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“I know what you thought. You thought some ghost could compare to you. I’ll say it again, so you hear it this time.

I’ve been waiting for you my whole life .

You think I’d ever, ever jeopardize that by even thinkin’ about another woman?

Not a chance.” I stroke her soft head. “Kitten, I need you to start trustin’ me.

‘Cause each time you doubt me is a punch in the dick. And it’s gettin’ kinda sore. ”

“I’m sorry,” she breathes. She wiggles until she’s in a better position to kiss me. Rains kisses over my mouth and jaw. “I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” I’ve got no illusions that this is the end of it. A wound that deep can’t be healed in one go. “Just work on it, kitten. Try for me.”

“I will. I promise I will, Hale. And I am so sorry. Please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about how this was hurting you.”

Neither did I, until I said it. But it was, and it is. I’m not so closed off from my feelings that I can’t recognize the damage her lack of trust is doing to me. “I’ll survive.”

She strokes the side of my face. “I know you will, because that’s what you do. But that doesn’t make it right. You give me everything and I haven’t been giving it back.”

“Kitten.” It’s hard to explain how much she gives me. She may not trust me with other women, but she trusts me completely with herself, and that trust is humbling. “You give me more than you could ever know.”

She smiles, and there it is, that sweet, sexy, mischievous grin. “I’d like to give you more.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Tonight, whatever you want. However you want it. But, you know, beyond tonight, I’d like to do something kind of permanent. Would you let me?”

“Permanent, huh?” I think through what permanent could entail.

Come up empty. “Kitten, you know I can’t contract with you.

” As soon as I say it, I know that has to change.

Whatever it takes, whatever I need to pay those little creepers in R-and-D, whoever I have to bribe or kill, I’m going to clear my name, so I can contract with Kez.

“I wasn’t thinking of that,” she says quickly. “And, jeez, no one should have to go through a Crackle. No, I thought, if you’d like it, I thought you could mark me. ”

“Mark you?” There are a couple of ways I could mark her.

Cutting. Branding. Both would be permanent.

I skim the backs of my fingers along the curve of her face, down her neck.

Appreciating the smoothness of her skin.

She’s got a love-hate relationship with her scars.

Until Doc Gray offered to regen the scar on her back, she hadn’t made any effort to get rid of them.

But they do make her self-conscious. Would adding another scar make it worse, or would it help her see her own beauty?

“Yeah, I’d like that. Course, it would have to be reciprocal. ”

“Reciprocal? I thought ... wait, do you want it to be reciprocal?”

“Yeah.” I’m not into pain, not the way she is.

But I can endure it when I need to. This wouldn’t be any hardship.

‘Sides, I bet if I asked Doc Gray he’d give me some anesthetic so it wouldn’t be so bad.

I’ve already decided what I want: a raised mark.

Something I can feel. A brand. I slide my fingers over her shoulder, under the wide strap of her nightgown.

“Here. So I can feel it every time I put my arms around you.”

“Okay,” she breathes. Her eyes have dilated, the way they do when she’s aroused. I’m glad she’s suggested this. Glad I’ve agreed.

“Matching brands. Where do you want mine?”

“Seriously?” she asks. When I smile, she pushes me onto my back, so she can rub her fingertips over my left deltoid.

There’s a roughened patch of skin there, where my company shield used to be, before I took three hits in the arm from some poor fucking miner who just wanted a shift that didn’t last thirty-six hours.

“Here,” she says. “Was this a holotat you had removed?”

I chuckle. “Not intentionally. I took a couple of hits there. That’s all that was left after they patched me up.”

Kez runs her fingertips over the scar, petal-light. “How many times have you been shot?”

“More’n I can remember.” I kept count for the first couple of years in SAWL After Phogath, I stopped counting. It was over thirty by then. More than the number of years I’d been alive. I wasn’t the most superstitious grunt, but I didn’t like that number. So I stopped counting.

“Is that why you’re not afraid of anything?”

“Everyone’s afraid of somethin’, kitten. Dyin’. The dark. Somethin’.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Lately the only thing that really scares me is the thought of losing Kez. “Spiders.”

She tilts her head to the side. “Spiders? Really.”

“Yeah, can’t stand the fuckers. On Phogath they had these little green ones. Use to nest up in your sinuses. I had to have a bunch cut out of my nose. Bastard motherfuckers.”

Kez squeezes her nose between her forefinger and thumb. “Ow.”

“Yeah. You sure you’re going to be okay with a brand?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

I don’t question her further. She knows her own mind, and I can see how this might be good for her. She learned to throw fire to deal with her fear after being burned. This might be more of the same.

“What is it going to be?” she asks.

“I’m thinkin’.” And I am. There are a couple of things that have already sprung to mind.

Numbers, shapes, symbols, that have meaning for us.

But none stick; none immediately feel right.

Then my mind seizes on a shape, and I know it’s the one.

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll sketch it out and show it to you in the morning. ”

“Show me now.” She holds out her hand, palm up.

I lean up on my elbow. Lace my fingers through hers and sketch with my thumb. Two parallel lines, and a crossbar. The ‘H’ of my initials. Then diagonal lines running from the crossbar to each end of the second upright line. The ‘K’ of her initials, superimposed over the ‘H’.

“Could the arrow point to my heart?” she asks. The ‘K’ does make a kind of arrow and it wouldn’t be any problem to position it so the arrow points to her heart. I’m not picky about which shoulder it goes on .

“Sure.” I’m already looking forward to it.

Sketching the design and cutting the metal.

Testing it on some soft hide so I can gauge the heat and how long to it hold it to get the mark I want.

And then, most exciting of all, doing it.

It’ll have to be part of our sex play. There’s no way I’m branding Kez without fucking her.

Speaking of which. “How’re you feeling now, kitten?”

“Good. Fine.”

I walk my fingers down to her hip. Begin gathering the soft material of her nightgown. “Not too tired?”

“No ... Hale?” Her grin lights up her voice. “Will you fuck me now?”

“No,” I say. “But I will make love to you.”