Work Text:
Eris found him lying spread-eagle on the floor of his workshop. She couldn't help the icy grip of fear that seized her heart; her mind instantaneously conjuring a series of horrible accidents that could have befallen him as he tinkered with any number of his dangerous and illicit contraptions. In spite of the fact she knew he still had his Light, and his Ghost would only be a quick summon away...
However, a loud growl of frustration that sounded from his direction quelled her momentary anxiety.
What has the fool gotten himself into now?
She stepped lightly until she was standing by his shoulders, leaning over the top of him. The Drifter had ditched his long coat and other accouterments for a simple gray t-shirt (covered in dark blotches she hoped were merely grease stains) that was sloppily tucked into his trousers. His hands and cheeks were smudged with grime. The man's eyes were shut tight, while his face contorted in a scowl that communicated both annoyance and strenuous thought. A groan escaped him, and she caught a brief glimpse of his gritted teeth.
Eris had no doubt that he sensed her presence. But since he seemed keen on remaining on the floor and doing nothing aside from breathing out the occasional guttural whine, she opted to speak first.
"Now then...What is all this about?" she asked matter-of-factly.
The Drifter didn’t respond and remained still for several long seconds, before finally lifting one arm up and draping it over his eyes.
“It ain’t workin’, Moondust,” he said. His already gruff voice was even heavier with dejection.
Eris’ brow furrowed as she narrowed all three of her eyes slightly. What did he mean - what wasn’t working? A weight settled in her stomach. Surely the “it” he spoke of wasn’t in reference to her and the...relationship they’d committed to. Was it?
She shook her head just a bit; fretting without true cause again. Better to get full clarity before jumping to such dire conclusions.
“I beg your pardon?” she questioned him again.
A disgruntled huff from the man, followed by another drawn-out groan as he suddenly sat upright. Eris no longer had a clear view of his face. She could see his posture slump, however, as he jerked his thumb back over his shoulder, gesturing towards the workbench that was along the wall behind them.
“No matter what I try...It. Won’t. Work,” he ground out.
Eris understood now what he was talking about. On the bench was – well, she assumed it was a mechanical device of some kind. Even with her own acumen in crafting weapons and a variety of complex devices (arcane or otherwise), it looked for all the world like a cobbled together piece of junk. Though if she had learned anything in her time with the Drifter, it was that the phrase “appearances can be deceiving” was always something to keep in mind when it came to him.
“I see.” Eris acknowledged the object as the source of his discontent. “What is it?” she then asked. That seemed the next logical thing to inquire about, plus she was genuinely curious. Undoubtedly the machine was designed with a specialized function in mind.
“The idea came to me outta the blue one day. Hit me like a ton of bricks while I was mindin’ my own business...Bam!” He drove his fist into the palm of his other hand for additional emphasis, then continued, “This little baby would make Gambit the hottest ticket in the Tower for sure...if only I could get the damn thing to come together right!”
While he hadn’t been particularly detailed in his explanation of the mechanism’s purpose, Eris could extrapolate enough to get the general idea as to why it was giving him such trouble. This was not unlike the technology the Drifter had invented for his Mote Banks. Devices which were the first of their kind - harnessing dark matter and paracausal energy in portable containment fields that allowed him to summon Taken entities at will. Not even Queen Mara Sov’s best Techeuns had accomplished such a feat.
That said, the Drifter being the only person who understood this technology had its drawbacks. Chiefly in how there was nothing and no one else that could give him assistance should things go awry. Eris recalled how he’d had a few narrow-misses because of this limitation, when they first started their work together on Titan and Io in the wake of the Black Fleet’s arrival to the Sol system. Still, he’d always managed to get things up running again. Cursing and complaining all the while, of course.
Maybe that was why the current situation had him so vexed. Eris knew full-well how maddening it could be to have the solution to a problem remain just beyond one’s reach.
“Have you found out whether the point of failure lies in the device’s operation, or the construction?” Eris probed further. By asking Drifter the appropriate leading questions, she hoped he might find some clarity through his obvious fog of frustration.
