For Sundance
Bo sat on the edge of the galley table, legs crossed at the ankle, coffee cooling between her hands. She’d been staring at the same corner of the bulkhead for a solid minute — not distracted, just… elsewhere.
Blade leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, watching her. She didn’t look up when she spoke. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one you get before a job.” Her tone was matter‑of‑fact, but there was a faint crease between her brows. “When you’ve already gamed out fifteen ways it can go wrong, and you’re packing for all of them.”
He didn’t move, didn’t break the stillness between them. Just let a slow, faint curve edge into the corner of his mouth. “Three clouds, two hard drives, and one SD card.”
That got her to glance up. “And that means…?”
“It means,” he said, pushing off the doorframe, “you’re safe in every place I can put you. Even if one burns, there’s two more. And if all else fails…” He stopped in front of her and tapped a finger lightly against his chest. “The last one stays with me.”
Her gaze held his for a long beat, searching. “That’s a lot of trouble to go to.”
“That’s redundancy.” His mouth quirked, but his eyes didn’t soften. “It’s how you make sure nothing important disappears.”
Bo took a slow sip of her coffee, as if tasting the words more than the drink. “Guess that makes me a file you can’t afford to lose.”
He gave a small, lopsided smile — the kind not meant for anyone else. “Exactly.”
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