She narrowed her eyes. “Are you taking pieces of the ship?”
“Nothing that’s attached. Just loose bits of fluff.”
“What are you making?”
“Not sure yet.” He spun the object and watched her reaction.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I lost a screw. To a probe. I need to find a replacement.”
“If something here works, it’s yours. Obviously.” Cifer held up the odd collection.
“Let me grab the probe.”
Cifer smiled. If he hurried, he could pull this off. He dropped the sculpture in progress on the bunk and shot through the ventilation. While Blaize snatched the probe from the work bench, Cifer reached for the screw that had come loose. He tucked it into a pouch of skin and shot back to the cell.
He was sitting on the bunk, trying to slow his breathing, when she arrived at his cell. The screw she needed didn’t connect to the sculpture that would more than likely become a bird, but he stuck it into a hole and gave it a quick twist.
“I have it.” She held up the two pieces.
“You can come in.” Cifer didn’t move from the bunk.
Blaize hesitated, and he was afraid she might refuse. Slowly, she lifted her hand to the control panel, and the door slid open. Cifer raised his eyes and patted the mattress next to him before going back to his sculpture. Blaize sat, farther away than he would have liked, but she’d joined him on the bed. He’d take the small token of trust.
“May I see the probe?”
Blaize gathered it in one hand and held it out to him. Cifer carefully placed the sculpture between them, away from the edge of the bunk. He took the probe from her hands and made a good show of inspecting it as if he was analyzing what part might fit in the connector from the handheld base to the dangling bit of metal used to take the readings.
“It’s old, I know. There’s way newer technology than this. But it was given to me. I have to fix it. I can’t get another one until we reach Cassan, and I really don’t want another one. It’s the one I learned on—system maintenance, I mean, not just the probe. Do you think you might have a part that would work?”
Cifer waited in case she continued to speak. He loved the sound of her voice. It was like a warm fire on a winter cycle that he recalled from his childhood. Smoky and heated. He imagined them curled up in his bed on Cassan, her talking or reading aloud, anything, just as long as her voice continued to flow.
She remained quiet.
“I’m sure I have something that will work.” He handed her the probe and picked up the sculpture. The piece he removed was the wrong one, but he needed more time with her. He held out his palm, and she took the screw from him carefully, avoiding contact.
“It doesn’t fit.” Her shoulders slumped, and she handed him the unworkable part. Their fingers grazed. She twitched away from him. So, she felt it, too—the electric heat that narrowed his world to her.
“Hold on.” Cifer moved his hand near her hair. “I think I see something.”
Blaize reached up to her head, but Cifer moved before she could touch him and held open his hand with the screw she needed.
“Nice trick.” She took the piece from his open hand without touching him.
He held himself still, not giving himself away with a knowing smile.
“It works. You had it. How did you have a part that fits this old thing? This is so good. You don’t even know. Thank you, Cifer.” She threw herself into his arms and gave him a firm hug.
“Blaize?” Dez’s concerned voice ricocheted through the cell.
Cifer was barely able to wrap his arms briefly around her before she gave him a horrified look and launched herself off the bunk and out of his cell. The scent of her, spicy and floral, lingered along with the heat of her body.
“What were you doing?” Dez asked her.
Cifer didn’t care what she answered, as long as she came back.
“I…uh…had to fix this.” Blaize held up her probe.
Dez glanced from Cifer to Blaize and back.
