The next day you woke up to the warm feeling of sunlight on your face and the gentle rise and fall of a chest that sank beneath you to the rhythm of a breath.

Soft fabric pressed against your cheek and the outline of a broad chin emerged as you blinked for the first time.

No tiredness had raged through you for a long time. And you had slept through the night. Something that hadn't happened for years. Ever since you had learnt that Myers had a red button for your life, to be precise.

Snoring softly, Kurt sucked in the air, frowning as your hands moved over his chest. The beat of his heart pressed into your palms, strong and so vivid.

When was the last time you had touched soft flesh that was neither yours nor in a frozen state?

You couldn't remember. Somehow it felt strange. Unusual. Not bad, not disgusting. Just like something you had last felt so long ago that you had forgotten what it actually felt like.

How strange.

Yawning, you sat up, stretched your arms in the air and let out a sound that could wake the dead. Kurt blinked. Humming, his eyes searched for you in the glare of the morning sun.

You slid back to avoid pressing on his stomach. Now you were sitting right in his lap, your hands resting on your stomach.

Blinking, he looked at you.

Smiling thinly, you tilted your head, strands of your (H/C) hair tickling your ears. He blinked again, still sluggish from sleep. His mind moved as viscously as liquid honey.

You moved in his lap. Out of reflex, he raised his hands to your hips.

"Stay.", it was a request but also an order.

He wasn't sure which of the two and you could hear it. As if he thought he had more space in your presence after last night, but not yet the permission to act out too much.

You pressed a breath through your nose.

"Today we will die.", you greeted him.

He nodded. His eyes sparkled.

"Let's shoot a bird from the sky.", he confirmed with a smirk.

Strands of brown hair stuck to his forehead. Swallowing hard, you bowed your head and bent down to him. You struggled with yourself for a moment. Then you cupped his face with both hands, so tenderly that the metal fingernails didn't hurt him.

"My dear Kurt, you must be either stupid or batshit insane.", you whispered softly, mesmerised by the edges of his face, the curve of his nose and the metallic lines that ran under his eyes and across his cheeks. "Whatever it is, I hope it won't change."

You gently breathed a kiss on his cheek and wiped the brown strands from his forehead. Satisfied, he closed his eyes and hummed.

"The women in Siberia were beautiful.", his voice was rough from sleep. "But none of them would have dared to backstab the NUSA with me."

You smiled.

"And to get Militech out of the sky.", you whispered.

Just as he turned his head, your eyes met and he opened his lips slightly, you pulled back. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest. It was impossible to deny the feelings he was able to evoke in you.

All these years you had done things on a whim, not always for a reason but always because you wanted to. And now he was here, right beneath you, smiling with such confidence that it made you shiver.

How long had you been looking for someone who could interest you, erase your indifference and make you feel something human?

Excitement.

Enthusiasm.

Longing.

Yes, that was the best word for what you felt whenever he looked at you. It had taken two days and he had you wrapped around his little finger. And that's exactly what you wanted.

His grip on your hip tightened, moving higher. You could feel the warmth of his body. His fingers wrapped around your waist, wanting to pull you down to him.

But just as you were considering giving in to the desire, the siren sounded.

As if struck by lightning, you jumped up from the bed and landed on your feet. Your eyes jumped to the ceiling, through the window.

Up in the sky, the cloud cover had opened up. A huge shadow fell across your face. Kurt was also on his feet within seconds, two steps and he was at your side. He gritted his teeth at the sight.

"Time to get dressed, Colonel.", you huffed, turning on the spot and striding towards your dogs' chairs.

The vital signs were still not optimal. At some risk you could use them, but that might mean they were useless for a very long time afterwards. And something in the back of your mind whispered that this wasn't a good idea.

So you had to fight the old-fashioned way. With your own hands.

"I'll wait for you outside!", you announced, already at the door, stopping and turning round once more. "Kurt."

A satisfied expression flitted across his face. He raised his head to meet your gaze.

"I don't know your name, Whistler.", he said.

This time he had more cheek, daring to ask you directly for something without showing any restraint.

Your fingers twitched, metal fingernails scratching deep gouges into the metal of the door. You would have slit anyone else's throat for that.

But not his. He was allowed to. Because you allowed it.

Your eyes briefly wandered out into the bright light. Then you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

"I'll tell you if we're successful today.", you purred and disappeared.

Quickly you crossed the base, dodging hastily running soldiers and mech suits lined up next to the fully loaded armoured vehicles.

The line-up looked thin. Too thin for two militech tanks and an incoming warship loaded with cargo only the devil knew.

"General!", you shouted up to the tower from where Roberts was surveying the situation.

His gaze briefly fell on you. You pointed up at the militech ship. He didn't even notice it.

"Just as planned, Whistler!", he shouted and disappeared out of sight.

Irritated, you gritted your teeth and swallowed a growl. To certain death, then. Just as the leadership had planned.