Over the last 10 months, trekking through an endless array of terrains and climates, water had insinuated its way into Devon Adair’s daily life to the point where she could hardly remember what an unnecessary luxury it had been on the Stations. Here on G889, water was always a concern, whether it was a shortage of drinkable supplies or a cantankerous mining vehicle firmly stuck in eight inches of mud.

Water, and their fundamental dependence on having a constant source of it, did strange things to people here on G889. Devon mused at how its existence could made them feel so safe and secure, so protected that a perfectly…well, a usually restrained man like John Danziger could be possessed to start a water fight. At the same time, a lack thereof was so frightening that even the most perpetually opportunistic, and whiny, member of Eden Advance was stirred to give his half-rations to his wife.

They still had a incredibly long way to go. Water could still very well be the death of them all.

But today was one of those rare occurrences where there was more enough water, enough for every member of Eden advance to drink and bathe their fill. And it was only a few meters away from Devon’s pleasantly warm tent, a natural brook, waiting to wash everything clean. She’d finally even get a chance to wash her hair.

She assumed that both Danziger and herself would take turns keeping an eye on the kids while the other waded out of view to wash, but she couldn’t help hoping that one of the other adults would present the kids with an activity and allow her not only some privacy, but the eyeful that would be a dripping wet, clean shaven mechanic.

Watching the crew’s reaction to the water had always fascinated Devon. She knew it was likely they’d never used water to bathe before in their lives, and real water- the kind that fell from the sky and rushed through the earth in bubbling currents- was unfamiliar and humbling to everyone in the group.

In the rare incidences when they’d encountered a safe body of water, it had become somewhat of a ritual between the women of Eden Advance to stroll by at least once, just for the guilty pleasure of watching John splashing around like a golden retriever. Sure, Walman and the other guys were nothing to squawk at, but when Alonzo bathed he preened and posed until even Julia was rolling her eyes.

Danziger, on the other hand, always bathed in private, and very rarely swam or played with the children away from the shore. Devon knew the unstoppable power of a river or a waterfall, something so utterly dangerous and out of his control, didn’t sit well with him.

That and he probably didn’t know how to swim.

Nevertheless, when it was time for his bath there was nothing quite like the sight of him. He had a curious way of always looking timid and weary of his surroundings, while simultaneously at ease in his body.

That and he had a chest like the hull of an armored hovercraft and the shoulders of Atlas to boot. She highly doubted any of the Eden Advance ladies would be entertaining the kids.

You’d think with all the water, and all, a kid would be fairly itching to get wet.

True absolutely refused to join everyone at the river, adamantly insisting that only god knows what could be swimming in there. Didn’t sound like her at all and Danziger wasn’t buying it for a second. Trouble was, he didn’t have a clue what to do about the matter.

It stirred in Danziger a uneasy dread of impending teenagedom, and the many questions he was the wrong gender to answer. He’d done right by her for the last twelve years, but now she was blossoming into a woman and Danziger knew that soon it wouldn’t matter how good a father he was. She’d need a mother.

Except for times like this, when she was acting like a spoiled baby, and he could made do with a swift kick in the rear.

Without another word, he grabbed both his own and True’s hygiene kits with one hand while the other, casually and with startling accuracy, grabbed on to his daughter’s thick braid and gave her a healthy tug.

“Let’s go, True-Girl. You stink to high heaven. You’re takin’ a bath!” As if to show she wasn’t threatened by his close proximity, she yanked her head back, giving herself just as sharp a tug.

The ball was in his court.

“Fine! Act like a baby, get treated like one,” he declared, hoisting True effortlessly over his shoulder in one fluid motion. He staggered to the flap of the tent, unmindful of her fists pounding on his back.

Devon was raising her hand against the glare of the sun, in the hopes of spotting Uly, when they collided.

Something that was about the size of a Grendler slammed Devon to the dirt, though the cursing and the strangled “Stop. It. Now!” told her differently. She looked up just in time to see Danziger, shirtless and toting his daughter over his shoulder like a sack of flour, loose his balance and list dangerously to the left. She watched, caught between anger and fear, as he tossed the hygiene kits away and pulled True in against his chest, knowingly letting his back take the impact as both father and daughter hit the ground.

“Danziger, what is going on?” She asked, scrambling over to help True untangle herself. She easily lifted the girl’s weight off the winded mechanic. “John, you okay?” She asked, when he didn’t immediately respond.

“Daddy?” True piped up, full of dread. There were no possible ‘pleasant’ outcomes of this situation, and Devon knew True was smart enough to have already figured that out for herself.

“Fine.” He grunted, feebly raising himself into a slouch. “Just got the wind knocked out of me. You okay?” Rubbing a hand across the back of his skull, he looked up at Devon sheepishly.

