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Paladin Danse had never wanted for much. Up until just a few months ago, there was nothing but the Brotherhood of Steel in his heart. He lived and breathed for the Brotherhood, he cared for little else besides duty. He was content with that, he didn’t work for praise or caps. Loyalty and devotion to something greater than himself was enough for him. He would have been content with living his entire life with nothing but a metal cot and his rifle for a sense of pride, knowing that he was a part of the world’s greatest chance for the future was the greatest honor a Paladin could ask for.
But- then a woman named Bea came blazing into his life on completely random happenstance and since then she’d wedged herself between his armor and into his heart like a thorn.
Not that he minded of course. Danse had never felt.. anything for another person like the way he felt for Bea. It was new, it was exciting.. it gave him a sense of purpose from a personal standpoint. For the first time in his life, he didn’t mind a healthy distraction from duty. He welcomed it in fact. Bea helped him to realize he was not just a pawn, he was more than a nameless soldier part of a hive mind. He was a person. Bea’s progress was slow going but he was finally beginning to understand the concept of a personal life. Especially if that meant a life to be shared with her. Duty and devotion went hand in hand, there was room in his life for both his cause and someone he cared for.
The first time Bea had brought him to Sanctuary, Danse nearly jumped out of his skin. She’d spoken about all of her friends from her travels but actually seeing the sort of people she surrounded herself with was a shock, to say the least. Danse was still unable to let his guard down knowing that a super mutant freely walked around her settlement. No matter how many times Bea assured him that Strong was nothing to worry about, Danse was still a Brotherhood Paladin and it was out of pure respect to Bea that he didn’t call in for a Vertibird airstrike. She surrounded herself with all manner of people, people that Danse had been trained and conditioned to distrust. Though she swore up and down that everyone here was to be trusted, Danse knew well enough that sometimes Bea was not the best judge of character. How could she just put her trust in a chem-head ghoul? In a man who unabashedly explained he was a spy for synths?
Every time Danse watched Bea leave the settlement for a mission with one of her friends in tow, he worried that it may be the last time he saw her. She was capable of course, but being well versed with a weapon only went so far.
He remembered all too well of just a few days ago when Preston had asked him to monitor the settlement’s food supplies because things were beginning to go missing in excess. Danse had taken the request like an order and stationed himself by the storeroom all day until he caught Bea sneaking out of her house in the dead of night to rifle through the food storage. He watched her through the scope of his rifle cross the river on a wooden bridge to the edge of the settlement’s borders. He immediately assumed she found some beggars that weren’t ready to join Sanctuary, but- she of course blew all rational thought away by kneeling in the dirt and patting the ground until a molerat reared its ugly head. Bea jumped away from its teeth and cracked open a can she held. He watched her take a spoon and offer it to the rat right from her hand, Bea was of course hissed at and her hand shot back before it could bite her. She left the can open on the ground, seemingly giving up with the spoon. But she squatted close enough to touch it as the creature ate. The only thing that kept Danse from running to her side or pulling the trigger of his scoped rifle the worry that he might startle the thing into attacking. Bea was wearing her pajamas for crying out loud. After it finished the first can, Bea offered it a carrot, Danse watched astonished as the creature took it from her hand.
Bea was far too trusting for her own good and Danse was pretty sure she would one day be the death of him. Danse had no idea how this rad-storm of a woman had managed to worm her way into his heart, but she did.. and he wouldn’t have it any other way. No matter how her daily bouts with the face of death made him feel as if he was juggling molotovs amid a swarm of angry bloatflies.
With the construction of the interceptor to get into the Institute underway, Danse had been in Sanctuary for a little over three weeks while the Minutemen worked. Though Bea still took her position within the Brotherhood with all the seriousness someone like her could muster, her people came first. Bea told Elder Maxson that if there was to be peace between their factions she wanted the relay done on her home turf. Danse surprised himself by how quickly he came to her defense, explaining that he’d be overseeing the operation personally and he intended to report in daily by radio frequency. He hadn’t been expecting the Elder to deny his request, but he also wasn’t sure what to make of the Elder approving without much of a fight. Danse was too good of a soldier to second guess the order. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t ready to go back to duty as usual on the Prydwen after spending so long in the field with Bea. He convinced himself that he acted with the Brotherhood’s best intentions in mind, it was pertinent that he continue his mission with her. His.. devotion to her and her cause was first and foremost for the Brotherhood and the good of the Commonwealth. His personal attachment came second and he had made peace with that. Though.. sometimes he wondered where his loyalties truly laid when he decided to leave exactly who and what occupied her settlement out of his field reports.
