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“Camping.”
Ikora repeated what Eris had said, her hands flat on her desk, confirming that it was, in fact, what had been spoken.
“Yes.” Eris confirmed, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Ikora looked from Eris, leaning forward attentively in one chair, to the Drifter sprawled in the other, leaning back, looking bored, a coin tumbling on his knuckles.
“Your idea, I’m assuming.”
“We ain’t asking yer permission, Rayray. We’re doing ya the courtesy of keepin’ ya informed.”
Both women stared at him. The coin tumbled from one side of his knuckles to the other and back again. The Drifter looked from one person to the other, gradually getting more and more nervous. He swallowed and sat up in his chair. The coin disappeared into his hand.
“I should stop talking.”
Eris tilted her head slightly, her hand cradling the ball of soulfire in her lap. “Yes,” she said firmly.
He lifted up hands and leaned back in a gesture of surrender.
Ikora kept her face impassive, inwardly laughing.
Eris turned back to Ikora to continue their conversation.
“There is no way Zavala will approve this.” Ikora said it more as a formality than anything.
Eris accepted her soft volley and returned it. “As has been so… bluntly pointed out, we are not requesting his authorization. And, it would be preferable if any… surveillance… was minimal.”
“Xivu Arath could strike at any moment, with full force.” Ikora continued the performative exchange, her eyes searching Eris’ face for confirmation.
“She would need to find us first.” Eris’ mouth twitched in a small smile.
Ikora quirked an eyebrow in acknowledgement. “It seems like an unnecessary risk.” Another gentle pitch.
“The Vanguard has no issues with me being stationed on the moon, in a known location, surrounded by hive. How is this less safe?”
Ikora nodded. “And you are not exactly known for playing it safe.” She looked briefly at the Drifter.
“No.” Eris replied. “I am not. And… of all people, have the two of us,” she gestured to the Drifter beside her, “not proven ourselves… beyond competent at… survival?”
The Drifter watched the two women talking, gradually realizing they were playing some form of 3D chess, but not clear on what was actually going on. Whatever it was, Eris was clearly winning, and that was good enough for him. Maybe it was Hidden shit. It was probably Hidden shit. Absolutely was Hidden shit.
“What about Immaru?” Ikora asked.
Eris sighed. “Would you be willing to delegate the odious task of overseeing that osseous little toad to someone else for a few days?”
“You could always have him stay with Spider,” the Drifter interjected, “He’s got a way with ghosts.”
“No.” Both Ikora and Eris spoke firmly in unison.
The Drifter threw up his hands again.
“As cathartic as that would be,” Eris continued, “...we need him intact, not… sold for parts.”
“That little shit could use a few less parts… maybe the ones that let him speak… just sayin’.”
Eris’ three eyes flashed. “The same might be said for you.”
“Hey!”
“I will find someone.” Ikora said firmly. “Drifter, would you be willing to bring Tom camping with you?”
Eris turned to look at him quizzically.
“That depends,” the Drifter shifted in the chair and met Ikora’s gaze, “Does Tom have ears I don’t know about?”
“No. Geographic location only. Responds to a ping, not broadcasting.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Fine,” The Drifter twisted his neck until it made an audible crack. “He can come.”
Eris tilted her head.
“Tell ya later.”
“Hmmm…”
“I trust you will at least bring some sort of comms device with you,” Ikora continued, looking back at Eris, “so you are able to request assistance if you need it? Not that you will.”
Eris turned back to face the Vanguard spymaster. “Of course.”
“Well, then.” Ikora folded her hands on her desk. “Have fun.”
“Thank you,” Eris stood and brushed her fingertips against the Drifter’s hand, trailing them up along his arm as she turned and made her way to the door.
Ikora’s eyebrows raised at the ease with which Eris touched him. Eris did not touch other people very often… at all. The Drifter’s reaction to it was almost more interesting. He looked up at Eris with a delighted half-smile on his face as she went by and then, cat-like, flowed out of his chair to follow her.
Crow was right. His entire body language changed.
Have you seen the way he looks at her?
Neither one made a sound as they moved. Two shadows, visible for now, but able to disappear at a moment’s notice without a trace.
Ikora’s eyebrows raised even higher as she watched the Drifter slide his fingertips into Eris’ hand as they walked. There was no awkwardness there from either of them. Eris seemed completely at ease with this physicality. It was a very small gesture but the weight of it, the resonance, to Ikora was… profound.
On the one hand, Drifter was clearly showing off. Ikora half expected him to stick his tongue out at her. But on the other hand, what he was showing off was not just that Eris was letting him touch her, affectionately, in front of Ikora, but also how happy it made her.
Eris stopped and turned back to face Ikora in the doorway. The Drifter, now ahead of her, paused mid step and pivoted, leaning his back on the wall outside of Ikora’s office, out of sight, still holding Eris’ hand.
“I will provide you with the report I owe you upon our return,” Eris said.
Ikora could not help but smile as she watched them. “I… look forward to it. Enjoy your vacation.”
Eris smiled back playfully over the soulfire of her Ahamkara bone.
“I shall,” she said quietly before turning and pulling the Drifter along with her down the hall.
Ikora found herself once more staring at an empty doorway. But, this time, instead of frustration and analysis, picking apart an interaction for clues to what had actually happened in the subtext of a conversation, she found herself replaying over and over in her mind the genuinely loving way the two of them had touched each other in front of her, and, especially, Eris’ playful smile.
When was the last time she had seen that sort of smile on Eris’ face? Ikora couldn’t remember. It was so rare Eris smiled at all, at least, it had been. She was smiling a lot more since her triumph over the hive, but what Ikora had just witnessed was not mere contentment, this was mischievous, and filled with… delight.
Ikora closed her eyes, relief, happiness and gratitude washing over her. Whatever dislike and distrust she had toward the Drifter… as long as he was making Eris smile like that, then he was right, they should, and… would… be friends.