Unfortunately, her words seemed to have the opposite effect. “Goddamn if I know, Three-Eyes!” he groused loudly while throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. He then scooted himself around on the floor so that he was facing the workstation, and pointed at the contraption accusingly. “You so freakin’ smart, you figure it out! Even better why don’t ya just wave that magic Hive-ball of yours around, or whatever-the-hell it is you do, and tell me why it ain’t runnin’ like it’s supposed to?!”
Eris scrunched her nose at the rudeness of his outburst, taking a slow breath to maintain her composure. These days she was moved to be more patient with him than she might have been in the past.
“Divining broken machinery is not an ability I possess,” she said using a cool, detached tone of voice. “Either way, I do not appreciate you taking out your aggravation on me in such a manner–” Eris bit her tongue before she ended the statement with her now-infrequent moniker for him of “Rat”. Old habits, as they say. In truth she was hardly so annoyed with him that the nickname was warranted (at least not yet).
The Drifter turned his attention to her and scowled darkly. The fiery glint behind his pupils signaled he was raring for a fight. But suddenly he blinked hard a few times and looked down toward his lap, as he brought balled fists up to his eyes and rubbed them hard with his knuckles.
“Yeah...I hear ya. Got no right to be pissy at’cha. My bad, Moondust,” he sighed, letting his shoulders droop as he did.
A clumsily worded apology, perhaps. But when he lowered his hands and faced her again, he looked for all the world like the most contrite person to draw breath. Which was saying something, considering his usually unshakable bravado.
Upon closer inspection, Eris could see now that there were dark circles under his eyes; camouflaged by the smudges on his face. His beard was noticeably scruffier than normal. And while his hair was pushed out of his face by the bandanna wrapped around his head, it was matted and sticking up at odd angles in some places. It wasn’t hard to deduce that he’d buried his hands in it, tugging in frustration while he worked.
The Drifter’s thick brows were knitted together as he gazed up at her with soft, almost pleading eyes. His mouth was shut tight, but she could tell he was worrying the inside of his bottom lip with his teeth. The man’s whole countenance was one of resignation. Fully accepting of the prospect of getting an earful from her for his momentary show of disrespect. Her heart went out to him in that moment.
Admittedly Eris was still familiarizing herself with the reality that they were, in fact, together. It was all so new, frightening, and exciting at the same time. Yes, they continued to bicker incessantly about this-or-that - it was practically part of their normal routine, a game even. However, their newfound freedom to also express their mutual affection clipped the tips off of comments that would otherwise be felt as barbs.
She hiked up the folds of her skirt slightly so she could crouch down next to him, resting her knees on the floor and sitting back on her heels. This brought Eris about eye-level with him. She then reached up with her hand, slowly, and just barely brushed the tips of her fingers along the almost-bruised looking flesh under his eyelids.
He turned his head slightly away from her, but didn’t shy from her touch. His forehead wrinkled and the corners of his mouth turned down in a grimace. Drifter appeared even more ashamed than before. Clearly her choice to respond with tenderness was not at all what he’d expected, and he felt all the worse for it. Eris could sense the harsh emotions billowing from him - like a foul wind on a dry, hot summer day that does nothing to alleviate the stagnation in the air.
The Drifter was certainly punishing himself enough for his misstep. Eris couldn’t help but be relieved that she hadn’t been too quick to take offense and chastise him. No need to reiterate a lesson already learned.
“How long since you have had a proper rest, or food?” she asked.
“Heh. Dunno if anything I ever done could fall under the label of bein’ ‘proper’...” he deflected, letting out a single hoarse chuckle. He glanced her way and attempted a wry smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes in the slightest.
Eris took her hand back and rested it next to the other in her lap. She said nothing, and knew she didn’t need to to communicate she was waiting for a real answer.
He sighed heavily again. “Maybe a couple a’days…Maybe a week?” Drifter blinked blearily as he squinted his eyes, trying to organize his memory of how much time had passed. “When was it you were here last? We had dinner, ya spent the night, then you got-to-scootin’ while it was still early hours. Started on this right after.”
