Untouchable

5: Friend

Jarvis doesn't leave, stays the night, though they both sleep poorly. When she wakes the first time as he turns suddenly, she thinks it is the bed that is too small. When she wakes for the fourth time, because he holds on to her like a drowning man, she begins to suspect the bed is not the issue. He gets up earlier than she does, hesitates before kissing her in the dark, as if she might not want the affection now that morning is here.

Holly half slumbers while he showers, watches him dress, pause, kneel on the floor by the bed. She looks at him looking at her, smiles. He returns the smile, seems uncertain still.

"Sorry about... the night," he says, evidently aware of how little sleep she has gotten.

"That's ok," she assures him, reaches out and runs a finger along his nose, dips to his lips, down his chin.

"Can I come back in the evening?" he gently takes her hand, practically envelops it in his, kisses her fingers.

"I'd like that."

She means it, more than she can express. The three words doesn't do her desire for companionship justice. It seems to be enough though. He smiles, crow's feet deepening, kisses her again, gets to his feet.

"See you later then," he says as he slips out the door, closing it behind him.

She stays in bed for another ten minutes until it is time to get up, shower, get dressed and ready. Despite the mess they made undressing it isn't difficult to find her things. There are only so many places items can disappear to in a room so spartanly decorated. After a moment of hesitation, she pulls the sheets from the bed, folds them, puts them on the pile of laundry.

Once that is done, she leaves to join the commissar in the dining room. He is early today, she notes, already seated while the food is being set out by the steward. Reading from a dataslate, tapping his foot against the table leg. Irritated. She pulls out her usual chair, sits down, nods to the steward who can't bring himself to look at her. He leaves the room as soon as the table has been laid out without acknowledging her existence. As usual.

Lynch is normally the one to wish her a good morning first, the silence is new. Irritated with her? Perhaps. Perhaps she has overstepped. She begins to eat her breakfast, says nothing until he puts away the dataslate, picks up his own fork.

"Good morning, sir," she says, gently, testing the waters.

"Yes, sorry, good morning, Holly," he says, speaking faster than usual but not harshly. He pauses, fork hovering above his plate, looks at her.

She blinks, surprised at this degree of attention so early in the morning. Swallows, raises her eyebrows a little, tilts her head a bit to the side.

"Are you... well?"

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Uh... It's none of my business, but," he presses on, disregarding the first part of his statement, "if you need me to, I'll have him sent to a penal colony in a box. He'll be off the planet on the first available shuttle."

Ah. Not irritation. Concern? Misplaced, but nevertheless. He seems to have forgotten that she is here to protect him, not the other way around. Yet she supposes she can't blame him for asking, considering her lack of initiative and consistently compliant behavior this past month and a half. She smiles, softly, shakes her head, meets his eyes.

"I invited him, sir," she assures him. "I am human."

The statement hangs between them, heavy and uncomfortable, challenging. She didn't intend it to be, but now that it is out in the open she sees it for what it is. It makes him uneasy, that is evident. "Mutant" hangs in the air, a disagreeing ghost, unspoken, unwanted, undeniable. There are silent follow up questions, words that when given voice cannot be taken back. Answers that are not flattering to either of them.