“I’m fine, not a scratch. You two just caught me by surprise!” She assured him with a nervous laugh. A moment of strained silence ticked by before he took a full breath, simultaneously meeting his daughter’s gaze with a glare that could freeze lava.

"You hurt, True?" He asked in a chillingly deep tone.

"No, Sir." True whispered in response, fingers laced tightly behind her back, elbows akimbo.

“Apologize.”

“I’m sorry Devon!” True burst out even before the last syllable of her father’s quiet demand had left his lips. “I’m really, really sorry!”

“Tell her why.” Growling threateningly, John quickly stood, completely recovered and suddenly more than a little too close to ensure True’s comfort.

“I’m sorry I was fighting with my dad and acting like a baby and made us crash into you,” she pleaded in a rush. She hazarded a quick glance at her father’s stony expression before erupting with platitudes a second time, realizing instantly that he wasn’t anything close to satisfied. “I didn’t mean to knock you over, Devon! And I’m sorry I was being a jerk and made my dad physically drag my behind to the water, because we shouldn’t be horsing around where we could hurt someone…and I should have more respect.”

Devon couldn’t help but smile at her last minute addition. She could easily envision John, diligently coaxing True’s moral compass with words like responsibility, pride, respect.

“I’m fine, Danziger.” She whispered again, as a gentle reminder that there wasn’t much more his errant child could apologize for at the moment.

“Take your bath.” He nearly hummed, a gentle gust of breath across a quivering reed of anger.

True darted to where their bath kits had landed with an explosion of tubes and packets, and only then did Devon realize her own had suffered a similar fate, her meager supplies strewn amongst Danziger’s shaving set and True’s prized collection of hair ties.

Danziger slowly turned himself in a furious circle, in an amusing gesture of frustration that Devon found balletically pugilistic.

She smiled again, realizing she was the only one receptive to the humor of the situation, as she bent to gather her own belongings. True’s prized yellow ribbon, a gift from Bess, zipped past her hands like a colorful snake as True grabbed it quickly. Taking one last look around, the girl took off at a run for the river. Devon glanced at Danziger, who was currently scrubbing at his face with work-roughened hands.

“Be careful, True!” She called, aware that she was probably the only fully functioning parent for the time being. “No climbing on the rocks unless there’s an adult watching you, okay?”

True had made it far enough away with her newly developed, coltish gait that Devon couldn’t actually understand her reply, but her material instincts told her True would be doing exactly as she was told for at least a few weeks, this time around.

“Dev, I’m really sorry.“ Only when they were alone did Danziger speak, quickly kneeling at her side amongst their unmentionables. His tone had completely transformed; there wasn’t a trace of his previous exasperation in his gentle, embarrassed timbre. “The kid’s right, we shouldn’t have been horsing around. Aww, hell!”

Catching her hand in his own, he brushed his thumb across her a hairline scratch on her palm. Pin prick spots of blood had welled through in a few places, and as he wiped it away she felt her hand begin to tingle and sting. Intently studying the muscles working in the divot between his thumb and wrist, she swallowed hard. Maybe the sensation had nothing to do with the scratch.

“It’s nothing, Danziger,“ She assured him, attempting to meet his gaze. The sight of his bare chest startled her as though she’d somehow missed it before, and she quickly returned her sights downward.

“She’s been raising my hackles all morning, I just don’t know what to say about anything these days.” He continued absently, turning his attention to the nail on her index finger, which hadn’t quite survived her tumble. It suddenly occurred to Devon that she was in danger of being intimately exposed by his innocent gesture.

When she’d been only a child, Great Granny Adair had taken Devon’s hands in her own, studying the lines and ridges and spinning tales of riches and happiness and true love. Shivering as though she was suddenly naked, Devon was terrified her hands would betray her. In an effort to act natural, she attempted to keep her tone light and unwavering.

“It’s that age, I guess. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before Uly puts me through my paces.” The air between them seemed suddenly thin, void of all natural motion. She watched, rapt, as he ran the tip of his thumb across the nail, as though his touch could restore the broken ridges, holding her entire hand in the center of his palm.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean to bulldoze ya.” He chuckled breathily, his fingers falling still, suddenly, self consciously.

Startled, she looked up to meet his eyes, and found he was much closer than she supposed. With the tip of his nose not even an inch from her own, she watched his pupils dilate and constrict before he gasped and dropped her hand as though it was searing his skin.

Devon nearly lost her balance, but managed to catch herself. Embarrassed, she quickly subscribed to Danziger’s method of diffusing the situation, which consisted mainly of collecting toiletry supplies like her life depended on it and stuffing them into her kit.

“I’d better find Uly.”
“True shouldn’t be alone.”

