But she can. She can, just by being there; by making him carry a blaster at all times, by making him jump at every sharp movement, by making his heart leap into his throat every time he sees a dark-haired woman in the bar, by forming a hard knot in his stomach that never leaves him.

If Winter weren't here, and away back in their galaxy; if his pilots weren't in a state of uproar -- he would not be here.



He doesn't raise his forehead from her arm.