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Ren grunted at the slap of flesh as he threw himself backwards into one of the defenders guarding him. An arm snaked around him, reaching for the ball, and he spun on his back heel to put his elbow into a set of unprotected ribs. The guard stumbled back, giving Ren just enough room to hurl the weighted ball to where he knew Grenville would be. The taller, lanky ranger snagged the ball mid-jump, spinning in the air to sink it into the goal set in the wall. The buzzer sounded, indicating ten goals, accompanied by a chorus of profanity in as many languages as there were people.
Grenville strutted to the center of the court, his grin almost as big as his ego. "And that is why you don't challenge rangers to BoomBall." One of the local soldiers tossed a towel at him and Grenville passed it to Ren. "We'll be expecting our drinks in the e-club after supper."
There was more grousing at the reminder of their bet, and the standard complaints that rangers didn't play fair and the wolves made them psychic. It wasn't true of course, but it made the local soldiers feel better. Given that both the other teams had worked together to turn the game into four-on-two, and they’d still lost? Ren could allow them their excuses.
He rubbed the sweat from his face, then dried his short hair before looking at his partner. "You headed back to orbit tonight?"
Both of their wolves wandered over now that the game had ended, weaving around each other in the method they often used when playing, and Grenville watched them before answering. "Nah. The window's a little tight, and since I'm already here, I got permission to head back after tomorrow's shadowfall. Why? I thought you were headed up into the mountains, deliberately this time."
Ren almost resented his connection to Inari, who in turn reflected the inquisitiveness of Grenville's wolf alongside her own poorly hidden irritation. She skittered just out of reach of his hand and shot him a dirty look. "Yeah, I think I've had enough of mountains for a while. Figured I'd save some other poor bastard the pain of having to sit next to you."
"You can stow that shit, Ranger. We’ve been together long enough that I half-think you and I have bonded.”
“God forbid.”
“Whatever.” Grenville beamed. “You know you love me. Anyway, all I’m saying is an idiot couldn't miss that Inari's pissed at you." He shook his head, emphasizing his long neck. "I assume it's about something more than feeding her kibble while you had a steak."
Ren sighed and toweled his face off a second time. "It's complicated."
"When isn't it?" Grenville tied his towel into a fat knot and then arced it toward the hamper on the side of the court. When it went in, he made a poor imitation of the scoring buzzer. "Boom. Grenville. Unassisted!"
Ren couldn't help but smile. In his experience, every fireteam had a joker, the guy you could count on to bring the others out of their dour moods. Most of the time, they tried too hard, but Grenville seemed to know just how far to push it and stay funny. "Fine. So, Lucia wanted to come to the cabin with Inari and me. I said no. That's the end of the story."
"Clearly it's not. I shoot down ladies all the time. You don't see Djehuti snapping at my hands." He started into his postgame stretches with a disturbing amount of energy.
"Inari liked her. That's all."
Grenville froze, his head turning to lock eyes with him. "Holy shit. Lucia could feel your wolf."
Ren shot a dirty look at Inari, who huffed before padding to the edge of the court. "Maybe. I don't know."
"You can lie to yourself, brother, but we're too close for that. What are you still doing here?" He gestured toward where Inari waited. "Your wolf’s got the right idea. You need to listen to her."
"Hardly." Ren rolled his eyes. "That’s not fair to Lucia. We’ve—let’s just say there’s history. 'Ri can learn to live with it." True enough, he supposed. In time he might be able to convince himself that he could too.
A frustrated anger seeped into the edge of his awareness, a moment before Grenville whispered, “Officer!” and snapped to attention.
Ren mirrored the posture reflexively as the man stepped into the court. Ren recognized him as the same captain Lucia had been talking to earlier and glanced at the name tape on the man’s chest. Snyder.
"At ease, rangers." His tone was easy as he strolled up, but his gaze stayed glued to the two wolves. "I just wanted to thank you both for your help with this whole disaster. If the insurgents had managed to kill Mx. Sarmiento, even indirectly, it would have brought this mess to a boiling point." As if summoned, Inari padded closer and punched her head into the back of Ren's knee.
Ren resisted the urge to roll his eyes and reached down to snag his wolf, but she slipped away. "Just doing our jobs, that's all."
Snyder nodded. "Indeed. And it's been a pleasure to see. Not often us dirtsiders get to spend time with you TJF boys."
Ren had been through enough of these conversations that he knew what was coming next, as though it had been written in three-meter-high flames. “But you're wondering when we'll be on our way again." While their discipline was high, TJF in general, and rangers in particular, had a lot of privileges because of their status. Like sleeping in the UOQ instead of the barracks. It was the sort of thing that grated on regular troops enough to cause unrest.
"That obvious, eh?" Snyder gave a sheepish shrug.