Devon wished she could laugh at their overlapping outcries of parental concern, but her insides were still fluttering uneasily. Danziger had already blindly grabbed his belongings and was making a bee line for the water by the time located her hair foam and managed to catch a deep breath.

Her hand raised--chipped nail and all--against the sun once again, she stood to face the water only to find he’d already fled her line of vision.

Danziger thought he was probably losing his mind.

Scrubbing at his gritty hair with frustrated ferocity, he ignored the stinging as a droplet of shampoo suds ran into his eye. What was wrong with him? What on earth would possess him to just sit there…caressing her hand like that? He’d forgotten himself, pure and simple, and the incident had frightened him deeply.

Recently, it had been harder for John to keep his cool in the presence of Devon Adair, and as his emotions ran rampant it seemed his imagination was never far behind. He’d begun noticing things about her he’d just as soon remain blind to, and it was getting to the point where they were becoming all he could see.

He’d caught himself studying the soft curl of her eyelashes in the Nav Tent a few hundred clicks back, startled to find himself lost to the desire to feel them brushing across his lips.

Since that first slip it had been happening more and more often.

The worst thing was, he saw no rhyme or reason to these sudden swellings of lust that plagued him. Hell, she could be right in the middle of chewing him out and he’d discover himself completely focused on the small beauty mark on her collar bone; the chips of sapphire in clear blue eyes; the strain of a shirt button.

On the Roanoke she’d been primped and pressed--perfectly tailored suits and intricate chignons frozen in place. Utterly untouchable. The last few weeks before the unscheduled launch, Danziger would look up to catch her blotting her lips or straightening her collar at the other end of a metal hallway. It had been immensely satisfying for him to witness these little moments of imperfection; but after the third or fourth jacket tug John had grown suspicious.

Though it didn’t make a lick of sense, John began to wonder if this constant primping was taking place for the benefit of his watchful eyes.

Not that he’d been watching.

It was the total abandon of her previous persona that amazed Danziger during these times, when he caught himself watching the curve of her back as she sat slumped with her charts or smiled wide enough for him to count her small, white, perfect teeth. She’d blossomed with the rush of the wind, grown infinitely more beautiful with nothing but the sun painted on her face.

With a derisive snort Danziger dove under the crisp, clear water and furiously shook the lather from his curls. When the hell had he suddenly become such a shankin’ romantic? It scared him to think that the old Devon Adair, President of the Adair Industries that he’d signed his life away to, could ever become such a free, natural woman.

For months he’d subconsciously known that trying to resist his attraction was a loosing battle, but now it seemed his body was no longer willing to look the other way.

Bursting out of the water, he took a deep breath and settled back down until the water was at his chin. He wondered where Devon was bathing, suddenly feeling stupid that he’d purposely stormed nearly a click south east to avoid even the slightest glimpse.

Somewhere, she was wading into the coursing shallows, the wind off the water blowing back her auburn hair.

He’d never seen such a rich shade of red on a woman, and being a man of certain taste he’d chased after many a redhead in his day. He flexed his left ‘hook’ reflexively, musing for a moment over the fresh-paint longing that still stirred at the resurrected memory of Corrine’s strawberry curls, bitter that the damn virus couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Elle’s hair had been luminous, the color of a pale flame, a yellow star glowing with crimson heat. Just the sight of her made him think of caution signs; it made him taste chili power on his tongue and raised the hair on his arms. Even after years together, just being in the same room with her would cause him to ignite. There was absolutely no subtlety in their attraction, because they didn’t give a shank about anyone, or anything, but themselves.

Devon was a different kind of redhead all together; more mysterious, Devon’s particular shade of red was that of a woman who kept secrets; secrets she would probably never tell, but that she wanted you to know she had. It was meticulous, modest but sensual, and it had slowly but surely glowed its Danziger’s thoughts like an obsession.

Danziger dunked himself again, blowing exasperated bubbled out of his nose. Damnit all, he still didn’t quite know just who Devon Adair was. And he was already falling in love with her.

Shit.

He was starting to question his taste in women.

Maybe he should abandon this whole pursuit all together and take up with a nice, bubbly brunette with wild curls and a miserable husband how didn‘t appreciate how beautiful she was. That girl…he wanted something better for her. She was so intuitive and smart, so full of spirit despite that moron’s attempts to crush it. She was one of his favorite people in the entire universe, and Danziger wanted her to be happy.

Still, he’d known from the instant he’d met her that he didn’t deserve Bess anymore than Martin did.

Maybe a blond with a brilliant mind who was beginning to regret overlooking intellect for looks in choosing a bunk mate. Lonz was a great guy, and he was a kick ass pilot, but he wasn’t much of a conversational companion.