The settlement was more than friendly toward his arrival. Though he was sure Bea had attended personally to his welcome. Her right-hand man Preston gave him a few odd jobs to keep busy; asking for his expertise with Sanctuary’s defense turrets on the first day there. It felt good to be put to work, Danse liked to be part of a team. There was no such thing as idle hands in the settlement and because of that one went without anything.
Seeing this group of people living in peace, in actual comfort, not just surviving made Danse feel now more than ever that the Brotherhood’s goals were attainable in a real sense. The sense of community found in Sanctuary felt right . Fighting mutants and ghouls and cleansing the Commonwealth was well worth the sacrifice if it meant that good people took the freedom offered and made places like this. Every brother and sister in arms that he’d ever lost in the field made a difference for the better, their deaths would mean something if it meant that people like Bea could build communities like this.
With all the struggle in the recent years within the Brotherhood, Danse was sure that Bea was the key component to their victory. She was the person the wasteland needed to put all the pieces together. He saw it in the way people looked at her, in the way she spoke to people with actual care in her voice. Perhaps it was unfair to put that burden on a single woman, but he knew he’d be at her side and would follow her into any hell she dragged him to.
Bea left Sanctuary early that morning to make a quick trip to a nearby ruin just to scav some materials, they needed a few odds and ends around the settlement. Screws and plastic mostly. Danse offered to come with her but she already had her mercenary in tow before he could get his boots on. Bea promised him it was just a two-person job.
Speaking of the devil, Danse looked up from his work on his power armor. He pushed up the visor to his welding mask once hearing footsteps approaching from behind. He felt fingers brush against the back of his neck, he turned with a smile-
A smile that died as soon as he took in the sight before him.
Bea’s orange Brotherhood uniform was completely singed, her side was exposed and some tatters of the uniform hung from the ripped fabric comically. From what he could see of her midsection, her skin was as tinged pink with an obvious burn. One of her pant legs seemed to have been cut off with a knife and the entirety of her thigh was bandaged. Danse’s eyes trailed up until he found her face, she was covered in ash and soot, and... absolutely grinning. Danse felt the air from his lungs leave him as he choked on his words.
Bea giggled, running a finger through her hair. “Not a fan of my new look? Aw sugarbear, I thought I’d get a haircut and surprise you!”
Bea’s bangs had been completely burnt off, one of her eyebrows was missing as well. She looked ridiculous, but she was grinning with a laugh in her voice and a hand on her hip as if he truly meant what she said. Danse would usually find amusement in her pet names but right now he was miles away from laughing.
“You said you were just going scavving.”
“We were! Bobby and I were going scavving, but y’know how things go.” Bea wiped a palm over her face in an attempt to clear some of the soot.
“Strangely, I do know how things go with you.” Danse sighed, he’d been a fool to have assumed her early morning mission that was barely explained to him would be a simple errand. Things were never simple with her. She brought Maccready with her for god’s sake. Of course she wasn’t just going scavenging. Danse wondered if she’d deliberately kept her true intentions secret from him, but the thought died at its conception. He knew her too well to think she’d deliberately lie or hold something from him, not to mention that she was a terrible liar. It was more likely that she happened upon something that caught her attention and off she went careening into danger without another thought.
Bea giggled, not taking any of his worries to heart. She offered a hand to Danse who still knelt on the floor with a blowtorch in hand. “I’m alright! Might need a new uniform.. Do you think I can requisition another one?”
Danse took her hand, once standing he placed both hands on her shoulders to hold her still while he got a good look at her. The burns he could see were light pink, they most likely wouldn’t blister and with care they’d be gone in a few days. He pulled her burnt suit away from her side just a bit to see if they went any further than the singed material. Thankfully the burn was only about a palm’s width in area, light pink with no raised skin.
Bea batted his hands away with a snort, “Don’t worry! I’m fine, Bobby’s got some real wasteland survival know-how, spat some sorta mucky junk on my leg, and wrapped me up nice and good.” She gestured to her bandaged leg before continuing. “Tell me hon, you ever heard of the Forged?”
