A Virtue Of Necessity by Allison McDonnell

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Sometimes it wasn't easy to be John Danziger's friend.

And sometimes Devon wondered when and why his friendship had become so important to her. The only thing that she could ever really be sure of was that it was much too valuable to lose.

More than two hours had passed since she'd made her swift exit from the evening campfire. She'd spent most of that time blankly staring at the very same topography maps that she'd abandoned earlier in the afternoon, and was no closer to routing the next day's course of travel than before. She'd found it impossible to concentrate and was more than a little shocked at how little she suddenly cared about completing the task at hand. Instead, Devon was all but consumed with thoughts of her obviously troubled friend.

Sometimes, it was beyond frustrating that John Danziger could wield this power over her. Not only was her current concern for him preventing her from attending to important work, but over the past months, the mechanic had somehow managed to induce her to reprioritize her life and had influenced her outlook to such a large degree that she now viewed the world around her with different eyes. And all of this had been accomplished seemingly without his knowledge or intent.

Occasionally, Devon longed for the simpler days when she'd possessed the ability to shut out everything but being a good mother to Uly and focusing on the mission to successfully colonize G889. She wondered if perhaps her near death experience and the five days that she'd spent in coldsleep could also be a factor in remolding her point of view, but had to inwardly admit that she'd begun to change long before that. It most likely had started those first few days after the crash-landing; around the time that Danziger had given her her first of many reality checks by suggesting that the group vote on whether or not to continue onward to New Pacifica.

Devon roughly ran her fingers through her auburn hair in exasperation, determined to discover the origin of John's earlier outburst and subsequent retreat. What had been said to prompt such a negative reaction? In the leader's mind, it simply didn't make sense.

Why had John been so adverse to hearing about what a great parent he was? Did he not trust in his abilities as a father? Was there a part of him that believed that he had failed True in some way? Devon couldn't imagine how he could possibly have any doubts. After all, she certainly didn't. In fact, her faith in John was so implicit that she'd asked him to take over her role as parent to Uly when she'd fallen ill. In her mind, not only was it the right choice, it was the only choice. She was gratified to know that, had she not recovered, under John's influence, her son would have been raised in a stable family filled with unyielding love and support. Uly would have grown up to become an honorable man. Just like Danziger.

No, the conversation had derailed a bit earlier than that, she reflected. As a matter of fact, the downward spiral seemed to commence at the first suggestion of having more children. Perhaps that was were the problem lay. But why?

Could it be that their discussion had somehow reminded John of his meager background before Eden Project and of the heavy burden he'd shouldered bringing up True in such a desperate, often dangerous, environment? Devon knew that she could never fully appreciate what it must have been like to live one's life trapped within the grips of the Quadrant's cycle of poverty. Though John had generally remained closed-mouthed about his own experiences, over the past months, as Magus and many of the other members of the Ops crew had begun to feel more at ease, they'd shared several tales with Devon about their prior lives back on the Stations. There was always a tinge of sadness to their voices as they'd soberly relayed that staying afloat on an Immigrant Worker's salary was difficult enough without adding the strain of dependents into the mix.

Children were expected to join the workforce just as soon as they were able. Gaining a higher education was typically considered a worthless pursuit. After all, what was the point? Quadrant life was about survival: keeping a roof over your head; learning to ignore hunger pains along with the other foreboding signs of malnutrition; staying out of trouble and remaining under the bureaucratic radar as much as possible; being grateful for what you had at the moment, but living in abject fear of what you were going to do when your current contract was up. And as bad as it already was, for those who had taken on the responsibility of caring for a child, that anxiety increased at least a hundred fold.

The government openly frowned upon Immigrant Workers bearing more than one child per household because it was considered a drain on Station resources. However, they also all but officially endorsed that those very same people produce a single offspring who would eventually take over the commitment of their family's "Passage Payments" after the deaths of the descendants currently bound to repaying the outstanding balance.

