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All in all, Don thought, this was not one of their more successful missions.
With six weeks of experience as a member of a pirate crew, he felt qualified to make such judgement.
It had started out auspiciously enough. Their arrival to the moon – a small no-name outpost, barely more than nominally under Zangyack control – had gone without a hitch, and they had successfully concealed the Galleon a little more than an hour's walk from the moon’s only town, with none of the inhabitants being any wiser. Don had spent his first day in the marketplace, bartering for fresh vegetables, meat, eggs, and other such luxuries that the relatively peaceful location could offer, accompanied by Luka, who managed all of the ship's finances. For a pirate captain, Don had learned, Marvelous was startlingly indifferent to money and far more interested in the supplies Don could procure, regardless of the blistering prices. Luka more than made up for his disinterest, although she did nothing to curb Don's selection, contenting herself with rather aggressive haggling.
"You are too nice," she had said, when Don unsuccessfully tried to talk her down from a vitriolic argument with one of the marketwomen. "That's why we can't let you out alone, you would let people rob you blind, and then where would we be?" She had shaken hands with her opponent after the deal was sealed, bidding her goodbye with far more respect than Don had seen her extend to anyone, leaving him once more wondering about the strange company he had landed himself in.
Their next morning had been spent in hardware and electronic stores, picking up tools and equipment Don intended to put in good use for repairs on the Galleon, as well as giving orders for more specialised items, which the local mechanics promised to deliver by the next day. Feeling accomplished, and satisfied with the knowledge that they would be able to leave the moon the very next day, the two pirates had made their way back to the marketplace, where they were supposed to meet Marvelous and Joe for lunch, only to be swept along towards the outskirts of town by their companions with hardly a warning.
The best Don could piece together from a curt explanation was that the pair had received a word from a friend of Marvelous – apparently he used that word loosely – about a Zangyack scouting ship that had crashed on the moon, about two hour's walking distance from the town, at the nearly opposite direction from where they had landed.
"This could be nothing," Marvelous had said, when Don wondered at his interest. "Or it could be something."
"He means they could be planning something," Luka had translated, when no further explanation appeared to be forthcoming. "The crash might be a ruse. Zangyack ships don't just drop from the sky like ripe fruit. We're going to find out what's there, and if it's valuable."
"Or dangerous," Joe added helpfully.
Had anyone been asking Don, he would have told them right then that this was a terrible idea, but then, nobody was.
In all fairness, he couldn’t regret their decision – and wasn’t that just the trouble with the space pirates? After all, not only had the ship been rigged with explosives, it was also clearly in the process of being masked as a vessel belonging to one of the anti-Zangyack resistance organisations active in this part of space. No doubt it was intended to hit some innocent civilian target, thus justifying violent reprisals from the Empire. Had they not intercepted it when they did... Don shuddered.
Of course, it had also been well guarded.
Despite the difficult battle after being caught unawares, they had successfully taken out all of their opponents. Even more importantly, they had managed to do so without drawing too much attention, or giving their enemies a chance of alerting the Empire of their presence. Moreover, while none of them had come away unscathed, their wounds were mostly superficial, Luka's burned hands and Don's own twisted ankle being the worst of the lot, apart from the deep gash on Marvelous arm, which to Don’s astonishment had stopped bleeding even before he dropped his transformation.
More frustratingly, it was nearly three hours' walk back to the Galleon – at their first assessment, which turned out to be far too optimistic, when accounting for Don's sore ankle and the rough terrain they had chosen by deciding to walk straight towards the ship rather than following the road back to town. All four of them were exhausted, sore, injured and more than a bit hungry, having missed lunch and being well on their way through missing dinner. Breakfast, taken at early hours of morning before a long walk to town, was a distant memory.
Nevertheless, there was no way they could call upon the ship without alerting the Zangyack, thus giving up not only their chance to leave the moon without notice, but also all the equipment they had still to pick up from the town, something both Don and Luka vehemently opposed, one out of concern for his supplies, the other for her Zagins. Marvelous, his expression inscrutable, had listened to their arguments without a word and merely nodded, giving little indication of his own thoughts. Joe had said nothing at all, but Don had caught him looking at Marvelous with a slight frown, as if noticing something about his manner that Don did not.
After three hours, Don is seriously contemplating handing in his resignation.
