Dare leaned causally against the wall next to his set of bunks, throwing a bouncy ball so it hit the floor, the opposite wall, and then landed back in his hand. He continued on for a while, and watched as Rette thumbed through one of the new novels that had been added to their library: The Phantom of the Opera. He asked what an opera was when she pulled out the book. Her answer: "I believe it's like a show, but with lots of singing." That was about a half hour ago. Now, Dare threw the ball, back and forth, back and forth, over and over and over. He saw her, hands holding the book delicately, as though it were a child, eyes skimming through the words, some passages causing her green eyes to light up in amusement.  He made sure to hide his smirk when she bit her lip to stifle a smile.  He loved seeing her so happy.  Now that they were Squad members, who knew where the light and happiness in their lives would go. 

Rette abruptly turned toward him, fire in her eyes, before letting her head fall down onto the bed.  "Will you stop?  Please?  The sound is driving me crazy," she said.

"Why should I have to?"  Dare whined, and she chuckled. 

"Sometimes I really do doubt you have the maturity of a twenty-year-old."  At his curious, probing look, Rette started to laugh.  And it soon died out when he didn't join her.  "You're not joking?"  He shook his head, no.  "Oh, my.  You didn't know that us subjects mature faster than normal people?  Two years faster?"  She questioned him, condescension clearly evident in her tone. 

He listed his head.  "I guess it makes sense." 

"You guess?"  Rette started to say something else, but was cut off by their door opening.  "Keaton!"  She jumped up, enveloping him in a hug.  "Oh, I'm so sorry.  Where were you?  Do you have to pack?  Are they taking you somewhere?  Where?  Room 93?  Will you be able to stay in the complex?  Are you going to the Wastelands?"  She fired question after question, panic rising with each word.  Keaton offered a small smile. 

"It's okay.  I got a Place.  They just didn't want everyone else to know."  Rette's eyes widened. 

"Are you allowed to tell us?"  Keaton mussed her hair, and when she scowled, both boys laughed. 

"Sheesh, what's with all the questions?"  Dare moved to her, pretty close, and he smirked when she gulped, out of faux fear or the proximity, he hadn't a clue.

"Maybe I'm just worried about my friend. Unlike some people!" Rette spat at him.

"Alright, guys, shut up." The two of them broke out of their trance after a few moments, giving their attention to Keaton. "Fallow got an officer to bring me to the hall, and he gave me my position personally." He held up a hand to stop their chatter as soon as he mentioned Fallow's name. "He said that I had the highest Test score, and it was really good... So they assigned me to Squad 13."  Keaton watched as Rette wracked her brain.  Dare just stared at him, awestruck, wondering what a secret Squad- he knew 13 didn't exist publicly; he knew about every Squad- was working to do, and how awesome it was that his best friend had been recruited for it.  "It's for secret missions, and you can't tell a single person about it.  To cover, I'm working in Tech, so that no one will find out."

Dare started jumping up and down, like a child.  "This is awesome!  My best friend is like a spy!  Let's go kill the bad guys."  He started punching the air, and aforementioned best friend laughed, joining in the fight against the oxygen.  Rette muttered something under her breath that sounded like "boys" before throwing caution to the wind, and fought with them. 

Because when would they have time to act like children again?

•

Keaton waited until Rette and Dare had to go to a Squad 17 meeting, where they would meet their partners and leaders and all that. But the subjects didn't actually have to report for work for two days, the whole of the weekend.

Once the door was closed behind them, about an hour after telling them about Squad 13, he pulled out the somewhat crumpled banking sitting in his pocket. "Thank goodness," he uttered to himself upon seeing that the message was intact.

K,
Meet me again tonight. Same place, twelve hundred hours. I'll be waiting. Can't wait to see you.
-T

Keaton smiled at the note, fingers hovering over her words, the words that could've had either of them sent to Room 93, if they weren't careful. He knew that he liked her far too much, but for the first time... he didn't care about breaking the rules. And he wasn't sure if that scared or intrigued him.