Devon had always been disgusted by Inherited Debt Laws which were based upon nothing more than birthright and, over the years, she'd used her money and influence in an effort to change these practices. She'd hired an entire staff of lobbyists and had gone so far as to publicly speak out in favor of abolishing the policies and absolving the remaining families of their debt; moves which had ended up costing her several friends and branding her as somewhat of a troublemaker in many eyes.

While she wasn't entirely successful, her crusade was enough to compel the government to slash the interest rates of the standard indentured payment plan almost in half as well as to institute a cap on late fees. And one of the true feathers in Devon's cap was when she'd forced a halt to one of the cornerstones of the Inherited Debt program which had used DNA to track down the nearest relative whenever a direct descendant didn't exist. No longer could a second cousin or a grandnephew suddenly have the debt of a person whom they'd never met and sometimes had never even heard of, thrust upon them and be expected to bear their unpaid expenses in addition to their own already insurmountable familial obligations. Now, thanks to Devon and her compatriots, whenever an Immigrant Worker died leaving no direct family members, the government classified the balance as uncollectible.

Although Devon wished that she could have done more, she was extremely proud of what she had been able to achieve. Several times, she'd considered bringing up these particular accomplishments to Danziger, but there never seemed to be the right moment. Plus, she'd doubted that he would have been all that impressed or appreciative. If anything, such talk would have proved divisive in nature, serving as a blatant reminder of their differences and overshadowing the many attributes which they'd had in common. That was the last thing she'd wanted to do.

Devon wished that Danziger would be more open about his life before G889. If she had been more familiar with his past, the two of them very likely wouldn't be stuck in their current situation. As such, she could only do her best to reconcile what little knew about him and then hypothesize as to how a few innocent remarks about parenthood could cause him such unhappiness.

Perhaps his distress had less to do with his role as a father and more to do with the absence of a mother in True's life. Devon's stomach involuntarily twisted itself into a knot. She wasn't supposed to even know the name Eleanor Moore. And she certainly wasn't supposed to be familiar with the details surrounding the woman's tragic and untimely demise. It had been Bess' concern over True which had initially prompted their fact finding mission to uncover whatever information could be found on her biological mother. And, truth be told, Devon had been plenty worried about John as well, especially after she'd learned the specifics of Eleanor's senseless accident and of his terrible loss. So much so, that she'd secretly continued her search through Station records for additional answers long after the effects of Dell Curry's dreams had faded from their minds.

Even now, Devon barely knew anything about Danziger's relationship with Eleanor Moore, aside from the knowledge that they'd lived and worked together for several years, were unmarried, and, unbeknownst to John, she'd been pregnant with his child at the time of her death. Devon hesitated to use the term 'death,' because Eleanor was still there in body, if not in spirit. She inwardly questioned as to what John believed her current condition to be. Did he consider the mother of his child to be dead, or simply in some form of stasis? WAS she truly dead?

Devon wondered if, since that fateful accident, John's heart had also been placed in a similar sort of emotional holding pattern; not dead, but not really alive either. Had he allowed himself to become involved with any other women, or did any and all roads eventually lead back to Eleanor Moore, no matter how much time had passed or how much his life had changed?

Moreover, had Danziger gone to the trouble and great expense of placing Eleanor into coldsleep before he'd embarked for G889, expecting her to still be there for him when he'd returned to the Stations? Could the majority of the salary that John had earned as Ops Captain of The Eden Project have been earmarked for the costly S.T.I.M. program so that True could finally meet a small part of the woman Eleanor once was? Or would the S.T.I.M. program have been enacted for Danziger's own benefit in order for him to at last be reunited with a piece of the woman he'd loved?

Could the unusually long length of the journey to and from a distant planet have been the main reason that he'd so actively pursued the contract to join The Eden Project in the first place? Had he put his own life and the life of his daughter on hold in the desperate gamble that, during the forty-four years which passed between their departure and eventual homecoming, medical technology would have advanced enough to enable the Station doctors to restore Eleanor's brain to its prior state?

