The sun hadn’t even started to rise by the time Thirteen awoke from her slumber. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered her; her life had been regimented so much during her time in the military that her body had an almost unnatural sense of when it was time to wake up. She was used to getting her six hours of sleep, then waking up and going straight to the gym or some other form of training.

But she wasn’t in the military anymore, and that meant that she had nothing to do upon waking.

Thirteen laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling as the minutes ticked by. The entire time, she tried desperately to think of something to do, but completely failed. Captain Anders didn’t seem to have a gym in his home, let alone a gun range she could practice in, and that meant she was utterly devoid of anything to keep her occupied aside from lying in bed and counting the ceiling tiles until the sun rose.

And that was precisely what she did. She laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling, her artificial eye’s night vision capabilities allowing her to make the features of the plaster out despite the lack of any kind of light source. Naturally, counting the tiles didn’t keep her occupied for long; when she ran out of tiles to count after just a few minutes, she resorted to counting the imperfections in them instead.It was utterly mind-numbing. Surely, this wasn’t what civilians did in their free time, though she had no idea what else they could do other than that.

Finally, just as the sun started to rise, she heard a noise from down the hall. Immediately, she perked up, expecting it would be Captain Anders. If nothing else, she could ask him what to do. With that in mind, Thirteen rose out of bed and turned on the lights before slipping on her eyepatch, then threw the door open and stepped out into the hall, looking for Captain Anders.

“Captain.”

There was a tired groan from down the hall, around the corner. “For the hundredth time, don’t address me by my rank or by Sir. Please. I am not in the military anymore, and neither are you, so you don’t need to do that.”

Thirteen tilted her head. “How should I address you, then?”

“Just call me by my first name, damn it.” He gave a frustrated sigh. “Fuck, and it’s only the second day…”

She heard him messing with some machine, and tilted her head again. Curious, she stepped out around the corner, heading for the kitchen, where she’d heard his voice coming from.

“Eric.”

“Ye- Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed as she stepped into view. He flushed red, then abruptly turned away.

“Eric,” she repeated.

He held up a hand, the entire time still refusing to look in her direction. “You’re naked!”

Thirteen blinked, then looked down at herself before looking back to him. “Yes.”

“So go put some clothes on! They didn’t just let you walk around like that on the ship, did they? Consider the same rule in effect in this house.”

Thirteen blinked again. Truthfully, her and the other Angels generally slept in their cryo pods when they weren’t being actively deployed or about to be, and the pods necessitated that their users be naked. They’d all grown used to walking around in either full armor or nothing at all, with few exceptions.

But again, that was while she was in the military, which she obviously wasn’t anymore.

“Apologies,” she softly offered, his discomfort plain to her now.

Eric waved her off, again without looking. “Just… go put some clothes on, please. I’ll have breakfast ready in a bit.”

Thirteen nodded, then marched back to her room and threw on some simple clothes the OVA had provided for her. It was nothing fancy, just a plain olive drab shirt emblazoned with the Marine Corps logo, and some matching pants. Once she’d been dressed, she turned and stepped back out into the hallway, heading for the kitchen.By the time she got there, Eric had already set a place at his table for her, directly across from him. He’d provided her a plate filled with what appeared to be eggs and toast; nothing she hadn’t eaten before.

Truthfully, though, she’d always preferred her ration bars to any regular food. The ration bars were tasteless, sure, but they were packed with calories and essential vitamins and nutrients, which was worth more to her than whatever enjoyment she would have otherwise gotten out of eating normal food.

Still, she knew better than to turn her nose up at an offered meal, and not just because she didn’t want to risk upsetting Eric further after what had happened earlier. With that in mind, she took a seat across from him and began to eat. As she ate, she became idly aware of Eric having paused in order to watch her. She froze, her fork mid-way to her mouth, and stared at him.

“Eric?”

“It’s nothing,” he hurriedly said. “Just… I’ve never seen anyone enjoy eggs and toast this much.”

Thirteen blinked. “...Are you referring to how fast I am eating?”

“I am. You’re shoveling that stuff down like you’ve never eaten before. They weren’t starving you in the military, were they?”

Thirteen shook her head. “No. I was always kept well-fed, even above the commanding officers. It was determined that myself and the other Angels were too valuable to not have in top condition at all times. Our diets were carefully monitored, and-”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Eric held up a hand, silencing her. “I get it,” he offered tiredly. “Just… if you want more, I can make more. That’s not an issue, especially not since the government’s paying for it. Just let me know.”

Thirteen nodded. “Affirmative.”

The two of them ate in silence after that. When they were done, he offered to make her more breakfast, but she refused. Instead, she stood back and watched as he cleaned up the kitchen.

“You just gonna stand there all day?” he asked as he hunched over the sink, scrubbing out the pan he’d used to cook the eggs.

Thirteen stared at him. “I do not know,” she confessed.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“Is that what civilians do?”

Eric paused, then looked back at her over his shoulder. “The hell are you talking about? No, people do not just stand around all day when they aren’t eating or sleeping.”

“What do they do?”

“All kinds of things. Depends on who you’re asking, I suppose.”

Thirteen continued to stare at him, her question unanswered. After a moment of silence, she said, “What do you do?”

“That’s a difficult question to answer,” Eric said, again without looking back. “Sometimes I’ll watch TV or browse the internet. Sometimes I’ll read a book. Occasionally I’ll go for a walk. But mostly, I put up with my annoying handler trying to get me out of the house, for whatever reason.”