His ankle hurts , a dull throb which has slowly grown into rhythmic stabs of pain as they stumble across the darkening landscape. The nightfall had brought an unexpected dip in the temperature and the damp cold had crept through the layers of sweaty clothing, leaving them all half frozen, exhausted, gritty and miserable. For his part, Don would happily hand over his share of The Greatest Treasure In The Universe for a hot meal, a shower and the comfort of his own bed. And an ice pack and a painkiller.
Despite his best efforts, Don knows that he's slowing the group down significantly. In fairness, none of them have complained about that, and Joe had appeared at his side after the first few minutes, wordlessly prompting Don to lean some of his weight on his shoulder, much to his relief. Joe frightens him a bit, sometimes, with his soldier's sternness and silent ferocity, but at least exhausted and irritable Joe is just a smidge more quiet and gruff version of the ordinary Joe, which is a known quantity. Exhausted and irritable Luka has sharp elbows she's not afraid to use, and exhausted and irritable Marvelous –
"Are we there soon?"
Don holds back a sigh, as Luka mutters something uncomplimentary under her breath. Apparently exhausted and irritable Marvelous reverts back to toddlerhood.
"Another forty minutes, give or take," Joe responds, with more patience than Don would have been capable of, although he does nothing to conceal the exasperation in his voice.
Marvelous in his turn groans, as if he hadn't been asking the same question every ten minutes for the past hour.
"Will you give it a rest already," Luka snaps and Don bites back a groan. Here they go again. "We aren't getting there any faster if you keep complaining about it."
"I'm starving," Marvelous answers sulkily. There's something odd about his posture, tight and defensive, but that doesn't stop him from picking up the same argument again and again.
"We heard you the first time, you big baby," Luka shoots back. After a moment, her expression softens and she leans over to punch Marvelous' shoulder. "Come now, we've all been through worse situations. Missing dinner is not the end of the universe."
"It might be the end of me ," Marvelous mutters, apparently determined to have the last word. "It won't be much fun for the rest of you if I faint from hunger and you have to drag my unconscious body the rest of the way."
"Don't even think about it," Luka says, her tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. "You're too big and neither Doc nor I are in a fit state to help carry you. Not all of us get to heal like you do, you know."
"Like that's doing me any good right now," Marvelous says, scowling at Luka.
"Both of you shut up." Joe finally snaps, as Luka opens her mouth again. Marvelous flashes him a quick look, something like hurt flickering over his expression, but he turns away too fast for Don to make out.
Don sighs again. For a group of fierce experienced warriors, his crewmates act so young sometimes, in a way that makes him seriously wonder about their upbringing.
He decides it's high time to interfere.
"Look, it's only forty minutes – maybe closer to thirty now," he says, trying to keep his tone as even and patient as possible. "I'll put something together as soon as we get back to the ship. Something fast. We have enough fresh ingredients for hot sandwiches."
Instead of perking up at the idea of warm dinner, Marvelous turns away again. "Can’t wait that long." His tone is curt, dismissive.
Don rears back as if struck. "Marvelous..."
"Hey," Luka snaps.
Marvelous ignores them both, stalking forward through the underbrush, until Joe shoots out his free hand, snagging his shoulder in a grip that seems tighter than is strictly friendly and Luka stalks forward to grab at his elbow.
In response, Marvelous whirls around, pulling himself free from both of their grasp in the process and forcing the entire group to halt.
"Look," Marvelous says. His expression is tight and strange and there's something almost like anger in his tone, although he doesn't raise his voice at all. "I'm not actually trying to be difficult here, you do understand that, right?"
"News to me," snaps Luka, stepping aside as if to move around him. "You do realise that we are all also hungry and tired and in pain ? Doc's all but ready to crawl the rest of the way and you are not making this easier for any of us."
Don starts to shake his head – he's pretty annoyed himself, but he's sure Luka turning this into some kind of competition of suffering is not going to help – but Joe cuts him off before he can say anything. "Marvelous," he says, his expression fixed on their captain. "What's going on?"
If possible, Marvelous' expression grows even tighter. "I don't know what you don't understand. I've been perfectly clear."
"Yes, yes, you're hungry," Joe answers. "What of it?"
"Starving," Marvelous corrects with a glower. There's a genuine anger in his expression now – or is it hurt? "You're not taking this seriously."
Joe doesn't waver. "Taking what seriously?" he asks. "What do you mean?"
