show you the Ponds.”

“The Ponds?” Kai called back up. John leaned over to her, Kai’s overjoyed expression growing as he explained what sat within the pools of Greenhouse #1. “There’s sharks in them?”

“We have three different nonaggressive species,” Violet called back down with a nod.

“I hear you have a man-eating plant as well?”

“Audrey, our resident carnifloria vorax and constant headache,” Violet confirmed, “Like I said, come out and see me sometime! I’d be happy to show you around!”

Kai nodded up with an appreciative smile before she returned to the worktables. Violet continued to watch as the woman circled the tables and looked over the furry leaves and blue blooms that sat in the pots. John looked up to Violet, “You ready, goose?”

“You’re not bailing on me tonight to hang out with your boyfriend, are you?” Meredith groaned as they released their handbrakes. With a few kicked rappels, both women touched down on the mats below, “You said we could go out drinking!”

“I’m not! We’re still going. John is going to come with us. Do you want to head back to your hotel for a bit? I need a shower,” Violet asked, unclipping the carabiner that connected her to the auto belay from her harness, “Are you sure we can’t take you to dinner instead? There’s a few really nice places that have opened up near my apartment. Or you could come hang out at my place? Sadie would be thrilled to see you.”

“Oh my god, Violet. Stop trying to get out of going,” she whined, giving Violet’s shoulder a gentle shove before tossing her harness into the basket, “I haven’t been to a proper bar in years. Since when have you ever turned down a night out with me?”

Violet looked over at her friend incredulously as she clipped off the auto belay, “Since the last time I went out with you and you pumped me full of tequila until I blacked out.”

“You had a great time!”

“Oh yeah! What a great little treat that was, Meredith! You’re right, that hangover was a gift that kept on giving,” Violet snipped, the blonde chuckling at her perplexion, “That was a horrendous night. The last thing I remember is eating pizza on the sidewalk like a rat and then waking up at home. I lost my wallet! I still don’t know how I got home without my transit card!”

“See! Sounds like a great night to me!”

Violet scoffed as she wiggled out of her harness. “You and I have vastly different definitions of ‘a great night’, my friend.”

“Oh, come on, Violet. You become a pencil pusher and now you’re boring all of a sudden? Did all of that sweet, sweet Spartan dick domesticate you or some sh*t?”

Violet physically recoiled at the statement said so boldly in the presence of said Spartan, a snorted laugh escaping Kai’s lips at John’s horrified look. Violet gave her friend a warning glare before turning to apologize to them both, turning back to Meredith, “Can you act like you’ve been allowed out in public before, please? Good lord.”

“What? I said one thing. I can’t say one thing?”

“Say no things, Meredith.”

Kai continued to laugh as Meredith shrugged, swigging from her water bottle as if commenting on the Master Chief’s sex life less than fifteen feet away from him was all in a day’s work. Violet scrubbed her hand across her face with a groan. She dropped her hand, shooting John an apologetic look before turning back to her friend.

“One bar,” she gritted out, “and that’s it, Mer. Then we go straight back home. Meetings start back up at eight tomorrow morning, remember?”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three. Final offer.”

Both women stared fiercely at the other as they waited for one to acquiesce, blue eyes boring into green. Meredith crossed her arms, the puff of curls that served as her ponytail rolling on her head as she settled her weight onto her hip. Violet did the same, bouncing slightly as she held Meredith’s eye. Meredith stared back at her, eyes narrowed, and waited for the crack that she knew would come from Violet in the tense silence as the fans whirred overhead.

Violet let out a defeated sigh as she dropped her arms, “Fine! Three bars!”

Meredith clapped her hands with a celebratory hop. “Oh good! That still works! Perfect, I’ve been wanting to head downtown to see if any of our old places are still there. We could try Haggerty’s? Or Crown and Anchor? Oh! There’s that club out on Fourth and Union. The one that had the dance floor with the lights underneath? What was it called?”

“Alchemy?” Kai’s voice called from behind the work tables, “It’s still open.”

Violet and Meredith turned to face the blonde Spartan, heads tilted at her knowing statement. John turned as well, curiosity evident on his face as he regarded his teammate. Kai met their curious stares.

“What? Chief spends all of his down time at your apartment, Vannak spends his with his birds, and Riz spends hers with her books. I just happen to spend mine downtown,” she shrugged, “I like the music.”

Violet smiled at the image that swam into her mind of the Spartan dancing in nightclubs with a drink in hand, Kai returning it with her own friendly grin. Violet shrugged, “We haven’t hit the bar scene here in years. We could use a tour guide. Wanna join us? We can meet at my apartment at eight?”

Kai nodded vigorously, her smile growing at the invitation. Violet gave her arm a squeeze as she passed by her, Meredith trailing behind as they all made their way to the exit. A few of the night crew watched with starstruck stares as two Spartans made their way through the greenhouse instead of the one they had grown accustomed to seeing in the previous months. John chuckled beside her as they stepped out into the warm summer air and shook his head slightly.

“What?”

“We need to work on your negotiation tactics, goose.”

John had never known Kai to meet someone she couldn’t befriend, and the two scientists who walked the streets of downtown New Alexandria beside her were no different.

Violet skipped ahead of Kai and Meredith as they walked, the curls she had spent the evening twisting her hair into bouncing as she turned to walk backwards ahead of the two blondes and laughed at something Meredith had said with that musical laugh. Her heels clicked against the pavement as they walked, John following behind watching her shine brighter than any of the city lights above as she smiled and joked. Meredith grabbed her shoulder and gave her a yank to the side to avoid colliding the pedestrians that approached behind her. Violet giggled out an apology before stepping back between Meredith and Kai.

Their evening began shortly past nine and John quickly learned that punctuality meant something incredibly different to his botanist’s friend than it did himself and Kai when half past eight came and they found themselves still waiting around for the woman. He hadn’t found much reason to complain, however. Violet had spent the evening in her bathroom when they returned to her apartment and emerged shortly before Meredith and Kai had been supposed to arrive draped in a fitted black tank and jeans that clung to her curves like a second skin. He had made quick work of getting her back out of them and smudging the makeup she had painted on in the minutes before they arrived, Violet sheepishly apologizing to the women who sat on their unmade bed waiting as she quickly reapplied it in the vanity mirror.

John had also found in the hours they had been downtown that the brightness that was Violet Harris attracted others wherever they went like moths to a flame. The evening had taken the group into two different bars, John finding that Kai knew just about every patron she encountered by name. Violet spent the evening with drink in hand, chatting happily with Kai and Meredith and whomever else was around them as if they were old friends. John slipped into whatever empty booth or barstool he could find and simply watched her goodness touch all those who surrounded her. He didn’t take much issue with the men who approached her as she danced or shot pool with Meredith, finding that her friend was more than capable of handling the men who ignored Violet’s polite refusals quite loudly until they walked away. Violet’s eyes would find him where he sat each time, that same softness only for him in each glance.

Meredith barked out a laugh at something Kai said as they approached the intersection, leaning against the street post unsteadily. John had watched the woman try to match drinks with Kai all evening, painfully unaware that because of their physiology, Spartans metabolized the alcohol before it could even have the chance to touch their bloodstream. Meredith had only continued to get more and more drunk as Kai remained the same, Violet having to fight her own buzz to encourage her friend to eat and rehydrate throughout the night.

“Alright, Mer,” Violet called as she pressed the button for the cross signal, “This is your third and final choice. Where do you want to go?”

“Boo,” Meredith jeered, “I demand a fourth, since someone made us get a late start by getting dicked do-.”

“You’re a problem,” Violet turned on the blonde, interrupting what John assumed would be another raunchy comment with a point of her finger, “A real problem. Pick, or we’re going home.”

Meredith ignored Violet’s warning, instead turning to Kai, “You’re the local expert, Blondie. Find us somewhere to dance?”

Kai pondered the question, looking down the busy streets as they crossed. Violet fell behind the two as they discussed the prospective bars to end the night at, her hand slipping into John’s as they walked. She gave his hand a squeeze, smiling up at him with that Violet smile that scrunched her nose. He returned her smile, listening to Kai call out the name of a bar before she led them down the avenue to it.

He could hear the establishment far before he saw it. Music poured from the open doors, spotted with laughter and chatter as they entered. Violet dropped his hand when Meredith grabbed her other and guided her through the crowd to the bar. Kai led the way to it, grinning and greeting patrons as she weaved through the crowds, waving like a celebrity. John followed after and watched as the three women squeezed into an open spot at the counter to order.

The bartender seemed to recognize Kai in the same way the others did, smiling warmly at her from under the thicket of his fiery red beard. He approached the bar where Kai stood flanked by the scientists, dragging a hand through hair the same color.

“Well, do my eyes deceive me? Or did it just get a bit brighter in here?” He called over the music. John saw the faintest blush color Kai’s cheeks as he leaned across the bar towards her.

“Hi, Ian,” she called back.

“Hello, Kai,” he nodded to the rest of them, “and Kai’s friends. Missed seeing your face around these parts. The usual tonight?”

Kai nodded, returning the broad-shouldered man’s smile. He turned to Violet and Meredith, both ordering the same drinks they had all night. John didn’t quite understand the need to change locations to drink the same drinks and dance to the same songs, but he wouldn’t argue with that bright smile and laugh that came with each movement.

Music boomed from the speakers so loud it was almost incoherent. Meredith’s eyes brightened at the song as she turned to Violet, singing along as Violet smiled and sipped from her drink. The women spoke to one another in a series of shouts, leaning together to be heard as they featured towards the busy dance floor. John repeated the action he had taken at each establishment and scoped out an empty booth against the back wall. He pointed to it, Violet nodding in acknowledgment before Kai grabbed her hand and led her out to the dance floor.

John watched as the three danced, Violet moving in a swirl of hips as she sang along to each synthetic pop song. That smile didn’t leave her face as she danced alongside the two blondes, gesturing and laughing with them between sips of her drink. There was nothing but joy in the way she moved, in the smile that hadn’t left her face since they departed her apartment. He leaned back into the booth, catching the eye of a man who had taken to watching Violet and began to weave his way through the crowd towards her. He gave him a narrowed stare, the man giving him a tight nod before retreating back into the crowd.

The music shifted from the blaring synthetic tunes to something slower and softer, a man smiling slyly at a woman from beside the jukebox as she giggled knowingly. John watched as the man held his hand out the woman, the woman rolling her eyes in the same way Violet did when John did something that pleased her. The dance floor cleared out quickly as patrons made their way back to the bar, the man pulling the woman to him as they swayed, only a few couples remaining. The change of pace didn’t deter Violet and Meredith, nor did it Kai, the two women gripping one another’s hands as they swayed and sang along loudly with drinks in hand. Violet swung around Kai in a sway of hair and hips, singing along to the lyrics of the song as she met his eye across the bar and pointed to him as the singer crooned about her lover. He chuckled, Violet smirking as she took another sip of her drink as Kai twirled her around.

Violet dropped Kai’s hand, still swaying and singing as she crossed the bar to him. She twirled as the music flourished, pointing to John as the chorus repeated with a shimmy of her shoulders as she neared where he sat. She held out her hand to him as she drained the remaining contents of her glass with that bright smile, John taking her hand.

God, he could watch her forever.

“Having fun?” He called over the music.

Violet nodded vigorously as she swallowed, John noticing the unfocused way she looked back at him and the pink of her cheeks. “So much fun,” she replied, words slightly slurred. Her eyes softened with concern, “But we can go if you’re not having fun. I know this isn’t really your speed.”

He chuckled, Violet giving her glass a small shake in an attempt to release whatever alcohol remained in the ice cubes before bringing it to her lips again. He gave her hand a squeeze and Violet’s eyes brightened as another pop song blared from the speakers. “Go dance, goose.”

She smiled and leaned across the table to kiss his cheek. Kai and Meredith called her back to the dance floor, Violet turning to hold her empty glass over her head and tap it in response. “Be back in a sec! I need another drink!”

“If my count is correct, I believe this will be Doctor Harris’ fourth drink of the night once she orders. Might I recommend she switches over to water for the rest of the evening to slow her intoxication?”

Violet bounced off to the bar, John calling after her, “Water, Vi!”

She waved a dismissive hand, slipping into an empty spot at the bar as a patron departed with an armful of drinks. He watched as she waved down the bartender, Kai’s friend smiling at Violet as he approached to take her order.

“Back so soon?” Ian called as he took Violet’s empty glass from her when she held it out, “You sticking with the vodka soda, or are we switching it up?”

Violet leaves against the counter, “Actually, can I get a-.”

“Old fashioned, extra bitter. Make it a double,” a familiar voice interjected, Violet feeling her skin prickle unpleasantly. She turned, finding Dev standing behind the stool beside her. He smirked, his eyes roaming up and down Violet before he turned back to Ian and added in an attempt to impress, “Any bourbon from the top shelf. Put it on my tab.”

Ian’s eyes flicked to Violet in question, Violet shrugging slightly back at the bearded man. She wasn’t about to argue with a free drink no matter how deeply she loathed the presenter. Ian nodded and turned behind the bar to start on her drink. Dev leaned against the bar, so close that Violet could smell the cologne he had layered on and the booze on his breath.

“Hi, Vi,” he smirked, obviously pleased by his ability to recall her preferred drink, “Jesus, remember Katie’s wedding when you practically cleared the open bar? I had to carry you back to the hotel room?”

“Don’t do that,” she snapped, disdain dripping from her tongue. She kept her eyes on Ian’s back as he took orders on the other side of the bar, feeling Dev’s eyes on her as they rested on the neckline of her top. She crossed her arms, straightening up to glare back at him, “What do you want, Devrin?”

He held up his hands defensively, “I just want to talk. It’s been five months, after all. I thought we could catch up. Let me buy you dinner.”

Violet glanced over her shoulder to where John sat, finding him sitting up, watching her intensely from across the bar. He titled his head towards Dev and Violet immediately recognized in her tipsy state that he wasn’t addressing Cortana. He was addressing her. A silent request to her for permission as he waited for her to give the order; protective and intense from where he sat. She gave him a slight shake of the head, affirming that she had it handled. He nodded but remained sitting straight up with his eyes locked on her. Security settled into her as she turned back to Dev, still watching her expectantly.

“That’s not happening, Dev,” she stated, watching Ian pour her drink.

“Why not?”

“Because I would sooner drag my bare ass across broken glass than willingly spend a moment with you,” she replied coolly with a bounce of her shoulders. Ian slid her drink across the bar, Violet smiling at him in appreciation as her fingers wrapped around the tumbler. She took a long drink, Devrin’s face setting into a hard displeased line, “I’m seeing someone. I need to get back to my friends. Thanks for the drink.”

“I don’t see your friends,” he turned to face Violet, taking a step in front of where she stood in front of the counter, straightening up to his full height.

That anger that she had become so familiar with in the final months of their coupling glinted in his eyes at the rejection; every shouted insult and hateful word he had hurled at her coming roaring back to her mind. Violet refused to shrink to it in the way that she once had as she straightened up, lifting her chin as she met his eyes, finding his height lacking compared to what she had grown accustomed to.

“They’re hard to miss,” she hissed.

She made to step around him but Dev stepped with her, keeping her squared between himself and the bar. Panic bubbled in her as she stumbled backwards to escape the proximity he had put himself into her, her back colliding painfully with the sticky counter. Her drink sloshed onto her, Violet gasping as the cold alcohol collided with her skin.

“We could have been so good together, Vi,” he said, the way his head tilted towards hers making her skin crawl, “We were good together.”

“Get out of my way, Devrin,” she said firmly, hoping that her voice hadn’t shook as hard as her hands had begun to.

She tried to peek over his shoulder to where John sat, hoping her pleading look would be understood, but Devrin loomed over her. She swallowed hard, Dev’s hips pressing against hers as he pinned her to the bar. Her panic increased as the unwelcome weight of his body trapped her, feeling like an animal caught in a cage as she looked frantically around the bar. Certainly someone had to look up. Someone had to look her way and see the terror in her wide eyes. No one looked up, still chatting and laughing over their drinks as the song changed again. She raised a hand, giving his shoulder a hard shove, but Devrin didn’t budge.

“Get out of my way, Dev,” she repeated.

He caught her wrist in his hand, giving her a hard jerk to him, “I’m not done talking to you.”

Violet yelped out at the painful grab, desperately trying to twist out of his grip. Fear coursed through her, mingling with the alcohol in her blood; white hot and dizzying. Dev continued to try to speak with her, repeating how much he had missed her and beginning his groveling for her forgiveness she had heard a hundred times before. Music pounded from the speakers, Violet attempting to jerk her hand out of his grasp again, “You’re hurting me.”

Devrin just kept that tight grip on her, his other hand falling to rest on the counter beside her. She gasped as he came even closer, every ounce of senses screaming in protest to it. She felt every pound of her heart drumming in her chest, terror prickling her skin.

“I miss you, Vi,” Devrin pleaded.

Violet heard Ian shout at him as he crossed back to them from behind the bar. She tried to twist away again but Devrin only tightened his grip around her wrist. Violet leaned back, Devrin’s breath hot against her face as he leaned towards her, reeking of tequila and the cigarettes she knew him to sneak when he was thoroughly drunk.

“Hey, leave her alone!” A woman shouted from the other side of the bar, Violet puffing out a sigh of relief. Devrin’s head snapped up, shouting back at the woman to f*ck off before Ian crossed the bar. Fear continued to pound through her, rooting her to the spot, Violet unable to focus on anything but the roaring between her ears.

“John!” She called out, hardly able to recognize the panicked cry as her own.

“Hey, get off of-!”

Ian’s shout was cut off by Devrin’s startled gasp, his eyes widening in shock as he was yanked backwards, Violet’s eyes snapping shut. She no longer felt his hands on her, now able to breathe easier as she rubbed her wrist where his fingers had pressed into her skin. There were a few surprised shouts from the gathering around the bar; a pained cry punctuated by the sickening crunch of splintering bone cutting above the music.

Violet turned, finding John over Devrin from where he had him pinned face down to the bar by the back of his neck. Devrin’s nose gushed crimson onto the counter of the bar, jutting out at an odd angle, his cheek resting in the puddle of clear alcohol that crept into the red. John flipped Devrin over and the long haired man let out a pained gasp as his back slammed against the counter. One of John’s massive hands gripped the collar of his shirt, the other wrapped around the wrist of the hand that had grabbed her own. John didn’t shout; his eyes fixed on the man with that same intense stare she had seen across the bar that Violet didn’t recognize as his own. The warmth she knew had left them the moment Dev had stepped towards her, replaced by the eyes of the Master Chief.

“What the f*ck, man?” Dev shouted, wincing when John tightened his grip on him.

“Take it outside!” Ian shouted over the commotion, but John didn’t move.

“She told you to let her go,” he growled. Dev yelped out as John twisted his wrist back, “you should have listened.”

Dev cried out in pain again. Violet stepped to John’s side. He didn’t look up to her, that steely gaze still locked on Devrin. “John,” she said, “let him go.”

“You heard the bitch! Get the f*ck off of me!” Dev shouted. Ian shouted from the other side of the bar in a weak attempt to break up the altercation, the roar of conversation falling silent.

John chuckled. It wasn’t the low, lovely sound she knew. Instead, she was reminded of the days she had gone to the zoo with her father as a child and watched the lions in their enclosures; of the low rumbling growl that had made the hairs on her arms stand on end as they did now.

“That was a mistake,” he muttered.

John twisted Devrin’s hand back in a quick, sharp motion, Devrin’s roar of pain mingling with the snap of bone. Violet jumped at the sound with a gasp, Devrin still howling out. His wrist sat at an unnatural angle, sagging near the break in a way that made her gag. Her eyes widened at the sight of Devrin broken and bloodied, John unyielding as he kept him pinned to the bar by the collar of his shirt. Dev whimpered as John tightened his grip, his face expressionless.

Kai’s shoulder brushed against Violet as she passed her to John’s side, apologizing profusely to Ian who watched behind the bar. Meredith came to Violet’s side, her hand on her back as she took Violet’s wrist, examining the bruises that had already begun to blossom on pale skin.

“Are you okay?” Meredith gasped out, her eyes full of concern as she checked over her friend.

Violet only nodded, still watching John. Kai stood opposite of him, deadly calm as she observed the scene unfolding before her. Devrin watched John fearfully, holding his wrist to his hand, beard slick with blood.

“Chief,” Kai said firmly, her eyes locked on John’s unmoving back, “Let him go.”

“If you touch her again, I’ll send you back to that rock in a casket.” John growled, Devrin falling back against the bar as John released him.

He turned to Violet to question if she was alright, but his words caught in his throat at the side of her face. The warmth, the kindness that had filled her eyes was gone as she stared back at him. All that remained in the green was fear.

The precinct holding cell reeked of piss and vomit.

John sat with his back to the wall, staring across at the man who slept sprawled out on one of the aluminum benches, obviously still coming down from whatever drugs he was on. The man shivered as he slept, sweat beaded on his brow, the tattered tee shirt he wore yellowed and stained. His eyes fell to the open sores that littered the man’s bruised and discolored arms, looking away when the man muttered nonsense in his drug-induced haze.

NAPD had arrived shortly after he had let go of Devrin, the man still whimpering in pain as the officers responding to the call pushed through the dwindling crowd of bar goers. Ian had given Violet an apologetic look when Meredith turned on him to accuse him of being the caller, explaining that a concerned patron had called when they saw the battered man corner Violet. John had barely heard anything they had said when they arrived, nor Violet’s adamant declarations to the cops that Devrin had been the one to attack her and that John had come to her defense. He had only been able to think of that fear in her eyes when she looked at him; fear that he had put there.

Cortana had chirped in his ear throughout the entire ordeal, identifying this all as a new experience. She buzzed between his ears; giving John directions and explanations from the moment he had been cuffed, all throughout his booking, and even as he sat in the holding cell. She occasionally chastised as well, reminding John of the way it would look to ONI when they found out that the Master Chief got into a bar fight, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to respond.

He just sat, watching the three other men who paced the holding cell, the image of green eyes filled with fear burned into his memory. He had walked past Devrin as the officers led him out of the bar, Violet trailing behind and demanding to know the precinct number he was being taken to. Paramedics attended to Devrin from where he sat on the sidewalk, his face bloodied and bruised. The man had averted his eyes when John looked down at him. Anger still burned in John’s chest at the thought of his hands on her, the panic in her voice when she called for him ringing in his ears. He had seen combat his whole life. He had known more battles than he could count, but the anger had never lingered then like it did now. He allowed that anger to overcome him, every ounce of his self restraint dissolving away the moment Devrin pressed her against that counter and grabbed her wrist. He lost any semblance of control and even if just for a moment, it took away that warmth he so desperately needed her to look upon him with. He looked around again at the other men in the cell and wondered if he was any better than the strange gathering that surrounded him.

One of the men paced the length of the cell, his movements unsteady and voice slurred each time he tried to get the attention of every cop who passed by to ask when he could go home. Each ignored him, not evening bothering to make eye contact with him. Another sat across from John with bloodied and bruised fists. Rage radiated from the man as he leaned his back against the bars. The door leading to the squad room swung open with a burst of noise as an officer entered, clipboard in hand as he scribbled on his report. The man with bloodied fists recognized the officer and stood to approach him at the bars already shouting.

“This is f*cking bullsh*t,” he growled.

The officer didn’t look up, still writing, “Can you spell your last name for the report?”

“Yeah. It’s F-U-C-K-Y-O-.”

“Hey man, keep it up,” the officer interrupted, “We can go right ahead and add obstruction of justice to your DV charge if you want to play like that. Makes no difference to me. I was just hoping to save some time by not having to track down your wallet.”

“That’s bullsh*t. If the bitch hadn’t run her mouth, I wouldn’t have had to f*cking hit her.”

“That’s an admission of guilt, dipsh*t. Has no one ever told you to wait for a lawyer?” The officer snapped back, eyes narrowed at the man as his pen scratched across his report. The drunk man came to the bars, slurring out the same question he had repeated all night to the officer. The man hardly looked up from his report to acknowledge the question.

