“Stealing.”
“I prefer ‘creative acquisition.’“ He flashed her a grin. “Much more dignified.”
She laughed, the sound bright and unexpected in the cramped cabin, and he joined her. Ari stopped fussing, her large dark eyes turning towards him with infant curiosity.
“She likes you,” she said softly. “She calms down when you’re near.”
“She has good taste.”
“And terrible judgment, apparently.”
He placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me, Emma Carter. Here I am, crafting makeshift infant care supplies with my own two hands, and this is the thanks I receive?”
“Would you prefer a medal?”
“I’d prefer acknowledgment of my obvious genius.” He held up the completed bottle-contraption, examining it critically. “This should work. Now let’s see if the replicator can provide formula.”
The replicator required some persuasion since Aurelian nutritional requirements weren’t in its standard database, but he managed to extrapolate from related species data and create something that the medical scanner deemed “probably acceptable.” Not the ringing endorsement he’d hoped for, but better than nothing.
He handed the bottle to her, watching as she positioned it near the baby’s mouth. The baby latched on enthusiastically.
“It’s working,” she breathed. “Oh, thank God, it’s working.”
“Was there any doubt?”
“Yes. Significant doubt.”
He should have been offended, but the relief in her voice was too genuine to mock. She looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Thank you,” she said. “I know you keep saying not to thank you, but... thank you.”
Something unfamiliar shifted in his chest. He wasn’t used to gratitude, or people looking at him like he’d done something genuinely good.
“Don’t mention it.” He turned away, busying himself with the remaining supplies. “We should figure out the diaper situation next. Unless you want to keep washing that fabric by hand for the next eighteen hours.”
“I was trying not to think about that.”
“Unfortunately, biology waits for no one.” He pulled out a bolt of absorbent material, probably intended for cleaning up fuel spills. “This should work. If I cut it into the right shape and rig some kind of fastening system...”
“You’ve done this before?”
“Made diapers?” He laughed. “No. But I’ve done my share of improvising. Different materials, same principle.”
He worked in silence for a while, measuring and cutting while she fed the baby. The quiet felt comfortable somehow, domestic in a way he’d never experienced. His childhood had been a battle for survival and he’d spent most of his adult life alone or in the company of people he didn’t trust. Having someone simply... present, without agenda or threat, was oddly pleasant.
Don’t get used to it,he warned himself.This is only temporary.
“There.” He held up a stack of makeshift diapers, crude but functional. “They should last until we reach Bragar’s Rest.”
“You’re amazing.”
“I know.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Has anyone ever told you that you have an ego problem?”
“Frequently. I consider it a feature, not a bug.”
Ari finished eating, her small body going limp with satisfied exhaustion. Emma shifted her to one shoulder, patting her back gently until a tiny burp emerged.