Never the less, he was excited for the observatory. And Tyris.

•

"Squad 17, most of you know, is an elite group of subjects," Commander Darvin's voice boomed, and Dare felt his friend's nails sink into his arm. He looked over, concern etched onto his brow, but it quickly dissipated at the radiant smile on her face. A small one flitted onto his lips, and Rette's eyes traveled to it.   She gulped. 

Bloody hell, he thought.  Dare watched as she stepped forward on her toes, breath against his ear.  "Isn't this exciting, Elphy?"  He let the name slide, just this once, only because of the excitement in her tone. 

"Yeah, it really is," Dare responded.  Not wanting to get in trouble, the two of them turned their eyes forward, but Rette's fingers stayed curled around his bicep.  He couldn't help the smirk that curled his lips. 

"For the eight newbies, training is hard.  We do long hours, work until we're on the floor, and do things you've never even dreamed of."  Commander's figure towered over all of them, muscles bulging, calculative eyes sweeping over them.  "Now, because of the rules, we can't let you start today."  Dare stifled a smile at the disappointed look on Darvin's face.  "But you do have to be assigned partners.  We've looked over your fact sheets, but you still have a say of who you'd like to work with.  Just keep in mind, though, that your choice may not be your actual partner.  Someone will be handing out stock cards," as if on cue, Dare felt a piece of bright blue paper, and black pen being pushed into his grasp, "and pens so you can write a choice down.  Make sure your name is in the top right corner.  Don't talk to anyone," his voice turned menacing.  "Your choice is precisely that: yours.  Choose wisely."  Dare placed the card flat onto his right palm, scribbled his name, and wrote the only name that came to mind on the paper: Margarette "Rette" Waar.  He refused to look back at her, he refused, he wouldn't.

He failed. 

His eyes fell onto her, and he was startled to see that her gaze was already glued to his.  Without a word, she held up her card, and saw in that neat print of hers, his name.  Elphias Dare.  Joy swept through him, and he reciprocated her action. 

Rette stared at his messy scrawl, a warm smile meeting her eyes.  "Alright!"  Darvin yelled when the subjects' voices picked up.  "Your cards are being collected.  Wait a few moments as we read through them."  Their cards were taken, and placed into Commander's and his assistant's hands. 

"So," Rette turned to him.  "Maybe we'll get to work together."

One corner of Dare's mouth pulled.  "Hopefully.  I don't want to get stuck with any of those bloody wankers," he replied, causing Rette to giggle, hand flying to cover his mouth.  The humor was gone, and her breath hitched, as if stunned at her actions.  Dare could only stare at her hand, covering his lips.  She let out a dry chuckle. 

"Stop," she immediately pulled her hand away.  "Someone might hear you," she whispered.  Dare leveled his gaze with hers. 

"Let them." 

"Everyone!  Quiet down!"  Dare rolled his eyes at the sound of Darvin's voice.  "We've read through your suggestions and made a list of Squad 17's list of new teams."  His eyes flicked to the paper in his and.  "Tally Perez and Salyrin Jerdeis.  Cartare Mulson and Fina Lu.  Elphias Dare," Please be Rette, please be Rette, "and Margarette Waar."  Thank you!  She reached over, grabbed his hand, and squeezed the life out of it.

"This should be fun," she smirked.

•

Tyris walked on her tiptoes, into the lavish apartment she shared with her dad.  "Father?"  She called out.

"In here!"  She heard his reply sound from the kitchen. Odd, she thought.  She followed his voice, and found her father in front of the stove.

"What do you think you're doing?"  Tyris let out a small laugh. Her father turned around for a split second, amusement in his eyes. 

"What's it look like?  I'm cooking lunch, Ty."  Now she doubled over, a stitch in her side.  Her father only chuckled.  "Are you laughing at me?  Or my cooking skills?" 

"Isn't that rich," she said dryly.  "You think you have actual cooking skills."