Eris could not restrain the small scoff that escaped her at his admission of carelessness. “That was well over a week ago,” she answered him. “I told you I had business for the Vanguard to attend to, and would not be able to return until today. This has consumed your every waking moment since my departure?”
“Well without you around to keep me on my toes I gotta do somethin’ to stay busy, sweetheart,” he replied, giving a slight shrug. There was no blame directed at her in his words, though. It was merely a statement of fact.
“What about your Gambit? You had no…players coming by to settle wagers and otherwise keep you occupied?” Eris had trouble believing the Drifter had also foregone his primary glimmer-earning venture the whole time she’d been away.
“Nah. I put a cork in it as soon as I dug into buildin’ that thing over there,” he answered. “Like I said, was supposed to make Gambit the hotspot of the entire Guardian underground. Thought a quick shutdown would be worth the small loss o’ moolah to get it done - what a crock that was.” He spat his final words with palpable regret.
“Even so, no project, no matter how potentially lucrative, should come at the cost of your physical and mental well-being,” Eris said. She tried her best to convey her concern for him through her tone, rather than criticism of his actions. “Light or no Light to fortify your constitution,” she added for good measure. Better to head-off any argument that being Risen was excuse enough for him to disregard his health.
A sly smirk started to form on his lips. Something about what she said appeared to have greatly amused the Drifter. “Now just hold your horses there, sister.” He quirked a brow at her as he spoke up. “Eris Morn, juggernaut of the Vanguard, Crota’s Bane and terrorizer of Hive Gods, the goddamn savior of the Last City several times over, is actually tellin’ me not to work myself to death?” It was a sarcastic inquiry through and through. “What was it I said to ya a while back? Oh yeah: pot, kettle, black.”
He seemed to be coming back to his usual self with that turnabout. His timbre was brighter, smug even, and he capped off his speech with a roguish wink.
Eris took the Drifter’s taunting in stride. “‘Juggernaut’, hm?” she hit back without missing a beat. “Your dictionary has made a comeback, I see.”
“Hah! You bet’cha!” He let out a coarse laugh, and his smile widened.
Eris breathed out of her nose and shook her head gently. His return to form was proving contagious, but she still had an important point she needed to make before giving in to their usual banter.
“All ‘foolin’ around’ aside,” she started, employing a known idiom of his to guarantee his attention, “I understand it is hypocritical of me to give such advice, but it was–” Eris’ voice faltered somewhat as her emotions came rushing back stronger than she anticipated, “–troubling, to say the least, to find you so indisposed that it appeared your Ghost may have needed to...intervene.”
She then cast her eyes down to her lap, as she intertwined her fingers and began to wring them together in an attempt to physically distract herself from her internal discomfort. It wasn’t like her to beat around the bush in such a way. Not at all. But for once in her many lives Eris didn’t seem to have the fortitude to speak plainly.
One of the Drifter’s oil-stained hands came into her field of vision, and he placed it over her own. The contact immediately quelled her fidgeting. His other hand appeared a second later and, using the crook of his forefinger, gently tilted her chin up so that she was looking him in the eyes once more.
“Hey now,” Drifter said softly, his tone losing some of the rough edge it usually carried. He was still smiling somewhat, but all traces of the raucous humor that had been bubbling to the surface moments ago had fled him. “That ain’t nothin’ for you to be worryin’ yourself over, Moondust. I been through helluva lot worse than just losing track of time and pitchin’-a-bitch over a busted gadget.”
He angled his head down and raised his eyebrows, clearly hoping his glib assessment of the situation would put her mind at ease. But Eris was certain she could still feel disquiet radiating off of him.
“Anyhow,” he continued, taking a long breath and withdrawing his hands from her, “least I’ll get the last laugh as I watch that heap go shooting out the airlock and into deep space where it belongs.”