“Handler?”

“Yeah, you’ve met her. Her name’s Rosa, and she’s a massive pain in the ass. I only keep her as my handler because she’s the kind of pain in the ass that I can get used to.”

Eric finished scrubbing out the pan, then set it aside and turned off the sink. He wiped his hands on a nearby dish towel, then turned to her.

“You act as if this is all new to you,” he noted. “Did you really not do anything aside from go on missions when you were in the military?”

Thirteen shook her head. “Any downtime was spent training and preparing for the next mission. Otherwise, we were all asleep in our cryo pods.”

Eric stared at her for a moment, an eyebrow raised. “...How long were you in the military, exactly?”

“Classified,” she instantly replied.

“Right, of course…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “One of these days, I’m going to request an unredacted version of your file, not even with the intention to actually get it, but rather to see the look on Rosa’s face when I put in the request…” He shook his head. “Look, I wasn’t planning on doing much today, aside from maybe hitting up the liquor store, since I think I need to restock. I suppose you can come with me if you’d like.”

Thirteen considered his offer for a moment before nodding.

After all, if she was going to be living with him for the time being, then it would pay to do a little bit of recon.

It was a few hours later, when the store had opened, that Eric had directed her towards his car and started the drive to the store. Thirteen shifted in her seat as he drove, uncomfortable. She’d ridden in plenty of land vehicles before, not to mention driven her fair share of them as well, but this vehicle seemed downright fragile compared to those.

“What kind of vehicle is this?” she asked.

“This?” Eric asked, not taking his gaze away from the road. “This is an old car that’s been passed down through my family for generations. My father owned it before me, and his father before him, and his father before him, and so on. If I remember right, one of my past ancestors was a police officer, and this was his squad car; he bought it off the department when he left the force, since they were retiring the car in favor of something new… In any case, it’s been through a fair amount of changes ever since then; the only thing still original on it is the body. Everything else got replaced as parts failed and became increasingly impossible to get.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I think it’s called a Crown Vic? Something like that.”

Thirteen shifted again. “...And what is it rated for?”

“Rated for?” Eric echoed. “Uh… well, it’s not exactly an off-road vehicle, but it gets the job done-”

She shook her head. “No. Will the body stop at least a thirty caliber projectile? It is clearly not rated for plasma, but-”

“Oh, no,” Eric explained. “This isn’t that kind of vehicle, it’s really not rated for anything like that. It’s strictly for transportation.”

“And what of its armament?”

“Non-existent. They’d never let a civilian walk around with that kind of firepower.”

Before she could ask any more questions, Eric pulled in front of a store, then put the car in park before shutting it off. He unbuckled his seat belt, then stepped out, motioning for her to follow him.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get this over with.”

Thirteen said nothing in response, instead following after him as he entered the store.

They spent roughly fifteen minutes shopping, Eric taking a small cart and filling it with bottles of his choice. Thirteen eyed the shelves with curiosity, unsure of what she was looking at. She’d seen other soldiers and Marines drinking alcohol before, but they’d come in much smaller glass bottles; a few of them had tried to offer her and the other Angels a taste, but they’d always refused, knowing that alcohol wasn’t in their diets. And more than that, alcohol was an intoxicant, and would impact their combat effectiveness if consumed; one more reason to stay away from it.

She turned her gaze away from the shelves as Eric put another bottle in the cart. She gazed at everything he’d selected.

“What is all that?”

“A little bit of everything,” Eric told her. “Government’s paying for it, after all, so might as well splurge. Of course, the good stuff is hard to find these days, but thankfully, I’m not picky about what I’m drinking.”

He picked yet another bottle, bringing his total up to six. Once that was done, he nodded to himself. “Alright, that should do it for now. Let’s go pay and get out of here.”

Thirteen nodded, then followed after him as he approached the front counter and began to pile it high with the bottles he’d collected. He’d just about set the last one on the counter when someone emerged from the back room, then approached, a grin on his face.

“Well, look who it is,” he said, offering Eric a hand.

“Miles,” Eric said, surprised. He accepted the handshake. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Broke my foot working on the house,” Miles answered. “Dropped a piece of tile on it – shit wasn’t pretty. Melanie about cried her eyes out when she saw it.”

“Shit, man. Everything good now?”

“Yup, it’s healed up nicely.” Miles finally seemed to notice her standing there, and turned towards her, surprised. “Who’s this? New piece? I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

Thirteen tilted her head at the term, unsure of what it meant. Eric cleared his throat.

“She’s a guest, Miles,” he explained. “She’ll be staying with me for a bit while she gets back on her feet, nothing more.”

Miles nodded in understanding. “Ah, I see – she’s military. Friend of yours from your time in the service?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Eric passed him a plastic card of some kind, and Miles scanned it before handing it back. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem,” Miles said as Eric gathered up his alcohol and went to leave. “Good to see you again, by the way.”

Eric waved him off, then motioned for Thirteen to follow him. She did, piling into his car as he loaded up the trunk. Once that was done, he got in the driver’s seat, then let out a heavy sigh as he started the car up.

“Fucking Miles…” he muttered. “Dude never knows what he’s saying…”

Thirteen said nothing in response, instead falling silent as Eric pulled the car out and began to drive them home.

Somehow, she suspected this was still not what most civilians did in their spare time.