He turned, a rare smile crossing his face, two plates in hand.  Tyris took one look, and gagged at the sight of congealed noodles.  "That bad, huh?" 

She picked up a fork, twisting it around in the dish.  "I don't think it's supposed to be a little brown." 

"Neither do I," Nix agreed.  "How about we order in?"  He looked at his daughter, and noticed how her eyes evaded his, bottom lip between her teeth.  "What is it?"  He asked,  worry evident in his words.

"Well, I just... wondered... Um, is that a new tie?"  She stalled.  "It matches your eyes so well."

"Get to the point, Tyris." 

"Could you possibly let me go to the subject party tonight?  Please?  Crissa and Dary are going, and so is practically my whole class."

Nix let out a sigh, forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nice. "Ty," he started.  "I've told you about the subjects."

"Father.  I'm seventeen!  And our school- you know, for the children of the leaders- doesn't have a single dance.  I won't talk to any of them," she promised.  "Just this once."  Nix mulled it over, thoroughly thinking it through. 

"Alright," he finally gave in.  "But this is the first and last time."  Tyris squealed. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"  She leaned over the counter to smack a kiss to his cheek.  "I'm meeting the girls at Dary's in an hour." 

"Alright.  Just be careful, darling.  Your safety is the number one priority."  He walked toward her, pulling his daughter into a huge hug, placing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.  Tyris was taken aback.  Acts of affection and her father rarely went together.

"I will."

"Um, I should head back to work."  An air of awkwardness settled atop them, and Nix promptly pulled away, leaving her standing in the kitchen, dumbfounded. 

•

"Let's go!"  Dare had thrown his bunk to the floor, and now he jumped up and down on it. 
"Party!"  He started dancing- or at least, Rette thought it was dancing. 

"Stop!"  Keaton laughed.  "My eyes are bleeding!"

Dare pointed to his friend.  "That's why you're a bloody fool, K!" He countered. Keaton raised his eyebrows, head bobbing.

"That was clever. I'll give you that."  He began applauding in a slow clap.  Dare bowed over, lopsided grin firmly in place. 

"Why, thank you, peasant."  He brought a hand to his heart, as if the words were the kindest thing he'd heard all year.  But Rette wasn't buying it.  She got up from her bed, walking with her hands behind her back, an air of regality surrounding her. 

"Who do you think you are, Elphias?"  She pursed her lips.  "If anyone is the leader of Shaw, it's me. Bow down to your queen, boys." As if putty in her hands, the boys fell to their knees. "That's much better."

"My Queen," Dare said, accentuating his accent, "what can we do to support her Majesty?"

"I don't know, but I'll think of something." Rette quickly dropped the faux royalty act, dropping to her knees beside her friends. "Now, let's go get ready to party."

•

"Ty, this is so cool!"  Crissa's eyes widened, and she threw her hands up in an exaggerated motion.  "Man, why doesn't our school do stuff like this?"  She grabbed Tryis's hand, and used it to gesture at the raging pink, blue, purple lights, and the huge dance floor.

"Because they're incompetent," Tyris muttered under her breathe.

"What?" her friend shouted over the music. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything." She raised her eyebrows, fake confusion written on her face. Like she would ever let her friend- whose father ran the education in Shaw- know what she said.

"She's just hearing things, Ty. Like usual," Dary smiled, already dancing to the beat. "Let's go party!"

"I'll meet you out there. I've got to find something." Tyris let the words flow before her, and turned away without letting her friends even respond. She was looking for something- someone- important.

On the way, she stopped to say hi to a few classmates, and was talking to one- a boy, Paros- when she spotted the familiar flop of dark curls. Immediately, she bid goodbye to Paros, trekking her way through the sea of bodies to Keaton.

His back was to her, so Tyris placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, and placed her lips against his ear. Keaton stiffened, but relief filled the air when she spoke. "I found you."

Keaton turned to her, a huge smile lighting his face, one that caused her heart to quicken its beating. "I'd like to introduce you to my friends," he said, and pulled her to two people standing not far away, talking and laughing. "Rette, Dare!" The pair turned their heads. "Come here."