The Drifter rocked himself up onto his feet at last. There was an audible cracking noise when he stretched his shoulders and back, a grunt escaping him as he did so. He then extended a hand to Eris to help her up as well. She accepted his offer, and when she stood before him she caught how he held her hand in his longer than necessary as he ran his thumb lightly over her knuckles.
Eris turned and looked at the much-cursed contraption in question before returning her gaze to him again, “So you intend to cast it aside. Even after all the time and effort you’ve invested in it thus far?”
“Well, yeah. Sometimes you just gotta cut your losses...Should’a known from the start I bit off more than I could chew with this.” The Drifter reached up and rubbed the back of his neck roughly as he spoke, deep creases forming on his brow as he frowned in contemplation. “All the math seemed to work out, but, maybe I just ain’t as clever as I thought.”
While there was wisdom in knowing when to step away from something beyond salvaging, that did not seem to be the case here. It was obvious that, for all his apparent frustration with the project at hand, the Drifter was still far from sure in his choice to abandon it. His discordant thoughts were clanging in the back of Eris’ mind like a broken chime in a windstorm.
“You need not disparage yourself,” Eris said, and she meant it. “While the exact cause of the device’s malfunction is proving elusive at the moment, that doesn’t mean it cannot be found and resolved after taking time to clear your head. Especially if your calculations are sound,” she advised him.
“Honey, even with my ol’ dictionary on hand, I dunno half of what you just said.” The Drifter shrugged once again. “Still, you think I don’t got a whole laundry list of failed prototypes? ‘Cause I do, and it’s a doozy. No-big-thang to add this one to it.”
He then grinned cheekily at her, though same as before, Eris could tell it was a hollow expression of nonchalance by how it didn’t touch his eyes.
She wished for a moment that he wouldn’t downplay his struggles to her, no matter how trivial...but the thought dissipated quickly. He meant no slight against her for it. Nor was it due to a lack of trust. It was simply in his nature to keep any perceived “weakness” under wraps - a long-ingrained survival reflex. Eris understood this intimately.
“Maybe so,” she replied, pausing for a moment before she pressed forward. “However, before now you did not have me to push you into exercising a little more perseverance.”
“Push? Hah!” This time the chuckle and crooked grin on his face was genuine. “More like dragging me along by my ear whether I like it or not.”
Eris allowed herself a small smirk. “Figures of speech aside, one cannot argue with the results. Though I would not hesitate to demonstrate the expression literally if doing so would further motivate you to apply yourself to the limits of your potential.”
“Alright, alright! Let’s not get any funny ideas here.” The Drifter raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, before moving them close to his ears protectively. “I know better than to go against the ol’ taskmaster,” he said. A touch of nervousness now showed in his grin.
Eris pursed her lips and sighed out of her nose, “Then again, such forceful actions are unnecessary when a simple reminder will do.” She tilted her head and continued, “For better or worse, you are every bit as clever as you often like to boast - when not overtired in mind and body, that is.”
She hesitated for the briefest second, then reached up with both hands and touched the tips of her fingers to Drifter's temples. His eyes darted back and forth in suspicion, yet he made no move to halt her.
“You aided Osiris in returning The Sundial to full functionality. Single-handedly developed technology that is the envy of the Cryptarchy and the bane of the Praxic Order. I have seen you repair Mote Banks while under fire from Taken Ogres...”
“Aw shucks, Moondust,” he interjected, clearing his throat as he did so, “you’re gonna make me blush if you keep goin’ on like that.”
He spoke too late, as there was color already present on his cheeks and at the tips of his ears.
“Then heed my words.” Eris moved her hands gently downward until her palms rested flat on his chest, and she felt a small tremor run through him at the contact. “Your fatigue is clouding your judgment. Take some rest, have a full meal. And afterward, perhaps we can examine the device together to determine the next course of action,” she offered. “If our combined efforts cannot discern why it is not working as intended, I will assist you in jettisoning the machine from The Derelict. Fair?”
