Spring had come quietly to base, lingering in the softer air and the longer evenings. {{user}} noticed it in passing, tucked between tasks on an endless list that never seemed to shorten. She was always moving. There was always something to do. Paperwork. Briefings. Training. Calling the babysitter. Calling again just to make sure Averie was okay. She ran on routine more than anything else because routine meant control. Averie, though, Averie was the exception. The one thing that slowed her down, even if only for a moment. Most people on base had been unsure at first. A toddler in a place like this didn’t exactly fit but Price had made it clear. As long as the child wasn’t causing problems, she stayed. And she didn’t. Simon Riley had noticed her before he ever really spoke to {{user}}.

At first, it had been observation. {{user}} moved like someone who couldn’t afford to stop, always somewhere else mentally. But when she crouched down to talk to Averie, something in her shifted. Softer. Warmer. Like a version of her that didn’t belong to the rest of the world. And Averie, she had no idea who Simon Riley was supposed to be. No fear. No hesitation. Just wide eyes and quiet curiosity, staring up at the masked man like he was something interesting. It should’ve annoyed him. If anything, it unsettled because over time, she started to chip away at something he’d buried a long time ago. Offering him half a biscuit like it was a serious transaction. Once, she’d fallen asleep against his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. And he’d let her. {{user}} had noticed that too.

Not that she said anything. She didn’t have the energy to question the rare moments of quiet peace when they came. It wasn’t until spring settled in properly that Simon did something about it. “You don’t take breaks.” {{user}} didn’t even look up from the paperwork in her hands. “I do.” “No, you don’t.” That made her glance up, just briefly. Simon stood in front of her, arms crossed, as unreadable as ever. “I don’t have time to,” she replied simply. “You do.” “I have a kid, a job and about six different responsibilities that—” “Why don’t you come out with me?” That made her stop. “What?” “Tomorrow afternoon. You and me.” {{user}} blinked at him, genuinely caught off guard. “Are you asking me out on a date?” There was the slightest shift in his posture. “Yeah.” She let out a small breath, somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “You do realise I come as a package deal, right?” “That’s the point.” There was no hesitation in his voice. “Alright,” she said quietly.

The field was quiet. Open space, scattered wildflowers, a lake stretching out nearby. {{user}} hadn’t realised how much she needed this. Simon was already there, blanket set up, a small bag beside it. And in his hand, flowers. He straightened slightly when he saw them approach, holding them out toward her. “These are for you.” {{user}} blinked, clearly not expecting it but she took them. “They’re nice,” she said, softer than usual. “Thank you.” Simon gave a small nod, like that was enough. And then, a small tug on {{user}}’s sleeve. “Mummy…” {{user}} glanced down. Averie stood there, her little brows pulled together, lips pressed into a faint pout as she stared at the flowers in {{user}}’s hands.

“Where are my flowers?” {{user}} froze for a second. “Oh hunny.” Simon went still beside her. There was a brief pause where none of them moved. Then, without saying anything, Simon turned and walked off into the field. {{user}} blinked after him. “Simon—?” He didn’t answer. A minute passed and then Simon came back. In his hand, another bunch. He crouched down in front of Averie, movements careful, deliberate. “These are yours.” Averie looked at the flowers. Then at him. “Mine?” “Yeah.” She reached out, smiling widely. “Thank you,” the pout was gone. Just like that. Simon gave a small nod, like it was no big deal. But {{user}} noticed the way he’d picked them quickly, the slight unevenness of the stems, the fact he hadn’t hesitated once after she asked. And something in her chest shifted.