Marvelous gives him an exasperated look. "I mean that –" Something in his expression falters. "I mean –" Trailing off, he makes a move as if to step towards Joe, before sitting down right there on the ground, a hasty graceless move that is closer to a controlled fall. "Not going any further," he mumbles.
"What –" Luka manages to exclaim, while Joe sinks down to the ground next to their captain, just managing to catch Marvelous as he starts tilting sideways. Luka and Don exchange a dismayed glance before crouching down next to them.
"What's wrong with him?" Luka demands, glancing first at Don as if expecting him to have an answer, before turning to Joe. "Has this ever happened before?"
Joe answers her question with a short shake of head, repeating Marvelous' name as he pulls their captain into his arms, earning a half coherent mumble in response. At least Marvelous doesn't seem to be completely out cold.
Don wracks his own brain. "Any injuries we don't know about?"
"Can't be," Joe says. "He was never out of my sight for more than a few seconds."
Luka nods, moving to help Joe to take off Marvelous coat and rolling up his shirt sleeve. "Just this cut on his arm, which – oh. It's bleeding again."
The wound is indeed bleeding sluggishly, although not, in Don's estimation, anywhere near enough to explain the state Marvelous is in. Joe and Luka, however, exchange a concerned glance.
"That's weird, right?" Luka says. "This shouldn't happen." Joe shakes his head.
Somewhere against Joe's shoulder, Marvelous mutters something incoherent.
"Marvelous." Joe's voice is softer than Don has ever heard it, a mixture of intense concern and relief, as he shifts himself to settle Marvelous more comfortably. "How're you feeling? Can you get up?"
Marvelous mumbles something again. "Just let me lay down."
"I don't think so, the ground is freezing," the soft tone of Joe's voice is completely at odds with the curt words. "Tell us how to help you."
For someone less than half conscious, Marvelous manages to look far too exasperated. " Food ."
... Oh. Well maybe they did deserve that.
Joe's usually stoic face goes through a series of expressions Don has never seen on him, before settling back on the usual composure with some effort. "Food," he repeats. "Just food. You are absolutely sure?"
" Yes ," Marvelous hisses.
"This has happened before," Luka concludes, more a statement than a question. Her expression remains completely indecipherable. "You will be fine once you have something to eat?"
"Yes," Marvelous repeats.
The three exchange a glance. "I'll go," Luka says. "Energy bars?"
"Get some of those sweet berries we bought too," Don says. "And that fruity drink of yours. And a bottle of water."
It's probably telling of the weight of the situation that Luka makes no arguments in defence of the ownership of her favourite soda, merely giving a brisk nod before taking off in the direction of the ship in half run, leaving Don alone with Joe and Marvelous.
For the first few minutes, they sit in silence. Joe settles Marvelous across his stretched out legs, allowing him to settle in a more reclined position, before draping the red coat over him like a blanket. Don settles down next to them, pressing close to share body heat, although Marvelous, running nearly three degrees hotter than the rest of them, is probably benefiting less from their presence than they are of his. Despite their best efforts, Don can feel him shivering against his side.
It must be all connected, Don thinks, watching Joe running his fingers through Marvelous' hair with so much tenderness it makes him feel almost guilty to witness. The fast healing, the food, even the body temperature. If he was an actual doctor, he would know what it all meant. If he was a proper friend, he would have listened, would have been trying to make sense of what Marvelous was telling them like Joe had been, instead of wallowing in his own sorry feelings. If he was a proper – pirate, crewmember, cook, odd jobs guy, whatever exactly he was – he would have put the pieces together. It wasn't as if he hadn't noticed that Marvelous requirements for food differed from the rest of the crew. It had annoyed him at first, to find his captain rummaging the galley for snacks less than an hour before dinnertime, but any idea of this being an insult to his cooking was quickly dismissed. As his attempts to find out more about Marvelous' dietary needs remained unsuccessful – a careless question about his species had Marvelous walking away from the conversation mid-sentence – Don had contented himself with keeping the meals plentiful and the cupboards stocked with a healthier selection of snacks than his crewmates' usual choices.
Perhaps he should have pressed the issue. Perhaps he should have been doing many things differently.
Joe nudges his leg with his own. "You are brooding."
"Oh." For a moment, Don is flustered, then he gathers himself and narrows his eyes. "So are you."