Bea launched into a story about today’s adventure, Danse listened though all he heard was about ten other instances where she could have died. But one thing that stuck out from her story was how often Maccready’s name came up. Bobby this- Bobby that.. Bobby took out a raider from a hundred yards away and he fell right into a vat of molten metal which caused a wave of it to crash down onto the raiders below him. It was soo awesome. Bobby kicked a gas can into the flames of a burning trash pit that then exploded like a grenade to douse more raiders in a horrific display of fireworks.
Danse had never been the jealous type, but this.. situation he found himself in with Bea was still new to him. He walked silently to Bea’s wildly constructed shanty house, sometimes listening in to her story. Danse bit his lip, finding himself lost in thought. He was unsure what to think of the merc, he typically associated anyone who killed for caps with the rest of the wasteland’s lowlife scum. People like him were no better than raiders, people like him were responsible for Bea’s lost family and the frozen body up in the vault that Bea went to visit sometimes. But- Bea seemed to have nothing but good to say about the man. She gave him a great big squealing hug when he brought her an issue of Manta-Man the other day. Danse himself had been keeping an eye out for more comics; he loved the way her face lit up when she found one. But the sniper beat him to it..
It wasn’t anything to be exceedingly grateful for. Gifts should be useful, they should be practical . An extra few rounds of fusion cells or a scavenged fusion core would more likely keep Bea alive than a comic book. MacCready had nothing to be proud of with his find, it’s simply easier to look for things when you had a full range of movement without power armor.
Danse wrinkled his nose, he stole Bea’s hand with the sudden need to be close to her while they walked. She took his hand without a second thought, weaving her fingers in his. Danse’s attention to her story left as she explained that part of her injuries from today was due to MacCready’s stunt with a fire extinguisher after Bea accidentally caught fire. The extinguisher was hot enough to basically come out as steam. Danse darkly imagined giving the merc a hard whack upside the head for endangering her. He completely missed Bea chipperly explaining that while looking for some sort of plant for a burn remedy her foot sunk right into a rad-scorpion’s hole. Danse would have been distraught to hear of her all too close call with the scorpions, but he was barely listening.
Danse responded to her story with a few grunted huffs or noises, responding when Bea’s tone lilted up in question or when he felt like it had been a while since he’d last said something. A sour look raised on his features as he pondered Bea’d apparent infatuation with her friend. The sniper was lithe where he was broad, MacCready was quiet in combat while Danse’s power armor alerted every enemy within a hundred-foot radius to their location. They both were good with a rifle.. but he was trained as a soldier, he had discipline and he fought with pride knowing that his standing with Brotherhood came with a sense of honor, he was proud to be on the good side of things. MacCready had no such discipline, he didn’t have a lick of loyalty or honor.. Bea often joked that she had to convince the man with caps to accompany her.
But.. from the way she talked about him, Bea was nearly gushing as she recalled to Danse about some joke MacCready had said. A completely unfunny joke.
Out of everyone in her little inner circle, Danse wondered the most about the merc’s intentions.. Was payment simply the end of his loyalty? What would happen when someone with larger pockets came along? Danse remembered Bea’s not so secret adventure the other night with the mole-rat. He remembered how she didn’t run when the thing hissed at her, she kept at it until she had the thing eating out of her hand. Danse wondered if she saw MacCready as just another hungry wasteland creature in need of someone to care for it. Unbeknownst to her, her rat unfortunately skittered too close to the settlement border the night after he caught her feeding it. Sanctuary’s defense turrets made quick work of the creature. Danse found its body on his morning patrol and he kicked what was left of it into the river so Bea wouldn’t see what her actions resulted in. The rat had come undoubtedly looking for the source of the food Bea gave it, and it died because she was trying to be nice to something that had no way of understanding her kindness.
That’s what happens when you try to care for a rabid mongrel from the wasteland. It gets greedy.
“-Danse?”
“Uhuh..” He held the door to her home open for her in a gentlemanly fashion. Simply responding to her the tone of her voice, not her actual question.
“Something on your mind honeybun?”
“No.”
“Wow, and you call me a bad liar.” Bea entered the house with a mock curtsey. She went to her sink and wet a rag to clean off the soot from her face. She started to work on undoing her boots.