Devon shuddered in horror as she realized, for the first time, how much the impact of crash-landing onto G889 might have affected Danziger's long-term plans. Now that he was trapped planetside, his overall timeline for a return to the Stations had been pushed back by at least two years. What if Eleanor's neurostasis payments hadn't been paid up that far and were permitted to lapse? At that very moment, John could be dealing with the overwhelming grief that, due to circumstances beyond his control, he was going to lose Eleanor Moore all over again. And there was absolutely nothing that he could do to stop it.

The idea that John could be living in such anguish caused a swelling of tears in Devon's eyes. How she wished that he'd share what was currently going on inside of him. She wondered if he would ever feel comfortable enough to do so.

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By the time another two hours had crawled by, Devon had completely given up on her maps. However, she was more successful in coming to two other decisions.

Firstly, although she'd hoped that Danziger would quickly choose to return to them in the physical and emotional sense, if he'd felt the need to prolong his self-imposed exile, Devon was going to fully support him by giving him the space that he'd apparently needed; at least, for a day or two. She strongly believed that allowing John's reclusive behavior to go on for too long would only allow feelings to fester, encourage further conflict and quite possibly endanger group morale. As much as Devon sympathized with Danziger's desire for privacy, she needed to remain focused on the big picture, and that was keeping the members of Eden Advance working together as a cohesive unit as well as staying as close to their travel schedule as possible.

And secondly, she fully recognized that her mind remained in a state of overdrive and there was absolutely no chance whatsoever that she would be able to fall asleep for the next several hours. As such, she decided to relieve Mazatl of his post and finish the rest of his shift. After all, there was no reason for both of them to stay awake all night.

She cautiously made her way across camp and approached the crewman slowly, so as not to startle him. But as she drew closer to the remnants of the fire, her heart jumped into her throat when she realized that the silhouette of the man framed by the flickering glow was decidedly larger than expected. She rounded the crate on which he was seated to view Danziger slumped forward with his elbows resting on his thighs, the barrel of his mag-pro delicately balancing against the outside of his right leg. He obviously hadn't heard her arrival and continued to stare off into space. In Devon's eyes, even in the diffused light, the lines of John's brow appeared more defined than usual, as if he'd been frowning or deep in introspection. For a moment, she'd considered backing away and leaving him to his thoughts, but before she could make a final choice, Danziger made it for her as he snapped to attention, straightening his posture and rotating toward her to view her head-on. His blue eyes pierced through the semidarkness, studying her and absorbing all that he could from her expression, yet providing no hints of what might be simmering beneath his own seemingly impenetrable exterior.

Devon was caught completely off-guard. "I was expecting Mazatl," she relayed rather uncomfortably.

There wasn't the slightest flinch from the other side of the campfire. "I sent him to bed," came the flat reply. After a lengthy pause, he added, "You should be in bed, too. Got an early day tomorrow."

"I'm not tired," she said as she hesitantly ventured a few steps closer. Another few awkward moments of stillness passed between them before she at last offered, "If you'd like, I can take over from here. That way, you can get some rest."

There was a mild shake of his head. "No thanks. I'll stick where I'm at, for now," Danziger responded, his voice and eye contact unwavering.

Not really sure as to what to say or even where to go at that point, Devon did her best to make a clean break. "Okay, then," she exclaimed, taking a few paces backward. "I'll see you in the morning."

The mechanic subtly nodded his acknowledgment before finally averting his eyes back toward the fire.

Devon turned and took several steps in the general direction of her tent, but she only made it a few feet before her conflicted feelings compelled her to halt mid-stride. She knew that it would probably be best if she'd just left Danziger alone. And she also knew that she was very likely going to regret what she was about to do. But in the end, she just couldn't help herself.

"John, I honestly have no idea why you're so angry with me right now," she expressed, slowly rotating to address his back. "But whatever I did to upset or offend you, I apologize."