Breaking the surface, Danziger shook his head furiously and scoffed at the idea that anyone could be Julia’s intellectual equal. She’d figured that out for herself long ago, when she realized she’d have to spend her life settling for appeal rather than substance, but she’d confided in John that it wasn’t really knowledge that mattered so much to her.

John had been out scouting with Julia one day, heatedly debating for the zillionth time the intellect of Grendlers. Julia had been adamantly insisting that it was their ability to learn that made them intelligent, not what they didn’t already know, when he less-than-tactfully stated they’d already met several Grendler’s that were smarter than Alonzo.

It wasn’t something for which he was particularly proud, but he’d just lost a bet with Walman- via gear- because Lonz had quoted him the wrong odds. Fly Boy deserved a little payback, and Julia deserved a chance to crack a smile every once in a while.

Danziger hadn’t expected her to readily agree. He’d thought it might be true love, for a minute there, and it had been the moment he’d completely regained his trust in her.

Taking wide strides, John savored the rush of the water for a few more minutes, trying to shake himself of these constant amorous thoughts. He supposed if anything, at least he’d proven his own theory false.

Elle and Devon might have shared the same damn hair color, but there was no mistaking his two women for each other in many more ways than hue. He was constantly looking for one woman where he would only find another; and it wasn’t just them! It was Gwen in boot camp, Corrine, it was Alex, it was his shankin’ mother…

Swinging his arms wide, he dove against the current, stronger this far away from camp, and tried to shake the last vestiges of shampoo, and women, from his hair and mind.

Or to at least focus on one.

The sun was beginning to set, and Danziger decided he’d better be getting back to camp, but the colors in the sky were so relaxing that he meandered toward the bank, observing the nature around him.

Sometimes when the light was just right, Devon’s hair would shine as if it had caught fire. If he was lucky enough to be close to her, he could see a glowing ruby halo on the crown of her head. At times like these, Danziger would admit quietly to himself, for just a few moments, that he was in love with her.

A shiver ran through him, and he figured he’s just as soon be getting back to his hormonal bundle of joy. He wanted to reconcile peaceably, realizing that perhaps his own emotional imbalance regarding Devon was contributing to the recently chilly climate in the Danziger tent. Also, he figured that was a reasonable excuse enough to hide from Adair for a few hours.

He would completely erase the entire incident with the collision from his mind. As long as he didn’t let himself think about her slender, fragile hands he’d be fine. He would just ignore the memory of how soft they'd felt against his own rough skin. The way her fist fit perfectly in his palm. The oval finger nails, perfect until this morning, and how they would feel scratching a pattern down the hollow of his back.

Glancing around to make sure no one had wandered this far from camp, he eased his way back into the deeper water. On second thought, Danziger decided he’d better not get out of the water just yet.

Devon was flustered.

After Danziger had stormed off, she’d decided it was best that she take the first lifeguard shift and make sure the kids weren’t getting into too much trouble.

Or herself, for that matter.

She’d been about thirty seconds from winding her fingers through the hairs on John’s chest, for God’s sake! What the hell was the matter her?

Immensely grateful for the distraction, she instead found her son and True fashioning nets with Walman, who was teaching how to make the special knots. Uly informed her hurriedly that they were going to try to catch different species of aquatic life, and that they could save the nets to fish in the Sea of Antius.

Devon didn’t have the heart to tell him that Julia’s bio-scans had shown no significant signs of life, and that the stream was most likely a new tributary made by the torrential rains they’d had the month before. She also didn’t have the heart to slight Walman, who was clearly trying to give the parents of Eden Advance a break.

She wanted to find Danziger, so she’d been wandering around for the past fifteen minutes doing a fairly convincing impersonation of someone who was desperately trying to avoid the man. She couldn’t really decide which she was actually doing, so she decided she should probably actually take a bath.

But she wanted company.

She backtracked until she found the copse where she’d been alerted Bess was hiding, using Morgan’s straight razor to shave her legs while he wasn’t around to have a tantrum. Bess had moved on with the beauty régime and was currently smearing clay from some red rock across her forehead and nose.

Before Devon could even speak, Bess sighed loudly at the sight of gave a rueful look.

“Apparently Danziger wants to be alone. It’s a shame, really.” The Earth-Res announced coolly, with mock indignation. “You couldn’t wait until after his bath to start fighting? Julia and I have been looking forward to watching him shake dry all morning.”

Devon rolled her eyes indulgently at her friend, musing that no one but Bess could open with such a bold statement. She had to admit she wouldn’t want Bess to act any other way. Sometimes she was blunt as a spoon, but she was usually right on the money.

Watching John towel off truly was a sight to behold.