A rumbling chuckle sounded from the Drifter as he moved his hands up to grasp the back of her arms and pull her a little closer to him. “After getting a pep-talk from my Moon Queen, no way I'm gonna quit on it. Looks like we’re back in business.”
Even though the expression was largely concealed behind her veil, Eris raised her brows at the lofty title he’d just bestowed upon her.
“Moon Queen?” she asked incredulously. After having fought alongside, and against, various Queens in her time, Eris could not see how she compared. “And a moment ago you implied I was, as the saying goes, ‘laying it on too thick’,” she asserted.
“No way! If anythin’, that wasn’t nearly thick enough,” he countered, as he drew her even nearer. “Queens got nothin’ on ya...My dark Goddess...My inspiration...” he crooned. His voice had taken on a velvety undertone that was full of longing.
Eris’ heart beat hard in her chest. Now it was her turn to blush. She hadn’t intended anything more than to offer support and encourage him to refresh his perspective of his own engineering prowess. The way the situation had morphed into some kind of amorous escapade was beyond her scope of experience. However she wasn’t about to protest if this was the way Drifter wished to show his appreciation for her efforts, as well as his acceptance of the truths she had spoken to him.
She slid her hands up to his shoulders as they leaned into each other simultaneously. Eris allowed her eyelids to droop and her lips to part slightly in anticipation of what he was about to do next–
Suddenly, her center of gravity shifted. All three of Eris’ eyes snapped back open as she found herself being lifted off her feet. The Drifter’s strong arms were wrapped tightly around her waist as he clutched her against his chest, and spun them both around in-place with great exuberance. His hoots of laughter reverberated against the walls of the workshop while her cloak flapped in the air behind her.
Eris quickly found her voice. “Let me down! Right now, you crazy man!” she called out sharply, her shock at his actions overriding the proverbial butterflies she’d felt in her stomach only moments prior.
“No-can-do, darlin’!” he called back in between more hearty laughs. “After that whole spiel ya just gave me, how could I possibly let you down now?”
Eris heard the lilt in his speech emphasizing the play on her own words. She wanted to come up with a witty retort, but the fact that he had yet to stop spinning them made it impossible for her to focus.
She had no choice but to cling to the Drifter for stability as he made a few more swift rotations. Thankfully she felt him begin to slow, and soon he ceased going in circles, easing into a gentle sway to-and-fro as he caught his breath, staring up at her with glittering eyes. His grip on her remained firm, with no indication he was about to set her back on her feet any time soon. Eris kept hold of his shoulders and tried to give him a scolding look, but the joy plastered all over his face wiped the scowl from her lips in an instant.
He ended their impromptu “dance” when he came to stand in the middle of the room, but still, he did not release her.
“The things I could’a done, way back when...if I only I’d had you with me, Moondust,” he said wistfully, as his countenance softened into something tinged with nostalgia.
“I must cast doubt on that sentiment,” Eris stated plainly. Though she had no desire to spoil his lighthearted fantasy, she would not withhold her honest opinion from him either. “In my early days as a Guardian, I was far more flighty than you know me to be. And from what I know of my life before that, I was even more intemperate,” she explained. “If anything, I would have bolstered your worst impulses rather than encouraged you to better yourself.”
The Drifter merely shook his head. “Don’t matter when, where, or which version of ya I got,” he said as he rested his chin on her breastplate, keeping his eyes fixed on her face. “Because it’d still be you. And you bein’ here is what makes all the difference.”
His words were clumsy yet again. Nevertheless, the earnestness of his declaration shone through in the reverent tone of his voice and the tender look on his face. Eris understood what he meant completely.
Her cheeks flushed once more, the feeling quickly spreading to fill her up with a delightful warmth from head to toe. Then, in a moment of blissful abandon, she leaned down toward him. He tipped his head up to meet hers without prompting, and Eris gently pressed her forehead against his (turning just enough to avoid putting pressure on her third eye) in a gesture of gratitude.