It's a guess, but a safe one. Instead of answering, Joe looks down at Marvelous in his arms and well –
Don is neither blind nor stupid. Marvelous had hardly been subtle in his first explanation of what being part of his crew could mean, and his open appraisal had been both flattering and intriguing. Any wariness he might have had about sharing intimacy with his captain was easily dispelled by observing him and Luka, their easy trust and affection and camaraderie the most convincing counterargument against any lingering preconceptions about dastardly pirates. The same was clearly true for Joe and Luka.
No, it was Marvelous and Joe which gave him pause. In his brief career as a space pirate, Don would dare to claim he had observed planets less reliable in their orbit around their sun than Joe was around Marvelous, both on and off the battlefield. Should any enemy actually succeed in landing a serious blow on their captain, well, Don could almost pity them. Marvelous, in his turn, seemed to be always aware of Joe in the same way he seemed always aware of the position of the stars around them, without so much as a glance at a navigational chart.
Theirs was a relationship that felt more like something out of an old space ballad than real life. ( Destiny , Marvelous had said once, with a strange smile. Life debt , Joe had explained, when Don had asked how he became a pirate, but there was something frustrated in the way he said it, as if he was finding the words insufficient in conveying some great significance). Don could witness it in awe, envy it a little, but he did not know if he could place himself adjacent to it, feeling any relationship he could build with either of them pale in insignificance. Not when he admired them both so deeply.
"Brooding again," Joe mutters next to him, not looking up from Marvelous, who had closed his eyes and seemed to be focused on breathing steadily.
"... Yeah," Don admits, shifting a bit. Better that than having to explain what he was really thinking about.
"It's not your fault," Joe says. "Yours less than any of us."
Don opens his mouth, then closes it again. "Is there really a point in arguing about that now?" They would have to discuss this, he supposes. Preferably with fully conscious Marvelous involved in the conversation, though he suspects their captain isn't above shutting down the topic before they can even start.
Joe's lip twitches. "I suppose not. Luka should be back soon." He brushes the backs of his fingers over Marvelous' cheek, prompting the latter to open his eyes.
"Joe?" Marvelous mumbles, turning his head. "Doc?" There's something disturbingly like relief in his gaze. "You're both here."
"Of course we are here," Joe responds calmly, although something pained flashes in his expression, even as Don blurts out "You didn't think we would leave ?"
"... No," Marvelous responds after a moment. "Of course not." He pulls his coat closer.
"Luka's getting some food from the Galleon," Joe continues, as if in answer to an unspoken question. "She'll be here soon."
"Good," Marvelous says, relaxing visibly and Don has to wonder if it's because of the food or the update on an absent crewmember. Marvelous attention shifts back to him. "How's your ankle?"
"Oh." Stiff and sore as the rest of him. "Probably better for getting some rest, really."
Even half conscious, Marvelous doesn't quite look like he believes him, but his attention is diverted by the arrival of Luka, who's carrying enough snacks to feed a small army.
Even with food, it takes fifteen minutes before Marvelous can stand steadily, although he never quite stops shivering. The walk back to Galleon is silent and slower than any of them would like.
They hustle Marvelous onto the couch with strict introductions to rest while the dinner is prepared – the fact that he doesn't even try to argue would probably be tripping more alarm bells, if Don wasn’t already so tired. But the day had already provided far more excitement than any reasonable sentient should handle, so he simply lets Luka drag him into the galley, leaving Joe as a silent guardian at his captain's bedside.
"Sit," Luka says, almost pushing him into the chair and rummaging through the freezer for an ice pack. "You've been walking enough on that ankle, I'll be your legs for now."
Don eyes her a bit warily. Both Luka and Marvelous can be hazardous in the kitchen – and really he does wonder about it; at least Joe's lack of culinary experience after years in the military canteens makes sense – but even Luka couldn't cause too much danger by gathering sandwich ingredients.
"I can take it from here," Don says, when everything he needs is spread out on the table in front of him. "You probably shouldn't use your hands too much either."
Luka glances down at her burned fingers and shrugs. "It's alright." She sits down across the table, observing Don. "Just tell me if you need anything else."
Don nods, trying not to feel distracted by her scrutiny. She's trying to look out for him, he realises after a moment. Oddly enough, he doesn't think he's ever seen Luka sitting still like this. Normally he'd expect her to be stealing food from the table, or poking through the cupboards, or peppering him with questions. There's something troubled about her quiet that speaks of more than just exhaustion.