“He’s been having some trouble with True.” Devon didn’t miss a beat as she told her lie of omission. She was still shaken by Danziger’s unguarded moment, but there wasn’t a chance on the planet that she’d let Bess get wind of it.

It didn’t mean anything.

“It’s just her age.” Bess announced assuredly. “John will get used to having a hot headed teenager in time. The best fathers always do.” She rinsed her hands and began doing some laundry while her masque worked it’s magic.

“They nearly bowled me over on the way to the water. True didn’t want to take her bath…" She'd yet to consider the reason True was making such a fuss, and now that she had the reason was clear. "I think her body’s starting to change and she doesn’t know what’s happening. Danziger doesn’t look like the type who’s willing to discuss the birds and the bees.”

Bess snorted, “Devon, I’m sure that under certain circumstances John would be more than willing to elaborate on the birds and the bees,” giving her friend an indulgent wink.

Devon took out her mirror and began use one of Julia’s Micro-Mends to pluck out a few stray hairs on her brow. She wanted some sort of banal routine to shield the blush on her cheeks from Bess; to keep her from looking like she was paying attention.

“Oh please, Bess, it needs no elaboration. Especially from Danziger, of all people.” She tried to bluff, studying the wrinkles around her mouth. Getting older every day.

“Well I’ll have a little chat with True, if you’ll admit you’re just flustered because something happened between you and John this morning. Even though I’m not so sure what it was, I do have the facts, Devon. One: You’re trying to hide from me because your blushing. I’m not blind. Two: What ever went on, it happened while he was not wearing a shirt. Cause for suspicion right off the bat. And Three…look at you Devon, you’re primping! You’re using surgical equipment to shape your eyebrows. Which is a great idea by the way.” She concluded, coming closer to get a look.

“Alonzo tipped me off, pinnacle of personal grooming that he is. Speaking of, why aren‘t you out there watching him towel dry?” Devon teased, dipping her finger experimentally in Bess’ facial clay.

“Because it’s just too…feminine! I mean, look at us, we’re stranded on this planet acting like it’s the end of the world that we don’t have hair dryers and Dermabrators! We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere on an unpopulated planet and I’m still shaving my legs. I hate shaving my legs, and yet I’m still self-conscious!” Devon sat amusedly while Bess whipped herself up into a lather.

The Bath had become her soapbox.

“Every one of us here is self-conscious about something! Look at Cameron and his chapped lips, or Mazatl and that disgusting Grendler spit hair gel concoction that he and Alonzo use! Walman shaves his chest, for God’s sake! Watching all of us take a bath is just…silly.”

Grabbing a hairbrush, Bess began to tackle the tangles in her hair with a dangerously far away look in her eyes. Devon was fairly certain she wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

Or that she’d like it too much.

“But on the other hand, you have John Danziger. A giant, rugged, deliciously physically fit specimen of a man, who doesn’t gel his hair or pluck his eyebrows. In fact, he usually refuses to shave and thinks that getting his hair wet counts as washing it! He wouldn’t care less if he woke up in another body tomorrow morning- and for all of this, he’s just so damn appealing.”

Devon wanted her to stop, but to comment would free her of the tenuous control she had over he warring emotions, so instead she ducked beneath the water, which was absolutely freezing.

Instantly regretting her decision she popped back up, wiping her eyes to see Bess standing there with her hands on her hips, her long wet hair making her look like an angry mermaid.

“I waited. And for all this he is just so damn appealing. Because even though he gets very dirty, on rare and special occasions he gets very clean. It’s like watching Tarzan do a strip tease, and you- the only one who can take advantage of the situation- have ruined it for the rest of us!” Finished with her rant, Bess plunged dramatically under the water.

The last thing Devon needed to be reminded of her opportunities to ‘take advantage of the situation,’ as Bess called it.


It scared her to think she’d somehow overlooked the fact that she’d been primping for Danziger’s sake these months, but having Bess spell it out like that made it pretty much impossible to ignore. So what she wanted John to find her physically attractive, or at the very least wanted him to imagine that she could be, it wasn’t a crime. She could never be as carefree about her appearance as he was.

Every woman deserved at least one beauty secret.

When Bess reemerged fresh-faced, it was Devon’s turn to be ready with a rebuttal. “First of all, I don’t primp! Personal hygiene is not primping! And I’m sorry that you feel I’ve done something to deprive you of--”

“Oh Devon, stop being so sensitive. You know I’m only fooling with you, I’m a married woman! I have no business invading the big oaf’s privacy in the first place. But you’re sitting on top of a gold mine and you’re too afraid to start digging!” Bess strode out of the water, jumping a little in the cold as she wrapped a towel around herself. “He obviously does things to you, Devon. And since it’s been ridiculously clear lately that John feels the same, it’s pointless to resist temptation. Especially when he‘s squeaky clean.”