She closed her eyes and let the contentment she felt sink down into her weary soul. Eris didn’t have to rely on her extrasensory perception to know without a doubt the Drifter was experiencing the same serenity as she. In the stillness, it was easy to discern the steady rhythm of his heart from the other hums and pulses emitted by The Derelict. Sure enough, the beat of her own reflexively slowed to match him.
Nothing else needed to be spoken.
They stayed like that for a long moment, before his arms finally began to loosen around her, and she slowly descended to the floor. Time began to move again when Eris felt the solid metal plating under her boots.
The silence hung in the air. Neither she nor the Drifter were in a hurry to upset the tranquility that had settled over them like a comforting downy blanket. But life had to continue on, and a quick glance up and down his form reminded Eris that the man’s extremely haggard appearance remained unchanged.
“Come, let us see to getting you freshened up.” She reached down and took his wrist in-hand, making to lead him out of the workshop.
The Drifter let out a derisive snort, no doubt over her use of such a dainty-sounding phrase, but otherwise didn’t offer rebuttal as they made their way toward the door. Over her shoulder she could see him spare a dubious glance back at the machine that had caused him so much grief.
“We shall reconvene on your project later, together,” Eris reassured him once they reached the threshold, coaxing him forward with a light tug. “Trust,” she added with finality, hopeful her use of his favored catchword would inspire confidence.
“Woo-hah!” the Drifter exclaimed in a low rush of breath. His head and shoulders shook briefly in an exaggerated shiver of delight. “Can’t even begin to tell you how it makes me feel to hear ya say that...You sure as hell got my number, don't ya?”
“After all this time spent becoming accustomed to your eccentricities, I should certainly hope so,” Eris replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Guess I’ll have’ta start workin’ a bit harder on my poker face,” he said through a dry chuckle. “Though for the record, and just in case it slipped under your magic Hive-y radar–” Drifter pulled his arm backwards so that she had to turn and face him “–when I was holdin’ you in my arms, damn if I didn’t want to kiss ya somethin’ fierce.” There was a sultry purr in his voice, and he lifted his hand to run the pad of his thumb along the curve of her chin.
The boldness of both his confession and touch caught Eris completely off guard. She was at a loss for how to react as her heart rate picked up speed. He gazed at her with burning eyes, and so many conflicting emotions manifested inside her at once: elation, apprehension, desire, self-consciousness...All while she could sense the affection welling inside him - like a warm spring rain that forms a pond in a valley meadow.
She focused only on him, and the clarity of his feelings gave Eris the precious second of peace she needed to still her mind. She mentally shook herself, and remembered how growing close to the Drifter had also taught her a thing or two about playing these flirtatious little games. This latest move by him wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.
She took a calming breath before posing a question to him in response, “Then why did you not?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, with just a hint of coquettishness lingering beneath.
A soft laugh bubbled up from his throat as he smiled widely at her, “‘Cause I know how much of a stickler ya are about or-al hy-giene.” He spoke the last two words haltingly, as though they were of a foreign language. “And I obviously ain’t bushed my pearly whites since the last time you came ‘round,” he continued. “Figured you’d appreciate it if I waited until after I downed a bottle of mouthwash to, y’know, lay one on ya.”
Eris couldn’t help but grimace at his candid explanation. Of all the possible things he might have cited as a reason, it had to be her greatest pet-peeve. She could accept him having mussed hair or an unkempt beard. Even a grubby face, hands, and clothing. But this? Suffice to say it took considerable willpower to stop herself from launching into a lecture about the importance of proper dental care.
Drifter winked and flashed her one of his signature toothy grins to drive home his statement, and she made an effort not to look too closely as he did. Lest she see something that would sour both her stomach and the pleasant mood that lingered between them.
“That was...courteous of you, indeed,” she acquiesced, nodding stiffly and doing her best to conduct herself with aplomb. “Thank you.”
“See? I know how to handle your quirks too, hon.” He looked quite pleased with himself as he straightened up and inclined his head in a cloyingly polite gesture.