“You’re not going anywhere, Nathan. Get comfortable. This is the third time this week I’ve had to drag your ass in here. We should start charging you rent,” he called over to the drunk.

He crossed over to the female officer waiting at the squad room door to pass off the report. She pointed to John as she spoke to the officer, the man nodding before he turned back. The officer returned to the holding cell and approached the bars again, locking eyes with John and jerking his chin toward the door. “You’re going home,” he called, “Your girl posted your bail.”

John stood, watching as the man pressed his palm against the access scanner and the lock rolled in its tumbler. The officer pulled the door open and shouted at the drunk when he attempted to approach the open door as well, the inebriated man slinking back into the corner. John followed as he led him back through the squad room to the reception room John had been brought through when he arrived. He turned to John as he pressed his hand against the door’s scanner.

“For what it’s worth,” he said with a slight shrug, “If it had been my wife, I would have done the same sh*t.”

John gave him a curt nod as the door swung open, the cop gesturing him through before turning back into the squad room. Violet stood at a desk with another officer, and John couldn’t think of a place less fitting for the woman. Dark circles ringed her eyes, made darker by the buzzing fluorescent lighting that made her sun kissed skin appear gaunt. The place stole the glow that had rivaled any city lights mere hours ago, John feeling that same loathing he had felt all night as he remembered he was to one to put her in that place.

The officer pointed to the paperwork laid out in front of Violet, explaining to her where to sign as her pen hovered over them. Violet brushed her hair behind an ear as she nodded, pen scraping with each of her looping signatures. She looked up at John as he came through the door, the smile that usually greeted him absent as her exhausted eyes returned to the final page. He stood uncomfortably in the doorway as she signed a final time and held the pen back out to the officer.

“Are we done?” she asked, the woman nodding in confirmation. She handed the officer her pen back with a tight lipped smile, “Thank you.”

“Thanks for being so patient,” the officer responded, “We usually don’t get partners who are willing to wait all night.”

She only nodded and arms crossed over her chest as the officer gathered the paperwork, turning towards the squad room doors. The officer stepped in front of John with an expectant look, John realizing he blocked the doors from where he stood. Violet still waited beside the counter with crossed arms with that too tired impassive look.

Violet didn’t utter a word the entire walk back to her apartment, her silence louder than any battlefield he had ever stepped foot on. It sat in him, heavy and uncomfortable with each step they took down the walking paths of the park. John counted the steps down Cornelia Street to her building, hoping that it would chase away the roaring between her ears caused by her quiet as they neared her door. He felt undeserving of each step as they neared the white building, not a single light shining from it onto the pond. Violet stepped in first and blocked Sadie as she bombarded the door in a series of barks and howls.

John lingered in the doorway, staring in at the dark apartment and wondered if there was still a place for him among the plants and quiet calm that laid beyond the entryway. Violet kicked off her heeled boots at the door with a relieved sigh. She leaned against the wall and gave one foot a hard rub before rolling out her ankles. John stepped into the apartment, the door swinging shut behind him. That same stolid expression remained on her face as she threw her jacket on the hook, that bright Violet smile left behind at the bar. She had been so joyful, so happy dancing and laughing until he took that from her in one impulsive moment of rage and replaced it with fear. He worried that fear would linger in the same way his anger did; if it would ever dissolve away and if that warm look would return to the way she looked at him. He felt like a rabid dog she had brought home to rehabilitate only to learn that despite her best efforts, would still bite without knowing the reason why.

“He’s not pressing charges,” she called over her shoulder as she padded towards the kitchen. Sadie bared her teeth as she yawned, stretching before trotting after Violet. “Meredith was able to talk him out of it after we left. She feels like sh*t, by the way. I guess she told him what bars we were going to tonight and didn’t expect him to show up. Doesn’t mean the prosecuting attorney won’t. We can cross that bridge when we get there, though.”

John didn’t give a sh*t about that; he knew it would get swept under the rug by the ONI if it came to that with a few strokes of a pen and some bureaucratic bullsh*t. He’d get scolded like a naughty child in some office and Keyes would have his ass until the Admiral decided he’d gotten his point across. Her words hit him in the gut as she spoke for the first time since the precinct; there was no anger in her tone. Only sincerity as she explained what could come and how they would navigate it together. She should be angry, he thought, she should be furious. He had been reprimanded before for wrongdoings. She should be shouting, scolding, yelling, something. But instead, she padded through the kitchen while he watched from where he stood rooted in the living room as she filled a glass from the tap and rubbed at her tired eyes. He didn’t know what to do with it; with the silence she left in her wake as she continued with the night as if he hadn’t done a damned thing.

“Just say it,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet. He almost didn’t recognize it as his own; so small and quiet.

“Say what, John?” she asked, leaning against the counter as she sipped from the glass.

“Just say you're angry,” he explained, “Yell, shout, do something. I’d prefer it over this.”

“Over what?”

“Over you pretending that everything that happened tonight is fine. Pretending that you aren’t angry.”

She blinked at him, the only sound in the room that of her glass tapping against the countertop as she set it down. She only watched him with those eyes, full of the patience he didn’t deserve.

“I’m not angry with you, John.”

He didn’t understand it. Any of it. Her constant grace, her ever present patience. He had taken away her night with her friend; the effervescence he had watched radiate from her in a single moment and made her spend hours in some sh*tty downtown precinct. The man who would come after him and someday deserve Violet Harris wouldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t look at that man with fear in her eyes. He wouldn’t attack some drunk asshole in a bar and force her to bail him out of f*cking jail. That man would have made sure her evening ended with her in their bed sleeping off the alcohol before he would have to drag her from the next morning to prepare for her busy day ahead, not dealing with police procedures on his behalf.

Their bed. He wondered if she would even view it that way after this.

Violet just stood in the kitchen, that bit of warmth returning to her eyes as she watched him in the dark. She was silent as she crossed the room to him, her arms wrapping around his middle, her head on his chest. She drew in a shaky breath as she looked up at him with nothing but warmth in her misty green eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He just didn’t f*cking understand it. He had attacked a man in a bar, he had ruined her night, he had spent the night in jail and here she stood thanking him for it. Violet, in all of her graciousness and goodness, half asleep with aching feet from standing on linoleum floors surrounded by drunks and junkies as they came in and out of that precinct, still meeting him with her tender words and gentle touch. He only knew three ways to react to people; to obey, to help, or to neutralize. He simply didn’t know how to react to her.

“Why me?” he asked, the words escaping his mouth before he could even think them.

She looked up at him, her hands pressed against his chest in the same way they had been so many nights before, “Why not you?”

“I’m serious, Violet,” he stepped out of her touch, “I don’t understand it.”

Violet looked up at him, confusion riddling her face, her hands raised where his body should have met them, “What’s wrong?”

“This,” he whispered, Violet’s brows scrunching together, “This is wrong, Vi. We’re wrong. You deserve more than this.”

“Don’t do that,” she whispered, reaching for his hand. John kept it at his side and a soft gasp escaped her lips. John felt something he didn’t know was there shatter inside of him at the sound. “Don’t tell me what I deserve. This is enough for me.”

“Don’t tell me it’s enough,” he shook his head, “That I would ever be enough for you. Don’t stand there and tell me I’m not taking things away from you.”

“And what is it you think you're taking from me, John? Make me understand, because I just can’t.”

He met her gaze, the look in her eyes wounding him more than any weapon could. Violet looked up at him, those green eyes wet with tears and lip quivering, betrayal evident in every shaky breath she took. He had seen death, he had seen atrocities; but he had never seen pain quite like he did in the way she looked at him. It made him feel ill, loathing bubbling in his gut as he hated himself for being the one to put that pain into eyes it never belonged within.

“This,” he gestured to the dark apartment around them, his arms dropping to his sides, “this. What your parents have. What Katie has. All of those things I know you want. You aren’t going to get that from me, Violet.”

He stopped in the living room, Sadie trotting past him towards the bedroom door with tail tucked. Violet only shook her head, arms crossed across her chest as she sniffled, blinking back tears. She followed Sadie to the bedroom, her back to him as she stood in the doorway.

"That won't ever be us, goose,” he continued, pointing towards the photographs that rested on the shelves, “A house, a backyard, a tree wrapped in lights; you aren’t going to get that from me. My life is barracks and the cargo bay of Condors. It’s never going to be anything other than that. I'm here now, sure, but Silver Team wasn't always based on Reach. We spent two years forward-deployed during the Siege of the Atlas Moons. Before that, we were never in the same place for more than six months. How is that a life you want?"

“I don’t give a sh*t about any of that, John!” She gasped out, turning to face him in the doorway of the bedroom.

“Don’t lie to me, Violet.”

“I’m not lying,” she snapped, “Yes, there was a time in which I wanted that. But all of that changed, all of that went away when I met you.”

“Why?” He scoffed, raising his hands in question, “Why give that up for me? I don’t get it, Vi.”

“Because I’m in love with you!”

Her words pounded through him like a sucker punch, Violet hiccuping out a sob from where she stood, her hands shaking. His words caught in his throat, John swallowing them down with that twist in his chest. Violet shook her head as a wet chuckle bubbled from her lips.

“And how dare you assume that my love for you is that fickle,” she whispered, tears cutting through the makeup on her cheeks. Her voice shook with emotion, fierce and unabashed.

“I don’t care if I get four more months, four more years, or the rest of our lives. I want you. I love you. I don’t give a sh*t if I have to follow you from one planet to the next. I don’t care what I have to face, what I have to sacrifice, or what you think you’re taking away from me. I’m not giving anything up by staying. I’m giving everything up if I leave. None of the rest matters to me if I have to do it with someone else. I made this choice. I’m making it every day. I need you to make it with me, John.”

Silence hung heavy between the two, John staring across the room to where she stood before the bedroom door. Her green eyes shone wet with tears, a smudge of black makeup on her cheek that he wanted nothing more than to wipe from her lovely face. In all the times he had heard his name, it had never been spoken more true than it had from her lips. It was as if she knew him in every letter; painting him in hues he had never seen in the utterance of the single syllable. She spoke it, and he was alive for the first time. More than he had ever been in his entire lifetime before. Her chest heaved as she took a steadying breath, watching him with those f*cking eyes full of everything he wasn’t. So kind and loving and so full of grace.

His head spun, thoughts and words coming to him in fractures that he couldn’t force out. Violet just watched him with the patience he didn’t know himself to deserve, observing him like one of her blooms she plucked from the sidewalks. His whole life had revolved around battle. It had been combat and strategy. It had made sense every time, little area for gray to sink into. But nothing in his training could have ever prepared him for this. For the bit of gold that had jogged its way into the fractures of those plans one day beside a pond in a park. None of it had prepared him for the goodness that was Violet Harris.

So he did what any soldier would do when they could no longer advance.

He retreated.

She called his name as the door swung shut behind him, John leaving himself behind in the single syllable.

Chapter 18: Flashes and Blinks

Chapter Text

Violet Harris: You work through whatever you need to work through. I don’t care how long it takes. I’m not giving up on us this easily, John. I’m still here, and I’ll continue to be here until you’re ready. The door will be unlocked like always. Come home the right way. I love you.

(Read at 5:16am)

Violet stared down at the message with fuzzy eyes in the same way she had all day. She slid her finger down the screen in an experimental refresh, but the thread bounced back the same, her final message sent forty minutes before he started PT still staring up at her. She rubbed her face with a tired sigh, her eyes tight and bloodshot with exhaustion. She hadn’t slept after the door swung shut behind him. Violet had sat on the couch in the dim light of the lamp she had turned on, a mug of tea growing cold on the coffee table. She watched the door with bated breath as the hours passed and the sun peeked over the horizon, their final words rolling over and over in her mind. You deserve more , w e’re wrong. The phrases chased each other in a constant loop as she sat in the day’s meetings, half listening as she willed herself away with cup of coffee after cup of coffee.

She didn’t give a damn what he thought she deserved. If it wasn’t him, she wanted nothing.

Meredith had brought Violet her first cup of the morning as a peace offering, silently slipping the comically large cup in front of her friend. Violet just gave her a tight lipped smile, grateful for the momentary relief the caffeine brought from her pounding headache. Meredith had launched into an apology, but Violet didn’t want it. She raised a hand to stop her and patted the seat next to her in invitation. Meredith slipped into it, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

“Is he okay?” Meredith whispered, “Are you guys okay?”

“No,” Violet whispered back. It sat in her like a stone, too heavy and tight, “No, Mer. We’re not.”

Meredith just squeezed her hand again and, for the first time in Violet’s knowing of her, was silent.

Violet bit down on the respirator, taking an experimental puff through the mouthpiece. She was met with a pneumatic hiss and the slightly metallic taste of canned air as she tugged her goggles over her eyes. She turned, waddling backwards into the water in an attempt to not stumble over her flippers, giving her goggles a tight push to seal them against her face. The warm waters of The Sea welcomed her as she stepped into the shallow end. The artificial currents rocked her gently, the waters crawling higher up her body as she trekked backwards. Violet allowed herself to fall backwards and slip under the waters, the muffled rumble of rising bubbles filling her ears. A rainbow of fish swirled around her, Violet kicking her feet and descending into the waters with a few pumps of her arms.

The Sea had replaced the Jungle as her favorite greenhouse. She grew to appreciate the quiet calm of the underwater ecosystem as the months passed. It was exactly what she needed after the day’s uncomfortable itinerary and the knowing stares of her colleagues when it was announced that Doctor Johal would no longer be able to attend, due to his needing emergency surgery after an ‘unfortunate accident’. She needed the escape, she needed the quiet. She needed to think. She needed to chase away the minutes until five in the evening came and ignore her uncertainty that he would be at her office door to collect her when the time came.

Violet watched as a silvery blue spearfish slunk below her to disappear into the forest of tall kelp that swayed at the bottom of the pool, orange and pink coral systems a metropolis to the fish that swirled around it. Violet turned herself over, breath hissing through the respirator, and kicked downward towards the kelp. She disappeared into it like the fish, hoping that the green could offer her the same solace it did the creatures who resided there. A sea turtle hid among the stalks and munched absently upon the leaves. It turned its mottled head to the woman and watched her with dark glassy eyes before turning away to retreat into the green.

Violet ran her hands along the flat leaves, watching the long stalks bend with the current and the sands shift along the bottom of the pool. Her breaths bubbled from the respirator in front of her and climbed to the surface. Polka dotted triggerfish wove around her in groups, Violet focusing on their graceful movements instead of the thoughts that seemed to pound in her head harder than her headache had. The fish swam past her into the kelp before turning upwards as if summoned by an invisible force.

Violet’s eyes followed them upwards, falling on the distorted surface above. The harsh UV lights above flickered out and cast darkness down upon the waters below, Violet bubbled out a confused noise as they quickly flashed back on. She continued to watch the surface as the light blinked on and off in a strange rhythm; some flashes longer than the others as the odd pattern repeated. Violet kicked off the bottom in a cloud of sand, propelling herself up to the blinking surface. She spat out the respirator as she breached, the mechanism splashing into the water.

The lights continued to blink as they repeated the series of long flashes and quick blinks. Violet looked around at the staff who all appeared quite miffed the anomaly as they continued their work. A few grumbled out in frustration when the lights cut out, illuminating in a wink of light before going out again. Violet tread water as she watched the lights with furrowed brow as the pattern repeated again; short blink, long flash, long flash, long flash… long, long, long… short, short, short, short… long, short…

The pattern started over, Violet finding a familiarity to the pattern that she just couldn’t place. A horticulturalist passed by the workstations, cursing under his breath as the lights flashed.

“Hey, Daniels!” Violet called out. The horticulturalist stopped, looking around for her voice before his eyes settled on Violet below, “What’s going on with the light?”

The man shrugged, “We aren’t sure, Doctor. They started doing it while you were under. I put in a call to electrical; they’ll have someone over in an hour or two to check it out.”

“Any way to get someone down here faster than that? Those lights keep us temperature controlled,” Violet called back, still watching the lights curiously.

The pattern repeated again, eerie familiarity prickling her spine as she watched, trying to make sense of the random flashes that felt so quite the opposite.

Short blink, long flash, long flash, long flash… long, long, long… short, short, short, short… long, short…

“I’ll put in another call, ma’am,” Daniels responded as he turned to walk back to the comm system on the wall.

“Wait,” Violet called. The man stopped, turning back to her, Violet’s eyes still turned to the lights, “it’s repeating. Did you notice that it’s repeating?”

“I’m not sure, ma’am. It’s probably faulty wiring.”

Violet shook her head as the pattern repeated. Short blink, long flash, long flash, long flash… long, long, long… short, short, short, short… long, short…

Violet watched the lights ebb only to cut out, casting darkness over the greenhouse. The whole building winked around her. She was reminded of flashlights at campsites as a girl; the series of flashes her dad had taught her and her cousins so they could communicate between tents in the dark. Bill sat with her and Katie and the rest of the Harris children around the fire, showing them how to use their palm to cover the beam of light for each letter. They had spent hours with flashlights in hand, winking silly words to one another from under their palms with fits of giggles until their parents would take them away and shoo them off to their sleeping bags. She and Katie had continued to use it as they grew, both using it to signal the all clear to the other before sneaking in and out as teenagers.

She was reminded of basic training and the groans and grumbles from others about outdated communication methods. While others had complained, Violet had felt a touch of home in the unfamiliar place. She stifled a gasp at the realization and swam towards the edge of the pool, waiting for the pattern to repeat as she dug through the corners of her memory for the code she had believed she would have no use for other than tents and shimmying through windows. f*ck, she thought, what did they mean? What did each flash mean?

Short blink, long flash, long flash, long flash… long, long, long… short, short, short, short… long, short…

Juliet… Oscar… Hotel… November…

J… o… h… n…

John.

Violet’s heart dropped, palms pressing against the rough surface of the floors as she pushed herself up, legs still dangling in the water. Her head snapped to where Daniels stood beside the comm system, complaining to another horticulturist about the potential for seizures as the lights continued to flash.

“Daniels!” She shouted, the man turning to face her again. She pointed above to the rows of lights, still flashing out their message, “The flashes! When did they start?”

“About ten minutes ago, ma’am.”

“What happened ten minutes ago? Before they started?”

Daniels watched her as if she had sprouted a second head. “Um, I’m not really sure, ma’am. We got a call over the PA about a half hour ago, and they started about twenty minutes-.”

“About what?” She gasped out. “The call; what was it for?”

“It didn’t pertain to us, Doctor Harris.”

“I didn’t ask if it pertained to us, Daniels,” she snapped, the man straightening up at her steely tone, “I asked what the call was for.”

“It was a call for Brokkr teams, ma’am.”

Violet heaved herself from the pool with a series of splashes, her respirator tumbling to the jagged plaster of the pool deck. Daniels looked to the other horticulturists in confusion as she ripped off her oxygen packs and goggles, tempered glass bouncing off of the pool deck and slipping under the surface of the waters when she yanked them over her head. “I am to be made aware of anything pertaining to Spartan teams moving forward, Daniels. Am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Violet didn’t wait for his response before she turned on her heel. She kicked off the flippers as she sprinted towards the exit, leaving behind her a trail of saltwater and bewildered stares as she burst through the door. Violet stopped when she stepped out into the sticky summer heat. Saltwater trickled from her hair and stung at her eyes, Violet raking her fingers through it in an attempt to slick it out of her face. Panic rose in her chest as she looked around her, desperately trying to map the quickest route to the hangars. She couldn’t remember a damned thing about the layout of FLEETCOM in her state. She couldn’t think, her thoughts clouded by only one thought that beat through her like a thundering drum; Get there. Get there. Get there.

Violet took off in a run again. Her feet pounded against the concrete, Violet ignoring the painful scrapes and bites of the hard surface on her bare skin. She didn’t have time to care, she didn’t have time to stop and pick out the rocks that had pierced her flesh; enough time had already been wasted. She stayed steadfast in her sprint despite the way her lungs screamed, despite the uncomfortable rub of the wet neoprene of her wetsuit against her skin, despite the painful ache of her muscles. She could feel that pain later. She needed to get there now. She’d be damned if she let him get on that ship without telling him; really telling him. Some f*cking message wasn’t enough for her. She didn’t care what he thought she deserved or what he thought she was sacrificing. She wouldn’t let him get on that ship without him knowing her love was greater than the fear she had seen ooze from him the night before in the dark of the living room. That she’d love him enough for the both of them if she had to. He could drag her straight into the pits of Hell and she would still walk beside him, as long as he kept holding her hand.

Her feet slipped out from under her as she ducked inside, Violet sliding against polished floors as she turned a corner. She caught herself with outstretched arms and her leg twisted uncomfortably. Uniforms stopped to stare as she regained her footing, her scarred thigh throbbing with the unnatural tug her fall caused. She continued her run, scanning the hallways for the closest lifts. She let out a frustrated groan at the gathering that had formed in front of the doors; too many people with too many destinations. She knew she didn’t have that time. Her thigh tightened painfully as she ran, the damaged muscle crying out with the exertion. She allowed herself a wince at the throb.

A group of fatigued women passed into the hallway ahead of her, huddled closely as they talked. Violet vaguely recognized one of them, the dark haired woman looking up to the dripping wet, barefooted, panting woman who sprinted the halls like a maniac. She gave Violet a concerned look, calling to her friends to move as Violet quickly approached. Her warning fell on deaf ears as the women continued to talk and stopped in the hallway. Violet didn’t slow, instead colliding with one of the women. They both tumbled to the ground with a surprised grunt.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” Violet called out. She rolled off of the surprised woman, pushing herself up and continuing down the hall. “So sorry!”

There was a flash of cobalt in her peripheral, Violet turning towards the familiar series of flashes. The blue blinked at her from the emergency light above a stairwell doorway; Short blink, long flash, long flash, long flash… long, long, long… short, short, short, short… long, short… Violet didn’t wait for the lights to finish flashing before turning toward the doorway and yanking the door open. The emergency lights blinked the same cobalt overhead, leading her down the stairwell in a series of blanks. Violet stopped to watch the lights blink in succession, guiding her path like a runway. She allowed herself a chuffed laugh.

“Cortana?” she whispered.

“Took you long enough,” Cortana’s bright voice called through the PA speakers, “You don’t have much time, Doctor Harris. Silver Team is wheels up in seven minutes. From my calculations of your average speed, it will take you approximately-.”

“Can you get me there before then?” Violet interrupted, starting her speedy descent down the stairs. Her body ached, her head pounded, she gasped for breath.

“I will try my best, Doctor Harris. Follow my lead.”

Violet huffed out a laugh, turning to descend the next flight of stairs, “I could kiss you, you know.”

Cortana’s own laugh bubbled from the speakers, “Save it for the Chief. Six minutes, Doctor Harris. Take the next three flights and then exit the stairwell. I’ll light the way.”

Violet nodded, quickening her pace. She took the stairs two at a time, hand skimming the handrail as she looped downward. She counted the flights, stopping at the third and pushing the door open. Cortana continued to light the way with blinks of blue light, the roar of engines filling Violet’s ears as she neared the hangar. Her body ached but she refused to allow herself to slow. The roaring grew louder, Violet able to make out the Condor at the edge of the hangar as it received final preparations and checks. Eyes followed her as she ran, whispers of Mrs. 117 following her out onto the tarmac. Violet ignored each one as she searched the crowd for a glint of green. Kai towered over the sea of uniforms in her armor, helmet tucked under an arm as she walked towards the open mouth of the ship and disappeared up the ramp.

Violet popped onto her toes, scanning the busy hangar. Her heart pounded, her head spinning as she counted down the final seconds to their departure. She could hear shouts over the roar, his voice cutting through the noise. She turned in the direction of the welcome noise and caught a flash of gold and green. Violet’s shoulders dropped in relief, willing her aching feet to move once more as she started to weave through the hangar to where he stood. She could see him just ahead, helmet covering his face as he barked out orders. Vannak passed behind him as he jogged towards the ship, Riz following after. Violet kept her eyes on his back as he turned towards the ship himself, panic bubbling in her chest as the distance between them increased with each one of his steps.