Tying her hair up with another towel, she grabbed her hygiene pack and Morgan’s shaving kit.

“No one ever feels the same, Bess, that’s the problem. Two people might share feelings for one another, but it doesn’t mean they can predict what the other is experiencing. I’ll admit he’s been a bit…sexually charged lately, but you know John! He’s…” she trailed off, unable to choose the right word.

“Tarzan?” Bess supplied with a grin, beginning the walk back to camp. Behind her Devon was trying to get the last word in, as always.

“No! It’s just that I’m…”

Shaking her head, Bess just kept on walking, calling out over her shoulder:

"Jane?"

As John made his way back into camp, shaking his head to dislodge some water trapped in his right ear, he was assaulted with a high pitched squeal from where the kids were playing up around the bend. His Daddy Sense immediately told him that it was a happy shriek, and that True wasn’t off sulking somewhere in a puddle, but was otherwise engaged in something fun. Fun was good. Fun would buy him at least twenty minutes to catch a cat nap.

The second he rounded the bend, however, he found hid daughter barreling straight for him, presumably with Uly in pursuit.

“You can’t splash me if you can’t ca--” Catching sight of her father striding towards her, True stopped dead in her tracks with a look of total dread on her face.

A look that quickly turned to panic.

“Daddy?” She asked quietly, meekly questioning as he arrived at her side.

“What is it, Sport? What’s up?” He asked, hoping they had moved past their argument and subsequent tumble.

“Your…um...” True stammered, seemingly at a loss for words. She was just staring at him, dead in the face, pale as ashes. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she finished in a whisper.

“What is it, True? I know you’re sorry, Honey, I‘m not still mad at you.” With his gentle confession he took a step forward to embrace his daughter.

She backed up as though he was a monster, a look of violent dread spreading over her face.

“Yes you are, Daddy.” She warned him with trepidation. Without another word she turned and sprinted for their tent, passing Uly and the other befuddled crewmembers on the way.

“What the hell is goin’ on over here?” Danziger called out as he approached them. “Lonz? Hey, Walman! If you guys are watchin’ my kid, why is she actin’ like she’s seen a ghost?”

As he drew closer, he saw True wasn’t the only member of Eden Advance that was acting oddly. At the sight of him Cameron dunked his head under the water, and it seemed like he was considering not coming up for air. Walman quickly covered his mouth, but Alonzo and Uly burst out laughing almost instantly.

What the hell was going on?

“What’s so funny?” He asked, more than a little annoyed at their laughter. Every member of this damn group was on his last nerve.

“Oh my God…oh my God, I have never seen anything so amazing in my life.” Alonzo guffawed, bent double with laughter, leaning on Walman for support, who was already on his knees in hysterics. “Uly! Go get Julia!”

As Uly ran off excitedly, giggling like a chimpanzee, Danziger stormed over to the two men with his hands balled into fists.

“Okay, you shankin’ idiots, pull it together and tell me what the hell is goin’ on!” He demanded, running a hand angrily through his dripping hair. Walman flopped over onto his side, laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. “Damnit, Walman, this isn’t funny? What’s wrong with True, why's she actin' like she’s scared of me?”

“Oh my GOD!” Came a feminine shriek, And Danziger turned to see Julia, staring at him with a look of sheer astonishment.

“Julia, what they hell is wrong with all of you?” He asked exasperatedly, his frown deepening when she found herself unable to hold back her own laughter.

“You guys are so busted! Oh wow, this is priceless, this is…” she trailed off with a chortle, the sight of Alonzo and Walman clearly contagious.

“Who is? What are you talking about? Julia, please!” He begged, catching her by the arm. She didn't seem able to breathe at the moment, never mind talk.

“So what do we call you now, Chief?” Walman stammered giddily, “John Adair? Devon Danziger?”

“No..no..wait!” Alonzo panted, “DEVONZIGER!” He erupted, pounding his hand on the ground in satisfaction.

“You’re gonna want to go find a mirror, John.” Julia gasped unhelpfully, with obvious relish. “And then you’re gonna want to find Devon and get your stories straight.” Loosing it again, she stumbled over to collapse in a heap by the two men.

Stomping angrily towards his tent, not sure he even wanted to see what the mirror held in store, Danziger passed Bess lying out wet clothes on a large flat rock to dry overnight. She glanced up from her work and did a double take, but knew better that to speak as John raised a hand to silence her as he stormed past.

“Don’t. Even.” He ground out, biting back a curse at the inevitable sound of amusement that followed in his wake.

“What’s so funny, you guys?” Devon asked as she returned to find a huddled mass of giggling Edenites lounging in the grass.