“Take note, once you’ve properly groomed yourself, I expect you to fulfill your pledge and make up for that missed opportunity before we begin working on your mechanism,” she said. It was a spur-of-the-moment, borderline playful request. Drifter was usually the one to make such advances, however Eris saw no harm in allowing herself to take a little initiative.
They’d only spoken of sharing a kiss up to that point. So she was also certain she had kept her tone free of any sort of salacious subtext. But when she finished her sentence the Drifter’s brows raised and his eyes widened in excitement, as if she’d just said something extremely forward.
“Oooh, now we’re talkin’...Drifter likes the sound of that!” he crowed as he bounced a few times on the balls of his feet, the way a fidgety adolescent might when talking to their crush for the first time.
She should have known better. Indeed, to overtly suggest that she wanted him to kiss her was a rather saucy thing for her to do. Especially when taking her typically demure nature into account. Therefore Eris couldn’t really argue that his reaction was wholly unwarranted.
She wasn’t about to admit this aloud, of course, so as a compromise she resisted the urge to chide him for his antics.
“I tell ya, I oughta hit a wall with my thingamajigs more often if it means you'll come swoopin’ in to pull me out of the rut,” Drifter carried on, offering her another impish grin.
He bent toward her with his elbow extended to give her a light nudge, but a swift twist of her shoulder kept her just out of his reach.
Eris crossed her arms over her chest and took on a firm stance. “You would do well not to take undue advantage of what’s been offered this day,” she warned him. “Otherwise you may find yourself without my counsel, my company, and my caresses entirely.”
The Drifter quirked his brows in an appraising manner. Then took two steps back and, with a flourish worthy of a theater’s stage, bowed gallantly to her. “Wouldn’t dream of it, beautiful lady! Just thinkin’ out loud, is all.” He tipped his head up enough so he could show off his most charming smile. “Point is, nothin’ beats a good ol’ fashioned pick-me-up. Trust.”
Eris scoffed as she observed his over-the-top display. She hadn’t missed the tease he directed at her in his final word either.
It was hard to believe she was going through all this fuss simply to get the man to step away from a project for a few hours and fulfill a few basic needs. Most days it was a trial-and-a-half to convince him that certain tasks needed to be done before opting to take a break...The irony of this role-reversal was not lost on her.
At least with the return of his good humor, the dark, heavy circles under the Dirfter’s eyes seemed to have become less intense. There was a satisfying lightness which filled Eris’ chest as well, one that came from knowing she could lift him out of his doldrums. The same as he had done for her so many times since they’d first fostered this unusual connection of theirs.
A connection which had somehow, against all the odds, transformed into love.
The buoyant feeling inside her grew at that thought. So much so it was as if some of the proverbial weight she carried on her shoulders had been lifted away, if only for a moment.
She took a deep breath, righted her posture, and approached the Drifter one more time. “Very well,” she said. “If you are so eager to prove yourself a gentleman, you can at least play the part of my escort.”
Eris reached out to him and slipped her forearm behind his elbow. He said nothing as he watched her with curious interest. She tucked her hand back through the cook of his arm, and guided him to stand beside her.
“Take me to the main-deck living area before excusing yourself to go shower. After that we can eat, and discuss our options for the evening from there.” It was an authoritative command, but also not an unkind one.
An easy smile played across the Drifter’s lips. “Yessiree. My girl keepin’ me on my toes in the best possible way.” He paused as he shifted just a bit closer to her. “Sure is good to have you back, Moondust,” he said in a hushed voice. The whole time he spoke, he did not take his eyes from hers.
Eris sighed, then smiled back at him in spite of herself.
They left the workshop behind, walking side by side through the corridors of the ship. The Drifter rambled nonstop, moving effortlessly from one topic to the next - dinner plans, Gambit anecdotes, details about other devices he’d tinkered with that hadn’t blown up in his face, and so on. His animated expressions and uniquely colorful narration made for acceptable entertainment to fill the length of their stroll.
Eris watched and listened without interruption as she basked in the simple pleasure of the moment.
Truly, he was for all the world a fool.
And she would not have him any other way.