Serene, Tranquil. Violent, Hurtful.

Yetta was, respectfully, ignoring her data pad as it chirped with message after message from Crow. "You're giving him the cold shoulder," Carman noticed. "That won't solve anything."

"Not trying to solve anything right now," the hunter answered. Twirling a lock of scarlet hair, she chewed on her lip. "Trying to figure out *how* exactly I'm supposed to work this out. I won't try until I have it all sorted. Damage control."

"Maybe, and this is just a suggestion, but maybe don't work it out alone." Carman rolled the pickup trinket's wheels on the dash, back and forth. Back and forth. "It took two to make this fuck up, and it'll take two to fix it." She stopped rolling it around. "But you're being stubborn, aren't you?"

"He started this, he can damn well finish it." Her dash chimed, and Yetta switched it off auto pilot. "We're here. Gonna look for a place to land now."

She gently eased her ship to the ground, looking for a clearing. There was one a fair distance away from where they needed to be. It would be a walk. Yetta half hoped whatever or whoever they were looking for traveled around. Carman stood up, grabbing her gun off the rack. Yetta followed once they were securely on the ground, grabbing a set of cuffs on her way down.

. . .

Yetta's ship just *had* to break down after they'd found the titan, leaving the three of them stranded while she tried to fix the damn thing. She yanked a wire out of its place, grumbling to herself angrily. Carman knelt beside her.

"Take a break," she offered. "I'll work on this, if you keep an eye on our friend."

The titan stood off to the side, grumbling softly. "I'm not your friend."

"Close enough," both women said at the same time. Yetta sighed, slipping out from under the ship. 

"Fine. Hopefully you can sort it out." She sat down, taking her gun into her hand, and twirling a knife with the other. She could hear the Accipiter's drone as it approached, and she sighed softly, tired. "I thought Crow was staying in the city?" she asked.

"He was supposed to," Carman slipped free, and sat up. "He's appreciated, however. I don't know what you did to your ship."

"What I did?"

"But maybe Crow can sort this all out."

. . .

He, in fact, did sort it out, and got the ship running again. Crow had dismissed Carman, sending her on the way home, with a promise of getting Yetta back safely. The warlock looked between the two, and he was pretty sure she was mentally narrowing her eyes. That "fix it" glare was placed on both of them. 

But when the ship finally left the ground, Crow released a deep breath, and rushed to hug Yetta. The huntress didn't hug back, releasing an audible, tired sigh. He let her go, taking her hands in his. "I've been an ass,' he admitted. Best to start honest.

"You have been," she agreed. Then, with a guilty hesitance, she admitted, "I have been, too."

"We both have. And I'll admit, I started this mess." He took a breath, and let go, reaching into his pocket. Yetta finally noted that he wasn't wearing any armor, surprisingly. Usually he did. His other hand went into that side's pocket, and he stepped back. "So, let me finish it. If you'll let me, I'd like to take you out tonight. Just the two of us. No vanguard, no missions. Just both of us."

"There's a catch to this, isn't there?"

"No catch. The only condition I'd have is that you let me talk this out with you. And that you wear the stuff I'm sending to your apartment," he said quickly. Yetta smiled softly, raising an eyebrow. 

"You're picking an outfit out?"

"Already picked it out," he admitted. "Heels, dress, everything."

Yetta chuckled softly, patting his cheek. "Should I be scared?"