"Are you alright?" Don asks, not looking up from his work as he sets the tray of sandwiches in the oven. It's easier this way, somehow.
Luka huffs, and for a moment he doesn't think she's going to respond.
"I should have known better," she says after a moment and Don almost startles, hearing his own thoughts reflected back to him so precisely.
"None of us did," he says. It feels like a poor excuse. Luka scowls.
"The whole thing was weird enough," she says. "Normally he acts like nothing can touch him. I mean, he's always obsessed with his food, but I thought it was just, you know," she waves her hand.
Don frowns, feeling like he's missing several leaps of logic. "Just what?"
"You know," Luka repeats, grimacing. There's something wary and defensive in the curl of her shoulders. "Not all of us grew up with," she waves her hand again, gesturing at Don, at the table between them. "this sort of thing."
Don furrows his brow, trying to make sense of her trajectory. "Cooking?"
"Cooking," Luka repeats. "Kitchens. Food every day. That sort of thing."
Oh . There's nothing Don can really say to that. He busies himself with checking on the peeping oven while a series of odd observations from the past few weeks that he hadn't been able to make sense of, suddenly click into place.
"He gets pretty territorial about food. Never about anything else though, which is weird , but then that's Marvelous for you. I'm not sure he really sees most physical things as real and permanent enough to matter. Never seems to mind when we do things our way, though."
Don nods, he has noticed the same thing and wondered about it. He's still not sure how to respond, but Luka seems lost in her own head anyway, fiddling with one of her rings.
“I suppose," she continues eventually. "I feel like – he was upset, and that should have been enough. Even without knowing why. Even if it hadn't been urgent or important at all. It should have still been worth taking seriously."
Don nods in understanding, feeling his resolve tighten. This, at least, was within his area of expertise. He couldn't figure out everything that was happening or why, but he could look after his crew. Apparently it was a high time someone did. "We will do better next time," he says. "That's what you both told me, yes? We all do what we can, and we make do. And for now," he turns back to the oven. “What we can do is to have dinner."
They have to wake Marvelous up for dinner, which worries Don a bit, but the speed with which he tears through grilled sandwiches is nothing if not reassuring. He's not saying much, and one look at his exhausted expression puts a stop to any idea of trying to discuss what happened.
After dinner and a quick round of showers, the crew trudges off to bed. Don has barely enough energy left to feel surprised when both Joe and Luka snag at his shirt and pull him into the captain's cabin, where they fall onto the bed in a pile of exhausted limbs. Despite the unexpected turn of events, Don finds himself relaxing for the first time in hours and drifts off to sleep before he can even untangle himself.
Don wakes to the greyish light of the pre-dawn gloom, briefly disoriented before his waking mind catches up to him. He turns to find Marvelous' on his right, propped up on his elbow, observing him with a sleepy grin. For a moment, he contemplates kissing him right then and there, but restrains himself. For one thing, Joe and Luka are right there, and he doesn't know how they usually go about things, but it might be awkward. For another, he really does prefer to think his plans through just a bit more. Instead he contents himself with smiling back.
"Good morning," he says. "How're you feeling?" Marvelous merely shrugs, but he seems content enough, stretching himself like a cat.
Don stretches his arms over his head, luxuriating for a moment in the delightful laziness of a warm bed and company. At Marvelous' other side, Joe pulls himself up into a sitting position. "Where's Luka?"
"Here," Luka says, entering the cabin with plates of pastries she and Don had picked up the day before. "Breakfast."
Don groans, as Luka climbs right into the middle of the bed, nudging at Marvelous to move his legs out of the way. "Crumbs. In bed ," he complains and immediately feels guilty as the memories of the last night wash over him again. Marvelous merely looks amused.
"It's not even your bed," he says.
"Well, I'm sleeping in it," Don responds with as much dignity as he can muster.
"You're welcome to do so any time." The words should have been more suggestive, if they weren't delivered in such a matter of fact tone.
Don shifts a bit. "I don't want to intrude."
"It's not intruding," Joe says, as Marvelous merely snorts, helping himself to a pastry. "Believe me, everyone here is perfectly upfront about demanding privacy when they need it."
"Doesn't have to be a sex thing either," Luka adds, contemplating him thoughtfully. "Everyone needs company sometimes, don't we?"
