Belatedly, I realize I shouldn't tease him. He lost five turns while I was in the other world, and I'm not aging like I did.

"A little?" I try.

"Let's see who's old." He rolls me under him, and that's the last coherent thought I have for a while.

Eventually, I end up on top.

"Yes," he growls, as I sink down.

I want this to last, but because it's been so long, it can't. Like a summer's day, it burns bright and hot, showering me in ephemeral heat. I move on him faster and forget to consider his pleasure. But March enjoys it when I take charge, when I use him to take what I need, because it gives him the freedom to be passive. I peak first, squeezing my eyes shut when the tremors hit. He arches up with a cry, thighs tense.

Afterward, he trembles beneath me, all lazy satiation. My muscles lax, I collapse in his arms and relish the stroke of his rough fingers on my spine.

"I'd like to kiss you all over," I say, dragging my nails down his chest. "But we don't have time."

"That seems to be a theme with us."

"Someday," I promise.

"I'll hold you to that."

I take a quick, two-minute shower to wash the sex smell off, then March follows suit. As I open the wardrobe, I notice he's left all my clothes here, like we're living together...something we've never really done. For the first time, I let myself imagine it. Not on the ground, of course, but on a ship-a master suite with a big bed and plenty of storage, something sleek and fast that lets us see the universe together.

This isn't the time to make plans, however. The war still has a long way to go. I can't think about the future until I keep my promise to Loras.

"Do you think he'll know what we've been doing?" I ask.

"Of course."

Oh, Mary. "Will he say anything?"

March grins. "Probably. Do you care?"

After considering it, I say, "Not so much."

When I arrive in the mess, there are few people here. March follows me, scanning for Sasha, then he spots him. The kid brightens a little and raises his hand to beckon us over. He's already eating.

"I figured you two wouldn't come out for a day. I owe Zeeka ten credits."

I glance at March to see how he's taking this. But he's smiling. "That'll teach you not to bet on a sure thing. I wouldn't make dinner plans, then break them."

Changing the subject, I ask them, "So is it weird to be the only humans here?"

"You'd know," Sasha points out.

I think about my own question. "Sometimes. And other times I forget...until somebody reminds me."

"That's about how it is here," March puts in.

Sasha nods. "The La'hengrin don't look that much different than us."

"High metabolism and adaptive physiology," I offer.

"Does that mean it's impossible for the La'hengrin to get fat?" Sasha wonders.

Now that he's brought it up, I can't recall seeing any who are, but so many live in abject poverty, where there's not enough food, there's no way to evaluate at a glance. So I shrug, not wanting to think about their plight right now.

"I'll get the food," I say to March. "What do you want?"

He gives his order, and I head to the kitchen-mate to input our orders; once it produces the meals, I take the plates to the table. As I'm serving, Vel and Zeeka come in. I beckon them over. Soon, all the guys from the squad arrive, and our table's packed.

Xirol sits down next to Sasha. "When are they gonna spring you, kid?"

"You should talk to my dad. Explain all the reasons I'm needed."

March tenses.

"You'd be useful," Loras says quietly.

Which won't go over well, as he's in charge, and March knows that. So does Sasha, who says, "Does this mean you'll take me with you this time?"

"So what's everybody having?" I cut in.

Vel takes the cue and describes his meal, but I know he intends for the La'hengrin to recoil and rib him about how disgusting his food is. The tense moment passes. I bob my head in thanks, and he offers a discreet wa, just a fold over his plate with elbows tucked.

Though an argument's been averted for now, it's not the end of the issue. The tension will get worse.

CHAPTER 25.

I'm in the fitness room the next day when Sasha corners me. From the kid's expression, he means business. He wants to talk about the subject that March shut down last night. But I'm not sure why he's trying to drag me into it. Maybe he thinks I have some influence over his parental unit?

Sorry, kid. Not that much.

But I smile in greeting as he climbs on the machine next to me. I've already done fifty reps, but I keep going slowly, so he can bridge the subject and get it out of the way. To my surprise, he works for a little while before glancing at me.

"Do you think I'm too young to help?"

Yeah, this is a potential minefield. In fact, I don't. I feel like once kids are old enough to have opinions, they should be allowed to have them. But I'm not his guardian. I can't give permission for him to sign on with the LLA in any capacity.

I also refuse to lie because that would be easier for March.

"No."

"Help me convince him," Sasha says. "I talked to Loras. He's got an idea for a Special Forces unit. There are a few La'hengrin like my dad and me. They can do stuff, too, and Loras thinks it makes sense to put us in a squad together because we could handle missions no other team can."

"It's not a game. People die. I'm not sure if you get that...and I'm positive that's the doubt your dad has. He doesn't think you understand the reality...and he wants a better future for you, one that doesn't involve killing people."

Sasha puffs out a breath, driving the machine with his frustration. "So he's putting his baggage on me? How is that fair?"

"Life's not fair, kid." I want to smack my head against the wall as soon as the words come out of my mouth. I've officially become an old person.

"I'm going nuts here. I feel useless, like I kept us here for nothing. I know what it's like out there, I could help, and nobody will let me. Plus...I'm lonely. The only person who talks to me these days is an AI."

I'm sure that's not true; what he means is, he's feeling neglected because his uncle is often busy, and he wants to fight. Being thirteen, he's prone to exaggeration.

Before I can reply, he goes on, "But I guess none of that matters because I'm not old enough to be taken seriously." He slams out of the room without looking back.