“John!” she shouted. Her voice was lost to the roar of the engines. She called again, but his name was drowned each time it left her lips.

She broke into a jog again, but she caught shoulders with another as they passed. She called out her apology as she steadied herself, turning back to the ship. She watched him board, heart dropping with each of his heavy footsteps up the ramp. She could only watch as the ramp raised behind him and sealed off, his name caught on her lips.

The rot settled in as the ship pulled away from the hangar. Heavy and all encompassing.

She felt someone grip her arm, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the skies to turn towards them.

“Jesus, Violet!” Miranda’s voice called from beside her. Miranda looked over her friend, taking in the sight of the barefoot and wetsuited woman beside her. Her eyes fell to Violet’s feet with a slight gasp at the scraped and sliced flesh. Violet’s feet oozed red into the tarmac, a trail of crimson footprints trailing her path behind her, “Your feet are bleeding! What the hell were you thinking?”

Violet didn’t respond as she watched the ship depart, carrying him away until it disappeared into the atmosphere. She felt Miranda beside her as she wrapped her arm around Violet’s shoulder, speaking to her softly as she turned Violet away from the gaping mouth of the hangar. But Violet didn’t hear what the woman said, green eyes still fixed upon the skies.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Chapter 19: Bathroom Conversations

Chapter Text

Violet walked home alone through the park that night with aching feet.

The medics in the sick bay had spent the better part of an hour picking shards of glass and sharp pebbles out of the soles of her feet. Miranda stayed with her as long as she could, holding Violet’s hand as they sat in silence while the medics worked on her. She had needed five stitches between both feet, but Violet hadn’t heard any of the discharge instructions she had been given, nor did she feel the tight buzzing of the local anesthetic that had numbed her from the ankles down. She never felt the pain of the foreign bodies that littered her skin, or the tugs of each as they were dislodged from her. She thought only of the pained look in his eyes in the dark of her living room and the slamming of the door. It echoed through her mind; lingering with the roar of engines and the glint of green as it disappeared behind the ramp.

She walked the paths through the park with bandaged feet. They carried her past the pond where the geese swam, past the grassy field where he would throw the ball for Sadie, past the walking signal he would kiss her beside each evening while they waited for the signal to change. She walked Cornelia Street to her door alone to an empty apartment where she slipped off her shoes in the space next to where his own boots should have sat beside them. Sadie was upon her as soon as the door opened, licking her hands and peeking out into the hallway curiously before following Violet down the entryway.

Each step tugged her sutures uncomfortably. Violet padded into the living room, carefully keeping her weight on her heels as she walked to open the balcony doors. Evening sunlight bathed the room, casting its shadows across the walls and flooding the room with warm summer air that carried the sounds of the musicians in the amphitheater. She didn’t feel the warmth, instead feeling like she could have been standing in front of the open refrigerator door as the chill climbed through her limbs; bitter and painful. Her eyes fell to the small iron table that sat beside the chair on the balcony. His book sat there still, dogeared where he had left off his reading to answer the door for Kai when she arrived the night before. She’d find him there most evenings after she cleared away dinner dishes; Sadie at his feet as he read one of her books from the shelves or watched the park below him. That same ache she felt each time he was gone settled into her as she wondered how long it would be before she could look up from the island and see him there again. If she ever would again. Or if that final slam of the door had punctuated the story of them for good.

Or, god forbid, if he didn’t come home at all.

Violet swallowed it down before the thought could take root in her like a weed. She pushed it back as it gnawed its way to the forefront of her mind, ugly and determined, refusing to acknowledge the way it screamed at her. The smell of saltwater still filled her nose as she turned from the balcony. Violet gave her still damp hair a sniff, nose wrinkling at the briny scent of the Sea that still lingered. She needed a shower, she thought. She needed to crawl into bed and disappear for a while. Perhaps hot water and a good cry would melt away the chill that had settled into her. Sadie followed behind her as she crossed to the bedroom door, the dog trotting into the room ahead of her to leap onto the bed. Sadie rolled around on Violet’s side, snapping at the unmade bedding playfully. Violet couldn’t bring her eyes to the dog, instead staring at the tight hospital corners he had folded the sheets on his side into before leaving for PT the morning before. She couldn’t pull herself from the spot, unable to cross the threshold into the room as she gripped the door frame. Her eyes traced over the splintered wood of the bed frame that hung over his pillow.

Anger replaced the ache as she stared at her bed. At their bed. Violet couldn’t look at a single inch of the apartment without finding him in it. That anger bubbled in her chest, her lungs too tight with each breath. She should have stayed above water instead of hiding out like some f*cking coward. She should have marched herself down to their training facilities that morning instead of settling for a message and told him everything that was on her heart and demanded that he come back home. She should have pulled her head out of her ass and looked up at the lights sooner. She shouldn’t have allowed some f*cking prick that she never loved to ruin the one real thing she’s ever known. She should have run faster; harder. Paid better attention to her surroundings and not wasted precious seconds slipping and running into others. What was the point of her daily runs if she couldn’t f*cking get there ?

She should have been there. She should have been there to kiss him goodbye and say the words she’s known for months. How long would she have to wait until she could? How many weeks? Months? She shuddered at the thought and pulled the bedroom door closed.

She took careful steps back to the couch and plopped down. Sadie leapt up beside her, licking her salty face before tucking herself between Violet’s side and the back of the couch, sighing as she laid her head on Violet’s leg. She stared up at the ceiling and listened to the sounds of the musicians in the park floating through the windows, hoping that focusing on each note would distract her from the ache that buzzed through her as she watched shadows climb across the paint.

A rhythmic knock at the door interrupted her moment of quiet. Meredith wasted no time in pulling open the unlocked door and letting herself in, arms full of various takeout bags and boxes as she kicked off her shoes and sent them tumbling out into the living room. Violet’s eyes followed her from the door to the kitchen island wordlessly. Meredith dropped the bags onto the island and greeted Sadie when the dog leapt off the couch to meet her. She dug through the bags, procuring enough foam containers to feed a small family.

“I wasn’t sure what you would be in the mood for, so I got a bit of everything for an ultimate comfort food feast,” Meredith explained as she laid out the various containers on the island, pointing to each as she listed off their contents.

“Chicken soup dumplings, sweet and sour pork. I got pizza, garlic bread, and that gross mushroom ravioli sh*t you like from Bertoglio’s. Tikka masala and samosas from that place on 3rd Ave, and I bought a whole strawberry cheesecake from Sugar & Butter. What can I bring you first? Or should I just bring the cheesecake and a fork?”

Violet tried to offer her friend an appreciative smile but her face refused to cooperate. She let her head fall against the back of the couch and watched Meredith root through her cabinets for flatware.

“I’m not hungry, Mer,” she called over the clinking of dishes, “I appreciate it though. You should go out and enjoy your-.”

“Shut the f*ck up,” Meredith called over her shoulder, “You need to eat. I’m not playing into your sad-girl-hunger-strike bullsh*t, Harris. What do you want on your plate? Nevermind, I’m bringing over the cheesecake.”

Violet watched as Meredith found her silverware drawer and retrieved two forks before carrying over the outrageously large cheesecake to where she sat to deposit it onto the coffee table. She stabbed the forks into the berry-coated surface before turning to where Violet sat. Meredith’s eyes fell to her bandaged feet before she looked up to meet her friend’s absent stare with a gentle sympathetic smile.

“Your run is the talk of the base right now,” she said softly, “I heard, like, twelve people talking about it when I went to leave today. Pretty badass, Mrs. 117.”

“I didn’t make it,” Violet whispered.

“I know,” Meredith sighed, pulling the yellow blanket from its perch on the back of the couch. She undid John’s neat fold and draped it over Violet’s lap before settling onto the couch beside her. Violet fell into her broad shoulder as Meredith tucked her own feet under the blanket. She wrapped her arm around her friend, pressing her cheek against Violet’s still damp hair. “You tried like hell though. I think he would appreciate that.”

Meredith didn’t speak again after that. Violet began to pick at her thumbnails, breathing in his clean scent that still lingered on the blanket. Meredith placed a hand over her own wordlessly and gave it a tight squeeze. Violet clung to her hand, anchoring herself to her. Meredith had been there for all of her major breakups, if that’s even what this was; a steady presence that always seemed to know exactly how she was needed despite her rowdy ways.

She had been there for the guy Violet had dated during the doctoral program when they mutually ended things upon graduation. Meredith had taken her out to some dive bar where they had spent the night hustling drunk men out of their money over games of pool to pay for their drinks. They ended the night on a swing set in the park in the early morning hours, giggling and dreaming of the good they would do with the Ph.Ds they would soon add behind their names. Meredith had been there for Dev and bore witness to all of Violet’s anger and fear. She had brushed her tears from her cheeks and listened to Violet cry and scream over the words she wished she had said and for not being just a little bit braver each time he backed her into the corner. Meredith had bribed with one of the night guards to let them up onto the roof of one of the greenhouses where they watched the sun set on the flat horizon and ate freezer-burned ice cream sandwiches until Violet was ready to climb back down. It was no different from where Meredith sat on the other side of the couch with nothing but patience, waiting for Violet to tell her what she needed. Nothing came to her. The ability to think was overcome by the ache that pulsed through her. She instead just stared at her friend, her eyes unfocused as they looked beyond her to the bedroom door.

“He left, Mer,” she whispered. Violet wasn’t sure which instance she spoke of; the slamming of the door and roar of engines still echoing through her mind.

“He’ll come back,” Meredith stated, leaning forward to scoop a forkful of cheesecake and nudge Sadie away from where she sat beside the coffee table salivating.

“You don’t know that,” Violet responded, baffled by the casualty of her friend’s statement. She said it like she was sure; like restating the anatomy of a plant and the functions of each part. Meredith only shrugged, bringing her fork to her mouth.

“He will, Vi.”

“How do you know? What if he doesn’t?”

“He caught a whole ass charge for you last night, Harris,” she said through a mouthful of cheesecake, “He’d drag himself back home to you if he had to, trust me. Kai basically said so herself when she walked me back to the hotel. He’s either totally in love with you, or you have some top tier, next level, magical Spartan-taming puss*. I’m going with the first option.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” she gasped out, her voice breaking with a wet sob. She sat up, Meredith meeting her stare as she allowed herself to feel the fear that had haunted her each time he was deployed as she voiced it aloud. “What if he doesn’t and those are the last things we said to each other? What if that’s the last memory of me, of us , he has? I can’t live with that, Meredith.”

Meredith only held her hand, uncharacteristically quiet as she watched her friend. Violet swallowed down the sob that bobbed in her throat, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. She waited for Meredith to meet her with a string of expletives and a dirty joke like she usually would, but this time was different. This time she just looked back at her, waiting to listen. Violet felt her lip quiver and she was unable to hold back any longer. She threw her arms around Meredith, the blonde pulling her tightly against her as Violet began to cry.

“I love him, Mer.”

She sobbed out the words that she had known since that first moment in the park as she clung to her friend. That feeling she felt inside of her as soon as his eyes met hers without truly knowing what it was. That had flown from her mouth the night before only to be met by his bewildered gaze. She loved him; in every sense of the notion. In every breath she took, in every word she spoke, in every second she spent in the pull of his magnetic force. Spartans never die; she had heard him say it before. Spartans may never die, but she would. If he went, part of her would go with him. She would never be the same. She knew John would take every ounce of her with him in the same way he did every time he disappeared into the stars.

That part of her remained in the stars for over a month with no sign of return. Violet was left with the rot that sat heavy in her stomach with each passing day.

Meredith left the following evening with tearful goodbyes and a curt nod to Dev as he entered the ship, broken wrist wrapped in a cast. Violet reserved herself to her office in the days following the meetings, throwing herself back into her work in a desperate attempt to distract herself. Every PA call made her jump in her seat, craning her neck to listen desperately for any sign of him. She refused to leave her office, splitting her time between her monitors and the labs. She sent horticulturists and lab techs between the greenhouses, overwhelmed by the notion of being caught underwater again and missing another call. Miranda still visited her office every Tuesday and Thursday for lunch like she had over the previous months, but neither woman had much to say. Their lunchtime conversations had usually been full of laughter and gossip about reality stars, but they instead ate in silence. Occasionally, Violet would be brave enough to ask for statuses on Silver Team. Each time, Miranda would squeeze her hand and remind her that she didn’t have the clearance for that information with an apologetic smile. f*ck clearance , she would want to scream, just tell me he’s alive.

She spent most of her evenings in her office just in case the call would come. Night would fall in an inky blanket over the city before she would finally return home to an angry dog demanding dinner and to be walked. Violet didn’t lock the door behind her and would leave the entryway lights on, just in case.

She slept on the sofa every night he was gone. She couldn’t bring herself to pass through the doorway into the bedroom; it felt too big, too empty. The silence of the empty room was far more deafening than his snoring had ever been. His alarm would go off every morning at four, and she would be there to meet it before the first chime could even finish. Most mornings, she would turn and retreat to the bathroom once the chiming stopped, unable to look at the bed.

One morning during the fourth week she lingered beside the side he slept on, staring down at the tight folds he had stretched the sheets into in contrast with the mess of sheets she left her own in. It drove him crazy, he had told her as much every time they got into bed how he just couldn’t understand how she could leave such a mess. She would just smile and kiss him, knowing that the sheets would end up in a tangle at the foot of the bed by the end of the night anyway. But he still took the extra few minutes when he woke to pull them back over her and make his side before pressing a kiss to her forehead. She stared down at the heap before stepping to her side of the bed and seizing the crumpled bedding. She stretched the sheets across the mattress, matching his crisp folds and tight corners before smoothing down the comforter with her hand.

Jane called her daily to ask for updates, and every day Violet had nothing new to share. Part of her wished that she would stop calling. She selfishly wanted the questions about John to stop, for her mother to carry her own worry without dropping the weight onto her. Yet, Violet found herself relying on the calls as the days went on. Her mom’s voice brought a sense of comfort that she couldn’t find in her own home; a lifeline that tethered her to herself in all of the unknowing.

“Any news on when he’s coming home?”

Jane’s question snapped Violet’s focus back to their conversation as she stepped off the lift. Her mother had spent the better part of twenty minutes telling her stories about her niece and nephew, but Violet found herself unable to concentrate. The question she dreaded the most about their conversations sat heavy in her belly as she stepped off the lift, the chatter of the busy mess hall filling her ears as she passed towards the restrooms. Violet ducked in, thankful to find the ladies room empty.

She set her pad down on the counter, “Same news as yesterday, Mom. I still don’t know.”

“I don’t know how you do this, sweetheart. I am just beside myself! You know how much I worry about you kids.”

“Me too, Mom,” she gritted out.

Jane sighed, “How are you, baby? Be honest.”

The question caught in her throat, the tears she had shed endlessly over the month biting at her eyes. She shook her head, tilting her head back and attempting to blink them back.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Don’t lie to me, Violet Renee. A mother knows her child,” Violet chuckled at the statement, brushing away the few tears that had escaped despite her efforts. Jane’s tone softened on the other end of the call, “Why don’t you come home for the night, sweetheart? Bring Sadie with you and I’ll make your favorite for dinner. Dad and I won’t ask any questions, we’ll just listen.”

Violet nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She sighed down at the mascara stains that streaked her hands before turning on the sink, “Okay, Mom.”

“I’ll go get your room ready now. I love you, sweetheart. He’s going to be just fine.”

The sudden sound of the bathroom door opening made her jump. Violet brought her sleeve to her eyes, sniffling as she hastily wiped away the wet on her cheeks.

“Mom, I have to go,” she said quickly, tapping her pad and terminating the call before Jane could respond.

She looked up from her pad to the door, still wiping her face and hoping it hadn’t been blatantly obvious that she had been having a meltdown in a public restroom. She found the young Marine from the mess hall weeks prior staring back at her, eyes wide as she regarded the doctor. Violet glanced at her name tape, confirming that the woman had been a part of the group she’d eavesdropped on. Perez, she remembered, she had chosen John as her Spartan of Choice.

“I’ll come back,” she said quickly, sputtering out an apology and turning on her heel.

“No, it’s fine,” Violet called back, “Please. Don’t mind me. I was about to leave.”

The young woman turned back around with an apprehensive nod. Violet watched in her reflection as she passed behind her to one of the empty stalls, keeping her eyes forward. Violet wet a paper towel and began to dab at the mascara that speckled her under eyes, wondering why she even continued to bother with the makeup she found herself so often reapplying. Perez placed a hand on the door to push it open and paused, straightening her shoulders before turning back to Violet. Violet met her stare in the mirror as the woman took a steadying breath.

“Mrs. Harris?” The woman paused, quickly correcting herself, “ Doctor Harris? You may not remember me but, um, we met in the mess hall a few weeks ago. It was very brief, and I guess we didn’t really meet, but I’m-.”

“I remember,” Violet said softly, tossing the paper towel into the waste bin, “And please, Violet is fine.”

Perez nodded, pausing for a moment as she collected her thoughts. She launched into another burst of nervous chatter as if she were standing in the presence of a Spartan and not a contractor scientist, “Okay… I just wanted to apologize for what you overheard. It was inappropriate. My friends were terrible- I wouldn’t even call them my friends, they’re just some girls I know, really. They had no right to talk about Mr. 117- I mean the Master Chief! They had no right to talk about the Master Chief in the way that they did, or about you the way that they did. You know how girls can get… God, you should hear them after they go bar hopping-.”

Violet turned and raised a hand, Perez’s rambled apology coming to a quick stop. Violet felt her lips turn up into a smile for what felt like the first time in a month as she recalled the conversation.

“It’s fine,” Violet said, the young woman still not meeting her eye, “Really. I was your age once. Not too long ago, believe it or not. You should have heard how some of my friends talked. It’s nice to know that John,” she paused, swallowing down the bubble of tears that came with his name, “ The Master Chief has a fan club. He definitely deserves one. Please, no need for apologies.”

Perez nodded nervously, returning Violet’s tight lipped smile, "Good, thank you. Well, um... have a good day."

She turned towards the stall door again. Violet returned to the mirror and wet another paper towel, hoping that the cold water would relieve the puffiness around her eyes before she made her way back to her office. Perez lingered in the doorway again before turning back around. She met Violet’s eyes in the mirror again, a determination about her as she straightened up.

“Ma'am, forgive me if I am out of line... are you alright?"

Violet looked up, concern riddling the young woman’s tone as she regarded her. She was thrown by the question, by the kindness that hung from each word. No one other than her mom or Katie had asked how she was over the span of the month. She had been resigned to hiding out in her office, ignoring the whispers about ‘The Flight of Mrs. 117’ that seemed to follow her down the halls. Yet, here was this stranger offering her a bit of kindness while she cried in a bathroom like a high schooler. She felt embarrassed. But part of her felt relieved by the question as well. She sniffled back the tears that pricked her eyes, offering Perez a watery smile and a nod she hoped was convincing.

“I’m fine,” she lied, the quiver of her voice betraying her, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure, ma’am?”

Violet nodded, but the sincerity of Perez’s tone sent her over the edge. She hiccuped out a sob, the tears she had attempted to hold back rolling down her cheeks. Embarrassment bubbled in her again as the Marine’s eyes widened. Perez crossed to the sinks to stand across from her, placing a hand cautiously on Violet’s shoulder in comfort. The door creaked open again, another woman stepping in and looking over at the unfolding scene in confusion. Perez turned on her heel, pointing at the door.

“Out!” She snapped, the other woman recoiling at the fierce tone, “This one’s closed! Get out!”

The woman nodded, turning quickly and exiting the bathroom. Perez brought her eyes back to Violet, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Violet fell apart at the gesture, the story of that last night tumbling from her mouth before she could stop it. Perez listened intently as she rambled, offering a patient nod occasionally as she took in the events. Violet told her about the bar, about the fight, about her desperate run across the base and Perez did what so few had done over the past month; she listened.

Violet patted her face as her story came to a close and sniffled. Perez reached for the paper towel dispenser, offering another rectangle of scratchy tissue to Violet. She accepted it with an appreciative chuckle, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I told you any of that. You must feel like you got trapped in the bathroom with the crazy lady.”

Perez only shook her head earnestly, keeping her kind gaze on Violet as she fixed herself in the mirror. “No, ma’am. Not at all. I can actually understand how you are feeling, in a way. My fiancé is stationed off planet. I haven’t heard from him in some time. It’s been stressful in the same way I’m sure it has been for you.”

Violet’s heart sank at the confession. She felt foolish as she stood before the young woman, sobbing over her boyfriend like a teenager. John had only shared a fraction of what Perez had experienced on Sanctuary with the same dry, detail-oriented way he would write an AAR. Even that had been enough for her to feel the terror that poor girl had experienced. On top of all that fear and trauma, she had her own person in some far corner of the galaxy to worry after, and still sat to listen to some thirty year old woman’s bullsh*t. Violet felt selfish as she returned her smile, squeezing her arm in the same way Perez had hers.

“I am so sorry,” was all she could manage to say.

“Ma’am- Violet. Again, I know this may be out of line,” Perez began, but Violet shook her head. She had already been the one out of line, she thought. Nothing could be worse than her tearful display. “Would it be alright if I prayed for you?”

Violet’s eyes widened at the offer, taken aback by it. She couldn’t remember the last time she had set foot in a church; it had been long before she had left to work at the Demeter Project. Her mother was always the deeply religious one of the family. Jane would pull the family out of bed every Saturday morning and tote them down to the neighborhood synagogue despite her and Katie’s grumbles. Violet couldn’t remember the last time she had prayed, nor the last time someone had prayed for her. Perez watched her, awaiting her answer with that kind, patient stare. Violet nodded, feeling as if it would be rude to decline after the moment of kindness that had been so graciously shared with her and sputtered out a yes.

Perez smiled before taking Violet’s hands. She bowed her head, eyes fluttering shut before taking a deep breath. Violet followed suit, bowing her own head and closing her eyes. She listened as the young woman began to pray; asking for strength, courage, hope and protection for John and his team. Asking for them to be guided home safely without harm.

Violet listened to her calm words, taking in the sure way that she spoke each syllable, as if knowing that they would be met. Perez squeezed her hands gently as she spoke, turning the focus of her prayer to Violet. Violet returned the squeeze as she listened, feeling a fresh wave of tears rising in her throat. Perez asked for her own strength as well; for the ability to accept the things she could not control and to guide her heart through her worry. Violet gripped her hands tightly, feeling tears slip down her cheeks as she willed those things for herself as well. Perez concluded her prayer with another tight squeeze. She kept Violet’s hand in her own as she lifted her head, eyes opening as she looked back to Violet’s watery stare.

“He’s going to be alright,” Perez whispered, “One way or another. And so will you, Doctor Harris.”

Violet pulled the young woman to her, wrapping her arms around her tightly. Perez returned the hug, Violet sighing as her eyes shut again and felt the calm that she had felt so little of come over her for the first time in weeks. The rot retreated for a moment, the chill that had overcome her body diminishing if only for a few seconds, making room for a bit of warmth. The words repeated in her; he will, and so will you.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Chapter 20: All Too Well

Chapter Text

Time didn’t fly as the sixth week of John’s deployment came and passed. It crept by minute by agonizing minute as she continued to watch every chrono and flinch at every PA call. Violet felt paralyzed by it; caught in each moment of waiting like she was holding her breath.

The rot had remained. It settled into her longer than the ache in her feet had, becoming a feeling she knew all too well. But to her surprise, it felt less consuming than it had in prior weeks. Violet assumed it had to do with the few sleepovers she had at her parents’ house. Bill had made it his personal mission to care for her in the way he always had in his quiet comfort; with endless hours spent in the armchairs in their living room pouring over documentaries about birds that Bill had been featured in. The two only broke their comfortable silence to point at the screen each time Bill came on to mumble out “hey, we know him,” in an attempt to annoy her mother as Jane crocheted on the sofa. They stayed up into the late hours of the night watching gravball highlights until they would both fall asleep under their blankets, Violet feeling like she was a child again and safe in the presence of her first protector when he would wake her up to usher her off to bed.