Danziger continued to face the fire while she plodded forward as calmly as she could. "You know, you and I have seen each other almost every day for over a year now, and I consider you to be my friend; one of the best friends that I've ever had. But there are times that I feel like the two of us are practically strangers," she said with a sad shrug. "You can be extremely difficult to read and, a lot of the time, I don't know where I stand with you."

Devon was surprised that Danziger made no attempt to respond to her declaration, although it was hard to miss his physical reaction which entailed the steady dropping of his shoulders and his line of sight practically nose-diving to the ground directly in front of him.

"What I said to you this afternoon was meant as a compliment," the leader forged ahead in a heartfelt tone as she took the final few steps to enable her to stand directly behind him. She lowered her voice, but not the intensity of the emotion as she added, "I think that you are one of the best parents that I have ever met and True is one extremely lucky little girl to have you as her father. What I was trying to say to you was that, someday, you'll make a great father to more children."

Danziger let out a heavy exhalation, never veering his gaze from his feet. "That's not gonna happen," came the barely audible, and much too even, reply.

As much as she was perplexed by Danziger's odd disposition, she was overjoyed that he had finally decided to rejoin the conversation in progress. She chose her words carefully, doing her very best not to come across as challenging in nature.

"John," she said with the hint of a good-natured smile. "I'll admit that you're no spring chicken. Neither am I, for that matter. But you're certainly still young enough to-"

"Adair," he cut in, clearly trying to steady his breathing through gritted teeth. An extended period of silence followed, as if both were waiting for the other to talk. "Take a seat," he finally directed, his voice more assertive, but still barely above a murmur.

When Devon remained rooted in place, inwardly questioning whether she'd heard him correctly, John turned his head sideways to address her. Although much of his face remained hidden in the shadows as well as by dirty blond strands of hair, she could easily discern the clenching and unclenching of his jaw.

"Sit down."

She did as she was asked and chose to seat herself on an overturned crate placed directly next to him, while Danziger carefully laid the mag-pro on the ground on the opposite side. Once they were situated, he slowly remet her gaze. Though his expression remained frozen in oft-practiced apathy, there was no hiding the haunted look in his eyes.

"Eleanor Moore," he whispered. He watched Devon blink several times, as if confused or surprised, so he attempted to clarify, "True's mother. That was her name."

Devon tried to show as little reaction as possible as she felt her heart sink into the depths of her stomach. So this was about Eleanor.

The leader swallowed hard, steeling herself for whatever information Danziger might choose to share with her. She also tried not to appear as though she'd recognized the name. After all, she wasn't supposed to know anything about the woman, and she certainly wasn't supposed to be well versed in the few details that she'd been able to unearth regarding her short life.

Danziger plowed onward, and the sorrow in his voice was evident. "Elle and I were together for a couple of years. Even tried to get her to marry me a few times, but she always turned me down. She hated all of that marital contract garbage." A mirthless grin flashed at lightning speed across his face. "She always joked that she wanted to keep her options open, in case a better offer came along."

He turned back toward the fire and paused to regather his thoughts. He grappled to determine the best way to explain what had happened next to the woman he'd loved without airing the anger, fear, despair, and a dozen other painful emotions that had permanently scarred his psyche; some of which still felt just as raw as when they had been originally inflicted twelve years before.

John decided that it was best to keep it simple. Anything more would simply hurt too much. "There was an accident," he at last croaked out.

Observing Danziger in this state, Devon had the almost uncontainable urge to reach out to him, perhaps to place a comforting hand on his shoulder or even to interlace her fingers with his, but she somehow managed to refrain from doing so. She didn't want to run the risk of doing anything that might cause him to back away from her or shut down. As such, she garnered her stamina and remained as composed as she could possibly be under the circumstances. However, she also fully understood that there wasn't enough strength in the entire universe to hold back the tears forming in her eyes.

After John had resteadied his breathing, he started again. "Suddenly, Elle was dead, but she was still alive at the same time. Hell, even now I don't really know how that shit works. And then to be told that she had this perfect little person growing inside of her. It was almost too much to take in."