"It's not my call," I say aloud, but Sasha is gone.

With a heavy heart, I decide to broach the subject to March. He may not want to talk about it, but ignoring the subject isn't going to make it better. Sasha will only get angrier, cooped up at the base as his hormones kick in. It sounds like March hasn't been spending the time with Sasha that he used to, or Sasha wouldn't have made the crack about Constance. Whatever's going on, I'll end up in the middle of it. It seems like I always do, regardless of my intentions.

With a faint sigh, I shower, then go in search of March. When I locate him, he's closeted with Loras, going over the information Tarn and Leviter have sent back to base. Obviously, March is working on strategy and deployment while he's here. He might even be helping Constance coordinate individual maneuvers in the field. I can't back up enough to see the big picture, but I'm sure it's diabolical and effective. This must be what March is doing while Sasha feels worthless. Lessons with an AI, then practice with a power you're never permitted to use must feel pretty pointless. March is so focused on the kid's physical safety that he's not thinking about his mental and emotional health.

Mary, I don't want to have this conversation.

As I step into the room, Loras looks up with a smile. "Ah, Jax. We're almost finished here. I collect you're here to take March away?"

I laugh at that. "I don't own him, so that's his choice. But if you're at a stopping point, I could use a word."

"Farah's commed me twice anyway. She wants to talk about..." At my skeptical expression, he flushes. "Oh, never mind."

"Right. She wants to talk."

March seems puzzled, but he doesn't ask. Instead, he falls into step with me as I leave the briefing room. "What's up?"

"It'd be faster if you just look." There's the number one perk of a Psi lover.

Frowning, he complies, and within a minute, he's glaring at me. "This isn't your concern, Jax."

"Sasha made it my business," I say, folding my arms. "If you don't stop coddling him, you'll lose him. He's not a baby anymore."

"He's thirteen."

"How old were you when you killed your first man?"

He turns, running a hand through his dark hair. "I don't want him to turn out like me."

"From where I'm standing, that's not a bad thing." I put my hand on his shoulders, feeling his tension. "This war will go on a long time. I know you don't want to hear it, but he'll be grown by the time it ends, most likely. And if you pen him up without regard for how he feels, he's going to run like hell when he gets free. You might never see him again."

"The idea is ridiculous," he snarls. "He's a child."

"Not as much as you want him to be."

He levels a gaze on me that's all icy amber light. "Do me a favor, Jax. Stay out of my business."

Hurt spikes through me. "I thought you were my business."

"Sasha isn't. You walked away from any right to interfere where he's concerned. I understood why. But you don't get to step in now and make a big, fragging, Jax-style mess out of a kid I've done a decent job with."

That's what he thinks? I wish I could argue, but history shows otherwise, so I can't even say he's wrong. I never seem to make anything better without screwing it up first. It's my MO, and I'm doing it again right now.

"Then why are you with me?" I ask. "Why do you wait for someone like me? Especially when you already made it clear you think I'm selfish for wanting my own life."

"I can't leave, can I?"

Shock pushes me back a step, away from him. "I didn't make you wait five turns for me. You could've moved on. And you wouldn't be stuck here."

"Jax..." He seems to realize belatedly how much he's hurt me. "I waited because I love you."

There's a prickle in my mind, like sharing headspace will make it better. Instead, it just shows him how bad I'm wounded. But he can't wipe these feelings away-and even if he can, I don't want him to. So I bring my walls up and force him out. I learned to do that during the Morgut War, when we were partners in the cockpit, but nowhere else. The force of it drives the color from his cheeks; I've never done that before.

I take another step backward. "Bullshit. You waited because you like being a martyr. But you know what? I've done some bad, fragged-up things in my life. And I'm sorry for them. But I do not believe I deserve to be unhappy. I refuse to be with someone who's using me like a hair coat."

"It's not like that," he says.

"Really? You act like you're the only one who's been lonely. I'm waiting, too."

"Yeah," he snaps. "I'm sure you are...with Vel around."

"You're jealous of him?"

"He put his mark on you, Jax. Of course I hate it...but then, I'm a primitive male. Obviously, I don't get your 'special connection' that transcends sex." Anger radiates from him. "You know how that makes me feel? Like you get all your emotional needs met somewhere else, and you just come to me for a good, hard-"

"Seriously?" My jaw drops. "You've been inside my head repeatedly. You know that isn't true."

"All I know is that you love someone who isn't me. You'll go anywhere with him...but you never stay with me."

I shake my head. "It's more accurate to say he'll go anywhere with me. So maybe you're jealous of that...because you can't right now."

"While we're clearing the air, Jax, what about the colors Vel wears? Tell me that's nothing to do with you. I looked up that symbol, and it means 'grimspace' in Ithtorian. So while you were with him-and I was waiting-you gave him some kind of commitment? That's more than I ever got from you. I just hear bullshit about how Kai said desire means more than promises."

Okay, maybe I screwed up. I should have said something to him, but when? As I was leaving Nicuan, or during one of the vid messages? By the way, March, I gave Vel my colors. It doesn't mean we're married. I love you, bye!

"You said you accept me...that you get me. You let me think you understood. Now you're telling me that was all a lie?"

His shoulders slump. "I thought I'd lose you if I told the truth."

"You'd only lose me if you forced a choice...because love shouldn't be like that." I sigh softly. "And I have a feeling you're only bringing it up now because you don't want to talk about Sasha."

"I don't," he says miserably.