Jane and Katie forced her out of the house on her days off. She found herself spending endless hours at different parks with the kids, pushing down her own melancholy for their sake as they played. Katie had convinced her to take a personal day during the fifth week of his absence. Violet would have been content with laying on her sofa watching endless hours of whatever reality trash she could find, but Katie had shown up at the door that morning with coffee and pastries in hand and knocked until Violet let her in. Katie cussed her out until she showered in the way her sister was only allowed to do, and dragged Violet out of the silent apartment. She drove them out of the city to the nursery she knew her sister liked, allowing Violet to pace the aisles of plants and fill the backseat of the car with new additions. They ended the day at some downtown tattoo parlor, Violet laughing at the pained faces her sister made as Katie watched the needle pound into her little sister’s flesh.

No kids, no Jane; just her and her sister sitting beside each other in the car as Katie drove, laughing over the songs that played on the radio and how John would have hated each sugary bubblegum pop song that played. She felt less alone in those moments; like she was able to detach herself from the longing that had settled into her bones long enough to forget how it felt before it came rushing back in.

Perez’s prayer had given her strength in the days that followed as well. The moment of quiet kindness had filled her up for a while, the emptiness she had carried with her for weeks feeling less hollow. She had laid awake on the couch that night staring up at the ceiling, haunted by the same emptiness Violet had seen in her own eyes carried in those of the young woman as well. Violet wished she had hugged her a bit tighter in the bathroom that day.

Yet, after each night spent in the Harris home, or after every outing, Violet would return home in the evening to an apartment that felt too big. Sometimes she would return with hands full of shopping bags or with a new plant but the few minutes she spent unpacking, organizing, or repotting on the island that had become a monument to them were never enough to distract her from the lack of his presence. Her eyes would always fall to the bed she couldn’t sleep in, or to where his book sat waiting for him on the balcony. That ache would come creeping back and she would find herself in a new hell every time.

She returned to the apartment from her parents’ home early in the seventh week. Sadie ran ahead of her when she opened the door, looking around the apartment for him. The dog bounded into the bedroom, nudging at the sheets on the tightly made bed before peeking into the bathroom, turning back out of the room Violet had so seldomly used to check the guest room-turned-office before returning to the kitchen with a frustrated harumph.

“I know, Sades,” Violet sighed, reaching down to scratch the dog’s ears. She dropped her overnight bag onto the island and began to sort through the contents, “I miss him, too.”

She set her hair brush beside the rest of her toiletries, bracing herself to slip into the room she had hidden from for weeks. She pushed the pile to the side while she summoned her bravery to do so and turned her attention back to unpacking her bag. She tossed her pajamas across the living room in the direction of the closet that contained her laundry set and fished out the rectangular frame her mother had slipped into her bag before turning towards the bookshelves.

Sadie slunk to the couch as Violet crossed the room, the late summer sunset flooding through the windows casting a glow on the glass panes of the frames that held her most treasured memories. Violet ran her fingers along the leafy vines of the pothos plant draped across the shelves, making a mental note to water all her plants before ordering her dinner. She was finding that what she wasn’t spending on Spartan-sized grocery hauls was being spent on endless takeout; she could have worse vices, she assured herself.

She shuffled the frames that contained the pictures of her with her family, rearranging them on the shelf to make new space for the frame she held. She placed it between the photographs of herself with her sister and the image of her with her parents, lingering in front of it for a moment.

John smiled back at her from the frame, lips turned up in laughter as Violet sat in his lap in the Harris’ backyard with Sadie at their feet. Jane had taken the picture after his third family dinner. Violet smiled at the frame, recalling how she had nudged him in the ribs and demanded he smiled with his teeth when the camera came out, Elliot shouting ‘cheese!’ at the both of them from behind her mother. John looked down at her as he smiled with that soft look in his eyes as she smiled, the lights around the tree casting a glow on them both. Violet traced her fingertip along the curve of his jaw that she would know with her eyes shut, her eyes resting on the smile that had haunted her dreams for weeks.

His hand sat on her leg in the picture. Violet recalled the way he had brushed his thumb against her scar over the fabric of her leggings all too well. She was filled with the same warmth she had felt that entire night as she stared at the frame. She had almost told him that she loved them on the walk home from the train that night. She wished she had.

“He’ll be home soon,” she said to Sadie.

She turned back to the island and gathered her toiletries before stepping into their bedroom without needing to hold her breath.

August slipped away into September, collapsing into a tapestry of oranges and yellows that dappled the green of the trees in the park. Her walk to the transit station was shrouded in morning mist and early autumn chill instead of the gilded sunshine she had come to anticipate from her morning commute. Violet clutched the walls of the paper cup she carried, breathing in the warmth of her too sweet drink. She carried the paper drink carrier that had become her responsibility on Wednesdays; Miranda’s iced coffee nestled beside the large drip coffee she had ordered out of habit. Surely someone would volunteer to take it off her hands once she got to the greenhouses, she assumed.

A brisk wind rustled the trees above her head, littering the walking paths with leaves like splatters of paint on the gray. Violet sipped from her cup as she walked, tugging the jacket she had to pull out of the storage bins in her closet closer around her. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, its slumber growing later into the morning with each passing day. Violet shivered against the cold as she walked towards the station. She wondered if it was cold where he was, too.

Her morning started at The Rock. A tinge of excitement filled her belly when she received the request from the horticultural team to sign off on the implantation of several new salvias. She had avoided the greenhouses in his absence, fearing that she would miss the call announcing his return in the same way she had missed his leaving. She sent techs and horticulturalists between the labs and greenhouses, resigned to playing the middleman in her office. But that excitement remained as she looked up the cliff to where her team hung suspended.

Violet stared up at the rock face before releasing a determined breath. She clapped the excess chalk off of her hands and clipped into the auto belay. She hid a grin as she started to climb and found that lovely ache returning to her muscles. She could still send techs down to the Ponds, she thought, but this she could do.

The fans whirred overhead, growing louder with each inch she crept up the wall to where the horticultural team sat in their own harnesses waiting. One nodded to her as she approached, tapping on her pad in front of an adolescent salvia. Violet sat back into her harness beside her, “How are things looking up here, Adeoye?”

“Good morning, Doctor Harris,” the woman greeted. She pointed to the small clump of plant, “twenty three plants were implanted on the cliffs three weeks ago. As of this morning, nineteen of those original implants have taken root successfully.”

Violet listened carefully as the woman continued to explain their observations and findings. She nodded along, rolling up the sleeves of her pullover before she reached out to touch the furry leaves of the plants. She poked at the base of the plant as she examined the roots that had twisted and burrowed into the rock before turning back to Adeoye with another approving nod, “And what about the four plants that didn’t take?”

“Samples of each have been sent up to the labs along with our findings, ma’am.”

“Good, thank you,” Violet took the woman’s pad from her to sign off on the report. She brought her hands back to the wall as she began her ascent to the next horticulturist.

The young man held his pad out to Violet as she approached and took the same seated position. She listened as he explained his own findings, reading over the report on his pad. The fans hummed overhead, muffling his voice as if he were on the other side of the room shouting to her and not a mere three feet overhead.

Violet strained to listen, “Run that by me one more time, Dymkoski? I can’t hear anything with those fans.”

“Yes ma’am,” he called over the hum, raising his voice to be heard, “I was saying; the-.”

The all too familiar beep of the PA system sounded. Violet nearly dropped Dymkoski’s pad as she jumped at the sound, fumbling to regain her grasp on it. Dymkoski reached out, snatching it back before it could tumble fifty feet below to the ground. Violet mumbled out an apology before turning to face the speakers. The whole greenhouse fell silent as the staff stopped work to listen in the same way their superior had for weeks. It was as if the whole facility was holding their breath, waiting for the same words she waited to hear.

“Medical teams to Hangar 4; Spartan causality. Medical teams to-.”

Violet didn’t hear the rest of the call, only the roaring between her ears as she engaged the hand break and sent herself whizzing down. Her heart sat in her throat, the chill returning to her body painfully as she raced towards the ground in a series of clumsy kicks off of the wall, her staff watching with wide eyes. Violet felt like she was going to be sick. Her head spun. Her heart drummed in her chest.

Not John, she thought.

Not John.

Not my John .

There were no whispers of Mrs. 117 or tales of sprints across the base as she touched town on the mats. Only wide eyed stares at the botanist as she fumbled with the carabiner and shuffles of feet as the team stepped away from the paths leading to the exit. Violet hastily unclipped the carabiner, forgetting about the sharp tug in her rush. The rope slipped between her hands, a surprised gasp leaving her lips as it sailed upwards towards her team. They turned towards the wall, covering their heads with their arms as it sailed straight up and cracked against the brake drum.

“I’m so sorry!” Violet called up, “Everyone alright?”

“We’re fine, ma’am!” Dymkoski called back down, already climbing toward the rouge rope, “Go. We’ve got it handled.”

Violet turned with a nod, the roaring growing as she turned towards the paths. Panic rose in her; hot and acidic as it burned through her veins. The silence remained as she started down the path to the exit, eyes following her as she raced past. Her thoughts only repeated the same three words, the same plea to whoever listened; not my John.

The call for medical teams repeated as she burst through the doors and Violet swallowed down the scream that threatened to rip through her throat. The call had seemed to bring the whole base to a halt; everyone stopped to listen as if frozen in time. Violet continued on, climbing shoes pounding against the floors. She followed the same path Cortana had lit for her so many weeks ago, eyes and whispers following her with each turn she made.

She didn’t give a sh*t. She didn’t care what they said, what crass jokes they made, what names they called her. She just needed them to stay the f*ck out of her way this time.

Panic washed into dread. She felt dizzy. She felt sick. Her body begged her to stop and allow herself to cry the tears that stung at her eyes but she wouldn’t allow herself to waste a single second. She needed to see him; she needed to know. She was going to be there this time for whatever came. She wouldn’t allow herself to miss him again. Not this time.

She twisted down the stairwells, counting each one as she had when Cortana led her down them. Her harness bit into her skin with each step, Violet remembering that she hadn’t bothered to remove the stiff structure. She ignored the way it dug into her with each step as she burst through the stairwell door that led into the hangar, the stiffness overshadowed by the fear that rattled through her.

Violet stopped for a moment as she entered the hangar to get her bearings, her eyes settling on the Condor on the far side of it. The engines whined as they cooled, but it was the only sound Violet could find as the staff turned to face her. She could make out Kai’s head over the crowd, concern evident in the blonde’s features as she barked out orders.

“Make way for the Mrs!”

Violet didn’t find herself bothered by the nickname as the man’s voice shouted it out. Staff stepped to the side as she wove through the crowd, making room for her as she crossed to the Condor. As she neared the ship, she found the staff grew quieter, their stares more sympathetic. She hated it, she wanted to scream, wanted to cry; she wanted to know what the f*ck was happening.

Violet stopped when she approached the Condor, and her heart stopped with it. The gurney rattled against the ramp as it was led down, that unmistakable green laying upon it. A strangled noise ripped from her throat as they led the broken armor past her and Violet turned to watch it; mangled, blackened, and riddled with damage. The hangar staff parted for a second time as he was led away and Violet couldn’t will her legs to move to follow it. They only shook along with her hands as she watched the gurney roll away.

She couldn’t bring herself to scream or allow the sobs that shook her body to rip from her lips. She simply stood; her body too heavy, her chest too tight, her mind suddenly too quiet. Her stomach churned as she stared at the armor being wheeled away like a pile of broken parts. Something inside of her snapped as she watched them wheel him away, and she knew she would never be able to repair it. It was carried away with him.

"Hey, goose."

She shuddered out a breath at the familiar sound, the rumble of his voice melting through the chill that had settled into her. Violet turned back to the ramp of the ship, a sob escaping her at the sight of him. Medics flanked him as they led him out of the Condor, John’s techsuit absent and instead dressed in just his compression shorts. Violet’s eyes fell to the bloodied bandages that wrapped around his bare torso and she sucked in a breath. He offered her a weak smile as he came down the ramp with unsteady steps. The medics stopped him after a swayed step, but he continued on towards her.

Violet let out a relieved giggle before she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. The rot, the worry, the unsurety, the fear; it all faded away when his hand found its place on her back.

He grunted out in pain as she clung to him, “Careful, Vi.”

She released him quickly, finding that the blood that seeped through his bandages stained the front of her pullover. She touched the bandages gingerly before looking up at him, finding that same softness in his eyes as he looked back to her.

“Sorry,” she gasped out, “I’m so sorry.”

John said nothing in return. He dropped his head and pressed his forehead to her own. Violet leaned into the touch, her hands resting against his chest above where the bandages covering his wounds began. She felt like herself for the first time in months, like she was finally whole again as that piece of her she took with him returned.

“Ma’am,” one of the medics barked, their hand on Violet’s arm, “Please step aside. We need to get the Chief-.”

“Where I go, she goes,” he interrupted, turning to face the medic who quickly removed their hand from Violet’s arm. “Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

It was dark when he woke up. At least, John assumed it was once his eyes found the late hour on the chrono above the door in the dark room. He looked around the windowless recovery room of the sick bay, body still heavy from the anesthesia they had pumped into him prior to surgery, his thoughts too groggy. He could feel the tug of the suture tape they had used to close his incision under the thin fabric of the hospital gown he wore. He grunted out in pain as he tried to sit up, but a warm hand pressed against his chest and guided him back down to the pillow below.

“The doctors said you need bed rest,” her voice said gently, “You need to lay back down, baby.”

John turned to face her, finding Violet at his bedside. She had changed since he had gone into surgery; her bloodied pullover replaced with her New Alexandria University sweatshirt she wore around the apartment and her hair piled atop her head. He allowed her to guide him back into the hospital bed, his hand finding hers as she sat on the edge of the bed beside him. He glanced over at the chair she had taken up residence in at his bedside; her pad and book sitting beside a picked over meal on a mess hall tray. He wondered how long she had sat there for; how long he had been asleep for.

He turned back to her and found those green eyes fixed upon him again. Violet smiled that bright Violet smile at him, and he didn’t see fear in the green. He only saw warmth as she met his gaze in the dark; he only found love.

“I know this isn’t coming home the right way,” he said, Violet’s soft giggle filling the room. She squeezed his hand, her thumb brushing against the side of it.

“We had an agreement,” she reminded him, “‘you come home with all of your parts and pieces’, John.”

“I still have all my parts and pieces; just with a few new dents. Besides, you should see the other guy.”

She chuffed at his comment, rolling her eyes. She shifted on his bedside to tuck a leg under herself. Her fingers found his face, tracing along his jaw before resting against his cheek. John leaned into the touch and it felt like coming alive again; like turning his face to the sun after a lifetime of darkness. He turned his face to press a kiss to her palm.

“Come here,” he whispered, jerking his head towards the space in the bed beside him. Violet smiled again before climbing into the bed beside him. She tucked herself between him and the railing of the bed. Her hand found his face once more as she dragged her fingers through the coarse hair on his cheeks that had become too long.

“I hear you have a few new dents too, goose,” he said, turning over with a groan onto his side to face her. She was careful not to press against him in fear of hurting him, but he’d manage all the pain in the world just to hold her again.

She glanced down towards the end of the bed at her feet with a sheepish smile, “Cortana told you?”

He nodded, “She made me watch the security feed. Kai made me watch it three more times after that.”

He thought back to the recording, to the trail of blood stains and seawater she left in her wake as she ran. Kai had stood over him as he watched her determined dash following the blinks of Cortana’s carefully choreographed lights across the base. Kai’s face had been nothing but a mask of disapproval as she watched him, John feeling like a scolded child in timeout each time she would yank the pad back from him to restart the video.

“You walked out on that,” she had told him, shame rising in him with each rewind of the recording, “And you want to sit there and bitch about how she’s not actually in love with you?”

He didn’t correct her, nor tell her she was out of line for the way she spoke to him. He just kept his eyes on the recording as he watched her run.

“It was a tactical decision,” he had told her.

“Bullsh*t,” Kai had snapped back at him, “This isn’t battle, John. This is Violet. You should have turned around and gone home.”

Violet fingers combed through the scruff again. John wasn’t able to pull his eyes from hers. They were ringed with dark circles, her bangs hanging in her face, but he had never seen a color so bright. He wondered how long she had sat awake beside him.

“I was going to come home, Vi,” he confessed, brushing her hair out of her eyes, relishing in the feeling of her hair between his fingers, “I just-. I needed to think.”

“Do you still need to think?” She asked, toying with his fingers. He curled his own between hers, and those green eyes returned to his again.

“I did nothing but think for eight weeks.”

“What did you think about?”

“About how I hoped that goddamned door would be locked when I got home.”

Violet laughed that sweet musical laugh and it was the most beautiful sound he had heard in weeks. She smiled at him from across the pillow before brushing her fingers along his jaw. She let her hand slide behind his head, fingernails scraping gently through his hair.

“It’s been unlocked every night since you left,” she whispered, “I left the lights on for you.”

John let his forehead fall against hers, leaning into her touch as he pulled her to him. Violet sighed happily, tucking a knee between his legs. He brought his hand to her thigh, letting it rest upon the soft fabric of her leggings as they laid in sleepy silence. Maybe they were wrong, he thought, maybe he had been right about that. But John could not think of something wrong that had felt as wholly right as Violet Harris did.

“You don’t get to leave like that,” she said softly, her words cutting through the dark, “You don’t get to walk out, John. Neither of us do. We stay, and we fix things. If you need to think, that’s fine; but tell me that. I’ll give you all the space you need. But we don’t leave. Not without a goodbye. I can’t do that again without a goodbye. Got it?”

He pressed his lips to her forehead before bringing his own to it again.

“Whatever you say, goose.”

Chapter 21: Headboards Volume 2

Chapter Text

Heated wet slid against his neck. John stirred awake at the sensation, his eyes still closed. He chuckled as her tongue returned to his skin in a long drag up his neck to his ear. He turned over to face her, thoughts of a few more hours spent in bed filling his mind.

“That’s quite the good morning, goo-.”

He opened his eyes, expecting to find green on the other side of his pillow. Instead, blue and brown, devoid of any intelligent thought, stared back at him. Sadie yawned loudly, one of her ears pushed back flat against her head, and licked his face again.

“Off, Sadie,” he groaned, pushing the dog back with his forearm.

Sadie lurched forward, tongue licking at the air as she tried to push beyond the immovable weight. She relented with a disappointed whine before turning to hop off the foot of the bed and trotted out of the room, the tags on her collar jingling merrily. John pulled himself out of bed, wiping his face with the back of his hand and turned to peer down at the chrono. It was well past seven in the morning. John couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in as much as he had over the past two weeks; he couldn’t recall a time he had ever, really.

Violet’s side of the bed was empty, her sheets pulled back over the mattress tightly. He took a moment to make his side before tugging back on the loose shorts he had worn the night before and following the dog into the living room. Sadie sat on the sofa, tightly curled up as she settled in for her morning nap. He found Violet at the bookshelves with her back to him as she watered her growing collection of greenery from a drinking glass. She talked softly to them as she watered, speaking to them as if they were children rather than potted plants. The bubbling of the coffee pot in the kitchen mingled with her soft whispers, morning light flooding through the balcony windows. She stood barefoot and in her pajamas; the same tee shirt and panties she had changed into before bed, her hair a mess of frizzy waves around her head. John lingered in the doorway for a moment. He had seen the same sight every morning for over two weeks and it still stopped him in his tracks each time.

He took a month of leave; not that he needed that time to heal. Part of him needed to get back the time he lost after that last night together. He needed to make it up to her somehow despite her insistence that all had been forgiven. He had seen the pillow and blanket on the couch, had seen the untouched bed and the stagnant state of the apartment when he had finally been released to return to it. She may have forgiven him, but he didn’t.

Violet cashed in on every sick and personal day she had accumulated to do the same, spending that last two weeks of the month at home with him. She went in once a week to sign off on paperwork, make an appearance in the greenhouses and labs, and weigh in on the drug trials that had been in full swing since he left. When she was home, she was doting over him; fully content with playing the role of the caregiver that she seemed to fit so well. He let her do it without complaint. It seemed to make her happy to care for him. ‘Whatever you say, goose,’ had left his mouth more times than he could count in the past two weeks. He’d let her play nurse for as long as she needed to in order to keep her looking at him that way.

He stepped behind her and pressed a kiss to her cheek, mumbling out a good morning.

“You’ve got to stop letting me sleep so late, Vi.”

She laughed and turned back to the plants on the shelves, “Are you really so incapable of getting up without Cortana or I pestering you to do so?”

“Just because I can doesn’t mean I want to.”

“The Master Chief, ladies and gentlemen,” she teased, John rolling his eyes as he set off towards the kitchen. She shook her head with a soft laugh before pushing the leaves of one of her plants aside to pour water into the soil. “Our best and brightest. Still needs his girlfriends to drag his ass out of bed like the rest of us mere mortals. He’s just like us after all.”

“You done?” He called over his shoulder, rummaging through the cabinets for a coffee mug.

“For now,” she shrugged.

A pleased giggle echoed from her as she turned to face him, but the moment of pleasure quickly surrendered to the disapproval that creased her face. “No! You heard the surgeon. No activity until you’re fully healed. I’ll start breakfast when I’m done. Go sit down.”

He sighed, fingers curling around a mug, “I am fully healed, Vi. They cleared me during my last med check. You were there.”

“I was there. I clearly remember them saying you were healing. Not healed. Go sit down.”

“Can I make coffee?” He laughed at the perplexed expression she wore, “Is that alright with you, boss?”

She mumbled under her breath something about him being stubborn before sighing out, “I’ll allow it. Make me a cup?”

“Sure, I’ll pour you a cup of creamer.”

The corners of her mouth twitched as her amused smile betrayed the stone faced stare she attempted to regard him with over her shoulder. She shook her head and returned to her plants, still grumbling under her breath.

“I can hear you.”

“Good.”

He chuckled and pulled out a second mug, preparing her coffee the way he had watched her do every morning. She reached above head to press a finger into the soil of a plant on the top shelf, the hem of her tee shirt lifting with the motion. His eyes fell to the simple pair of black panties she had worn to bed the night for, taking in the way the thin fabric hugged the curve of her ass. He assumed there were worse sights to wake up to as he sipped from his mug.

Violet turned from the shelves once the glass she held was empty and turned back towards the kitchen. He nudged her mug towards her wordlessly and was met by an appreciative smile as she brought it to her lips. She sank into the stool at the island across from him for a moment as she drank, smiling across at him with that bright smile that could have lit the room all on its own. He had been to damn near every planet, he had seen some of the most extraordinary sights, but he couldn’t think of any greater paradise than sitting there with her in bleary eyed silence as they drank their coffee in her kitchen. Their kitchen.

She hid a snicker with another sip, green eyes flicking between the mug he held and her own drink.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she giggled, “Just not the mug I expected you to grab.”

He turned the mug towards him to find the source of her amusem*nt, rolling her eyes when she burst into another round of giggles as he read over the bold black lettering across the mug announcing him as the ‘World’s Hottest Plant Mom’ .

“It’s the biggest mug you have,” he argued over her laughter.

“No! By all means, it suits you,” she teased, sipping from her mug again. She set it back onto the island before rising again to fill the glass and return to her watering.

“I’ve told you how annoying you are, haven't I?” He called after her, watching the sway of her hips as she walked back towards the shelves. How long had it been since their last time, he asked himself. Nine weeks? Ten?

“You have,” she called back, reaching up to the top shelves and exposing her rear to him again. He wondered if she knew exactly what she was doing with the motion. She flashed a playful smile to him over her shoulder, “Guess we’re just wrong , huh big guy?”

He chuffed at the comment, his words of that last night thrown back at him with one of those Violet smiles. The word echoed through him as he looked over the living room where he had let his fear best him. Wrong, he had said . How could any part of that woman be wrong?

“Guess so,” he replied.

