Too familiar, perhaps.

Jessica folded her arms. "So this is unfortunate."

Reed glanced around as though checking whether something else had happened. "The quarters?"

"The neighbor."

He laughed and settled one shoulder against the doorframe. "You'll adjust."

That confidence should have irritated her more than it did. "I'm sure that's what people tell themselves about chronic conditions."

"See? We're already bonding."

Jessica rolled her eyes, but there was little force behind it.

A comfortable quiet settled between them after that. Reed didn't rush to fill it and Jessica didn't feel any particular need to. From somewhere farther down the deck came the muffled sound of people leaving the gym, followed by a burst of laughter and then quiet again. The normal background noise of the ship carried beneath everything else.

For a brief moment, standing there opposite him, the corridor felt less like a passageway aboard a starship and more like a shared bit of space between two homes.

Jessica immediately disliked the thought, mostly because she didn't entirely dislike the feeling.

Reed eventually glanced down the corridor toward the crew lounge and mentioned that he still hadn't tested the coffee there. Jessica reminded him that nothing was stopping him, which earned her another amused look.

"I was thinking you could come with me."

There it was. Not complicated. Not even particularly surprising. Coffee.

Jessica's instinctive answer arrived immediately: she had things to do. That was true. There were cases to unpack, equipment to finish checking, reports she could read and probably a dozen other small tasks she could invent if necessary.

She also recognized the instinct for what it was.

Work had always been an efficient way to avoid deciding whether she actually wanted someone's company. The irritating part was that this time she already knew the answer.

Reed didn't press while she considered it. He simply waited.

Jessica glanced back at the disorder inside her quarters and then toward him again. "Later. If I get all of this dealt with."

He nodded. "Twenty hundred?"

She made a quiet sound that committed to absolutely nothing.

Reed took it as a yes anyway.

Jessica let him.

That was probably mistake number two.

She pushed away from the doorway and reached for the door control, intending to get at least some of the unpacking finished before she found another excuse not to.

"Jessica."

She glanced back. Reed was still standing there, and the expression on his face told her immediately that whatever came next was going to annoy her.

"Keep the noise down over there."

Jessica stared at him for a long moment, then touched the control. "I've changed my mind about the coffee."

His laughter followed the doors closed.

The quarters became quiet again, and Jessica stood near the entrance for several seconds, looking at nothing in particular. This was what she'd wanted when she came back down here: somewhere she could work without interruption.

And now she was far too aware that Reed was directly on the other side of the corridor, probably opening that battered crate he'd spent who knew how long avoiding.

Or, knowing him, finding somewhere new to leave it unopened.

She shook her head and crossed to the desk. The cipher machine was waiting exactly where she'd left it—predictable, mechanical, logical. A problem with rules.

Much easier.

Jessica sat, picked up one of her tools and tried to return her attention to the work in front of her. A minute later she realized she was smiling.

She stopped.

No. Three days. She had been there for three days.

Her eyes drifted toward the closed door.

Three meters away.

Wonderful.