Danse sat on a couch, watching her absent-mindedly. She was sooty and with a few pink burns here and there, but thankfully besides some cosmetic changes, she seemed mostly unharmed. He turned his attention to the side table while Bea bent over to unlace her boots, it didn’t feel right to stare at a woman undressing. Even if he was well acquainted with her body. Concern for her momentarily spoke louder than the need to protect her modesty, he stole a glance at her wrapped thigh. He wondered what her wound was like, she walked fine enough so he concluded that it must not be terrible. Danse wondered just what she meant by ‘mucky junk’ . He envisioned the sniper cutting away her pant leg like a brute, rubbing a salve into her skin while she cooed and thanked him for making her feel better- Danse’s cheeks burned and he forced his attention to the side table next to the couch.
The side table contained a few papers from here and there, blueprints from Sturges, some technical documents she’d found for Proctor Quinlan.. And MacCready’s comic book. What was so great about this thing anyway? Comic books were for children . He opened the cover to see a scrawled handwritten note on the inside cover, Danse had to squint to make out the lettering. The penmanship was awful, it was that of a child’s.
‘Thanks for all the help with those gunners boss. I owe you one. -Mac’
Danse shut the cover with an audible huff.
Bea opened a dresser drawer to find some fresh clothes, “Alright, you’ve totally got your panties in a bunch.” Bea changed quickly before climbing over the back of the couch to sit down. She was clad only in a tank top and her underwear, most of the soot was cleaned from her body. Bea sat cross-legged on the cushion, her knee resting atop his thigh. She poked him in the side when he didn’t immediately speak.
“C’mon.. What’s got your goat? Somebody spit on your sweet roll?” She teased, leaning forward to brush her lips against his cheek. Taking his attitude like some sort of game.
“It’s nothing.”
“Mmhm.. nothing’s exactly the reason you’re all huffy.” Bea sat back, she rested a hand on his bicep, her playful tone subsiding. “I’m sorry if I worried you, I ran into a farmer who needed our help. Those Forged guys took his boy and tried to make a raider out of him. Y’know me and kids. I wasn’t going to tell them no.”
The explanation was as honest as ever, Danse was well aware that she did have a soft spot for families.. Which was all the more reason her recent closeness with MacCready made no sense. Danse put an arm over the couch. Bea took the movement as an invitation to snuggle up to his side, not paying his saltiness any mind.
Danse’s demeanor immediately softened, it didn’t take much from her to warm him up. He sighed, “You’ve been spending a lot of time with your mercenary. I worry about where his loyalties are.”
Bea giggled, she wrapped an arm around Danse’s chest in a reassuring hug. She’d always been touchy, even before he finally found the nerve to kiss her. “You’re jealous?” She seemed all too giddy, something that made Danse want to remove himself from her grip and pout in a corner. He felt ridiculous. Jealousy was the furthest thing from the truth. He wasn’t jealous. Not one bit.
“You so are!” She poked him in the ribs, not hard enough to hurt but she centered in right on a spot that made him wiggle away from her touch.
“My concern is professional. I can’t have people like Him jeopardizing our mission.” Danse emphasized the word ‘our’, needing her to know that he was talking about the Brotherhood and the Minutemen’s alliance. That he was talking to Brotherhood Knight Beatrice Carver and not Bea in her underwear who was currently resting her chin on his shoulder and grinning like a cat that ate the canary.
“We’re far from professionalism honeybun,” Bea reached a hand into his hair as if to emphasize her point.
Danse tried to continue his ruse, he tried to pretend that he was unaffected by the woman he loved with her teasing words and gentle attention. He swallowed hard, trying his damndest to ignore the slow trail of her other hand as it slid down his chest. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears.
“Sometimes I need someone a little more.. covert is all. I can’t have you clanging and clamoring around everywhere. Every now and then I need a little subterfuge.”
“I can be subtle,” Danse spoke bitterly, the words left him without thought. He regretted speaking as soon as he heard the tone of his voice. He sounded like a petulant child. Subtlety was overrated. You didn’t need to be subtle when you were thoroughly protected by the best engineering the wasteland had to offer. Though.. Bea was one to talk, he’d never seen her do much of anything with an ounce of subtlety.
