When Kincade cut off the transmission, Mirabelle looked at him with reproach. "You didn't let me talk to him."

Kincade looked back to her. "Buster is tricky. He took down an elite mercenary squadron by himself. Until he's either dead or in handcuffs, we need to keep him in the dark as much as possible. I understand that you're mad at him, but that means that you're more likely to mess up and let something slip. Sometimes without even realizing it. Ask me how I know how that happens!"

He had tried to diffuse the tension with a disarming grin and some self-deprecating humor, but Mirabelle just glared at him. "Ok. Well, sorry I'm so unprofessional."

This wasn't how Mirabelle had acted when they were friends in college. Buster must have really done a number on her to make her this furious about him.

"It's your first job, you're doing great so far. Just let me handle the talking, and you can handle the burning if it comes to it." he assured her.

Mirabelle stormed off to her quarters, not wanting to argue but burning with anger.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

She had been looking forward to seeing a Buster Harkness that was as scared and hurt as she felt. She wanted to see him begging for his life on his knees as he cried. She had hoped that months of being detained by the humans would leave him looking weak and frail.

She hadn't gotten any of that. Instead, he was playing games. Toying with them. Even now, he wouldn't respect her. He looked better than he had when she had known him. Their threats didn't even make him flinch.

That was when she decided: Buster was going to die. Even if he surrendered, she was going to torch him. Kincade could get as mad at her as he wanted, she didn't care. She didn't care about the money she would lose. She didn't care about ending her new career as a Freelancer before it even began.

All she cared about was getting rid of this singular focus of anger and resentment. As long as Buster Harkness lived, she would never know peace. The anger that filled her always found its way back to him. It was his fault her new relationships failed, she had wasted her 20s with Buster instead of playing the field. It was his fault she couldn't find a job, he had let her waste her 20s pursuing a dream that obviously was never going to happen. It was his fault that she came back from her mother's funeral to messages telling her to kill herself for sleeping with a traitor.

Once he was gone, she could finally begin building a new life. She was almost there. She was almost free.