Danziger swiveled his gaze back to Devon and, for the first time, he noticed several tears trickling down her cheeks. At the same time, his grief was continuing to rise to the surface and he could feel his mask starting to slip. He was truly thankful that Devon was allowing him to talk without interruption. And he was supremely grateful that she hadn't tried to touch him in any way. He knew himself well enough to understand that any physical contact at that extremely vulnerable moment would probably force him to run for the hills.

"The morning that True was born was the happiest day of my life," he recounted, his voice taking on a wistful, awestruck quality. "When the doctors handed me this tiny, sweet baby... it was like being given a little piece of Elle. It was like a part of her was alive... truly alive, again."

John roughly shook his head. "But it was also the saddest day of my life. Knowing that this little girl was going to grow up without her mother... And Elle would've been a wonderful Mom." He let out a heavy-hearted sigh. "It was all so unfair, especially for True. She deserved so much better. So did Elle, for that matter."

And so did you, Devon added in her mind and came very close to saying aloud. However, she successfully held her tongue and, instead, stayed riveted to every word.

There was a sudden darkening of Danziger's face and voice. "And then they took her away," he disclosed bitterly.

Devon was forced to briefly abandon her vow of silence as her eyebrows shot toward her hairline. "What do you mean 'they took her away?'" she gasped.

John took several full breaths to calm himself, barely able to contain his temper at the memory. "Those shankin' Station doctors. They took True right outta my arms," he spat. "I thought that it was so they could run some tests down the hall. But then they never brought her back and they refused to tell me where they'd taken her. When I started raisin' hell, they strong-armed me and stuck me in a locked room for four hours straight. I was about out of my mind, at that point."

The mechanic's entire body tightened up as he revealed, "When hospital security finally came back, they threatened to have me arrested if I kicked up any more fuss. Then, I was escorted to a room filled with more security officers, hospital staff and, most importantly, two members of the local Quad-branch of the Government Finance Department."

Devon was still hanging on every syllable as he continued, "Turns out that TweedleDum and TweedleDumber had taken it upon themselves to run a basic audit of my credit account and it had been decided that my debt ratio was too high. They started spoutin' off a bunch of figures and percentages, claiming that there was no way I'd be able to afford to keep up with my Passage Payments, Elle's neuro-support payments, and raise a child at the same time. They informed me that I would have to choose between keeping Elle alive or keeping True. If I chose Elle, True would become a ward of the state and, God knows, where she'd end up. If I chose to raise True, Elle's life support would be shut off.

Danziger sharply knifed his fingers through his hair as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I told 'em that there was no need for me to give up one or the other and I could handle all of my responsibilities, but they wouldn't listen. I begged 'em to reconsider. It was an impossible situation. And they demanded an answer that day. They also said that if I didn't choose, they would make the decision for me. For all I knew, I could lose both of them."

He absently scratched at his stubbled face, exasperated. "I can't tell you how long this went on; hours and hours.. I... I just couldn't do it. I wasn't willing to give up either of them. So, finally, I came up with an alternative."

Danziger paused and took another full breath. "One of the umpteen reasons they gave me for limiting the number of my dependents was their assumption that I'd eventually take up with another Drone who'd push out more of my kids and we'd all end up being nothing but a drain on the government's pocketbook." His eyes left Devon's and settled on his boots, again. "So I took that option off of the table. I offered to fix it so that could never happen. It took some convincing, but they finally agreed."

To both of them, the mechanic's words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity as the reality hit Devon like a rock to the head.

"My God, John," she sputtered, her mouth agape. "Are you saying that you were chemically sterilized?"

He nodded, his gaze still centered on a weathered scuffmark on his left boot. "It was the only way," he confirmed, his voice reverting back to a whisper.

Another few seconds of stillness passed and Danziger seemed to be contemplating what to say. "And for what it's worth, I can still... perform the act," he finally added, still just above a murmur as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "There just won't be the danger of any future Danziger children stinkin' up the air on their precious Stations."