“The jig is up, Devon!” Walman announced with delight. “Did you do it on purpose to mess with him, or is this just you way of accidentally announcing to the group that you’ve been washing Danziger’s back.”

Alonzo lost it again, cackling like a hyena.

Glancing around, seeing no evidence of John Danziger anywhere, she frowned in embarrassment, even though she was pretty damn sure she’d done nothing to be embarrassed about.

“What are you guys talking about? I was just at the copse to the north with Bess--”

“Oh sure, sure…you were with Bess…” Alonzo choked out, his legs drawn up to his chest like a dog playing dead.

“She was with me!” Bess called out as she rushed over to join them, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. “I don’t know quite know how to explain how John got his little-” she barked out a quick laugh, “makeover, but it wasn’t with Devon.”

Stopping at Devon’s side with an evil glint in her eye, Bess leaned in conspiratorially. “You might want to go find Danziger, Devon. It looks as though there’s been, um…technical difficulties. Tarzan‘s looking more like…Zorro.”

Devon stared at her uncomprehendingly, fighting back a nervous chuckle of her own. What ever they were all going on about, it didn’t bode well. At all.

“Looks like you didn’t get a chance to primp after all.” She added smugly, but Devon had already taken off at a run to find Danziger before Bess could properly administer her look of triumph.

Devon hadn’t made it past the Med Tent when she realized that something was seriously wrong. When Danziger was angry about something, she didn’t usually have to do much looking to find him pointing a finger at her face and shouting like a lunatic. At the very least, she should be able to hear his displeasure from a mile away.

Reaching the tents, she scanned for him, figuring he was probably in his tent. Devon realized that most of the group was down at the water, but camp seemed unnaturally quiet, like John's mood was so foul he'd managed to scare away nature. Still, as hesitant as she was to speak up, she certainly wasn’t going to barge into his tent without announcing herself.

He might be missing more than his shirt.

Leaning downwards to call through the flap, Devon was startled to hear him shout her name from what seemed inches away from her face, and even more startled to see him burst out of the tent in front of her, colliding with her for the second time that day.

He tried to catch her, but his balance never stood a chance, and before she knew it, Devon found herself on the ground again, with a shirtless Danziger again, except this time she was pinned beneath him, and he was angry because…oh.

She couldn’t believe it.

Here they were. Nose to nose, but all the amusement was gone. Devon’s mind reeled back to the first crash they’d shared that day. Not to John’s chest and eyes and hands, which she could feel were all present and accounted for, but to an embarrassed Danziger on his hands and knees, grabbing at any bottle or soap or shampoo he could get his hands on.

Of course he wasn’t paying attention, and neither was she, exactly, but you’d think one of them would have noticed! Didn’t he check the damn tube?

It turned out Bess was right. Danziger really didn’t give a damn how he looked.

Until now.

“You’re hair is…red.” Devon informed him quietly.

To be fair, his hair was actually ‘Crimson Twilight’, or the closest approximation of the shade that Julia was able to concoct with her molecular oscillator. Not that Devon would ever admit in a court of Council Law that her hair was anything but one hundred percent natural.

“And yours, I take it, is not.” John retorted stonily, not budging even the slightest inch from where he had her trapped on the ground.

The amusement was back.

The more Devon watched Danziger physically tried to control his anger, the more funny the entire thing became. He looked so utterly ridiculous that Devon suddenly realized that she'd been blind to the obvious, that no one in their right mind would ever be fooled into thinking that her signature shade was natural. Yet strangely, from the vague sense of disappointment lingering behind the menace in his eyes, it was apparent that John Danziger- of ALL people- truly had.

This whole day had been so ironic and absurd that Devon knew she was about to loose her composure, and when a rust colored drop leapt from one of his curls and landed smack in the middle of her forehead, Devon lost the battle.

“You’re laughing!” Danziger exclaimed, his anger loosening a lock of hair that had been tucked behind his ear. It swung in front of his face and he swatted it away in disgust, and Devon’s laughter grew louder still. "It's not funny, Lady! I look like a woman!"

She hadn't laughed so hard since arriving on G889, and Devon felt an enormous tension melting away. It bubbled out of her, blurring the sight of Danziger's irate expression with tears of glee; humming where the muscles on her belly vibrated against his bare skin.

“Damnit, Adair, stop laughing! Please..." He growled again, gripping her shoulder, his tone of voice changing, growing softer and more panicked, like he was about to lose his mind.

Devon couldn't help it, she howled again.

"Damnit, just shut up!”

This time he didn’t sound worried at all, but deadly serious, and before she could even attempt to compose herself, he launched towards her, catching her mouth with his own, silencing her instantly with a firm kiss.

