The hours passed quickly enough. Lei had too much of a hangover headache to be a proper pain in the ass, and she was somewhat hazy on the details of the previous night, so Jor was careful to keep his comments neutral. His partner was a very singleminded individual, much like himself, but Jor really didn't want that mind focused on him, so he stayed mum and distracted Lei instead with a box of caramels he'd bought for her at the outpost store. That kept her busy, and Jor was free to daydream and procrastinate and in general do absolutely no work but a hell of a lot of thinking.

It should feel odd, but... it doesn't. I thought I wouldn't care to see anyone again, not after Wick. She's still my wife. That was true enough; he still wore their wedding band, and wasn't about to take it off any time soon. But still... I'm just going to see the girl. She seemed nice enough. She didn't yell at me once, or frown, or get angry. She just listened and smiled, like she was really interested. And... she was pretty. I'm just going to see her at dinner. I can have friends, even if they are girls. That last thought came a bit defensively, and Jor glanced at Lei, who had her chin propped in her hands and was busy snoring softly. Lei doesn't count.

His thoughts of Wick he put aside to be considered at a much later date-- which meant never when he was sober, and most likely when he was feeling drunk and depressed and lonely-- and did his best to bide his time until the day was over. Finally 1700 came, and even after escorting Lei home, taking a shower, getting dressed again in a clean uniform, trying to smooth down his moptop of curls, and pacing nervously in his room, Jor still arrived at the Requisition Division offices fifteen minutes early.

He was not one to wait. In typical fashion, with much the same mindset that most of the M.E. officers and CS-grads took, he assumed that he could just walk in and conduct his business. That was exactly what he did. Jor just acted like he knew where he was going, sauntered in, and then spent a good five minutes wandering around aimlessly until he found a section full of people typing frantically on computers. Didn't analysts use computers?

The Lakshmi had limped into the dock at Sunjawa with enough battle damage to put a less expensive ship out of commission. It was the third ship in the last six months that had come in injured from skirmishes with the renegades that liked to tug at the backwater hem of IF territory. There were always rumors just after one of them came in that the powers that be were going to send in some help, but it never seemed to come through, and instead of getting new ships or an increase in funding, they had to keep repairing and sending out older vessels.

That was where Heather and the rest of her team came in. They got the upgrade requests from the captains after they'd been approved by the higher-ups. There were always too many requests and too little capital, but at least the IF accountants did all the screening beforehand. Heather didn't have to tell someone they couldn't have something. She just had to find a way to get it for them.

What the captains wanted was always the same; more speed, more firepower, better armor, and, if possible, a new ship. If asked for her opinion (and she never was), Heather would have told each one that she'd rather go out in a tested ship with armaments she'd arranged for than any new ship the IF came out with. Many of the old designs still had a lot going for them, age aside. The newer ships were also more cheaply made, and that money had to come out of something. None of that really mattered; Heather didn't go out on ships, and she didn't design them. She was just a cog in the paperwork wheel - but an indispensable one.

The Lakshmi needed re-armoring. That could be done at the port, and it wasn't one of the areas she was willing to skimp on. Having a gun fail you in combat was one thing; having the hull fail you was generally worse. It also needed a replacement aft medium artillery array and an engine casing. The engineers had reported that the engine itself was repairable, and the nearest replacement was four sectors away; in space, postage was cheap, but that was a formidable distance to move anything, let alone a new engine that cost more than it was worth. The engineers at Sunjawa were good; the repaired engine would function to specifications. There were also several inexpensive upgrades that had been suggested by some of the IF Engineering Corps that had been added since the Lakshmi was last overhauled; those were forwarded with the approval for the mechanics to review.

The casing was a different matter. She'd managed to locate a similar model engine casing in a nearby salvage, and it would be delivered to Sunjawa a day before the engine repair was scheduled for completion. There were some small modifications that would need to be made before it would fit properly, but that was standard in places like Sunjawa. The IF was like a big family; almost everyone got hand-me-downs. Only the most favored of children got new clothes.

However, after doing the necessary scrounging and tedious number crunching to get the rest of the parts the ship needed, Heather had managed to conserve a tidy amount of budget to replace the artillery array. She didn't splurge - Heather never splurged - but an old battlecruiser had been decommissioned at Sunjawa less than eight months ago, and it still had a heavy artillery array no one had snatched yet, and she managed to arrange a transfer. So many old ships were overlooked in favor of new material. The guns themselves were at least twenty years old, and an age like that was a big turn-off to the quick shopper. Heather, on the other hand, knew they had a greater range and a much heavier caliber capacity than the medium artillery the Lakshmi had carried before; the equipment was older, but it had an excellent service record and it was in very good condition.

When she was done, the Lakshmi was slower than it had been before - the increased mass from the new guns would increase the time it took to accelerate - but the upgrades to the engines would make that decrease in speed negligible. It also had new armor, a complete checkup and a slightly improved processor for the ship's computer. All it needed was a good wash and some paint.

Sometimes Heather liked her job.

"Heather...?" Susan's incredulous voice pierced her bubble of enjoyment and she looked at her friend a little impatiently.

"What?" The look on Susan's face gave her pause, and she closed her program and gave her full attention. "What is it?"

Susan scampered over to her chair and whispered to her in a scandalized tone. "There's a guy here to see you! What happened last night?! He's gorgeous! Why didn't you tell me?" Susan pouted. "I thought I was your best friend! Did you go home with him? He couldn't have come home with you! He doesn't look like the quiet type." Susan grinned rogueishly and Heather blushed.