Devon's horrified eyes remained as wide as hubcaps as he continued, "The doctors performed the procedure that night. And, afterward, I signed a contract stating that, if I was ever late on a single neuro-support payment, Elle's life would be terminated. I was also placed on the Immigrant Children Services watch-list and, if they ever got the smallest whiff that True wasn't being properly cared for, she would be taken from me and I'd be permanently stripped of my parental rights. And God help all of us if I ever missed a Passage Payment because the contract read that the government would take True AND disconnect Elle's support."

There was another extended pause and now John was becoming a bit disconcerted at how unusually quiet Devon was. However, he still couldn't gather enough courage to raise his line of sight to meet hers.

"So True's it for me. She's the only child I'll ever have," he expressed. "Of course, I'll admit that, if I could've afforded it, and maybe if things had turned out differently than they did, I would've loved to've someday had enough kids to fill an entire freighter. But that's okay. True is more than enough. As far as I'm concerned, she's all I'll ever need."

Devon was shivering, but it had nothing to do with the mild chill of the night air. She could no longer speak and she was having trouble focusing. There was a reverberating humming sound in her ears and she was also in serious danger of losing the contents of her stomach. But these symptoms weren't the result of a sudden onset of illness. It was blind rage.

Had the Jamestown landed at that very moment, wild horses and a med-tent filled with sedaderms couldn't have kept Devon from hopping the ship and hitching a ride back to the Stations in order to hunt down those responsible for causing her friend so much anguish. She not only wanted to ensure that these people lost their jobs, she wanted examples made of them by prosecuting them to the harshest extent of the law for their flagrant violation of John's civil liberties. And for those who had already died during her journey to and from G889, Devon would have petitioned the Department of Records and Archives to attach an addendum to each of their history files which detailed their transgressions, bringing well-deserved shame upon their good name and permanently tainting their legacy.

She wondered if Danziger's gross mistreatment was an isolated incident or if experiences similar to his were considered commonplace in the Quadrant where its residents were basically at the mercy of those whom the government deemed more worthy. Devon suddenly felt as though she'd accomplished very little when it came to fighting for the rights of those born less fortunate than her. At one time, she'd considered herself to be one of the Immigrant Workers' greatest champions. Now she felt like a failure. And, even worse, she felt as though she'd failed John.

Moreover, Devon experienced a profound sense of sadness for John as well as for the untold number of children who would never be allowed the honor and good fortune of having him as their father. She thought about what Danziger's life might have been like, had he made a different bargain with the Station authorities. Would it have changed at all? If he'd had to do it over again, would he have chosen an alternate path?

Devon also realized that she had just been handed the final piece to a very different, yet equally complex, puzzle; one which she'd been trying to solve since almost the very first day they'd arrived planetside. Until now, she could never fully comprehend why a man like Danziger had signed up for a job like Eden Project. Several months before, she'd even gone so far as to ask him outright about it and his response had been simple: He'd had no intention of passing the burden of his inherited debt onto his child. To Devon, it had made perfect sense and she'd never questioned whether Danziger was telling her the truth. However, she also couldn't help but suspect that there might have been more to the explanation that, for whatever reason, had been withheld from her. And now, for the first time, she finally understood why John Danziger, one of the most responsible and dedicated parents that she'd ever come across, had actively pursued and then knowingly accepted a job that would take his daughter away from everything that she'd ever known and quite possibly place them both in harm's way.

Being hired for Eden Project had given the Danzigers the opportunity to escape from under the government's thumb for forty-four years and, presumably, several different administrations. By the time they'd returned to the Stations, there was a slight, but very real, possibility that their Immigrant Children Service file would be long forgotten; lost in the shuffle of thousands, if not millions, of newer cases. John would be able to breathe a bit easier knowing that it was less likely for True to be torn from his life because a disgruntled co-worker or a nosy neighbor reported a skinned knee or an unsewn hole in her shirt.