He watched her for a few more moments, the lean lines of her body accentuated by her upward reach. His mind strayed to the night before he walked out. He recalled every surface of the apartment he had bent her over; her moans as they filled every room, the way she clung to him. She had been so cautious with him since he returned home, save for the handful of times her head had found its way into his lap on the couch, each gentle touch prickling his skin with need as she cared for him. He hadn’t touched her, felt her, tasted her in over two months. It was a hunger that settled into him and gnawed away at his thoughts that he could no longer ignore.

He set his mug beside hers on the counter before crossing the room to where she stood watering plants. He pressed his chest against her back, reaching around her to take the glass out of her hand and set it beside the frame that held the picture of them. She opened her mouth to protest, but her words of confusion were replaced by a soft sigh as his hands slipped up the front of her tee shirt. She sucked in a breath as his fingers traced the curve of her breast and she pressed her back against him.

“Baby, the doctors said-.”

“I know what they said,” he murmured, his fingers knotting in her hair as he pulled her head gently to the side, his lips brushing against her neck, “I know when I’m healed. I have scars to prove that. I don’t need some med tech to tell me when I’m well enough to f*ck my girl.”

The way she breathed his name was the only confirmation he needed as Violet turned her face to kiss him, her lips moving against his. She was still careful not to touch the suture tape that covered his wounds, treating him like she would one of her damaged wounds.

“I don’t want to be the reason it opens back up,” she whispered, John’s lips finding her neck again as he kissed down to her collarbone, “Could you imagine the whispers around base if I had to bring you back with busted sutures?”

Her protests ceased as his hand slipped to her panties, a soft sigh leaving her lips as her eyes fluttered shut. He smirked as his fingers met the already damp fabric, knowing that her protests had been fleeting as he pushed it to the side. She had been waiting just as long as he had. He wondered if the longing had driven her half as mad as it had driven him.

He had missed her over those two months in every minute he had spent outside of a cryotube; every bit of her. The warmth, the grace, the crinkle of her nose as she smiled. He missed the weight of her hand in his, the sound of her voice as she sang in the shower. He missed it with every heartbeat, with every breath. But he had missed this too; the sweet moans and hungry way she looked up at him. The way she said his name as she became undone. He met those eyes that felt like sunshine as she looked up at him from under her lashes, and he was determined to bask in it for as long as he could.

“Fine,” she gasped out as he dragged his thumb along her cl*t, “But we’re going to go slow and be-.”

His fingers curled around the hem of her tee shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it behind him. The fabric hit the back of the sofa with a soft thud beside Sadie who poked her nose into it curiously. Violet looked up at him, a smirk creeping across her lips, her hair sleep-fussed and wild. He hooked a finger under her chin and brought her lips to his again.

“Gentle,” she finished.

The word fell upon deaf ears as John pulled her back to him and brought his lips crashing against hers. Violet’s hands left his chest, arms curling around his neck. His own found her hips as he backed her against the shelves with a surprised gasp, working down the thin black cotton. She kicked them off without removing her lips from his own. His hands hooked under her thighs as he pulled her up, Violet’s legs twisting around his waist as he carried her back to bed.

He deposited her onto the unmade sheets and Violet rolled onto her stomach. Her fingers curled around his waistband, Violet shifting on the bed to assume the position she had taken so many nights before as she lowered her head. He cupped her chin, stopping her and bringing her eyes to his. He brushed his thumb against her cheek and allowed himself to be lost in the green for a moment.

“You’ve taken care of me all week, goose,” he muttered, “It’s my turn.”

He looked down at her on the bed, morning light casting a glow across her skin as if she had been weaved from it. Violet pushed herself up on her elbows, staring up at him with half lidded eyes and pretty kiss swollen lips. He had decided as he watched that security feed weeks ago that there would never be a man who came after him that deserved Violet Harris. No man ever would deserve the woman she was. He would try to become that man, though, even if it took him whatever time he had left to do so.

“On your knees.”

Violet bit her lip and smiled at the request, turning over and crawling up the bed. The bed creaked under his weight as he lowered himself onto it behind her. She gasped as he yanked her hips back to his roughly, feeling him pressed against her thigh. He slipped his fingers between her legs, gliding them through the warm slickness in a single, agonizing stroke.

Violet hissed out a breath at the drag of his calloused skin against her, hips pressing back against his palm and eliciting one of those growling chuckles he had heard in the bar all those weeks ago. She found she liked the sound of it from where he was on his knees behind her, his hands roaming the curves of her body. She really liked it.

He slid a finger into her, Violet gasping out at the welcome stretch. Her hips rocked back, desperate for more of his touch. She felt her cheeks flush as embarrassment blossoming in her chest; he had been gone two months and here she was soaking wet and f*cking herself against his hand. John chuckled again, a second finger slipping into her in rhythm with the other. She whimpered as they curled into her and rolled her hips against them.

“God, you’re a tease,” she gasped out.

“I can stop.”

“Don’t you f*cking dare .”

He squeezed her hip with another low chuckle. Breathy sighs filled the room as his fingers returned to her flesh in those painfully light touches. Her breath caught in her throat as she shivered, the touch prickling her spine.

“Miss me, goose?”

“I just can’t f*ck myself the way you do, big guy,” she confessed. Her memory strayed to shower heads and nightstand vibrators that had sustained her through the past few weeks when the numbness was replaced with the burning need that itched her skin. Nothing had been a close enough replacement for him.

His other hand traced down the curve of her back as she rocked into his hand, fingers gliding over the lines of the tattoo that she had decorated her spine with in his absence. He rested his palm against the small of her back as he met her backwards thrust with his own, Violet determined not to finish in his hand as she saw stars. She held back a whine when his fingers slipped out of her but his hands found her hips again as he pulled her back to him again, squaring himself to her.

“Good,” he growled, “Put your hands on the headboard.”

She quickly obliged, her palms pressing against the smooth wood.

He entered her in one swift thrust. He would usually be so gentle; taking his time with her and giving her inch by painstaking inch in fear of hurting her. That sweetness was not replicated in the deep, desperate way he rutted against her. She braced herself as his hips shoved her forward. She caught herself on an elbow and palm before her cheek could smack against the wood with a surprised gasp as he buried himself in her and every coherent thought left her brain.

He pulled out of her as quickly as he had entered her. She made a noise of protest as the fullness left her, a gentle hand finding the back of her neck as she turned to face him. He looked back at her, concern glowing in the heated way he looked down at her.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she gasped out. She shook her head, a feline smile stretching her lips as she turned back to the headboard. She braced herself against the headboard again, raising his hips to his own again and sinking back in invitation, “Do it again.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, the earnest words overcome by the need that dripped from his tone, “We can do-.”

“John,” she interrupted, “ please.”

He didn’t hesitate at the plea as he filled her again, hands on her hips as he pulled her back against him. He groaned out her name as he thrust into her, hard and fast. It wasn’t the sweet, gentle actions she had grown used to. Each motion was desperate and uncontrolled as his hips slammed against her; full of longing and need. She pushed against the headboard as she rocked herself back to meet his pace, his grunts and pants echoing off the walls.

John’s fingers knotted in her hair again, pulling her back against him as he f*cked her. His fingers dipped between her legs again, working her in tandem with his co*ck. Violet’s hips bucked, her moans turning to whimpers as she called his name over and over, feeling that familiar tightness fill her belly that dissolved into pleasure. She erupted into a string of curses, fingernails digging into his thighs as she jerked against him.

John only slowed for a moment as she org*smed, Violet’s breaths coming in ragged pants as her legs shook. She let her head fall back against his shoulder as she caught her breath, a pleased giggle bubbling from her when he pressed a kiss to her head.

“You alright?”

She nodded and hoped whatever she mumbled out made sense. His chuckle vibrated in his chest behind her.

“Good,” he pressed his lips to her head again before he brought his hand to her back, guiding her back down against the mattress, “I’m not done with you yet.”

Violet inhaled sharply through her nose as the sharp chime of her pad roused her awake. Late morning light flooded through the windows, the hour on the chrono confirming that she had been asleep for most of the morning after John had finally worn himself out. She had tried to get up when he fell asleep, but found that she couldn’t. Not for lack of trying, or a want to stay curled up beside him; she physically could not.

John’s head rested on her chest, Violet trapped under his impressive weight as he lay draped across her, his arms wrapped around her waist. She dragged her nails down his back as he started to snore again, rubbing her eyes as she yawned. She didn’t mind. Being stuck with John was a pretty great place to be, she thought.

Her pad chimed again on the nightstand and she reached out to pick it up. Her fingertips came up just short. She tried to shimmy out from up him, but her efforts proved unsuccessful. She leaned with a series of determined grunts, wiggling her fingers as she grasped wildly for it. She felt her finger barely brush against the edge of it and started her careful inching across the nightstand. A victorious whispered laugh huffed from her lips when it shifted into her hand. She pulled it to her, half of her expecting a notification for a new message in her communications inbox, the other expecting some crass message from Meredith. But the three boxes that illuminated her screen came from a number she didn’t recognize.

125: Meet Riz and I tomorrow at the training facilities at 05:00.

125: This is Kai, by the way.

The final message was followed by a string of brightly colored, nonsensical emoticons. Violet looked over them and tried to make sense of them as if they were some sort of secret code. She gave up on deciphering them before messaging back.

Violet Harris: Okay! Can I ask what for?

125: Bonding!

Three tiny salsa dancers followed the word. Violet wondered what kind of bonding would occur that early in the morning inside of a gym. Her pad chimed again.

125: Chief asked me to train you, if you want complete honesty. He’s pretty worried about you being able to handle yourself while he’s gone after the incident at the bar. It’ll be fun! Girl time!

125: Speaking of which, we should do it again! You were a great dance partner! This time, hopefully no one gets arrested. Maybe we leave John at home?

Violet smiled as she held back a laugh at the message, fearing that her idea of girl time was entirely different from Kai’s. She looked down at the man on top of her as she thought over the offer. John snorted out a snore, his arm tightening around her waist. She dropped a hand to his head, dragging her fingernails though his hair absently as he nestled his face in her chest again and typed out her response with her free hand.

Violet Harris: Yes to both! We’ll leave my guard dog at home the next time, lol. Looking forward to it! See you tomorrow! :-)

She selected her own series of emoticons in a carefully crafted string that she hoped wouldn’t look like she had put as much thought into it as she had. She sent the message off, returning her pad to its place on the nightstand. She brought her hands back to John, one still scratching his scalp while the other dragged lazy circles across his back. She settled into the pillows behind her, into the warm weight of his body against hers as he pinned her to the mattress.

She sighed as she closed her eyes, his snores echoing off the walls of the room that had felt haunted a mere week ago. It was worth the wait. He was worth the wait. He always would be.

Chapter 22: Girlhood

Chapter Text

Violet’s alarm had gone off far too early that morning compared to their usual 7am wake-up call. She had grown accustomed to their lazy mornings in bed over the past weeks, uninterrupted by PT and morning runs. Violet groaned when the chiming started promptly at 4:30 and hit snooze to settle back into John’s arms for what she had promised herself would only be five more minutes.

Yet, five minutes turned into ten as she settled back onto his chest. Ten minutes turned into whispered propositions from across pillows being made with the promise of only taking ten minutes more, which instead took thirty. Thirty minutes resulted in Violet jogging onto the train with aching hips before the doors could slide shut.

Kai had been late as well, which made her feel slightly better about her own lack of punctuality when she arrived at the training facilities alone a few moments before six flashed on the chrono. Yet, Violet found that she wasn’t entirely alone in the training facilities gym as she entered.

A half dozen Spartans looked up from their workouts to the much smaller stranger as she stepped through the door. Violet suddenly felt incredibly out of place. She offered the large woman with short blonde hair who stared at her an uncomfortable wave. The woman stared back, Violet recognizing the expressionless assessing look she watched her with. The woman turned to the man beside her, the two exchanging whispers as Violet occupied herself by looking around for Kai.

“Who the hell is that?”

“Haven’t you heard?” The man chuckled, a tinge of mockery to his tone, “That’s Mrs. 117.”

The woman chuffed, “Oh, spare me. I didn’t realize f*cking him meant she got special access.”

Violet tensed, the loud whisper obviously meant to meet her ears. The woman glanced up to see Violet’s reaction, but she just picked absently at the hem of her pullover. Violet relaxed at the sound of a familiar voice behind her in the doorway.

“Piss off, Yaz,” Kai barked out, “She’s with me.”

The woman responded with a sneer before returning to her workout. Violet shared a tight lipped smile with the man that he did not return before he turned around as well.

Kai turned her attention to Violet, her hard stare at the other blonde disintegrating into her usual smile. She pulled Violet into a crushingly tight hug that she returned with a wince.

“You’re late,” Kai released her, looking down at her with a grin.

Blame John, she thought.

“ You’re late,” Violet teased, pointing to the chrono on the wall, “I was here at 6!”

“I sent you a message,” Kai argued with a laugh.

“No, you sent,” Violet pulled up their message thread to read off the line of emoticons Kai had sent her shortly before she arrived, “‘handshake, point at self, dumbbell, dumbbell, man doing a squat lift, woman doing a squat lift, little chrono, womens bathroom sign’.”

“That’s what I said; ‘meet me in the weight room at 06:15. I have to piss’.”

“That is absolutely not what it said,” Violet said with a bewildered laugh. Her brow quirked up as she looked over the string of pictures again, “Oh. Wait. I see it now.”

“See? It works,” Kai waved Violet on. She led her through the gym, Violet feeling the enhanced vision of every Spartan around on her back as she followed behind Kai. She wondered if John felt the same discomfort she felt every time her teams watched him cross through the greenhouses.

Violet stayed close behind Kai, pulling her hair up as she followed behind her. Riz stood at a weight rack at the back of the gym, standing over a barbell racked with what Violet assumed was over four times her own body weight by the looks of the assorted plates. The redhead was crouched over, her hands on her thighs, a slight grimace to her expression. She noticed Kai and Violet approaching and the pained look disappeared. Violet noticed the sharp way Riz inhaled as she straightened up to nod in greeting. She tried not to look too long at the scars that pockmarked the woman’s body, recalling John’s stories about the mission that left Riz on the wrong side of a plasma grenade. He didn’t like to talk about that day much. She never pushed.

“You’re late,” Riz called to them both.

Violet offered her an apologetic smile as Kai waved a dismissive hand. The three stood facing one another for a moment, all parties unsure of how to address one another in this setting. Sure, she and Kai had a delightful time bar hopping until The Incident. But Violet wasn’t sure of how to handle herself in a gym full of her boyfriend’s peers during a training session he had set up on her behalf.

“So,” Violet held her hands out to her sides nervously, rocking onto her heels, “What’s the plan for the morning?”

The women exchanged a look that appeared to carry meaning between the two.

“Depends,” Riz said, her hands on her hips, “Not sure that Chief would appreciate it if we had to carry you back to your place, so we’ll start slow. What’s your current routine look like?”

Violet let out a thoughtful noise at the question, taking a moment to formulate her response. She hadn’t had a routine since she had been a student athlete at NAU, but had left the stringent workouts behind when she graduated from university.

“I run twice a day,” she offered, “ Um, I take a Pilates class three times a week before work. I haven’t really had a training schedule since I played soccer in college, and that was nearly ten years ago.”

Riz smirked in a pitying way before turning back to Kai.

“Modified version?”

“Very modified.”

Kai was a f*cking liar as far as Violet was concerned. A beautiful, joyful, lovely, giant f*cking liar.

Training with Kai and Riz was nowhere near Violet’s definition of fun, and anyone who thought differently was a liar as well. Nor had that hellish hour been ‘modified’ in the f*cking slightest. Surely, there were some gym rats in the city that would have killed to have been in her position. Violet would have traded places with them in a heartbeat given the chance.

‘Modified’ appeared to be a word that held a different definition to Spartans as well, Violet concluded. Other words to be compiled onto that list would be ‘fun’ and ‘bonding’.

By the end of the hour she was drenched in sweat, out of breath, and now aware of muscles in her own body that she had never used before. Every inch of her ached as she ran on a treadmill in what Kai had called a ‘cool down’, her two gym partners turned tormentors flanking her on either side. They walked briskly at an incline Violet considered to have the same slope as that of ascending a mountain top with ease. Violet desperately tried to catch her breath, focusing on the calorie counter on the machine instead of her body’s pleas to stop.

She relented to herself and smacked the red button on the machine, bringing her suffering to an abrupt end in surrender. Her hands hit her knees, Violet doubled over to catch her breath as the machine rolled her backwards and she tried her hardest not to keel over and die on the gym floor. Kai barked over a laugh at the sight.

“What? Too much?” Riz called over, watching Violet waddle towards the mats.

She lowered herself onto her knees, straining under the weight of her own body before allowing herself to flop forward unceremoniously. Her whole body gave out to the motion. Violet let out a sigh as she laid out on her belly, listening to the beeps of their own machines shutting off. She didn’t care if the other Spartans were watching her lay out while she caught her breath; she was too focused on figuring out how she was going to get herself back up. Heavy footsteps approached and stood beside her.

“We didn’t even get to teach you how to spar yet!“ Kai laughed.

“Next ‘bonding’ session,” she gasped out, peeling the hair that had escaped her ponytail and clung to her neck from her skin. She rolled over onto her back, staring up at where they towered above her, “You know, if you wanted to bond, we could have just had a sleepover. Would have been a lot easier than the attempted murder you just put me through.”

Riz and Kai shared a confused look before looking down at the puddle of sweat that was Violet. Kai co*cked her head in question, “What’s a sleepover?”

Violet pinched back the look of surprise that threatened to cross her face. Everything she had thought to be so mundane about her own life had been so foreign to John, she reminded herself. Why would it be any different for them? Violet peered up at them from the floor, meeting their befuddled stares.

“Everyone sleeps together in the same room. There’s usually a lot of food involved; movies, talking, the occasional manicure. The whole nine yards,” Violet explained.

“Sounds like the barracks,” Kai said, head still co*cked as she thought, “but with a few more steps.”

“Kind of,” she smiled, “just a bit more fun.”

“Alright, we’ve subjected you to our idea of bonding,” Kai said, “When can we try yours? Tonight?”

“Not tonight,” Violet said quickly. She had a date with her bathtub and the bottle of ibuprofen in her medicine cabinet. “Tomorrow night?”

The two women shared a look, Violet too exhausted to try and decipher what it may have meant. Kai nodded in agreement.

“Can’t wait,” she panted out. She weakly held her hands up to the women, “Now help me up, please.”

Violet’s body ached into the next day. She had learned the night before that John gave pretty decent backrubs as they laid in bed, strong hands working out the knots in her shoulders as she sputtered and groaned appreciatively.

Grocery bags littered the kitchen island, all stuffed full with items Violet assumed had not been on the list of approved foods in Miranda’s user manual. John watched from where he stood leaned against the counter as she collected bowls and plates from the cupboards.

“They can’t eat any of that,” he stated, looking out over the assortment of junk food and candy she started to lay out, “The nutrition teams would have a fit.”

“Are you going to tattle on us?” She teased, fixing the drawstring on the pair of green lounge pants she wore, “Or should I tell them about how you’ve been eating the past two weeks to soften the blow?”

He rolled his eyes and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“I’m leaving,” he declared, “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Violet turned her head up to him for a proper kiss, which he happily obliged. He had offered to return to the barracks for the night when she shared her plans with him, Violet insisting that he stayed home. Apparently, the notion of a sleepover did not intrigue him in the same way it did his sisters.

He made towards the door with Sadie trotting behind him expectantly, calling behind him, “Lock the door, goose!”

Violet smiled and called back a goodbye, the door clicking shut behind him. She turned back to the grocery bags, pouring a bag of sour candies into a bowl and popping one into her mouth. She had spent the morning in the grocery store down the block collecting all of the sugariest and most fattening snack foods she could get her hands on in preparation for the night. Pizzas had been ordered for delivery the night before as she laid on the couch messaging back and forth with Riz and Kai about their preferences. She quickly learned that neither bared any preferences to anything, really. It twanged in her chest each time a response returned politely telling Violet that she could choose, save for a single string of emoticons that she had to turn to John for a translation. He looked at the screen for only a few seconds before stating that it had represented the statement of; “Whatever you want. Just order me two”.

The grocery trip had carried a sense of deep nostalgia as Violet wandered the aisles, each package of brightly colored sweets and carton of ice cream tied to a memory of her own girlhood. She had found herself frozen in the aisle, paralyzed by the realization that neither of those women had a candy bar that reminded them of Halloweens spent in princess dresses before the sugar crash would hit and they would be carried off to bed. They didn’t have a flavor of ice cream that brought memories of ice cream parlors after junior prom rushing back; classmates whose faces she could barely remember, but would never forget the giggles shared over selfies taken in formalwear. She had piled her cart full of her own memories with a determination that they would come away with a few memories of their own when they left her apartment the next morning.

Violet slid onto the sofa and pulled her pad into her lap. She took a moment to queue up every old sappy romance and trashy chick flick she could think of on the entertainment system. Violet was determined to give them both the quintessential sleepover experience she remembered from her own youth, adding on every film she remembered consuming with friends growing up. She tapped on a film about a group of bridesmaids before flipping to another she and Meredith had watched over and over again at Demeter about a sorority sister that attended a posh law school after being dumped by her boyfriend.

A knock at the door sent Sadie into a fit of howls as she announced the arrival of their guests. The dog leapt over the back of the couch, using Violet’s lap as a launching pad to do so. She winced as paws came into contact with her still sore muscles and pulled herself off the sofa to follow Sadie down the entryway to the door.

The door opened to reveal Kai on the other side, arms full of pizza boxes and Riz standing beside her. The blonde smiled brightly at her from over the boxes before turning her attention to the dog, Sadie’s tail wagging wildly as Kai greeted the dog enthusiastically. Violet stepped to the side to let Kai in.

“I thought I ordered delivery!” She called after her.

Kai deposited the boxes on the island before dropping to her knees to embrace the dog. Sadie licked her face, wiggling happily in Kai’s arms to expose her belly in hopes for scratches. Kai laughed and continued to shower the dog with attention, only glancing up to respond to Violet, “You did. The delivery kid was downstairs when we came in. He looked confused, so I helped.”

Violet doubted that the teenager who had delivered to her apartment every few days for over two months had been confused by how to get up to her apartment.

Riz lingered in the doorway a moment with that same assessing look Violet had learned all Spartans possessed. John would survey every room they entered; a byproduct of his training. They all did the same survey he did. John had done it when she brought him home the first time. Kai had done it when she arrived before barhopping. Vannak had done it when he came to check in on John the week prior. Riz did it now as her eyes dragged across it before entering. Violet wondered if any of them had ever felt safe enough to enter a room without checking its contents before.

Riz gave the entryway one last deciding look before stepping in, “So, this is Chief’s home away from home?”

Violet smiled, “This would be it.”

Riz stepped into the living room. Kai now sat on the sofa, cradling Sadie in her arms like an infant. Violet noticed that both women were dressed nearly identically in their civvies, matching rucksacks containing the few items each had brought for their stay. Nothing they wore showed their personalities, nor any sense of individuality. Just identical neutral shades and standard cuts. Violet made a mental note to recommend a shopping trip for the next girls night .

Riz continued her careful assessment as she stepped into the living room, eyes sweeping over the kitchen and to the windows. The sun had begun to set over the pond, casting gilded hues over the autumn-kissed foliage. Riz smiled slightly as she looked out at the balcony.

“Pretty view,” she commented.

Her eyes fell on the bookcases and she took a few steps near them. The small smile she wore returned as her eyes fell to the photograph of John and Violet. She looked through the pictures, picking up a picture of Violet playing with Elliot and Elize in her parents’ backyard shortly after she moved back to Reach.

Kai looked up from Sadie’s belly rub on the couch, smiling at the botanist.

“What’s your plan for us tonight?”

“I figured we could eat, watch a movie; just see how the night goes,” Violet shrugged. She was reminded of John’s need for routine in the early weeks. A lack of structure had made him noticeably uncomfortable. She had been sure to give him the rundown of their nights when he arrived. “I picked out a bunch I thought you might like; just a bunch of typical girls night-sleepover movies. These aren’t meant to follow any sort of regimen. We’ll just decide what sounds fun when it sounds fun.”

