Morrows stared at Jackie. Jackie stared at Morrows.

“Darling,” Morrows’ voice was hesitant. “Is. . . is there anything you would care to explain?”

Jackie opened her mouth, then closed it. She thought, and then told herself to stop thinking and just speak. But she couldn’t.

Morrows kept on speaking. “I’m not sure how...I mean if you...What—?”

Morrows was a fish dropped into the air looking for any small thing to grasp meaning with. His mouth kept trying to form words for a question, but Jackie could see it was a useless attempt. As she struggled to phrase even the start of things, her body tensed. Why should she have to explain anything to him? She hated how easily lost he became, or how carefully he was trying to sound out the situation. Very suddenly Jackie found she hated a lot of people, Morrows, Qadir, Valencia, even herself.

“It didn’t mean anything,” Jackie shouted. But even that sounded awful to her. “I, I mean—she’s lying.”

“Well, but which is it? Are you sure . . .” Morrows stopped himself and tried again, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I mean. What happened, Jackie? What was Captain Steele talking about?”

“As though you don’t understand, you know what she was talking about, and I don’t know why you’re pretending to be so stupid about it.” Jackie snapped. She looked up to Morrows with fire in her eyes, ready to fight, but it was sapped out of her. Morrows’ smile had broken. “Thomas, I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“It’s all right, my love, it’s all right you understand,” Morrows said, waving away Jackie’s apologies. “But I should get Captain Steele booted, you understand, before her foot becomes dislocated or some such again, you understand.”

Jackie hesitated. It was an easy out, Morrows offered. She could escape the med bay and let Morrows deal with his hurt on his own. Maybe even take the chance to pretend Valencia had never said anything and carry on as though nothing had happened. “Can I help?”

Morrows nodded, “The boot is on the shelf behind me.” Jackie went to the shelf Morrows nodded towards with the jut of his chin. She almost didn't’ hear his question. “Tell me what happened.”

The sound in the cabin whittled back down to the tinkle of the glass bottles on their shelves. Jackie turned back and began to fuss with the latches on the boot.

“I’m not that way,” Jackie whispered as last, handing the thing to Morrows. “You know I’m not that way.”

Morrows sighed and put the boot down next to Valencia on the table. “I can’t say that I do know so much as that, you understand. There has always been significant looks exchanged at port with other women, and you’ve talked about your appreciation for the female form at length before, you understand.”

“Significant looks?” Jackie asked, her pulse spiking with the accusations. “Never. I have never done this anywhere. I am Chíro, and we are not like that.”

“So what happened with Captain Steele?”

Jackie’s mouth went dry and she scrambled to come up with some excuse, some reason for why what had happened, happened. “This is ridiculous. You know nothing could happen. She’s RAF! They kill Chíro for rewards, they scalp and dismember us like, like we’re animals. And they have this vendetta against all sky pirates. Do you know who I am?”

“Jackie, sky pirate and Chíro, the dread of the skies,” Morrows recited as he carefully placed Valencia’s foot into the boot.

“Right!” Jackie crowed, pacing beside Morrows. “I’m both! So what do you think this RAF will do? I will tell— She will kill me, and turn in parts of me for that gold. It is stupid to think that I would be stupid to do anything. . .” She trailed off, her thoughts filling in faster than her words.

“Well, we’re not always very intelligent all the time, you understand,” Morrows said.

Jackie sighed and winced from the pain in her ribs. “What is wrong with me?”

“Not a thing so far as I can tell,” Morrows answered, snapping the latches of the boot closed. “Just a small streak of dishonesty, perhaps? Guilt? A shock of infatuation... or—or love?”

Jackie shot Morrows a dark look but then softened her gaze. Morrows' bright blue eyes were hazed by water and his obvious throat nob bounced up and down.

This was the man she loved, whom she had shared so many parts of herself and her life with. And what she had done with Valencia . . . Jackie went over to Morrows and buried herself in his chest, drawing comfort from the way his arms fit so comfortably in the crook of her hips and the scent of herbs and parchment rising from him.

“Jackie,” his words were soft rumbles in his chest. “Jackie, whatever it is, I would really prefer it if you could be honest with yourself and myself. You really must tell me the truth so that we can sort it all out properly, you understand.”

Jackie hesitated, flashes from the night with Valencia filling her head and attempting to filter out through her mouth. But she couldn’t. Morrows’ heart would shatter. 

She broke away from the embrace, chilled by the separation. She looked down to her feet, then back to Morrows’ face, steadily focusing on the place between his eyes. “I kissed her, that night we captured her ship. She kissed me, actually. I had been checking to make sure she didn’t have any other weapons, and I had just looked down, and then when I looked back up . . .”

Jackie could still remember the flush of her lips over Valencia’s dry and cracked mouth. The sweet taste inside, like burnt almonds.

“She had said something about crossing legs,” Morrows' lips pressed together in a slight grimace. “Not that you must go into sordid details, you understand—“

“She lied. You’ve heard her, she thinks her personality is flawless. She’s a liar, I don’t know what she was going on about.”

“Well,” Morrows turned back to Valencia, occupying himself by taking her pulse.

“Thomas, I—“

“Please leave.”

This time, Jackie did.