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He laid with his head in her lap, his eyes closed tightly against some unseen threat.
“Bit of a headache,” he’d muttered, before bowing his head to his papers again. Inej had pressed her lips together, unconvinced. She saw the tight set of his jaw, the deep crease of his brow. Kaz would never admit the extent of his pain - at least, not out loud - but these things were enough for Inej; she knew how to see through his armor.
Before long, she was coaxing him onto the couch, under the pretense of testing it out. It was a new edition to his office at the Slat, the office that used to be Per Haskell’s. Inej had convinced him to buy it, claiming she required a comfortable place to relax when The Wraith came into port. In actuality, she’d had other motivations in mind. And getting Kaz to give himself a break every once in a while may or may not have been one of them.
The couch was where they were now, her back against its smooth leather surface and Kaz stretched horizontally across it, his long legs just reaching the opposite end. Inej looked down into his sullen face. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, his brows furrowed like when he was working a particularly complex lock. His whole form radiated tension, and Inej wanted to take it away.
“Kaz.”
“Mm?”
“What can I do?”
He cracked one eye opened, winced, closed it again. His lips parted, and for a moment Inej thought he might actually ask her for something, might actually accept her help. Then-
“Nothing,” he said on an exhale, “m’fine.”
Inej sighed. There must be something, she thought, water, ice, a tonic perhaps…
She stole another glance down at him, then gathered her courage and reached out to run her fingers through his hair. She did it carefully, sticking to the dark strands he kept long at the top, the ones that were as far as she could get from the exposed skin of his forehead. Inej half expected Kaz to snap at her - to tell her to stop - to snatch up his cane and go marching up to his room - but he didn’t. Instead, he released a low hum, turning his cheek slightly into the cushion of her thighs.
It soothes him, she thought, and she felt her heart flutter. Perhaps she could risk it: the barest of touches. They’d been toeing that line since he held her hand on the dock. His head is in my lap, after all…
Slowly, she laced her fingers further into his hair, chancing the lightest brushes against his skin. When he didn’t flinch, she began to work deeper, until she was practically massaging his scalp, fingernails scratching at the shorter hair on the sides.
Inej felt her heart soaring. Every touch was a victory with Kaz, and here he was, his head in her lap, her hands in his hair. It was about as vulnerable as she’d ever seen him.
Lost in her thoughts, her hands began to still. Her attention was roused when she felt Kaz lean into her touch, like a house cat demanding to be pet. Her eyes shifted back to him, and found that his eyebrows were slanted downward, his lower lip jutting out in a most childlike way. Inej suppressed the urge to giggle; Kaz Brekker, bastard of the Barrel, scariest man to walk the streets of Ketterdam, was pouting.
“Would you like me to keep going?” Inej murmured teasingly, her fingers tracing little circles on his skin.
“Mmph,” Kaz grunted in response. “Feels nice.” Inej smiled and obliged, continuing her gentle massage. She pressed her fingertips into his temples, and watched as his tension melted away. When she met his forehead, she paused for a moment. Kaz felt warm; too warm, Inej thought. A fever would explain the headache, as well as the dull complexion of his skin, the rosy patches blooming high in his cheekbones. Perhaps she should rouse him, get him up to bed. But then there were all those stairs… she settled for applying gentle pressure to the bridge of his nose.
After a while, Inej noticed his eyes were not pulled at their corners anymore, and an even breath was flowing to and from his lungs. Sleep, love, Inej willed. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks to her Saints, then closed her eyes, settling back against the sofa. She was almost asleep herself when Kaz’s voice broke the silence.
“Inej,” he rasped, “how long are you going to stay here?”
“Until you tell me to leave,” she replied automatically. She felt her old defenses shooting up around her. If he didn’t want her there, he could just say the words.
“No, I mean… how long are you going to stay in Ketterdam?”
“Oh.” She felt sorry for snapping at him now. His question, which she’d taken for irritability, was actually carefully concealed hopefulness.
The Wraith had been in port just three days. It wasn’t the first time she’d come back since she left, but each time she returned, it was never for more than a week. There was always more work to be done, more slavers to catch, more young girls like her who needed someone to save them. And staying longer, Inej found, only made it harder to leave again when the time came; it only made it harder to leave Kaz. She decided an honest answer was best.
“I’m not sure,” Inej said softly, brushing his hair back from his face. “At least until you’re well.”
Kaz’s eyes opened just enough for him to cast a baleful glance in her direction. He opened his mouth as if to argue that he was perfectly well, thank you very much, but then seemed to think better of it, and closed his mouth again.
“You don’t have to,” he muttered a moment later. “You are the captain of The Wraith. Your duty is to you crew. You have important affairs to attend to.”
"You're my crew, too," Inej replied before she could stop herself. She knew Kaz would never ask her to stay - not again. He'd given her a boat and a berth, everything she needed to fulfill her dream, and in doing so, he'd given her a chance to leave him, too. She knew it was the right choice; Inej had found her purpose, and she wasn't finished yet. But the fact was that she missed Kaz when she was away. She missed his theatricality and his witty, snide remarks. She missed sitting in comfortable silence with him, feeding crows on his window sill as the sun sank below the horizon. She couldn't stay in Ketterdam. She couldn't. But maybe there was another way.
"Kaz," she said delicately, "what if... what if you came? On The Wraith. With me." The look Kaz gave her was one she couldn't read, because it was one she'd never seen him wear before. His eyes were wide and fever-bright, but there was something so tender about his expression, so genuinely surprised.
"I know you have your duty to the Dregs," she added, "and there are logistics we'd need to work out. I couldn't guarantee when we'd be back here again, but-"
Inej was silenced when Kaz reached up to take her hand, which she'd tangled up in his hair. Slowly, he drew it to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles.
"There's nothing I'd want more," he murmured.
Inej let her smile overtake her whole face. She squeezed his hand in hers, feeling warmth spread from the spot where his mouth had touched her, all the way up her arm and through her chest.
Then she laughed, "but we're not leaving until you're well. You have a fever, Kaz." Kaz rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back onto her thighs, but his lips were quirked up at the corners.
"Fine, Wraith," he said in his rock salt rasp. "I can't argue with my captain, after all."