“Good luck finding a romance movie Riz hasn’t watched,” Kai snorted. She turned her attention to the snacks laid out on the counter, excitedly filling a plate with pizza and neon bright gummy candies. “She’s inhaled them since we removed our pellets.”

Riz lingered in front of the bookshelves, that same far away look she had seen in John riddling the redhead’s face as she looked over the assortment of frames among the plants. Her eyes dropped from the frames to the books that lined the bottom shelves of each bookcases.

“Why don’t you pick one for us then, Kai?” Violet called over to her, crossing to where Riz stood.

Riz looked up when Violet stepped beside her. She gestured to the books that filled the last two shelves of each of the three bookcases. “I was admiring your collection.”

Violet smiled, “Thanks. That’s a third of it, actually. The rest of my books are still in storage at my parents’ place until I get some more shelves. Guess I’ve been a bit distracted the past few months. Are you a reader?”

Riz nodded and Kai jumped into the conversation with a full mouth from where she ate at the island, “She’s a linguist that spends her free time with her nose buried in a book. Go figure.”

Riz rolled her eyes and returned to looking over the titles. Kai shuffled behind them as she added another handful of junk to her plate. Violet turned to look up at Riz, her stoic silence reminding Violet of a rainy spring evening spent before the same bookcases with another Spartan.

“What do you like to read?”

“I’ll read whatever is assigned to me.”

“What about in your down time?” Violet prompted, searching for an answer not so cloaked in professionalism, “What do you pick up?”

Riz’s lips turned up into a small smile, her fingers running over the spines of the shelved books, “Fiction, mostly.”

“What kind of fiction?”

“Fantasy.”

Violet smiled, “My favorite. That’s what all of these are, actually. I’m sure the Archives have a much more extensive collection than I do, but you’re welcome to borrow any of them. I’ll warn you; those two shelves are mostly fantasy romance, though, if that’s not your thing.”

Riz’s eyes immediately followed her finger to the far shelf. She lowered herself down, sitting in front of it as she scanned over titles. Violet smiled and sat beside her on the floor, pulling out a few titles she liked to pass to Riz. Kai settled onto the sofa with Sadie and a full plate behind them, flicking through the movies Violet picked out before they arrived as she ate. Kai’s eyes scanned over the synopsis of one of the movies.

“This one is about a woman who moves to the city and has to go back home to her rural town to divorce her husband so she can get married to someone else,” she called over, gauging interest before starting the film.

“I’ve seen that one,” Riz stated, “They stay married.”

She pulled a red paperback off of the shelf and turned it over to read the blurb on the back. Violet smiled excitedly, tapping on the book with a fingernail.

“Oh, I loved that one! It’s about fairies, but more, like, fae kind of fairies. The first one is good but the second one,” she tapped a finger against the thick teal book beside it in emphasis, “I’m pretty sure this book was the only thing that got me through my first one of John’s deployments. If you’re into fictional men with wings, I highly recommend it.”

Intrigue riddled Riz’s face as she slipped the teal book off the shelf as well. Violet giggled as the redhead flipped it over to read the back, the corners of Riz’s lips turning up into another small smile.

“Oh! Maybe this one? A girl falls in love with a soldier, he deploys, they exchange love letters for years-.”

“She marries someone else, he gets shot. Next.” Riz called back, turning over another book and placing it on the growing stack beside her.

Night settled beyond the balcony windows. Inky hues crept across the park, casting a purple glow on the surface of the pond, the city lights dotting the skies. The three women settled into the night in the same way. Kai had picked the film about the sorority sister gone law student while Riz curled up on the couch beside her with the red paperback, devouring it in a speed that Violet was deeply envious of.

Violet sat on the floor between them with Kai’s foot resting in her lap, an assortment of bottles of brightly colored nail polish laid out on the coffee table. It hadn’t surprised Violet when Kai had come away from her ponderance over color choice having decided she wanted a different color on each toe. She finished up with the neon orange shade Kai had selected and twisted the cap back onto the bottle.

“Next,” she said simply, holding her hand up for the following color.

Kai pressed a cheery green into her hand, eyes fixed on the entertainment center as she watched the pink-clad blonde deliver her final disposition.

“She was able to figure out that she killed her dad because of her perm? Brilliant.”

“Can’t risk deactivating the ammonium thioglycolate,” Violet chuckled, “It's the cardinal rule of perm maintenance, after all.”

Riz’s hand gripped her shoulder suddenly. Violet turned to look up at her, Riz’s eyes still glued to the page he read. The sudden motion had come several times throughout her reading, usually punctuated by a soft gasp.

“What part?” Violet asked.

“The fire night,” Riz whispered, a hint of excitement to her tone. Violet squeezed her fingers in return .

“The fire night,” she repeated with a gasp as she recalled the events of the chapter.

Riz’s hand fell from her shoulder, grasping blindly at the assortment of chocolate on the coffee table without removing her eyes from the page. What was left of the snacks had migrated from the island to the coffee table in front of them; the candies were picked over, spoons left in empty ice cream cartons, a single box of now cold pizza left. Violet returned to the bottle of bright green lacquer, screwing the lid on tight before holding out the blue Kai had selected. Kai took it from her, cracked the paint-crusted cap from the bottle, and handed it back to Violet wordlessly. Violet dabbed the brush against the mouth of the bottle to remove the excess from the bristles before bringing it to Kai’s foot.

The sound of the tumbler turning in the lock pulled three sets of eyes to the door. Two sets watched defensively, both Kai and Riz straightening up to better see the unexpected visitor. Violet looked around the couch to the entryway.

The door creaked open to reveal John in the doorway. Riz and Kai both relaxed at the sight of him and settled back into their previous activities as he entered the apartment quietly. Violet smirked as she watched him tug off his boots and hang his jacket beside hers.

“Miss me?” She asked as he crossed the entryway, Sadie’s tail thumping against the hardwood at the sight of him.

John only smirked in reply as he made his way toward the bedroom door. Sadie followed after him, tags jingling as she jumped up onto the bed and curled up at the foot of it.

“I’m going to bed,” he called over his shoulder.

“Goodnight,” Riz and Kai called after him. The door swung shut behind him and Violet could hear the bed creak as he slipped into it. Neither woman made a motion to move. Riz flipped the page of her book, Kai handed Violet the next polish color.

“You’re still sleeping in the guest room with us, right?“ Kai asked.

Violet laughed, brushing bright purple onto the next toe. “Duh,” she capped the bottle and handed it back to her friend. “It’s a sleepover.”

Violet slept in the guest room for all of an hour before crawling out of the bed to tiptoe into their bedroom. Kai slept like the dead, flopped down on her stomach with arms and legs flung out beside her. Violet carefully maneuvered herself out from under Kai’s arm, careful not to disturb the sleeping woman. The other side of the bed was empty to Violet’s surprise and relief. She slid out of the bed, grasping around in the dark room to get her bearings. Her hip collided with the corner of her desk painfully, Violet squeaking out a yelp. Kai turned over, Violet rubbing her hip as she padded over to the door and twisted the knob slowly.

She found a single lamp lit in the living room, bathing Riz with warm light where she sat on the sofa. The red paperback has been replaced by the teal book as it rested atop the yellow blanket in her lap. Riz looked up from the page, an impressive amount already read, and met eyes with Violet. A despondent look crossed the redhead’s face.

“I thought you said I’d like the love interest in the first one,” she whispered, “He’s terrible in this one.”

Violet chuckled and nodded, “I only said you’d like him in the first book. He’s such an asshole in the second one. The new guy is so much better. Trust me. What part are you on?”

Riz mumbled out the plot lines of the chapter before turning back to her book. Violet smiled, turning towards the closed bedroom door.

“Tell John to remember that he has guests before you two start anything,” Riz called after her.

Violet winced at the implication, nodding as she slowly opened the door. She heard Riz huff a laugh behind her as she stepped into the quiet room.

Sadie lifted her head to greet her from the foot of the bed as she entered. The dog yawned widely, limbs stretching before she laid her head back down and started to snore again. John slept with his back to her, his breathing soft and even. Violet crossed the room to her side of the bed, whispering expletives each time the floor creaked under her.

“It's a good thing botanists aren’t sent on stealth missions,” John’s eyes didn’t open as he spoke, “you would have been killed before you even got out of the guest room.”

“What’s your point, big guy?”

“You’re loud, Vi.”

“I hurt myself,” she whispered sharply, “you’re teasing an injured woman, you jerk.”

John chuckled and drew back the covers in a silent invitation. She accepted, slipping under the sheets beside him and pressing herself against his chest. His fingers traced her back through her shirt as she settled beside him.

“I thought you were sleeping in the barracks tonight,” she whispered, curling into the heat he radiated under the cool fabric of the sheets.

“I thought you were sleeping with Kai and Riz,” he retorted.

“I was. Well, with Kai. I think Riz is pulling an all-nighter.” She chuckled. She tilted her head up to press a kiss to his jaw, “I like your sisters.”

John’s arm draped across her waist, his lips pressing against her head before his head returned to his pillow.

“They like you too, goose.”

Chapter 23: Fishies

Chapter Text

Six months ago, Violet Harris had no Spartans in her home and no plans of ever hosting one. Now, she had four; all in various stages of residency as they paraded through her unlocked door every so many days. Riz and Kai had become a semi-permanent fixture in their apartment after the sleepover, much to Violet’s enjoyment and John’s masqueraded annoyance.

The nights grew colder and the air more crisp as September crept by, taking with it the third week of their combined leave. Riz sat across from her on the balcony, eyes fixed upon the pages of the pink book that followed the teal book. She had finished the sequel in the days that followed the sleepover, showing up at Violet’s door during dinner one evening to demand the rest of the series.

Violet flipped the page of her own book, slouching in her own chair under the thick blankets she had purchased earlier in the week. She hadn’t had much use for heavy blankets and warm clothing during her four years spent in blazingly hot temperatures. Riz and Kai had accompanied her to the shopping center downtown for that outing; Riz had come away with a bag full of books, with some encouragement to indulge from Violet. Kai came away with a few violently bright articles of clothing that lived in their apartment. Both had been unminding of the stares that followed them through the shops as they browsed and laughed. Violet had enjoyed being with friends.

The park seemed to collapse into fall along with the temperatures. Leaves littered the gray walking paths below where they sat, the pond spotted with oranges and yellows. Violet could hear the faraway echoes of Sadie’s barks from across the street. She looked up, making out where the dog played with Kai in the grassy field. Kai held the orange ball over her head, Sadie leaping up in attempts to grab it while the blonde laughed. She had insisted that she took Sadie for her evening walk and Violet had been happy to let her do so. She smiled before returning to her book; an old story of hobbits, friendship, and adventure her dad had introduced her to as a child that she reread every fall. Riz gasped slightly across from her.

“What?” Violet asked, jumping slightly at the sound.

Riz only shushed her in reply without looking up. The redhead shuffled slightly in her seat to pick up the mug of tea beside her. Violet shook her head, glancing behind her into the apartment. She caught Vannak’s eyes on the balcony, that familiar soft look on his own face as he looked at the redhead across from the botanist. He noticed Violet and pulled his eyes away.

John and Vannak lingered around the island, picking at the remnants of their dinner as they talked and half watched the nature documentary Vannak had put on. Violet had thought feeding one Spartan had been an expense all on its own until she started regularly feeding four. The cashier at the restaurant she had ordered from for the night asked her if she was having a party when she dragged Riz and Kai with her to pick it up. She had just nodded politely in response as she paid the astronomical bill they had wracked up.

The bright chime of her pad pulled her focus from the book again. She looked up, finding John already hovering over it.

“Who is it?” she called through the doors.

“Your mom. You want it?”

“I’ll call her back,” Violet decided, leaning back into her seat. The chiming ceased for a moment, only to begin again a few moments later.

“She’ll just keep calling, Vi.”

“I’ll call her in the morning,” Violet sighed as the chiming ceased and began a third time, “Can you turn it off?”

John lifted her pad to do so, but the chiming began again. He turned to her with raised brow and held it out to her. She sighed, marking her place in her book and setting it down before holding out her hand to John as he crossed the apartment with her still ringing pad.

“Sorry,” she murmured to Riz. She accepted the call, Jane’s voice erupting from the phone before Violet could open her mouth to greet her.

“Am I interrupting?” Her mother asked.

“No,” she lied. Violet knew it would make no difference to Jane if she had been interrupting.

“If I hadn’t been interrupting, then you would have answered the phone for your mother the first time,” she chided, Riz’s eyes lifting over her book. Violet inhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders before responding.

“Hi, Mom,” she sighed out, “What’s up?”

“Katie has Thursday, Friday and Monday off this weekend. Andy is taking those days off as well, so they are going to come join us at the lake for the weekend. I assumed since you and John are still on leave, you could join us? We were thinking it would be a perfect time for us to meet John’s family as well.”

Riz lowered her book to her own blanketed lap, watching Violet curiously. Violet looked between her and the pad. Jane had asked the both of them several times now to meet John’s team, claiming that it wasn’t fair that he had spent all of his time with her family without the Harris’ getting to know the people he spent his time with. Violet recalled how long it had taken John to fully settle into her own family’s overwhelm. She had been hesitant to subject the rest of the team to it, placating her mother with claims of their overcrowded schedules and inflated duties.

“Mom, I’m not sure if they are available-.”

“You said they were on leave, too. Something about John requiring them to take time off while he is off, correct?”

Violet’s teeth gnashed against her cheek, wishing she didn’t share nearly every detail of her life with her mother during their calls for the information to only be used against her. “They are. They just-.”

“What? Do they not want to meet us?”

“I’m sure they do, Mom. They’re all over tonight, so I’ll ask them and let you-.”

“If they’re over, just ask them now while I’m on the phone so I can start planning. Do you not want us to meet them? Are you embarrassed by us, Violet Renee?”

“Hey, kiddo!”

“Hi Dad,” she called back to her father’s distant voice, “No, Mom. I’m not-.”

“John! Just give the pad to John,” Violet sighed, watching John look up at his name and cross the room back to where she sat. “He’s easier to plan with than you are.”

“Gee, thanks,” Violet mumbled. She held the pad out to John, confusion creasing his face. “It’s for you.”

He took the pad, brow raised in question to Violet. Jane called his name again, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Better, ma’am. Thank you.”

Jane overtook the conversation, John responding militantly to each of her demands. Violet noticed how Riz and Vannak straightened up at her mother’s tone along with John. The bossy little woman had learned that she could get her daughter’s boyfriend to respond to just about anything if she used her school administrator's voice, much to Violet’s dismay.

“We will be there from Thursday to Monday,” Jane recounted to John, “I expect all four of you to be there. Can I count on that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If they hear me, I’d like a reply as well.”

Violet rolled her eyes at the chorus of ‘yes, ma’ams’ that followed. This was going to be a long weekend, she thought. Jane called out her goodbyes before disconnecting the call, leaving the four in uncomfortable silence as they all regarded one another, unsure of what to say after the strange interaction.

“Was she military?” Riz asked, breaking the tense silence.

“No,” Violet sighed, “Close though. Middle school principal.”

The sound of nails clicking against tile pulled Violet’s eyes away from the uneasy stares that had settled on her since the call. Sadie trotted through the apartment, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she greeted each one of her new friends. Vannak scooped her up into his arms, holding her like an infant as he scratched her belly. Kai entered after the dog, glancing around at the uncomfortable stares the four shared with a confused look.

“What did I miss?”

“We’re going on vacation,” Vannak stated, not pulling his eyes from Sadie’s loving stare.

Kai smiled brightly, a happy gasp escaping her lips, “Fun! When?”

The team turned to Violet expectantly. She tucked her feet under herself in her chair, “Thursday morning. We should probably get going pretty early, it’s a bit of a drive to get up there.”

Riz chuckled, turning her attention back to her book, “What time do you think is early, Violet?”

“Ten?”

“That’s not early.”

Violet rolled her eyes before returning to her own book, nerves rolling in her belly at the notion of the forced trip. John meeting her family had been one thing, but this was new and uncharted territory for all of them. She needed to call Katie, she thought, she needed all of the backup she could get.

“Then it's settled,” Kai called, settling onto the sofa, “First family vacation!”

Violet looked up to John, offering him a small smile that he returned before heading back into the apartment. A gust of chilled air blew across the balcony, sending a shiver down Violet’s spine. She closed her book and stood, gathering up her blanket and mug.

“I’m freezing,” she said to Riz, “Join us inside?”

Riz nodded and shut her own book, gripping the armrest of the chair as she rose. She gasped out in pain, face twisting as she lowered herself back down. Violet stepped to her, crouching down in front of her and taking her hand to help her up. Riz waved her off, sucking in a breath, her eyes pinched shut. Violet glanced into the apartment and found Vannak already on his feet, his face a mask of concern as he watched the redhead.

“Do you want me to get one of them to come help you?” Violet offered.

“No,” Riz gasped out in a quick response, “No. I can do this.”

Violet nodded, her hand resting on Riz’s leg. “What are they doing for the pain?”

“There were a few surgeries,” she gasped out as she leaned forward, clutching her side. Violet reached forward and grabbed her hand wordlessly, allowing Riz to squeeze it hard enough that she was sure it would leave bruises. “Bone grafts, skin grafts. Then physical therapy. When that didn’t work; painkillers. Steroids. Sucking it up. I’ve tried everything. Nothing works.”

“Not everything,” Violet smiled, realization blossoming in her chest as Riz pushed herself up with a pained grunt.

Violet found herself adding ‘early’ to the list of words that bore a different meaning to John and his companions. Kai, Riz, and Vannak all arrived Thursday morning an hour before their departure time to find Violet still scrambling around the apartment to finish packing. Vannak had been relentless in his teasing as she tore through the boxes of her old hiking gear she had brought from her parents’ house for last minute items, spending the morning calling out how many minutes Violet had left until the time she had set to leave.

The drive from New Alexandria to the lake hidden in the Highland Mountains had felt like a sacred experience. Violet recalled every turn in the road as if they were the curves of her own body. Each passing pine and open patch of farmland felt like she was coming alive again as she watched the world pass by her outside of the passenger window. She felt like a child again; like the six year old who would fall asleep halfway through the drive, the ten year old who counted each cow they passed and sang along to the songs her dad played, to the fourteen year old who bickered with her sister until they were forced into silence with threats of being grounded. Part of her flickered into existence again as they drove; a part that had felt forgotten only to be found in the corners of herself.

John’s hand had rested on her leg the entire drive, listening while Violet pointed out the bait shop they would go to with Bill and the few restaurants her family had frequented growing up as they passed through the lazy little town a few miles away from the kiva. Kai called out every animal they passed from where she sat with Sadie until she fell asleep. Riz read the entire drive, Violet secretly admiring how she could do so without getting violently carsick. Vannak had engaged in Kai’s identifications with facts about each animal she called out until the blonde dozed off, Sadie’s snores echoing through the rental car. Violet pretended not to notice how the man’s hand would occasionally squeeze the redhead’s knee behind them.

They arrived at the kiva late in the afternoon, the sun already casting orange hues across the yard as they pulled into the drive. Violet stepped out of the car into the chilled mountain air, smiling up at the rounded concrete and wood structure. How long had it been since her last visit, she wondered. Five years? Six? It was just the same as she left it, sitting in the shade of the pines. Doors slammed behind her as the team stepped out, joining John as he started to unload luggage. They all huddled around him, surveying their surroundings as they listened to him speak, his voice low. Violet busied herself with pulling her jacket out of her bag and tugging on the fleece, adjusting her knit hat as she tried to listen in.

“The mother is Jane Harris; very physically affectionate, be prepared for contact,” she heard John state, the team standing around him as they surveyed the exterior of the house. “Two children; three years of age, male, and eighteen months of age, female, so have your eyes low. Katie Varga is to be our main point of contact if any of us runs into an issue; her orders supersede Violet’s.”

“Baby,” Violet called, a tad miffed that her sister held more authority than her as she tossed the strap of her bag over her shoulder. John turned to her, that stoic professionalism she saw in the halls of FLEETCOM returning as he huddled with his team. “It’s not a battle brief. There are no orders. It’s my family; you’re all going to be fine.”

“Yeah, baby,” Vannak chuckled, John’s eyes falling upon him in a deadly glare.

Violet rolled her eyes as she opened the car door to let Sadie out. The dog leapt from the far back seat she had shared with Kai during the drive down, galloping up the front steps and into the kiva with a series of happy barks.

Riz turned to John, her voice low as she said, “You know, we’re not too far from-.”

“I know.”

Jane stepped out of the house, red-painted lips stretched into a smile as she greeted them. She walked right past Violet’s outstretched arms to hug John, who didn’t greet her mother as stiffly as he did during the first dinner he had spent with her family. John leaned down to greet the woman with a small smile, allowing Jane to throw her arms around him and press a kiss to his cheek.

“Momma’s boy,” Violet muttered, smirking when John shot her a look over her mother’s shoulder.

“Hi sweetheart,” Jane gushed, finally releasing the much larger man. She gripped John’s arms as she looked up at him, “How was the drive in? You didn’t let Violet drive, did you? She’s a terrible driver. Remind me to tell you those stories later.”

“No, ma’am, I drove,” John responded, Violet scoffing, “It was fine, ma’am.”

Jane smiled, nodding approvingly before turning to the three super soldiers who watched her cautiously, “And this must be everyone?”

Riz, Vannak, and Kai all looked to John with questioning glances, their leader offering them all a curt nod in reply. John introduced each member of the team, Jane meeting them with smiles and the hugs Violet had asked her to resist in favor of their comfort. Yet, in true Jane Harris fashion, she ignored the wishes of her daughter and threw her arms around each with happy greetings. Vannak tensed at the hug, arms straight at his sides until Riz bumped his shoulder with her own and he gave Jane an awkward pat on the back. Kai was the most enthusiastic, meeting Jane’s wide smile with her own and leaning into the hug before Jane did. Riz’s reaction to the hug had been the most surprising to Violet; the redhead greeted her mother with a smile and leaned into the hug, her eyes closing with a soft sigh as Jane’s arms wrapped around her. The hug had lasted a moment longer than the others before Riz released the older woman. Jane reached up to pat her cheek with a warm smile and told her again how nice it was to meet her.

“Vi,” Jane turned to face her daughter, giving her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. She laughed softly before whispering, “I feel tiny.”

“They do that,” Violet whispered in response with a giggle.

“Go get that dog of yours before she gets up on the counter,” Jane instructed, letting go of her daughter and turning back to John, “I’ll show you where everyone will be sleeping. Get your things and follow me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” was their collective response.

Jane started to turn back to the house and stopped, turning back to face Violet and John, “You both are in separate rooms for the weekend. Dad’s rules; no boys in bedrooms until you’re married.”

Violet scoffed, “Seriously? I’m thirty years old and we practically live together.”

Jane raised her hands defensively, “Take it up with your father. Our house, our-.”

“Your rules,” Violet grumbled. She turned to John, who gave her a short shrug in response. “Fine.”

Violet gave John’s arm a gentle squeeze as she passed and slung her hiking bag over her shoulder. She ran her fingers over the wood sign beside the door; Bill had purchased it at a market in the nearby town during one of their visits when she was young. Her fingers ran along the words carved into the polished plaque; The Harris Family est. 2516; Bill, Jane, Katie, Violet. Her brother-in-law's name, along with her niece and nephew, had been added below on strips of wood that dangled from the base. It made her smile as she looked over it. It felt like coming home.

The modest kiva was the same as she left it. She hadn’t stepped into the home in years, but it seemed that nothing had changed since her last visit. The same furniture sat in the same places, the same pictures hung on the walls, her dad’s collection of antique wooden birds still sat proudly displayed on the shelves. Her mother had started to prepare dinner using the same serveware she had eaten from as a girl. Violet stepped into the living space and looked around at the twin chairs and sofa, all worn with age and use. A nature documentary played too loudly on the entertainment center, toys scattered across the floor to announce the presence of Elliot and Elise. She shrugged her bag off and leaned it against the chair. Behind her, she could hear Jane talking loudly to the team, all listening intently as she explained sleeping arrangements to the men and women who towered over her. Violet turned to the doors that led out to the patio and followed the sounds of Bill and Katie’s voices that mingled with bright laughter.