Furthermore, Danziger's salary as Ops-captain was slightly more than five times the standard rate, and should have enabled him to easily honor his short term financial obligations, as well as to bring him several steps closer to achieving his ambitious long term goal of his daughter enjoying an adult life completely free of the constraints and the stigma of Inherited Debt. In fact, there was a distinct possibility that, when Devon issued payroll just as the Roanoke had hastily left its dock, Danziger was already debt-free.

There was no doubt in Devon's mind that John must have considered the Eden Project to be a a godsend. At least, it was before they'd crashed onto G889.

A deep, concerned voice sliced through the middle of her intense deliberation. "Devon, are you gonna say anything?"

Devon had no clue whatsoever as to how long she'd been sitting there in a silent haze, her large eyes locked on Danziger's. It took a few tries before she was able to successfully snap herself out of her meditative state and back to the discussion at hand.

She was still choked up enough that she had to clear her throat several times before finally locating her voice. "I'm just... well, I feel sort of overwhelmed. It's a lot to digest," she told him honestly.

There was plenty of emotion in her voice as she added, "I'm so sorry, John. I really had no idea." She exhaled another breath which came out as a shudder. "And I'm sorry that I cornered you into talking about something that brings you so much pain."

Danziger sighed and his gaze temporarily retreated to the waning firelight. "Yeah, I've never really been a big fan of revisiting the past. 'Specially when it comes to certain memories."

After taking a few moments for further reflection, he swiveled back to face her directly. "And for what it's worth, the only people who knew anything about this, besides those idiot doctors and paper-pushers, were two friends of mine who were there when it all happened. They're both dead now."

He leaned forward in order to view Devon's face as well as to ensure that she could fully read the seriousness of his own expression. There couldn't be any misconception about the importance of his words. "That means that you're the only person who knows."

Devon veered her gaze slightly, and John moved his head just enough to keep them from breaking eye contact. "I'd like to keep it that way," he whispered.

Several seconds of stillness followed before Devon matched the mechanic's movements by slowly arching forward and further closing the distance between them.

"I promise," she relayed with sincerity. "And I hope you know that you can always talk to me about anything. And whatever you decide to tell me will stay between us. I will never ever betray your trust."

Obviously pleased with her answer, John's face softened and he gave her a resolute nod of his head. "Good," he declared as he launched to his feet, prompting Devon to jump back in surprise at the sudden movement.

"You still plannin' to stay up for a while longer?" he asked while slapping a day's worth of dirt from the legs and back of his trousers, creating several small dust clouds in the process.

Devon was still trying to wrap her brain around the abrupt change in subject matter as well as the unexpected warmth that had been infused into Danziger's voice and expression. As such, it took her a few moments to answer.

"Yes," she finally stammered. "I'm wide awake."

He quickly scanned the surroundings to confirm that all was quiet before he took off in the direction of the meal tent. "Keep an eye on the camp for a couple of minutes," he instructed casually over his shoulder.

Devon cranked her body around to watch him leave. "Where are you going?" she asked, bewildered, yet intrigued.

The mechanic didn't bother to slow down. "I'm gonna go grab us some coffee. And when I get back, I'm gonna tell you a bit more about Elle. Maybe I'll wax a little poetic about some of the crazy things that True did as a toddler that made her Papa proud."

He suddenly stopped mid-step, momentarily looking skyward before rotating back to face her. "And, after that, you're gonna share some stories about what Uly was like as a baby," he proclaimed.

His tone and posture were unflinching as he went for broke. "And then, you're gonna fill me in a little about Uly's father."

He watched as Devon's eyes bulged to twice their normal size and she let out a large gulp.

"Friendship is a two-way street, Adair. To get a little, sometimes you gotta give a little, too," he decreed, crossing his arms defiantly to further illustrate his determination regarding the matter; though it could also have been argued that it was just as much of an involuntary defense mechanism, in case Devon had reacted negatively to his suggestion. "So, do we have a deal?"

