There were complications from the fight at Grackle. Some of the other halls (D Hall and H Hall chief among them) were upset that the assignment wasn't put up for grabs. When Rafferty had passed Katrin on the stairs, she'd gotten a rather chilly look in return. Katrin, it seemed, was unhappy that if Rafferty was going to break the rules, she hadn't included her.
Max didn't care much for J Hall's self-appointment to this assignment, a fact he made clear when he launched into a scathing rebuke of the girls in the middle of the crowded dining hall. Rafferty had stepped up to him, looked him in the eye, and said "We needed this." He must have liked something in her tone or demeanor, because he had backed off, at least for the moment.
This, of course, caused further complications, as other girls grumbled that she was too in with the boss.
And Rafferty didn't care about any of it, because they had won. Together. Emphatically.
Max was gone now. He had taken some of the others and gone to Grackle. Things had gotten bad before Rafferty and her hallmates had taken down the War Pig. At least three people were dead.
Rafferty did care about that.
Sheridan had pointed out that there was no way they could have stopped that, and that if they hadn't gone, things could have gotten much, much worse.
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Sheridan had been trying to make Rafferty feel better, and Rafferty decided to let her. J Hall was rolling again, and that made Rafferty happy.
All right, and maybe Vincent did too.
He had been waiting outside her room when she got back from Grackle. Rafferty hadn't seen him in weeks.
"Where have you been?" she asked.
"Here. Waiting for you. Pining, really," he said, flashing that goofy smile.
"I meant before that," she said.
"Do you mean while you were fighting make believe animals, or while you were busy stealing this last mission for yourself?" he asked.
"I wanted to talk to you," she wasn't sure if she meant it as a complaint, but it sounded like one.
"I'm here now. Talk," he said.
"I…" she started.
Rafferty realized she had no idea what to say.
Vincent stepped close to her, and traced his thumb over the dark spot on her face, the one Rafferty now thought of as her character.
"You know, when they told me about all of the stuff that happened to you lately, I got really scared, even though I knew you must be perfectly fine. I mean, it's not like they were just going to forget to say 'Oh, yeah, she died' but I tell you, I was hanging on every word. I don't know what that means, but—"
In what might have been the most rash decision in her life, which for Rafferty was saying a lot, she had leaned forward, raised up, and kissed him.
It was only a moment before she pulled back. Fighting a sudden wave of shyness, she looked up at him. He bent down, and kissed her again, briefly and tenderly.
When they parted, she was smiling, and had to try hard not to laugh, though she had no idea why. She looked up at him again, and he was smiling too. She had been feeling good, and now she was feeling better.
She saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
Oh God, he's going to talk. No, no, no, no, no, no he's going to ruin it.
Almost panicking, she had leaned into him again, pressed her mouth hard against his, and run her tongue all the way along his lips.
That'll shut him up.
He was still standing there speechless when she slipped into her room and locked the door.
She hadn't talked to him again until the next day.
It was perfect.