She stepped out onto the deck that she helped her father rebuild as a teenager. She breathed in the scent of pine, juniper, and the campfire that already smoked in the pit by the water, letting the smell fill her lungs. She hoped that she would be able to take in enough of the clean air to take home with her and sustain her until the next visit. Elliot played in the yard, running between where Katie and Andy stood watching in the yard beyond the deck to the water’s edge. Evergreens surrounded the lake, dotted with yellow and red foliage that reflected on the quiet surface of the water, hiding the hiking paths beyond that Violet could map by memory. Bill sat in a chair on the dock, watching Elliot run up to the smooth surface of the water and smiling as his grandson burst into another peal of laughter.

Jane’s voice grew closer as she led the team through the house. Violet turned to find they all surveying the house with that intense gaze as they followed behind her mother and listened to her list off what rooms everyone would be staying in for the weekend. They all seemed to look to John; following his lead as they navigated unfamiliar territory. Kai seemed to relax as she watched John do the same, Vannak still taking in everything around him. Violet couldn’t quite place the look on Riz’s face as she followed Jane through the house.

Jane turned her focus to Violet once more, pointing towards the open back doors, “Dinner is ready. Go collect everyone, please.”

“It’s four. We’re eating already?”

“We’ve all been traveling all day, Violet. Don’t argue. Go get everyone, please. And don’t shout-.”

Violet turned back to the open doorway. “Hey!” She called, heads turning to face her with bright smiles, “Dinner is ready!”

She turned back to her mother’s disapproving glare with a grin. Jane shook her head, mumbling under her breath before setting off to the kitchen. Bill and Katie entered in a chorus of conversation, all calling out their hellos as they descended upon the Spartan team observing them. Elise was passed to Violet in a shuffle of arms as Katie passed by her to where they all stood, giving John’s arm a squeeze before greeting the three. She didn’t intrude upon their space in the same way Jane did, only stood in front of them and introduced herself with smiles and handshakes. Violet pressed a kiss to the baby’s cheek and gathered a bowl in the other arm when Jane called for them all to grab something to take outside. The team fell in at the order, still tensely quiet. Katie chatted softly with Riz as they crossed the kitchen to the doors, that same unplaceable look on Riz’s face as she chatted with the dark haired woman.

Violet stepped in beside Kai as they followed John and Bill outside, the men chatting as they crossed the deck to the old wooden patio table that had been a part of so many meals that it felt like a part of her. Extra chairs were pulled up to it in a mismatch of furniture to accommodate the extra guests. Bill and John cleared toys away with gentle kicks as they walked to the table and set down the items Jane had shoved into their arms.

“Uncle John!”

John’s head turned to where Elliot waddled across the yard to him, Andy watching from the water’s edge. He waved in greeting, John raising his hand in return as Elliot approached him with a wide smile. He ran past Violet, leaving her to wonder if she was doomed to a lifetime of being snubbed by her own family. The boy wrapped a small fist around John’s finger, the shyness he had demonstrated in their first meeting having dissipated over the time his auntie’s big quiet friend had spent with their family.

“Uncle John, fishies!” Elliot cried, tugging John’s hand as he pointed towards the lake, “Fishies!”

John looked to Violet. She adjusted Elise on her lip and offered John a smile as Elliot began to repeat the word. “You better go see,” she told him.

He nodded, apprehensively allowing the boy to lead him by the hand to the glittering waters of the lake. He nodded to Andy in greeting before he crouched down beside Elliot, listening quietly as the boy babbled on about the minnows that darted in the shallows with happy squeals as the fish moved about. Violet smiled, bouncing Elise on her hip as he watched John place a large hand on the boy’s back as Elliot crouched over the water, ready to pull him up if the toddler lost balance. The sight tugged something inside of her as she watched. To see him be so gentle and quiet with something so delicate… she enjoyed the sight of it. John turned to look up at the house, offering her one of those rare smiles he saved for her company. He said something to the boy and Elliot straightened up to start his run to the deck again. He crashed into Violet’s legs with a giggle, smiling up at her.

“Hi, sweet boy,” she laughed, crouching down to smooth his hair and kiss a chubby cheek.

“Auntie Vi see fishies?” He asked, already tugging at her hand.

Violet laughed, watching John approach them from across the grass. “Maybe later, buddy. We need to go eat dinner first. Okay?”

Elliot nodded, little hand slipping into hers as she stood up again. John stepped in front of her and Elliot threw himself against his legs again. Elise tugged at her hair sharply and Violet lifted a hand to push her hair out of the baby’s grasp. John’s fingers found it first, gathering the waves into his hand before brushing them over the opposite shoulder. She smiled up at him, that soft smile still on his own face as he looked down at her. Violet felt a sense of peace come over her as she considered the four of them standing there; something about it felt right. She found herself unable to place exactly what about it felt that way in the same way she had been unable to place Riz’s expression. She thought that maybe it just wasn’t something she needed to understand as she reached out to take John’s hand. She just knew that she liked the feeling.

John gave her fingers a squeeze before turning to face the deck, finding his team sitting stiffly around the table. Riz and Katie continued to talk, the redhead the most visibly comfortable of the three. Vannak was quiet as he sat beside her, Kai chatting happily with Jane as the older woman told her stories about Violet as a teenager. Violet turned to meet his stare.

“Are they going to be okay?” She asked, Elise’s head falling to her shoulder as the girl yawned.

“They’ll be fine,” he said surely, “I was.”

Violet smiled and curled her fingers into John’s, leading him back to the deck to their combined families. Elliot hid behind John’s legs as they approached, unnerved by the three new faces that sat around the table. Violet crouched beside the boy as he peeked around John’s legs and poked his belly.

“These are Uncle John’s friends,” she said gently. She pointed to each as she told Elliot their names, “Can you say hi?”

The boy buried his face against John’s legs, earning a laugh from Kai. Violet smiled and offered a hand to the boy that he quickly took, leading him over to the table. She passed Elise off across the table to Katie before settling into the open seat beside Riz, John taking his seat at the head of the table opposite Bill who had engaged Vannak in conversation with stories of his time working at the zoo. Kai made faces at Elise, the baby erupting into fits of giggles at each silly expression. Elliot clambered into Violet’s lap and started to reach for the food just beyond his grasp.

Violet looked over to John, finding his head tilted as he looked over the table. She bumped her knee against his, pulling him from his intrinsic conversation.

“What’s she saying?” She murmured.

“That they look happy,” he replied, “She likes it.”

“Are you?” She asked.

John turned to her, the corner of his mouth lifted as his hand found her leg under the table. His thumb brushed over her leggings in a gentle touch. “Yeah,” he responded softly, “I am.”

Elliot squirmed in her lap to face Riz, staring up at the woman in wonder as she talked with his mother. He reached a small hand out to Riz’s hair, touching the puff of curls she had tied her hair back into. Riz turned at the touch to face him, his fingers curling in her hair as he touched his own in wonder.

“Like me?” He asked.

“Yeah, baby,” Katie said softly, “she has curly hair just like you.”

“Pretty,” he said, earning a gentle smile from Riz.

“Yours is pretty, too,” Riz said, her voice gentle as she regarded the boy.

Elliot’s attention drifted from her curls to her arms, tiny fingers tracing the identical scars he had curiously studied on John’s arms during his third dinner with the Harris’. Violet watched Katie stiffen across the table as she prepared to intervene, Vannak and Kai’s eyes following the boy’s.

“Owies,” he said, tracing the scars on her hands.

“She did have owies, El,” Katie confirmed. The boy’s face set into a hard serious line as he looked up at Riz, deep in thought.

“Like Uncle John?”

Riz replied before Katie could with a nod, “Yes.”

“All better?”

“Almost.”

“Hug better?”

Riz didn’t reply before she pulled the boy to her, his little arms wrapping around her neck. He rested his head on her shoulder as Riz melted into the embrace. Elliot quickly moved on from the interaction, slipping out of Violet’s lap into Riz’s as he picked food off of the redhead’s plate. Riz didn’t correct him or pass him back to Violet. She turned back to her conversation with Katie about the curriculum the woman taught to her advanced placement literature classes without skipping a beat, scooping another spoonful of fruit into her plate so Elliot could pick out the halves of strawberries. John couldn’t recall a time in the past twenty five years that he had seen the linguist smile as widely as she did around that table.

Katie brought out a bottle of wine and decks of cards after dinner, claiming the need to expose John’s family to the traditions of their own. All four Spartans quickly caught on to the rules of gameplay for all of the games Katie and Jane took turns explaining. Little had the woman known that she would be subjecting the family to three hours of continuous play as each Spartan’s own competitive spirit outweighed the other.

By hour four, the Harris family had slunk off to bed in a steady trickle. John had been banned from playing after one too many victories, Kai had been disqualified for counting cards, and Riz had resigned to nursing her glass of wine from under her blanket as she watched. Violet and Vannak remained, both too stubborn to surrender from their seats across the table. John leaned back in his seat, absently petting Sadie’s back with a foot as he watched the two throw hard stares across the table. Violet rearranged her cards, lovely face expressionless as she looked across the table to Vannak expectantly.

“Do you,” he asked through gritted teeth, “have any twos?”

Silence fell across the table as Violet looked over her cards. Kai leaned in slightly, John finding himself slightly impressed by the stoic impression his botanist wore as she regarded her hand. She folded her cards into a single stack and tapped them against the tabletop.

“Go fish,” she said plainly.

Vannak erupted into a series of expletives as he drew another card from the stack Riz had shuffled a surprising amount of times throughout the night. “Bullsh*t,” he growled, “she’s bluffing.”

“I’m not!” Violet laughed, a smile splitting her face again as she slapped her cards against the table.

“Bullsh*t, Harris!”

“You want to challenge it? If you challenge me and you’re wrong, I win. You really want to take that risk?” she asked emphatically, sipping from her glass with a chortle.

“Riz!” Vannak turned to the redhead, John and Kai’s eyes following to where Riz sat beside Violet.

She took Violet’s hand and looked over her cards, Violet staring back at Vannak with a smug expression. Riz’s lips twitched in a smirk, “She’s not bluffing. You’re twenty credits down.”

Kai barked out a laugh as Vannak groaned and dropped his head. Violet let out a triumphant laugh, tossing her cards onto the table and showing her hand. John leaned against the table, shaking his head at the celebratory smile she flashed his way. Vannak smacked his cards onto the stack between them, “Double or nothing, kid.”

Violet copied his motion and John held back a groan at the prospect of another hour spent around the table, “You’re on.”

“I’m cutting you both off,” Riz said, placing a hand over the cards and sliding them herself before standing up. “I’m going to go for a walk before I turn in. Van, join me?”

Vannak stood quickly with a nod. Riz threw her blanket over her shoulders, tugging the puff of curls she had tied her hair into out from under it before stepping beside Vannak as they set off towards the lake. Violet slipped into the seat beside him, a small smile lifting her lips as they watched the twosome disappear into the shadows. John noticed how freely the linguist moved as she walked, the careful movements he had grown used to seeing since her injury less often. He had been apprehensive when Violet had told him about speaking with Keyes about Riz enrolling in the pain management drug trial, yet the unencumbered way she moved had proved it to be worthwhile.

Violet tucked the cards back into their box and turned to him, tilting her head towards where the fire still glowed in the concrete put. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulder as she stood, holding a hand out to him, “Sit with me until the fire goes out?”

He took her hand as he stood, Violet smiling that bright Violet smile. Kai stood as well, announcing that she was off to bed. Violet led him to the fire pit, the dying light casting shadows across her face. She had been more relaxed since they arrived at the lake. There was a calmness to her that he hadn’t seen since he arrived back on Reach in the presence of her family, surrounded by clear air and skies unaffected by light pollution. He liked seeing her this way.

She slipped into his lap after he sat, resting her head on his chest as she stared at the crackling flames. He relished in the feeling of her body pressed against his, questioning how he’d sleep the next four nights without her beside him. Violet let out a happy sigh, her eyes dragging across the dark surface of the lake.

“I’m sorry for dragging you all into this,” she said softly.

“Don’t be,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her head, “I like being here with you.”

She smiled, lifting her face to his. John brought his lips to hers, fingers finding her neck as he kissed her. Violet leaned into his lips with a soft sigh. John wondered just how far they would need to go into the surrounding wood to avoid being heard.

The crunching of gravel pulled him from his assessing. He looked up from Violet to find Kai watching them with a toothy grin, bedroll in hand as she stood in the lawn.

“Don’t mind me, lovebirds,” Kai smirked, shaking out her bedroll, “I’m just getting my bed set up for the night.”

“We have plenty of places for you to sleep inside, Kai,” Violet reminded her, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kai laughed and turned to face John as she laid down. “Remember when we were running wilderness training up at Longhorn? I think we were maybe twelve; it was one of the times that Mendez had us playing Hunter and Hunted. You and I teamed up to hide from Vannak and ended up in that tree for the night?”

John chuckled fondly at the memory, “We took turns keeping watch. It was right after Déjà taught us about the constellations. You spent the night pointing them out and telling me the different mythologies behind them.”

Kai smiled, turning onto her back and turning her eyes to the skies, “Being out here reminds me of that.”

It reminded John of that as well. Violet lifted her head from his shoulder to peer up at the stars as well, her soft smile illuminated in the glow of the lights on the deck. She stood, taking the blanket with her, and crossed the deck to where Kai laid in the grass.

“I want to see,” she said, spreading her blanket out on the lawn beside the blonde, “Show me.”

John watched her lay beside Kai, touching her head gently against hers to see from the same perspective as she followed Kai’s upward point. Kai pointed out a series of stars, launching into an ancient tale of wolves and hunters. Violet listened, bringing her own hand up in question as she pointed out the stars. Kai took her hand and adjusted her position as she continued on with the myth.

He stood, crossing the deck to the two women. Violet smiled as he lowered himself onto the blanket beside him, turning over to rest her head on his chest as she listened to Kai point out the next constellation and tell the attached myth. John listened as well, watching the stars blink into existence among the aurora that illuminated the skies. Violet tucked her head into his neck, the knit of her hat soft against his cheek. He reached up to gently adjust her hat on her forehead, pushing it up out of her eyes. She looked up at him with that warmth in the green and John found himself unable to bring his eyes back to the brilliance above him. He just brought his forehead to hers, listening to Kai’s tale of two lovers and their shared eternity in the heavens.

Chapter 24: Night Swim

Chapter Text

John didn’t remember at what point he gave up on trying to sleep in the twin bed he had been assigned to. He set up camp on the floor at some point during the night, finding that Vannak did the same when he returned to the room they were sharing some time after John and Violet had retired from the lawn for bed. He had considered joining Kai in the yard as he laid on the bedroom floor, eyes fixed on the ceiling. John had spent his entire life sleeping in uncomfortable positions in uncomfortable places. He had taken Mendez’s advice to sleep when he could from his training and applied it throughout his combat experience without issue. Yet, he found himself longing for the comforts of their bedroom; unable to sleep without her body pressed against his and the sounds of her even breathing filling the room. Vannak slipped in well past midnight far more flushed than John would have anticipated the man to be after a simple walk. He didn’t point out that Vannak’s shirt had been on backwards when he returned either, despite the theories Cortana had filled his head with as he tried to sleep.

Early morning light and birdsong flooded through the windows as John stirred, sitting up to note the early hour on the bedside chrono. He had grown used to Violet’s sleeping in during his leave. He needed to reacquaint himself with his typical routine, he thought, pulling himself up. The house was silent around him as he crossed to the door, finding that Vannak was absent from the room already. John assumed that he had gotten up as well, making down the short hallway to the kitchen.

He found that he wasn’t alone in the kitchen. Jane stood with her back to him at the counter, scooping coffee grounds into the machine. She hummed a tune he didn’t recognize softly as she worked. She seemed even smaller as she stood there alone in her pajamas, John realizing that it was the first time he had seen the woman dressed down. Jane had always been impeccably dressed with hair done in the times he had spent with Violet’s family, face painted and not a single thread out of place. She seemed less stiff where she stood in her navy blue pajamas with bare feet and hair bed-fussed. The floorboards creaked under his weight and she gasped, jumping slightly before turning to face him. She clapped a hand over her chest with a sigh.

“Goodness, you startled me,” she said, smiling up at him. She didn’t have on the red lipstick John had come to associate with the woman. She looked just like Violet. “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep okay?”

She gestured to the empty kitchen chairs before turning back to the coffee machine. John slid into one of the wooden chairs, “Yes, ma’am. I apologize for startling you.”

She waved a dismissive hand as she filled the glass pot from the tap, “Oh, I’m just not used to anyone being awake this early is all. Usually I’m the only one up for hours. It’s nice to be in the company of other early birds for once. The rest of the house won’t be up at moving for another few hours, I’m afraid. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that, though. You do know my daughter.”

John smiled slightly, sure that the botanist in the bedroom beside his own was still asleep. He could hear the dozen alarms she had set to wake up for the morning’s hike ring through the walls as she snoozed each one.

“Riz and Vannak beat you to the punch, I’m afraid. They left about twenty minutes ago to go on a walk,” Jane said, pulling two chipped coffee mugs from a cabinet, “Can I get you coffee, sweetheart? How do you take it?”

“Black is fine, ma’am.”

Jane filled the mugs from the pot and set one in front of him, squeezing his shoulder approvingly with a ringed hand before slipping into the seat across from him. “Good boy,” she chuckled, “The right way. I never understood my girls and all of their flavors and syrups. If I wanted a milkshake, that’s what I would order. That’s not coffee. It’s not supposed to be a treat, it’s fuel.”

John chuckled and nodded slightly, “Yes, ma’am.”

Jane smiled before sipping from her own mug. John drank from his own quietly, enjoying the company of the older woman. She reminded him of Halsey in a way. Her stern severeness felt familiar. Jane brought her mug back to the counter, tapping the band of her wedding ring against the smooth stone, “What has you up so early?”

“Habit, ma’am.”

Jane smiled at him again, her nose crinkling in the same way Violet’s did. He wondered if Violet would look like her mother as she got older. He wondered if he would get the chance to know.

“Me too,” she said, “I’ve been retired for five years and still haven’t shaken my old routine. I’m awake most mornings before five; my body just wakes me up like I still have to be at the school by seven. I’m sure you understand exactly what I mean.”

“I do, ma’am.”

“Katie inherited that from me,” she said, sipping from her mug again.

“But Violet drags ass out of bed just like her father. It’s like waking the dead, the two of them. She’s always been that way,” she chuckled and took another drink before continuing, “When she was in middle school she attended the school I worked at. We would walk together every morning. Katie always got up on her own for school; she would already be getting ready when I would go in to wake her up. But Violet? Oy vey , it was like pulling teeth with that girl. I would have to go back into her room at least four times to wake her back up. Eventually, I would give up and start shouting up the stairs before I would hear her door slam and the shower turn on.”

Jane chuckled as she told the story, and John couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his face as she told it. He wanted to ask her for more of them. It filled him with a strange warmth as he listened, his chest feeling too full. He wanted to know everything he could. He wondered what stories his parents would have told Violet about him if things had been different. Instead, he sat and listened. Jane turned her focus back to him, “Please tell me she’s not that bad now?”

John smirked, recalling all of the mornings he would find her still asleep well past ten. At least now she only turned off her alarm only once before dragging herself out of bed. “She’s getting better.”

“Oh, good,” Jane laughed, leaning back in the chair, “I’m glad to hear it. At least she’s picking up something from you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jane smiled warmly at him again, “Just call me Jane, sweetheart.”

“Yes ma’-,” he stopped himself, “Jane.”

Jane put her hand on top of his. John took a moment to stare down at her small hand atop of his own before she gave it a squeeze. “I’ve always wanted a son,” she told him, smiling back at him with Violet’s smile, “I’m so glad she picked me out such a good one.”

Son. He had heard that word leave his father’s mouth in his fractured memories. He couldn’t recall a time in which he had been called that word since in a way that hadn’t been coated in condescending tones. It felt natural as it left her mouth; warm and genuine and loving. He nodded in reply, unsure of how to respond. Jane stood up, giving his shoulder another squeeze before she left the table.

“Let me see if she’s awake. I can hear her alarm making that racket,” she called over her shoulder. She stepped down the hallway to Violet’s room, muttering, “I don’t get her and how she sleeps with all that damn noise.”

She turned the knob without knocking and stepped into the bedroom. Violet let out a surprised gasp from inside, met only by Jane’s own.

“Violet Renee, that better not be another tattoo!” Jane gasped out, leaving the door open as she rushed into the room.

“Jesus, Mom! I’m changing! Get out!” Violet cried.

“Good morning, Mrs. Harris!”

“Good morning, Kai,” Jane’s voice was warm as she greeted Kai, but returned to the same authoritative tone as she returned her focus to her daughter, “Oh, just look at your back! I don’t understand why you keep doing that to yourself! You have such a beautiful body!”

“Oh my god! Mom, that’s so weird! Get out!”

Kai’s laughter echoed from the bedroom and filled the house. Katie’s door flung open, her voice echoing down the hallway as she shouted at her sister to shut up. He couldn’t help the laugh that barked from him as he sipped at his coffee, watching the sun throw pale light over the horizon from the kitchen window.

Violet’s idea of a hike was far different from John’s expectations, and the rest of the team’s as well. He didn’t dare to complain as loudly as Vannak did as she led them through the trodden paths that stemmed from the lake, determined to keep the wide smile that had stretched her cheeks since they left the kiva on her face as long as he could.

She seemed more relaxed since they arrived, a contentment washing over her as they wandered through the woods that he didn’t see back in New Alexandria. She ran her hands along each plant and the bark of each tree she passed, as if she could absorb each step with the brush of her fingertips. Vannak had taken to groaning loudly as Violet pointed out each plant, excitedly explaining their origins and biological species. John didn’t say a thing, only listened as she spoke quickly and happily in the same way she did in her greenhouses. He would never say a thing; he’d never risk removing that peaceful look from her face. f*ck, he’d build her a kiva on the lake himself if it meant that look in her eyes would never fade away.

Violet led the team’s brisk walk through the woods, the tight braid she had pulled her hair into swaying with each step she took. Kai’s hair was woven into an identical plait, having demanded that Violet braid her hair the same way when the botanist had stepped out of the bathroom that morning. They had taken to tucking wildflowers into the weave of each other’s hair as they walked, bright blues and yellows dotting the brown and blonde. Violet walked alongside Kai, their joined hands swinging between them as they talked. Sadie ran ahead of them, barking happily at the birds that passed from one tree to the next.

“Oh, I have another one,” he heard Violet say to Kai. Violet swung her leg over a fallen tree, Kai stepping over it, “What’s one vegetable you should never bring on a boat?”

“What?”

“A leek.”

Kai barked out a laugh, Violet’s musical giggle joining her. John stepped over the tree, listening to the two women exchange jokes as they walked. Vannak trailed behind her and Kai, Riz beside him as they continued the upward climb Violet led them on.

“Did you bring us out here for your sorry comedy hour,” Vannak called, “or are you actually leading us somewhere, Harris?”

Violet looked over her shoulder, shooting Vannak a look of faux annoyance before turning back to the woods, “We’re nearly to the viewpoint. What? All those walks you’re taking have you too tired to hike, Van?”

Vannak chuckled, “This little walk in the woods isn’t even close to a hike, Harris.”

Riz looked to John, the two exchanging an eye roll as the two launched into bickering that hadn’t seemed to cease since the drive to the lake. Vannak turned to where John walked beside Riz, “Remember the first time they dropped our asses out in the woods?”

Riz nodded beside him, curls bouncing around her shoulders, “I remember. Whoever made it back to the ship got to go home. John wouldn’t let us leave anyone behind.”

“Was that the same exercise where they planted men in the woods to try and catch us?” Kai called over her shoulder.