"Rest easy, Captain. We're off-world at first window tomorrow. We can lay low until then." Ren noticed Inari had moved to pace along the edge of the court with obvious irritation. He and his wolf were going to need a long sit-down conversation once they got back to the Hunting Cry.
The officer sighed. "Excellent. I mean, it's not that we're in a hurry to... It's..."
"No need to explain. We understand."
"Oh, good." The man's relief was obvious, and it rankled Ren. "I took the liberty of having a bottle of our local whiskey delivered to your UOQ. I think you'll be impressed."
"Meaning you'd rather we stayed in this evening." Also disturbingly common—not the least because some tough, or more often group of toughs, got enough liquor in them to override survival instincts and think they could jump a TJF Ranger.
"I'm so pleased we understand each other.” He nodded too quickly and cast another watchful eye toward the wolves. "Well, I'm sure you'll want to head back and shower. Don't let me keep you." They exchanged a quick salute, and the captain was gone before Ren could mount an argument.
#
THIS WASN'T WORKING. Ren looked over at the couch, where Grenville's lanky frame sprawled across most of the available cushions. While she'd been happy to give him the cold shoulder, Inari curled up next to his partner's wolf to create a large distortion in the patterned tile of the room. That left him standing at the table, not sure whether he should pour another three fingers from the bottle in his glass.
And then wondering if he looked as pathetic as he sounded in his head.
"Are you going to stare at that booze, or actually drink it?" Grenville's voice gave no indication that the two of them had already burned through half the bottle. The man's tolerance levels had won them more than one bet against a squad of dirtsiders. He rattled his cup in the air in front of him. "Because if you're not going to pour for you, my glass is empty."
Ren coughed out a quick laugh, then stepped over to splash a generous portion of the red-amber liquid into his friend’s cup. After a pause he doled out some for himself as well. As the captain had indicated, it was surprisingly high quality. Smoky, but deceptively smooth, and warming enough to cut through the incessant chill of nighttime on Tyson, with faint floral notes that reminded him of the purple-flowered meadows near his childhood home. He'd never cared much for the local liquors, but perhaps he'd never had any of quality.
"Look," Grenville pushed. "You've got two choices. Either suck it up, accept that it's over, and live with the choice. Or admit you've screwed up, and head over to her quarters and beg her to take you back. Seems pretty straightforward."
"And you're the expert? I don't recall you rushing about in a hurry to be serious about your relationships." In truth, none of his team were. Despite the relative peace, the rangers lived dangerous lives. Family weren't allowed on the Hunting Cry, unlike some TJF vessels, and nobody wanted to think about leaving a grieving widow behind. “Or do you need me to send a message to that hotshot pilot you’re always flirting with?”
"One, fuck you. It’s not flirting, just talking. She saved my life, mate." Grenville glowered over the rim of his cup. "Two, no one's the expert about relationships when wolves are involved. But if you’re right, and she’s able to sense Inari’s feelings?”
“I saw it,” he snapped. “Hell, she confirmed it.”
Grenville took a long drink. “I can honestly count on one hand the number of times I've heard of it happening." He held up his right hand, the ring and pinky fingers missing from the first knuckle up. He never talked about the accident that had taken the two fingers, or why he didn't replace them, and Ren had never been the sort to ask. "Then again, Inari chose you, so I can see why you'd question her judgment." Inari lifted her head and growled from where she'd been napping in the corner, and Grenville spread his arms wide. "Sorry, 'Ri. You know I love you, but you gotta admit. Your boy's a mess."
The wolf gave an annoyed whuff and laid her head back down across Djehuti's neck.
Ren shook his head. "Thanks for the defense. Partner." He layered as much annoyance into the word as his wolf had into her impatient huff, then turned on Grenville. "It’s a bad idea.”
“Did you at least tell her what it means?” Grenville shook his head, as though he already knew the answer. “Of course you didn’t. Never mind. Forgot who I was asking.”
“What person in their right mind wants a partner who's away all the time?"
His battle buddy sat up straight on the couch, pointing a finger at him without sloshing the drink in his hand. "First, you’d see her plenty. You get leave once a quarter, even though you don't usually take it. Second, I'm not telling you to marry her. I'm just saying you shouldn't spit in whatever the fates have set up. Despite evidence to the contrary, your wolf could be onto something. And third, I would think that's for her to decide. Not you. And she needs to be fully informed before she can make a decision."
It wasn't that easy. It couldn't be. But agreeing would at least shut Grenville up on the subject so they could get on with drinking in earnest. Ren took a slow sip. "Fine. You guys win. I'll head over there in the morning and see if she'll consider it." And then, when she said no, he'd have had another few seconds with Lucia to remember her by. That'd be plenty.
It had to be.