Startled, the sound cut off with a little squeak, and- compromised as their position was- Devon could feel John’s anger transforming into lust. The hand that had caught her shoulder so firmly was melting up the side of her neck and into her hair, and his hard chest was a delicious weight, not too heavy, but insistent. Purposeful.

Snaking her hand across his smooth, bare ribcage, she tugged on the back of his head, deepening the kiss almost involuntarily, sighing as he shifted his legs from where they were tangled with her own. Danziger’s strong calves brushing against her bare feet where his cuff had ridden up, and they were fabulously firm, and warm. His mouth trailed down her chin to her throat, where he dropped butterfly kisses, punctuated with words whispered in a husky, sexy tone Devon had never heard him use before.

“I feel like….a fool….” She let out a small gasp as he found her clavicle. “Are you satisfied?” He moved his hips just the slightest bit, making it clear that he, for one, was nothing of the sort.

“I like it.” She breathed, not entirely sure what she herself meant by ‘it,’ catching his mouth as it traveled past her on the way to her opposite earlobe, where he nipped her roughly.

“Of course you do.” He reminded her sardonically, and despite her own confusion at the feelings sluicing over her, Devon had no doubt that John wasn’t referring to the dye job.

His wandering hand had deftly found it’s way inside the hem of her shirt.

“How do I…wash this out?” He inquired lazily, his teeth tugging at the second button of her shirt. They were lying on the ground in the middle of camp, for Christ’s sake, and Devon found she didn’t even give a damn. Danziger was overwhelming her, enveloping her, and with her eyes shut against the crimson glare she wasn’t even sure what he was asking until she cracked an eyelid, fighting off another fit of giggles.

Trying to soften the blow, she tugged on the offending hair until his lips found hers again, and with her hot breath mingling with his own, she broke the news. “It’s a molecular bonding agent…” she sighed as his tongue lapped across her bottom lip. “I‘d give it a good year.”

Danziger pulled away as if she’d bitten his lip, boring a hole into her gaze when her eyelids fluttered lazily open.

“Tell me you’re not serious.” At his whiny tone, Devon felt it again, the laughter that had gotten the best out of Walman and Alonzo. She knew he was furious with her for laughing, but she didn’t think she’d be able to hold it back for much longer.

“I’m sure that Julia will be able to figure something out.” She spoke slowly, breathing deeply. Sighing, Danziger’s head tumbled forward to rest wearily on her chest, and Devon ran her fingers through his tinted mane again, “C’mon, stop being so sensitive.”

He sighed again, dramatically, mumbling under his breath. To Devon, it sounded suspiciously as though he’d said “it’s like kissing my sister,” and she was off to the races, laughing until their were tears in her eyes again.

Growling in annoyance, he vaulted himself off of the ground, leaning down to coax her into a seated position even as she slumped forward, grabbing her stomach with glee.

“Sure, that‘s great, just keep on laughin,’ Devon!” He admonished her loudly, storming off to find Julia.

Something had changed, though, Devon could feel it in the air, and despite the fact that John was storming around like King Kong, she could sense that he was maybe, just maybe, beginning to see the humor of the situation.

It might have been the fact that he’d gotten to second base.

”I’m sorry! I’ll st-st-stop!” She eeked out the platitude between rounds hiccupping snickers.

“It could have been the start of a beautiful relationship, Adair! You blew it! Laugh it up!” He called back, teasing harder, trying to disguise a chuckle of his own.

Devon fell back to the earth, folding her arms behind her head. If he had experienced anything close to what she’d felt with his lips pressed against hers, she knew it wouldn’t be long until he was laughing, too. She was positively giddy.

“Danziger, get back here!” She called, almost clear across camp now. She knew the others could probably hear her, but under the circumstances she figured it probably didn’t matter. Besides, now that Danziger was fretting over his hair color, she felt surprisingly uninhibited. It wouldn’t be long before her last application faded completely, but rather than embarrassed, she felt somehow free. It felt right, now that the cat was out of the bag, that she revisit her chocolate colored roots, so to speak. And as long as John‘s messy curls remained russet, she highly doubted she would be the target of the group’s ridicule.

Devon couldn’t help it, she was laughing again.

“Just come back here for one second!” She tried again, louder. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

Why was she wasting time worrying about what everyone else thought of her? She had nothing to prove, and she certainly had nothing to lose, and now she had proof that John shared similar feelings for her. Devon didn’t care if Alonzo laughed at she and John’s mix up until his spleen ruptured, because Bess had been absolutely on the money, as always.

If she didn’t know better, Devon would say he might actually feel the same way she did.

“Sorry Adair!” He shouted back, his voice full of humor now, and that singular, biting sarcasm she’d somehow come to love. “I only date redheads!”