“Yeah? You can be subtle too? Says the man who definitely isn’t jealous.” Bea’s hands left him in favor of climbing onto his lap, she moved with surprising grace. She could manage sexiness sometimes, though she still had burnt bangs that were too close to her forehead and sticking up at odd angles as well as a missing eyebrow.
Danse looked up at her with a funny expression, it was as if he was doing everything he could to keep up his sourness. Bea only saw the expression as a challenge.
“He’s a real sweetiepie don’t get me wrong,” Bea laughed as Danse visibly stiffened with his sour look only worsening. She caught his chin with her knuckle, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “But you’re my sweetiepie, there’s a difference.”
The way she effortlessly explained her feelings had his heart feeling fluttery and warm. She nearly always had some sort of little affectionate term for him, but she’d never spoken with that tone of possessiveness before. He didn’t know how badly he could want something like that until she just then introduced him to the feeling. They hadn’t exactly.. spoken about the situation between them. They didn’t need to, not when it was just the two of them against the world. But now, with Danse finally in Sanctuary ‘ meeting the family ’, as she put it, he felt the need to put a definition on things.
“And you’re mine also?” He spoke tentatively.
“All yours.” Her tone was the most serious that Danse had ever heard from her. He set his hands on her hips, leaning in to kiss her. Bea dodged his face with a giggle, she apparently wasn’t done talking.
“I’ve liked you ever since you did that funny little thing at ArcJet.”
“What thing?”
Bea laughed, she mimicked juggling something with her hands. “That little thing you do with your helmet. Like you’re trying to show off.”
“You’d known me for two weeks.”
Bea rolled her eyes, “You saying I’m easy? That’s not something to tell a lady!” She put a hand to her forehead in mock offense.
“I’m saying you’re ridiculous.” Danse was smiling now, his earlier worry melted from him easily.
“I’m well aware, I think that’s why you like me.”
He’d never met anyone like Bea before, he understood why so many people looked up to her. It was hard not to fall in love a little bit. She was the mythical woman out of time determined to save the wasteland from itself as the story went. But Danse knew her more than that, he knew her to be someone with a soft spot for kids and proclivity for gumdrops.. Someone who was a little too soft for the wasteland with her insistence to feed molerats and make friends with everyone who crossed her path. Robots, ghouls, mercs, and synths had a place with her and though it pained Danse to acknowledge, he understood.
Bea saw the good in everyone. It was simply ridiculous, but.. after spending time in her little home, he began to realize that the Brotherhood for all he believed in it, was going at things in the wrong way. Cracks formed in his unfathomable loyalty the more time he spent around Bea. They rose, and they grew.. The first time he noticed them begin to form the first time she stepped aboard the Prydwen and asked Maxson to his face what his goals were. She didn’t want to hear Brotherhood’s doctrines and sayings, she didn’t want a headline. She didn’t care for their history or shiny toys. She asked Maxson as a person, wanting to know what his intentions were. She asked if Maxson wanted to help people.
Danse was pretty sure that was the moment he realized just how unprofessional his feelings toward Bea were. Her complete disregard for authority should have upset him, but.. Bea was a spitfire and he loved that about her.
Now sitting with Bea in his lap, for the first time in his life, he understood what it was like to truly care about something. Not just for honor or duty, not because of blind loyalty. Not because of what he was told to believe in. Loyalty should not be blind. Loyalty should be earned. With all that he’d given the Brotherhood, he never felt as if his fight mattered in the grand scheme of things. If he died, someone would take his place. He was one in thousands and it was enough for him to know that he could at least be of some service to something greater than himself. But now, he understood what it was like to believe in something on a personal level. He knew that his place at her side was exactly where he needed to be. He felt as if being here with her meant that he’d finally feel some sense of fulfillment, that with her help to his cause she’d make his life worth something.
The way she would willingly throw herself into danger for the sake of others used to drive him crazy. He had far too many dents in his armor from the countless bullets he shielded her from. She’d devote herself to people she didn’t even know just because she felt it was right to do so. Until meeting her, Danse carried out his assignments because he was told to. Feelings were unnecessary for the glory of the Brotherhood. As long as he believed in the cause, he was doing everything he could for the organization. He was a soldier through and through, he didn’t have the right to question authority. Missions were missions, orders were orders.