Upon reaching them, the boy took in her appearance, from her blonde hair, to the grey sneakers that matched her eyes. A smirk crawled onto his lips. "Sailor. Who's this?" Tyris resisted the urge to roll her eyes. From the sound of his voice, she easily figured he was a traveler. 

Keaton opened his mouth to respond, but she beat him to it. "I'm Tryis."

"I don't think I've ever seen you in the Classes." The boy raised his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"She's not a subject. Fallow is her father," Keaton told his friend, whom responded with a crooked grin, a twinkle of humor in his eyes, and a shake of the head.

"Rebellion is sweet, isn't it?" he laughed.

"I suppose it is," she agreed.

"You're so stupid," the other girl hissed to her friend.  But when she turned to Tyris, the girl was all smiles.  "Hi.  I'm Rette Waar.  And this moron," she patted the guy's chest, "is Elphy."  And then she ran.

"I swear, Rette!"  And then 'Elphy' was off, barreling after her. 

Keaton laughed, and then, even harder as he saw the confusion on Tyris's face.  "We call him Dare, but his first name is Elphias.  It's kind of a running joke between the three of us." 

"Oh," was all she said. 

"Come on," Keaton chuckled.  "Dance with me."

•

"Rette, that is the last time you'll ever call me Elphy," he said to her. She brushed him off, scoffing.

"Yeah. We both know that'll never happen."

Dare's shoulders stopped, and he seemed child-like with the pout on his face. "I know." He kicked at the ground.

"Stop moping. What was so different this time I said it?" Rette questioned, arms crossing, eyes sharp.

"Well," he said, rather sheepishly, "Tyris was there, and you saw what she looked like.  I mean, those eyes-" He stopped as an indescribable emotion flitted across her face.  "Hold on a second.  Are you jealous?"

And the emotion was gone, Rette's green eyes becoming a shield.  "No, of course not," she said, too defensively to be believable.  "It's because Keaton likes her, and..."  Jealously, Dare noticed, in Rette, was a green-eyed monster, quite literally. 

"No, I believe you to be jealous."  He surveyed her a moment longer, stifling a smile when her cheeks reddened.  "Don't worry.  It looks good on you."  And the red grew darker.  "You want a drink?" 

He walked away, leaving Rette stand there with a million thoughts flying through her head.

•

"Tonight was fun.  Thank you," she said, head resting on the metal bad, turned towards him. 

"What did I do?"  Keaton wondered aloud. 

"You made it a lot more fun for me.  Dary and Crissa were going to spend all their time with who knows how many boys.  I knew it going it. So thanks for... putting up with me." 

"Tryis..." he said.  "I didn't put up with you.  I wanted to spend my time with you." 

"But you could've spent more time with Rette and Dare.  They're your best friends." 

He laughed, a nice rich sound that came from the very core of him.  "No, it wouldn't have been too fun for me.  The two of them just dance around the fact that they like each other."

"How do you-"

"Trust me.  I've been a confidante for the both of them since we were twelve." 

"So, they don't say anything?"  Tyris asked him.

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p.'  "I swear, they're too stubborn."  She giggled at the frustration clouding his tone. 

"Aggravating?"  A small smile played on her lips.

"You have no idea," Keaton grounded, placing his head against the cool metal of the rail.  "Can we not talk about those two?  They give me a headache." 

"Sure."

They moved on to trivial things like how he thought work would be like, and what she was  Classes interested in. 

Sometime later, Tyris yawned.  "What time is it?" 

Keaton pushed up his sleeve, displaying his watch, and checked the time.  "Look at that.  It's midnight."

"Really?"  All of the exhaustion seeped out of her eyes, and she leaned over, whispering in his ear, "Happy birthday, Keaton Sailor."  And she picked up her shoes, running from the terrace back to the observatory and to Shaw.

Keaton stared after her for a while, even though she was long gone.