Sacred Envelopes and Strong Words

 

“So, I’m not really sure what we’re supposed to be doing here,” Luke says, “just that we’re supposed to be here, and we’re supposed to be doing something. It all gets a bit murky past that.”

 

“This is why we actually read mission briefings,” Reefer says, “they often prove very helpful in situations like this.”

 

“I would have done that,” Luke says, glaring at Galligher, “had someone not used it as a doormat.”

 

“How was I supposed to know that a plain old manila envelope is sacred, honestly?”

 

“It says Mission Briefing across the front!”

 

“Yes, well, I’m not sure what I could say here to make myself less guilty,” Galligher says.

 

“That’s because there is nothing, absolutely nothing.”

 

Reefer watches this exchange with raised eyebrows, and raises a hand to interrupt, frowning.

 

“Hang on,” he says, “is your hair orange?”

 

Luke takes half a step back from a sweating Galligher, lowering his hands. “Orange is a very strong word.”

 

“It is, isn’t it? I mean, I haven’t gone colorblind, have I?”

 

“No,” Atlas says, “but you might soon if you don’t stop staring. I suggest sunglasses.”

 

0---

 

“Njord lands at nineteen forty-five,” Reefer says, “are we going to want to be there?”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Reefer pauses, “Uh,” he says, “I was talking to Sera the other day, and she was saying how you left on sort of… bad terms, and-”

 

“What?” Luke says, eyes boring into Reefer’s with frightening intensity.

 

“Nothing, never mind,” Reefer says quickly, and moves out of arms reach, “we should get going, almost nineteen hundred, don’t want to be late.”

 

“Oh no, no, no,” Luke says, “you’re going to stay right here and explain.”

 

“I, I’d really rather not, actually.”

 

“Sit,” and it’s like someone yanked the air out from under him, which, alright, someone did, and he’s so glad there was a chair there.

 

“Oww,” Reefer says, “not nice.”

 

“So, what’s the gossip this time?” Luke asks, somehow towering over him, and looking very scary while doing so. “I’ve screwed up, again, and Jase is contemplating homicide?”

 

“Uh,”

 

“Or maybe, I’ve screwed up, again, and Jase is giving up?”

 

“I…” Reefer makes a face, “do we have to do this?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It might be a combination of both? She wasn’t all that clear on the details, something about geese…”

 

0---

 

“Have you considered a hat?” Atlas asks as they walk down the hill to the launch sites. “It might be a good idea; you’re scaring the normal people.”

 

“Have you considered fleeing for your life?”

 

“No, but I’m starting to.”

 

“Good, good, now shut up and find 7b.”

 

“I think it’s that one, over there, with the ship touching down.”

 

“You think? We aren’t late, are we?”

 

“It says 7b in very large print, so I’m going to have to say yes...”

 

0---

 

“Who’s already landed,” Fosher asks the customs officer, “do you know?”

 

“Borr, Jeta, Haast, and Macca, I think, and you’re the last for today, Captain…for the week actually.”

 

“Thank you,” Fosher says, and sighs before turning to Jase. “Well?”

 

“Well what?”

 

Fosher looks past him to Gary drawing a line across his neck. “Uhm, nothing, everything ready to go?”

 

Jase narrows his eyes, but drops it. “Yes, but you might want to put that rope down before you hurt someone.”

 

“Right, right, okay,” Fosher says, letting the rope fall to the deck.

 

Rolling his eyes, Jase leads the way down the ramp, backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder, a glow-in-the-dark moon emblazoned across it.

 

“Very smooth,” Gary says, shaking his head, “really.”

 

“What?” Fosher asks, “what?”

 

0---

 

“Move it, move it, come on people, it’s not a difficult concept.”

 

“It’s not like they can’t see you coming,” Atlas says.

 

“Do you not value your life at all?” Reefer asks, “I only ask because I want to know how the funeral should go. We could save a lot of money on flowers and things like that, and what with the price of funerals these days, I feel it’s an important question; we wouldn’t want to bankrupt your widow after all.”

 

“Get out of the way you disgusting lump of—”

 

“Luke?” Reefer says, “it might go faster if you didn’t insult everyone.”

 

“It would go faster still if I just killed them all.”

 

“I choose to hope that you’re kidding, if only for the sake of my sanity.”

 

“I think they heard you,” Atlas says, “I really think they heard you, and is it just me, or are the walls closing in?”

 

Reefer pauses to give him a look. “You do know that we’re outside, don’t you?”

 

“Walls, people, airways, whatever, does it matter?”

 

“Not to me, but to them it might.”

 

They stop to consider this, eyeing people nervously.

 

“Luke, what are you—oh no, don’t you even think about i—oh shit, oh shit.”

 

“Oh my god, we’re too young to die.”

 

0---

 

“Did you just electrocute half the crowd?”

 

“Only because I couldn’t be bothered to reach for the rest of them.”

 

“Actually, more importantly, is your hair orange?”

 

“No, it’s blue. Of course it’s orange.”

 

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

 

“Well, feel free to kill Atlas for me, he’s the tall, lugish one with the nose.”

 

“Did he use bleach, or what?”

 

“You would have to ask him that,” Luke says peevishly, “does it matter.”

 

“Bleach is very drying.”

 

“Yes, because that is the biggest of my worries.”

 

“That would be nice…”

 

“Oh shut up, honestly, it’s not like I’m bald.”

 

“That might be better, actually.”

 

“You know, you could at least pretend you missed me.”

 

0---

 

“Who is that?” Atlas says, peering through the quickly falling dusk.

 

“Lieutenant Dr. Jase Charter,” Reefer says, “or, more importantly, your judge, jury, and executioner.”

 

“What? Why?

 

“See for yourself.”

 

0---

 

“This is more like it,” Luke mumbles against Jase’s lips, “I mean, honestly, it’s just hair.”

 

“Who needs to shut up?” Jase says between short, sweet kisses.

 

“Bitch,” Luke says, rising on the balls of his feet to press himself against Jase, arms wrapped around his neck.

 

“You know we have an audience, right?”

 

“Your point?” Luke asks, gasping as Jase bites just below his jaw, pressing a soft kiss to bruised skin.

 

“I’m pretty sure I don’t actually have one,” Jase admits, kisses his way back to Luke’s mouth, swallowing whatever Luke was about to say.

 

0---

 

Connor wolf whistles, laughing as a clearing opens up around them.

 

0---

 

“Oh,” Atlas says, “oh.”

 

“Yep, pretty much,” Reefer says. “Have fun with that, you’re a dead man.”

 

“What, now? Already?”

 

“No, but it’s inevitable, really, might as well start getting used to the idea.”

 

“But why?”

 

“Suffice to say,” Reefer says, “there’s a lot you don’t know about Luke.”

 

“No kidding.”

 

0---

 

A return to 2007 Additions.