Devon bit her bottom lip to the point of nearly drawing blood. It had truly never occurred to her that Danziger might be curious about certain aspects of her personal life as well. And she certainly hadn't planned on disclosing those extremely private details of her past with him that very evening, much of which she hadn't spoken aloud about in almost a decade. But what was easily the most startling part of all was that, once she got over the initial shock of his request, Devon realized that she really didn't mind all that much.

She straightened her back, lifted her chin, and swallowed any and all lingering reservations. "You might want to bring back a thermos," she proposed, the very picture of control. "We'll probably need refills."

She could sense Danziger relax as his muscles untightened and his arms dropped back to their former positions. In fact, they simultaneously appeared to realize that their prior apprehensions, along with the somber emotions which had permeated most of their exchange, had evaporated into the cool, night air.

One side of John's mouth crept upward to form a crooked smile. "Don't go anywhere," he told her, an undeniable glint of anticipation reflected in his blue eyes.

Devon mirrored and then surpassed his expression. "I won't," she assured in an earnest, uninhibited tone.

She viewed Danziger with great interest as he rocked back on his feet a few times before finally turning back and recommencing his short journey to the meal tent. After reaching his destination, the mechanic paused at the doorway, unable to resist pivoting around to cast one more fascinated glance Devon's way. After the pair traded another long look, John shook his head in amazement and then quickly vanished behind the thick tarp.

Now on her own for the next few minutes, Devon turned back in her seat and took several deep breaths as she attempted to inwardly organize how to best explain certain particulars of her life leading up to, as well as after, Uly's birth. Her eyes drifted to the campfire only to discover that she and Danziger had been so engrossed in their conversation that the flames were now in serious danger of being completely extinguished due to their neglect.

The leader explored the soft grass around her feet and was pleased to locate an appropriate sized stick within arm's reach. She began to randomly and rather harshly poke at the cooling embers, but except for an occasional sizzling noise and random puff of gray smoke, her actions were largely unsuccessful. She next performed a wider search of the blackened landscape until she came across almost a full cord of firewood which, for reasons unknown to her, had been stacked adjacent to the supply tent about fifty yards away, as opposed to near the campfire where it would have obviously done the most good.

Fearful that Danziger would emerge from the meal tent and find her gone, Devon practically sprinted over to the stockpile and hastily gathered an armful of logs, before returning to the remains of the campfire as quickly as her legs would carry her. She carefully laid the wood in a crisscross pattern in the center of the pit. Once she'd constructed a solid base, she retrieved the stick and, this time, very slowly and delicately sifted the embers around and over the newer logs. Her more restrained approach and careful diligence eventually paid off and it wasn't too long before a small spark gave way to a crackling and ever-growing flame, and the once dying campfire was given a second chance at life.

Now that the fire had been properly tended to, Devon could concentrate on what the rest of the night might bring. She was thrilled beyond belief that she and Danziger had seemingly overcome a major stumbling block to their growing friendship and, finally, they were going to get to know one another better. As upset as she'd been at hearing about what was surely one of the bleakest incidents in John's past, she was exceedingly pleased that John had, at last, chosen to confide in her. But there was so much more that she wanted to learn about him and she eagerly speculated as to the bounty of personal knowledge that he might decide to share with her that evening, and perhaps during future one-on-one discussions. In addition, Devon wondered about what private details of her own life she would end up divulging to him.

There was a small part of her that worried about what she might be getting herself into. But there was also a much larger part of her that was anxiously looking forward to it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the rustling of the meal tent's canvas, followed by the sound of ever-nearing footsteps. She didn't see, but could feel Danziger's presence as he halted to stand directly behind her.

"So you ready to take a stroll down Memory Lane?" came his deep baritone, causing the hairs to rise on the back of her neck.

Devon paused and slowly let out the breath that she didn't realize she'd been holding before turning to face John, wearing a warm smile. Indeed, she was ready.

In fact, she could hardly wait.

THE END

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