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“What do you mean you’re going to be off comms? For how long?”
“Bye, Hiro.”
The agitated Ranger’s voice cut off with a snap of Seven’s communicator, and she saunters to the kitchen with a smirk.
“Hey, you. That sounded intense.” Raffi looks up from the pie filling she was working on – strawberries caught in a tart red glaze.
“On the contrary. As of now, I am on… vacation.” The word is foreign on her tongue, but not unwelcome.
“You? Vacation?” Raffi blinks.” What about helping those–”
“I want nothing more,” Seven shushes her, “than this.”
“Right here. Right now."