"Of course I didn't! I just met him last night." Susan's expression cast heavy aspersions on her avowed chastity, but Heather tried to ignore her and stood up, attempting to peek around the edge of her cube.

There he was, standing near Susan's desk, turning her paperweight over in hands the size of dinner plates and looking restless.

Wow. He's actually here. He actually came.

"Well?" said Susan in a voice entirely too loud for Heather's taste. "Go on, idiot! He doesn't look like the patient type either. Just don't let him break you or anything. Not permanently, anyway. Christ, he's big. Where did you find him? Never mind, just go on, and I want details. I mean details. Go!" She shoved Heather out into open and followed, smiling and giving Heather helpful pushes until Jor saw her and she had to walk on her own.

Heather approached Jor a little shyly and smiled. Susan returned to her desk. "Here she is. You guys have a good time." Susan grinned at Heather licentiously and Heather widened her eyes in her best "I'm going to kill you later" look and followed Jor out into the hallway.

Susan teased her constantly, but Heather could tell her friend was ecstatic for her. She kept pressing Heather for details, and making snide disbelieving comments about her protests that there were no details to tell. Jor always picked her up at work, and Susan was almost always there to cast insinuating looks when she thought Jor wasn't looking. Today, he was running a little late, and Susan didn't miss the opportunity to taunt her.

"Your stallion's late today, sweetie. Wear him out last night?" Heather gave her the same tolerantly amused smile she always did and gave her standard reply. "Yeah, Sue, it's a long walk back to his room alone." Susan smirked. "Longer every night, I'll bet." Her expression became slightly more serious. "Seriously, what's the hold up? I see you two making out in the hallway when he comes to drop you off." Heather made a little squeak of embarrassed surprise and blushed, but Susan waved it off. "Come on, you're my best friend. I'm allowed to spy on you." She dropped her voice a few decibels - a rare thing - and leaned in. "So what is it, huh? C'mon, you can tell me, and I'll help you figure out a way around it." Heather's wry grin was met with a sweet smile.

"Do you ever think about anything else?" "Never."

Heather put her system on standby and Susan automatically moved closer so they could share a private conversation. Most of the other staff had already gone home, but Sue knew she was more comfortable when she could speak quietly.

"The truth is," she began in a low voice, "he's married - but separated!" Susan's eyes, which had been on the way to dangerously goggled, settled back to almost normal. "But I think he's still a little upset - well, a lot upset, really - and I don't want to...to get into anything too fast, you know?"

Susan digested this information. "And is that because you're scared for him, or scared for you?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe both. I mean, what if he suddenly decides he's not ready?"

Susan grinned at her "I think I've got your answer. Guys are always ready, even when they say they're not, and the fastest way to get him over his stupid wife who somehow let him get away is to point out to him there's something better right in front of him. And the best way to do that is to remind him what's he's got in front of him." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Look below his belly button."

Heather rolled her eyes and made an offended noise, and Susan giggled and went back towards her desk in time to greet Jor on his way in. Heather was about to say hello when Susan managed to trip herself. Jor caught her easily and automatically, but he immediately stood her on her feet just a little too far away for her to lean on him.

"Oh, my, thank you so much, these carpets are killers!" Jor gave Susan a faint smile, and Susan adopted her "hunting" smile and batted her eyelashes. "How are you, Jor?"

Speaking of Heather. She was standing just a bit behind Susan, watching them both closely. Jor immediately turned his attention to her, grinning broadly when she met his gaze. "Hey, you," he said affectionately, pushing past Susan to hug Heather to him, and she hugged him back and smiled up at him. "Ready? I thought we could have dinner then go see the new vid. It has motorcycles in it, just like the one I have, and--"

"Don't you look lovely this morning? You've got this...glow..." Susan's smile was triumphant and teasing, and Heather grinned guiltily. "I knew it! Tell me! Tell me!"

Susan had attached herself to Heather's arm, and Heather pulled free determinedly. "Come on, Susan. You know me better than that." "What do you mean, better? You can't be that good. I didn't hear a thing." Heather's tolerance began to fray, and she frowned a little. "Seriously, Susan." Susan pshawed. "Just a few little details, that's all I ask!" Her eyes sparkled in merriment. "Was he an officer or a gentleman?"

With a small sound of disgust, Heather turned away and walked down the hall.

Susan pouted all morning. Around ten o' clock Heather got an email from her containing a long and drawn out apology explaining that Susan would be performing hari kari at nineteen hundred and there would be cucumber sandwiches and wouldn't she please forgive her? Heather wrote back suggesting ham sandwiches. Susan offered to buy her a ham sandwich that she could eat during the ceremony. Heather informed Susan she had an excellent fillet knife she could borrow. The subsequent volley of emails worked out the details - the plastic to avoid soiling the carpet, the candles, mood music, a select guest list - and eventually they agreed to meet over lunch to discuss the final arrangements.

Later, after lunch at Susan's expense, Heather allowed the tiniest quirk of a smile through. She'd been fighting it for over an hour, and quickly the accumulated buildup broke through and made it a grin.

"Do you really want to know?"

Susan grinned back. "I'm dying to know."

"Tonight at seven," Heather agreed, and then grew more sober. "It was wonderful. Really wonderful." She met her friend's eyes, and Susan practically levitated with happiness. "Yes! Wonderful! That's what I wanted to know!" Susan took a better look at Heather and got more serious. "You look all starry. It's only been three weeks, you know." "I know...but he's...he's perfect, Susan. He's different. I...I really like him."