Don hesitates. There's an obvious opening here that he could pursue, to take the conversation to a far more pleasant path than the one that is currently weighing on his mind. Perhaps it would be enough, to find understanding and comfort in each others' arms. But he can't help but feel like he'd be failing in his self-appointed duty to look after the crew.
"Are we going to talk about yesterday?" he eventually says, tamping down the guilt that immediately wells up at the visible shift in the atmosphere. After all, his crewmates are more than capable of telling him to shut up.
Instead, his words are followed by silence. He watches as both Joe and Luka shift their gazes to Marvelous, who has grown very still at his side, suddenly seeming deeply preoccupied with his pastry.
"What is there to talk about?" he eventually says. His tone is guarded, but it's not a 'no', Don realises. It's a door half open, and they'll have to take the first step. He watches Joe and Luka exchange a quick glance, and tries to think fast.
"We didn't know this would happen," is what he eventually settles for. "We – didn't understand you properly and underestimated the situation."
I'm sorry , he doesn't add. Something tells him that a direct apology would shut down the conversation very abruptly.
"That much was obvious." Marvelous seems to relax minutely, his expression a bit rueful. "I suppose I could have explained more, although," He frowns, a bit of lingering agitation passing over his expression. "I thought I was very clear."
"Well..." Don trails off, giving his companions a helpless look.
“Actually, what did happen exactly?” Luka asks. “Did your body just decide to take a nap over a skipped meal or was it special circumstances?”
Marvelous shrugs, apparently not too bothered by the bluntness of the question. “Both. I need more food than you lot, so missing meals is usually bad news, and being injured makes it worse.”
“Because you heal so fast, right?” Doc realises. “That must take up lots of energy."
Marvelous shrugs. "I need food to heal."
Joe's gaze is serious. "This has happened before."
"Not for a long time. Years. Well, without injury." Marvelous turns away, his expression shuttering a bit. "Under normal circumstances, I'll manage a day or two before I start fainting all over the place."
"Well," Luka says after a moment. "That doesn’t happen to me, but multiple days without food is still a very unpleasant experience that we’re going to avoid at all costs, right?”
Doc nods empathetically, while Joe shakes his head, feeling a bit rueful.
“I forgot how different our species’ baselines are. I can easily go six or seven days without serious ill effects."
They all pause for a moment to stare at him. "Seriously?" Luka says. "That's too much."
Joe smiles without humour. "There are many reasons why the Zangyack prefer my people as soldiers."
Don doesn't ask how all of them have so much experience on this topic. Perhaps some day he will stop being grieved and startled every time his crewmates reveal another horror they have learned to treat in a matter-of-fact way. For now, he quietly vows to himself that his friends will never go hungry, if he has to face down the Emperor himself to see them fed.
Marvelous nudges him with a foot. “Besides, it’s better with Doc around now.”
“Huh?”
“Your food is better. It takes me longer to get hungry between meals and I don’t get dizzy nearly as much.”
“Well!” Don smirks, pleased. “That’s proper nutrition for you.”
Marvelous smirks back, soft and cat-like “Well, I feel better anyway.”
“That’s right,” Luka says, punching at his shoulder. “Doc, you’re a treasure.”
Joe nods silently, smirking at Don’s flustered expression.
“You guys –” Don knows he must be red to his eartips and all the words he could say splutter on his tongue. He shakes his head slightly.
"Well," he eventually says. "That's a lesson learned I suppose. We will know better next time." He glances at Luka, who nods empathetically, recalling their last conversation. Luka is someone who looks after people, he thinks. Perhaps they all are. Joe's quiet "yes" carries the weight of an oath.
Don looks back at Marvelous, who's watching them all with something indescribable in his gaze. But his posture is one that Don has already learned to recognize. Relief.
For a long moment, they sit in a companionable silence of people who have learned to depend on each other completely and without hesitation.
"Alright," Luka says eventually. "I suppose we should go pick up our supplies and get off this rock before the Zangyack figure out something's up."
"Right," Don mutters, not without some reluctance, as he starts pushing himself upwards, only to be stopped by Marvelous' hand on his wrist.
"Are we really in such a hurry?" their captain asks slowly, glancing at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Don. "It is still very early."
Oh. A flush starts to spread through Don's cheeks as he glances at Joe, quietly amused, and Luka, who's grinning outright, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like finally . "I – suppose another hour won't hurt."