John nodded, the memory of that first exercise flooding back into his memory. Violet came to a stop ahead of him as she listened, looking back at them with a horrified expression as Kai and Vannak launched into the details of how they had neutralized the men before returning to the ship. He watched the disconcerted expression flicker away as the two passed, Riz laughing and nodding along with the story as Vannak and Kai interrupted one another to inject details that the other forgot. Violet smiled up at him as he approached, holding out her hand to him. He whistled, calling Sadie back to his side as his fingers looped into hers. She lifted herself onto her toes to press her lips to his jaw before starting her determined trudge through the brush again, her hand gripped in his as they followed behind the three.

Violet’s hike led them to a viewpoint above the lake, that Violet smile never leaving her face as they stared out upon the ocean of crimson and sienna foliage that surrounded the glistening waters. She insisted that they all take a picture, the four of them crowding around Violet and crouching down to accommodate her height as they all fit into the frame of her pad. Kai had lifted Sadie into her arms after insisting she be a part of the picture, cradling the dog in her arms as she smiled. Violet smiled down at the image, zooming in on each of their faces as she and Kai looked it over. John’s eyes were fixed upon her in the image, lips turned up in a half smile as he gazed down at her, his team grinning out from behind them and Sadie’s tongue lolling out of her mouth.

They arrived back at the kiva shortly before dinner, the tense interactions between her family and the team gone as they sat and ate. Jane busied herself with forcing more food onto each of their plates and scolding Kai she fed Sadie under the table. Elliot tracked Riz’s every move once they returned, following her from the dinner table down to the firepit, watching curiously as John and Vannak built a fire in the stone structure. They all sat around the fire, watching the sun disappear on the horizon as they talked. Bill told the same four stories John had heard the man tell a dozen times, finding that his daughters jumped in to fill in details as he spoke, still laughing at every punchline like it was the first time. Violet settled into the chair beside him, his hand on her leg as she listened. She’d grip his fingers every so often, flashing him that bright smile.

Elliot sat in Riz’s lap, her blanket pulled up over his shoulder as he leaned against her with heavy eyes. The boy brought his own books out of the house when he saw Riz with hers, arms full as he trudged across the grass to the fire pit. He sat himself in the empty chair beside her, his book open and upside down as he copied the redhead’s motions, glancing up at her occasionally to see if she was watching. Elliot had clambered up into her lap the moment she closed her book, holding out his book to her in wordless question. Riz gently read to the boy as he leaned against her, the fire casting shadows across his sleepy face. Violet’s head rested on his shoulder as she listened to Riz read. Katie leaned into her own chair with eyes closed, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she listened. Bill and Jane had wandered back to the house some time ago to handle dinner dishes, leaving the mismatched group around the fire.

An owl hooted from within the woods, the sound echoing across the smooth waters of the lake. Vannak looked up at the sound, turning to Riz, “That’s an eastern screech. They were in that documentary I showed you last week.”

“I heard it,” Riz said, returning her focus to the picture book.

“That’s not an eastern screech,” Violet stated, her eyes closed, “It’s a burrowing owl.”

“You’re wrong, Harris. Listen again.”

Violet lifted her head from his shoulder and John fought back a sigh, “No, I’m not. The call has a little wheeze at the end; that’s a burrowing owl. I’m right on this.

Vannak barked out a laugh, “The f*ck you are.”

“Yes I am!” Violet laughed. She sat up in her chair, leaning forward to face Vannak from across the firepit, “You’re wrong on this!

“Your Mrs. 117 clout bears no weight here, Harris. Save that for the base. I’m right.”

“My dad is a f*cking ornithologist! You’re seriously going to sit there and tell me I’m wrong? Whatever, dude. Grow up.”

“That doesn’t make you a f*cking ornithologist! I need to grow up?” Vannak's voice trembled as he held back a laugh. Violet let out a snorted giggle and covered her mouth, “I’m right!”

“You’re so not!”

Vannak barked out a laugh, throwing back a retort at Violet that she met with one of her own. Riz groaned in her seat as they erupted into their bickering again and pressed her hands over Elliot’s ears. Kai’s eyes darted between the two as they threw playful insults back and forth, an excited grin creeping across her face. Katie cleared her throat from the other side of the fire, bringing all eyes to her as she spoke.

“You’re both wrong,” she said calmly, “It’s a great horned.”

“f*ck off,” Violet laughed, tucking her head back against his shoulder, “No it’s not. You’re wrong.”

“I’m not. I’ll bet Dad backs me up if I call him out here.” Katie didn’t pull her attention from the flames to look up at her sister’s baffled stare. She swirled the contents of her glass casually, sharing a roll of the eyes with Riz.

“How much are we betting?” Vannak interjects.

“One hundred credits says I’m right and you two dumbasses are wrong.”

“Van…” Riz warned, not looking up from the boy in her lap.

“Deal!”

“Vi…” John warned. He’d lost count of how much money has traded hands between the two since they arrived over their childish bets over card games, foot races that Violet always lost, dares, and a myriad of other things not worth gambling over. John had learned that there was little his botanist wouldn’t do if it was framed as a bet or a dare, much to Vannak’s amusem*nt and John’s dismay.

“Would you like me to transfer credits over to Doctor Harris’ account? If they keep up at this rate, she’ll be short on her rent next month. Might I point out that you live there part time? Time to start pulling your weight, big guy.”

John bit back a sigh as he watched Violet’s eyes brighten at the challenge.

“Deal!”

“Yes.”

“Consider it done.”

Katie cleared her throat and straightened up to shout across the grass to the open kitchen window, “Dad!”

“That’s what they call me!”

“What kind of owl is this?”

Bill poked his head out of the window, face scrunching in concentration as he listened to the low hooting.

“That’s a great horned,” he called back, Violet and Vannak groaning loudly, “Beautiful bird. We had a few of them back at the zoo.”

Katie raised her wine glass triumphantly as Vannak and Violet jeered, initiating transfers on their pads. Katie accepted the transfers and stood, Andy following suit as he rose carefully to not disturb the sleeping baby in his arms.

“And with that,” she announced, “I will be headed to bed two hundred credits richer. Goodnight, losers.”

The two grumbled out their good nights before leaning back into their chairs with tails tucked, mumbling about the biases of the deciding vote. Katie bent down to collect Elliot from Riz’s lap, who gently pried the boy from her chest to pass him back to his mother. Elliot clung to her shirt, making a sleepy noise of disapproval as Katie attempted to peel him off. Riz brought her hand to his little fists, gently detaching him from her with a soft kiss to his curls. Katie smiled softly at Riz as she brought the toddler to her hip, following her husband back towards the deck lights. The five sat in silence, eyes fixed on the flames as they listened to the wood pop and crack in the pit.

“Hundred credits says you won’t go jump in the lake,” Vannak said, turning to Violet with raised brow. She made a face back at him, eyes darting towards the smooth waters beyond the dock.

“No way,” she laughed.

“Can you two give it a rest?” John groaned.

“I need to make my money back somehow,” Vannak argued, turning his focus back to Violet who silently deliberated, “Besides, I doubt the Princess of FLEETCOM will do it. I’ll bet it’s too cold for our Mrs. 117.”

His quips were the only motivation she needed as she rose from the chair, kicking off her boots as she peeled off her jacket. She tossed the bundle of fleece into his lap, John’s brows furrowing as he watched her set off across the grass. She yanked her shirt off, tossing it behind her as she jogged towards the dock, leaving a trail of clothing behind her on her determined path to the dock. Riz chuckled and rested her head against Vannak’s shoulder, curls loose from their usual braids and falling across her face as she watched the botanist approach the dock. John’s eyes lingered on the redhead. He hadn’t seen her hair down since they were kids.

“I like her,” Riz murmured, meeting his eyes.

“Me too,” Kai agreed, “She’s fun.”

“She’s alright,” Vannak said plainly, earning a chuckle from John. The corner of his mouth tugged up at the sound, “Don’t f*ck it up again, Chief.”

He had no intention to. He only nodded, watching Violet peel off her socks with a smirk. She stepped to the edge of the dock, dressed in only her underwear as she turned back to face them. She raised her arms in a showy fashion, Kai wolf whistling at her, and made a vulgar gesture to Vannak with a wide smile. The man barked out a laugh and returned it, earning another bright giggle from Violet. John shook his head as she shivered slightly, wiggling with anticipation before she dove off of the dock into the inky waters. She resurfaced with a splash, shrieking out as she slicked her wet hair out of her eyes.

“Holy f*cking f*ck!” she shouted, Kai erupting into laughter, “That’s f*cking cold.”

She swam back towards the dock with a few shivered noises. Riz shook her head as they watched. Kai rose with a smile and peeled off her pullover, “That looks like fun.”

“Kai,” John protested halfheartedly, watching as Kai began to remove her own clothing and run towards the dock. She took a running leap into the water beside Violet, the brunette letting out a surprised gasp as cold water splashed her face. Kai turned as she tread water to where the remaining three sat, waving them on, “Come on!”

Vannak chuckled and rose from his seat, holding a hand out to Riz, “You coming?”

“Fat chance,” she laughed, tucking her feet under her, “I’m not going in there.”

“Oh, come on,” Vannak urged, “You really going to let Harris show you up? Live a little, Riz. We’re on vacation, aren’t we?”

Riz looked up at him, fighting the smile that cracked her stoic expression. She slapped her hand into his and allowed Vannak to pull her up. They crossed the lawn together, tugging off their own layers. Violet and Kai whooped from the lake as they approached, Vannak launching himself past the both of them with a splash. Riz leapt in behind him in an elegant dive, resurfacing between the two giggling women.

“John!” Violet shouted, “Come on!”

“The average temperature of that lake in September is roughly 57.6℉, or 14.2℃. Water temperatures will get colder as exterior temperatures drop as well. I would recommend that they all get out of the lake immediately.”

John groaned as Violet called his name again and pulled himself up. He followed the trail of clothing to the dock, their laughter growing louder with each step he took. Violet wrapped her arms around Kai’s neck and pulled herself up onto the blonde’s back. She rested her chin atop Kai’s head, smiling that Violet smile as he stepped onto the dock, old wood groaning under each step. He stepped to the edge, staring down at his team and his botanist as they treaded water below him.

“Are you coming?” Violet asked, tilting her head to press a cheek to Kai’s drenched hair with a hopeful grin.

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on, babe,” she laughed, “Don’t be a buzzkill. Get in!”

“Yeah, babe ,” Vannak called, John hoping the glare he shot the man cut through the dark. John brought his hand to the cold water, sending a splash towards Vannak. He laughed, holding up his hands to block the spray, “Get your ass in here, Chief.”

The four erupted into a chorus of goading, all calling him into the cold waters. Kai led them all in a chant of ‘Chief’ that grew louder and louder, punctuated every so often with laughter. John stood on the dock and stared down at them, all shouting for him to join them. He shook his head and found Violet’s eyes. She wrapped her arms around Kai’s shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug, Kai leaning back into the embrace with a smile. Violet smiled up at him and John found that the warmth that was Violet Harris touched his life beyond just himself as she swam alongside of his team. Her warmth radiated through all of them, all touched by the goodness that she was in the days they had spent together. He hadn’t heard any of them laugh more than they had since arriving to the kiva, nor smile as widely as they did. They had all relaxed in the same way he did in her presence.

John looked over them all again; Riz’s hair sticking to her shoulders as she swam towards Violet and Kai, the serious expression he had always known from her gone to her smile. Vannak wrapped an arm around Violet’s waist and pulled her off of Kai’s back into the water, laughing loudly at the sharp yelp that puffed from her before she slipped under the water. Kai turned herself over, dipping under the water and resurfacing beside Violet. She shook her hair out, water flinging onto Violet. John didn’t see his team as he watched them all; he only saw the kids he grew up with. His sisters. His brother. He only saw his family as they all laughed with the woman he loved, who smiled at him like he was worthy of the brightness that shone from her.

John pulled his eyes from hers, muttering out a string of curses as he unzipped his jacket. They all cheered as he undressed, Vannak whistling loudly. Violet laughed, smiling brightly at him from Kai’s shoulders. He shook his head as he kicked off his pants and took a few steps back on the dock.

“I really must recommend against this, Chief. It’s far too cold to-.”

“I’m on vacation with my family, Cortana,” he said, feeling that familiar creeping down his neck that only came when Cortana was pleased, “Let them have their fun.”

John took a running leap off of the dock, cold enveloping him as he sunk into the waters beyond where the four swam. He resurfaced with a shiver, his jump met with a chorus of cheers. Violet swam to where he surfaced with a few short strokes, smiling that bright smile that warmed him even in the icy waters. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his. He rested his hands on her hips as her lips moved against his. She pulled away with a smile, touching her forehead to his.

“I love you,” she murmured.

God, he’d never get tired of hearing that.

“I love you too, goose.” She smiled again, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Okay, who knows how to chicken fight?” Violet called, pushing off him towards where the rest of the team swam.

“That sounds like a losing bet against Violet each time,” Vannak laughed, following after her with a few easy strokes, “Easy money.”

“f*ck you, Vannak! It’s on! John, come here!”

Chapter 25: Gúta: Bonus Chapter

Chapter Text

John had forgotten how much darker it was in the mountains compared to the city. Inky black had settled into everything around, the only light that of the deck lights and the silvery glow of the moons across the water. He hadn’t had much issue navigating the darkness when he had slipped out the back door to creep along the back of the kiva. The chrono had read well past midnight when he slipped out of the room. Vannak hadn’t returned to their shared room since his walk with Riz, the twosome excusing themselves after they all had retreated from the icy temperatures of the lake in search of hot showers and dry clothing.

John had been unable to push the sight of Violet emerging from the water from his mind as he laid on the bedroom floor. She had slipped from the water after he did, wet skin glistening in the moonlight and nipples pebbled under the wet fabric of her bra, the thin lace clinging to her. He had tried to shake it from his thoughts and force himself to sleep, but yearning ached in his bones instead as he tried to relax under the extra blankets Violet had retrieved them all from the linen closet. He had given up, throwing the heavy blankets from himself with a huff before quickly dressing and setting off into the still quiet of the house. He couldn’t risk knocking on her bedroom door and waking up her family or waking up her companions that shared the room with her.

He had chosen to slip out into the brisk night air to her window, hoping he’d find her awake and craving him in the same way he did her. He felt pathetic; they had been together only nights before, but he couldn’t escape the longing that had settled into him knowing she was only a wall away. He peered into the window, finding Violet asleep in the bed she shared with Kai, her hair tumbling over her face like spilled ink. Riz’s bedroll remained empty and untouched. John raised a hand to tap on the glass, flexing his fingers as he thought better of it. He could wake Kai, he thought, and he would never live it down if he did. Yet, the wanting outweighed the fear of embarrassment as he brought his fingers to the glass in a sharp rap.

Violet startled awake as John tapped at the window pane of her bedroom. He watched from outside as she lifted her head from the pillow, squinting around in the dark. He tapped the glass again, Violet’s eyes falling on the window. Confusion flashed across her still half-asleep face before her smile replaced it at the sight of him. Kai’s arm was draped over her, Violet sitting up carefully to avoid waking her.

“What are you doing?” She mouthed, brow quirked.

He gestured for her to come to the window. Violet tilted her head in question, John repeating the summoning motion and pointing to the lock on the inside of the window. She nodded in understanding, rising from the bed and carefully untangling herself from Kai’s arms. She slid out of the bed, tugging on her hiking boots and seized a blanket from the foot of the bed.

Violet crossed the room to unlatch the window, sliding it open slowly so as to not disturb the sleeping blonde. John pushed the window the rest of the way up and watched Violet slip out of the window with the precision of someone who had performed the motion before. He gave her a knowing look as her feet hit the grass below, Violet sliding the window shut behind her.

“Done that before?” He whispered.

“Maybe once or twice,” she smirked, “I learned everything I know from Katie. Don’t let her fool you; she was a terrible influence growing up.”

John chuckled as she turned to face him. Violet threw her blanket around her shoulders with a shiver and stepped out of view of the window with a wondering look up at him.

“Jesus, it’s so cold out here,” she whispered, pulling the blanket tightly around her, “What is it?”

His lips crashed against hers in response. John backed her against the cool concrete of the wall, leaning over her as Violet’s hands pressing against his chest, her lips moving against his. His teeth found her lip, dragging against the delicate flesh, a soft moan rumbling in her throat. The sweet sound had nearly been his undoing, John fighting the need to take her against that wall as he skin prickled with need. He sucked in a breath and rested his clenched fist against the wall just above her head.

“Feel up for a walk?” He rasped out.

She peered up at him from under her lashes, her teeth dragging over her lower lip as she nodded up at him. John held his hand out for hers and she slipped her fingers into his. He led her across the lawn to the woods that bordered the property silently, Violet stepping carefully behind him. She watched her feet as they walked, carefully not to trip over the low brush and twisting roots.

He stopped once they reached the thicket of trees that blocked them from view, John still able to locate the glow of the deck lights from between the thick branches. Violet’s hands found the zipper of his pants, tugging at his waistband as her lips found his again. There was nothing but hunger in the way she kissed him, her body pressing against his as she worked to undo his zipper. John’s own hands found the drawstring of her sweats. He undid the neat bow she had fastened the tie into, his lips not leaving hers as he yanked them down her hips.

“I’m leaving my sweatshirt on,” she mumbled against his lips, “It’s f*cking cold.”

He chuckled, “Fine by me, goose.”

Her hands slid into his pants, pulling them to his thighs with a few sharp tugs. Her hand wrapped around him with a soft tug, the sensation of her fingers dragging against his sensitive flesh enough to elicit a throaty moan. His whole body reacted to her touch, hips bucking into her hand in a request for more. He couldn’t contain his need any longer as she touched him, her breathy sighs unraveling any bit of control he clung to. His hands slipped to her waist as he hoisted her off the ground. Violet let out a soft gasp as her back met the tree behind her, wrapping her legs around his waist in invitation. John chuckled as he brushed against her, the warm slickness he was met with proving that she needed him as much as he did her.

Violet’s head fell back against the tree and a moan ripped from her throat; loud and punctuated with curses as he entered her swiftly. John smirked as the sound bounced off the trees and took a cautious glance back at the darkened home.

“Quiet, goose,” he whispered, chuckling as she clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Sorry,” she whispered, gasping out loudly as he thrust into her again, “Oh! f*ck, John! Sorry, sorry.”

Violet cried out again as he rocked his hips into her, eyes fluttering shut. The sound echoed through the dark and John lifted a hand from her thigh to press it over her mouth. Violet’s hand found his wrist and gripped it tightly. He could feel the whisper of her shuddered breaths and quick exhales against his skin as he quickened his pace, her nails biting into his back.

“Look at me,” he groaned, Violet tightening around him.

Her eyes snapped open at the demand, heated green boring into his own from over his hand. John swallowed his own moan and tightened his grip on her thigh, fingers pressing into the delicate flesh.

The crack of snapping wood pulled him from her, John pulling his lips from her neck at the sound. A low, animalistic grunt followed. They couldn’t have been far enough in the woods for wildlife, he thought. He had been sure not to bring her out that far. His motions slowed as he listened, glancing around in the dark for the source of the noise. The woods fell silent again save for the sounds of her exhales.

John turned his attention back to Violet, the unlocatable sounds forgotten as he rutted himself into her again. She whimpered against his palm, her tongue dragging against the rough skin. The sound went forgotten as he regained his pace, the vulgar, rhythmic sound of his hips slamming against her cutting through the dark. Violet’s breaths grew quick as she clenched around him, hands grasping at his back. He recognized her panted breaths and smirked at the desperate way she lifted her hips off of the tree to meet his own.

Whispered voices pulled him from her again, John’s head snapping up.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, scanning the dark brush surrounding them. He removed his hand from her lips.

“No,” she gasped out. She brought her hands to his face, turning his lips back to hers. He pressed a quick kiss to her bottom lip before scanning their surroundings again. He had the sense that they weren’t alone.

“I heard voices,” he said, straining to hear if the whispers would return.

Violet groaned in protest, hands finding his face again. She brought her lips to his neck, her tongue grazing his skin. He continued to scan, considering how far she would have to run from their current location back to the house. Her lips continued to move against his neck, “Baby, focus. It’s the woods; it’s probably just a raccoon or something.”

“That sounded too big to be a raccoon,” he replied, hissing out a breath when her hand wrapped around him and began those agonizing strokes.

“We’re fine. We’re not that far out,” she assured him.

John allowed her to guide him back to her, still alert as his lips crashed against hers again. Violet sighed into his mouth as she sunk back down onto him. John’s lips trailed from her lips to her jaw, his teeth grazing her earlobe before he returned to her neck.

Another moan ripped through the dark, this time louder and closer. Violet’s legs unhooked from his waist as he dropped her, turning to put himself between her and the source of the noise.

“I heard that,” she whispered, eyes wide as she glanced around in the dark, “What was that?”

“Quiet, goose,” he whispered, yanking up his pants, hands finding the sidearm he had holstered before waking her up. Violet’s eyes popped at the sight of it.

“You brought a gun out to have sex with me?” She hissed, brows knitted in disapproval.

“I brought a gun into the woods at night, Vi,” he retorted, “Quiet.”

Another grunt pierced through the silence, Violet tensing behind him. Her voice was a fearful whisper as she repeated, “What was that?”

His immediate thought was gúta. He knew his sidearm wouldn’t do much against the massive creatures except slow them down enough for him to get Violet to safety, and royally piss one off. He’s seen the tusked bipeds take multiple high caliber rounds before going down. He kicked himself for pulling her out into the woods in the first place. It had been stupid; impulsive even. Certainly he could have lasted another few days without pulling her out into the dark for a quick f*ck.

“Put your pants on,” he ordered. Violet nodded and yanked up her sweatpants, watching him nervously. “Stay behind me. If I say run, you run. Understood?”

“John-.”

“Do you understand, Violet?”

She nodded quickly, his eyes falling to his sidearm as he turned in the direction of the noise. He waved her on as he stepped carefully through the brush, the grunting continuing. Her fingers knotted in the back of his shirt nervously as she followed his steps, avoiding making unnecessary noise as she followed behind him. John found the source of the noise, eyes following on a tree that swayed in rhythm with the grunts. Whatever it was, he assumed it was large. Strong. He should have sent her back to the house, he thought. What the hell was he thinking dragging her after him?

“The sounds do not match any I am able to find when looking at animals native to this forest,” Cortana said, “They best match human sounds.”

“What is it?” she whispered.

He raised a hand and Violet fell silent behind him. He racked his sidearm, a series of shuffles and startled gasps following the sharp noise as it echoed through the trees. John sensed, preparing for whatever would come out of the trees, and took a defensive step in front of Violet. Her grip on his shirt tightened as she looked out from behind him.

He switched on the mounted light, hoping to see whatever it was before it saw him. The bright beam illuminated a flash of red curls and dark skin, Violet letting out a surprised gasp. John lowered his weapon, dropping his eyes at the sight of Vannak behind Riz, his hands gripping her hips, Riz’s hands pressed against the tree trunk. Riz let out a gasp of her own, both Spartans avoiding John’s eye as they scrambled to find their clothes.

“Chief,” Vannak greeted him stiffly, tossing Riz a blanket that she quickly wrapped around herself.

“Vannak,” he replied, “Riz.”

The three stared at each other in silence, John unsure of exactly how to approach the situation unfolding in front of them.

“So that’s where they have been off to,” Cortana smirked.

Violet hit his back in a series of excited slaps, bouncing on her toes with a repeated whisper of, “Oh my god, I knew it. Oh my god, I knew it.”

Violet’s laughter broke the silence, a flicker of a smile raising Riz’s lips. John felt Violet’s hand slip into his, giving it a gentle tug back towards the way they came. She put a hand on his arm, jerking her head east towards the water in a silent recommendation. John nodded in response, his eyes not pulling away from the wide eyed stares of Riz and Vannak as they watched Violet lead him away.

Violet offered the two a cheeky smile, “We’ll move farther down. Enjoy your ‘walk’, you two.”