The Brotherhood promised safety for the Commonwealth, but Maxson’s words were iron and cold. He promised salvation through submission, he wanted it so badly he would fight tooth and nail until he had the world under his thumb. He commanded an army because he felt the world was broken enough that he had no choice but to level the field until he could build it up again. Bea commanded an army (ragtag as it was) because she wanted to pick all the broken pieces of the world up from the dirt, bandage them and blow a kiss their way. She didn’t ask for submission. She didn’t ask for anything. Her assurance for her people was warm and caring, she was just as determined as Maxson to see the world saved, but unlike the Elder she would personally attend to whatever she could. No matter how small, no matter how seemingly insignificant the task, it didn’t matter to if it meant that she could help someone. She’d personally wipe out an entire camp of gunners to save a mercenary from his past, a man who killed for caps. A man who in turn found her a comic book and brought it to her as a way of thanks. A man backed her and stayed by her side as she jumped into danger to save a farmer’s son. Danse was sure that no matter what the farmers paid, it wouldnt be enough for a someone like MacCready. There was no way any usual mercenary would put up with Bea and her selflessness. Perhaps Bea wasn’t entirely wrong to see him as she did.
There was no grand scheme for her, she managed to spend less than a year cleaning up the world as best she could and people came to her aid because of who was, not what she was. All of her showboating ridiculousness came from the type of honesty that Danse had previously thought to be nonexistent. She helped people. She fixed people. She saw good in people because she was determined to dig deep enough until she found it. She helped him find a sense of humanity that he didn’t know he had.
Danse looked up at Bea, noticing how she still smelled like fire. She took the initiative to pull him into a kiss so soft it made his heart melt. For all the kindness she gave to people, Danse was immensely proud that she seemed to have a special place for him in her heart. It was a bit much to think about. He felt like a complete sap. He’d never seen anyone call melted hair and a missing eyebrow a haircut before but here she was pretending as if she’d meant for the change in style all along.
After spending so long wrapped up in his thoughts, words tumbled out from him before he could stop them.
“I love you.” His words were whispered.
Bea tilted her head, a shy smile on her lips. One Danse hadn’t seen before. He’d never known her to be shy about anything . He still got flustered when remembering the first time she kissed him in a crowded tent.
“Where’d that come from Mr. Grumpy? Ten minutes ago you had your panties wadded up so far in your butt that I worried I would have to find a monkey wrench.”
Before he could answer, her lips were on his with a forceful crash. Danse’s fingers found placement in her hair, he recoiled a bit once finding some parts of it to be crunchy. Bea laughed against his lips once feeling his retreat.
“It’s not the best haircut I’ve ever gotten. You’ve been telling me since you got me into the uniform that I’d need a buzz. What d’ya think? Full bald like Deacon?” Bea laughed at her own joke. “Would you still think I’m pretty?”
He knew she meant nothing from her words, Danse would have thought she was beautiful if she for some reason came back to him one day bright green like a glowing feral ghoul. He could tell from the way Bea was tumbling out words quicker than he could listen that she was putting on a show. Danse was a bit worried about his admission. But he knew her tells, he could gather enough insight to know that her chatter wasn’t from a place of nervousness or rejection. Though he was unsure what exactly was the cause of the stream of nonsense from her. He rested his hands on her thighs, staying quiet as to allow her to get out whatever word vomit she needed to.
Finally, Bea took a deep breath. She looked at him curiously for a moment, her fingers working anxiously against the fabric of his jumpsuit. Danse felt as if time had slowed- had he messed up? Was he reading into things too much?
His worries were silenced as Bea stole his lips in a quick kiss. She pulled away just as suddenly as she came, Danse noticed that her cheeks were bright red. This was the closest to flustered that he’d ever seen from her. She was more likely to smack his ass right in the middle of a crowd just to see him squirm rather than be blushing herself. He was more than enthralled by the color on her cheeks. Was this.. was she.. shy ?
“I love you too-” She sort of jumbled the words together, speaking quickly. Bea bit her lip, unable to meet his gaze, squirming awkwardly in his lap. Bea was many things but she wasn’t well versed with the concept of taking things seriously.
“I love you even though you’re a grumpy butt who’s totally jealous over being picked last for kickball” She added the last bit onto her admission as if finding the three words too difficult to say without a hint of a joke.
Danse smiled, he rested his forehead on hers. He let out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that.”
“What? That I picked you last for kickball?”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I know.” Bea snickered. “That’s why you like me.”