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“If you can’t see any version of that in your world without Belos, what about starting here and becoming a respected Warden, looked up to for your wisdom and experience graduating inmates?” Malcolm asks.

She shakes her head:

“I don’t like people. Here OR in my world. Most of them are irritating or annoying and chances are I will get an inmate I can’t stand.”

"Has that ever happened to anyone here?" Malcolm asks.

"I'm sure it has! But you - you like everyone."

She says it like an accusation.

He frowns faintly. “That hasn’t been my experience at all, actually. What makes you think so?”

"Because you're irritatingly nice to everyone." She stares back hard at Malcolm's phone, wishing now she wasn't so quick to give up yoga. This conversation is so much worse. Kikimora decides she needs to stop having conversations this early: it leaves her vulnerable.

"You would have liked any inmate that fell into your lap."

“Being nice to everyone isn’t the same as liking everyone. And everyone certainly doesn’t like me. Off the top of my head, I can think of…. Five inmates I would have been miserable being paired with. But I didn’t get paired with them. They put me with someone I already liked who needed me. I think pairings are one of the things the Admiral actually seems to get right,” Malcolm concedes.

Oh.

All right, well. It's too much for her to say the appropriate thing back - I like you too - even if it's the truth. She pretends she's rubbing sleep from her eyes, flushed with embarrassment.

He likes her. He doesn't have to, per his own admission, but Malcolm likes her. She hadn't been sure until this moment whether it was him doing his wardenly duties or whether his feelings had been genuine.

"One of the few things.." She mutters, to turn the conversation away from the ache in her chest.

“You won’t get any argument from me,” Malcolm tells her warmly. “But you should go drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold.” He gives her an out.

She recognizes the escape for what it is, and though there's some resentment for not having come up with a way out herself, she still takes it.

Kikimora stands up, picking her mug up with her.

"I'll leave you to your yoga." She says, stiffly and with careful lack of emotion.

He smiles. "I do it every morning if you ever feel like trying it again. A few times a week up on deck with a group!" Because she loves groups as much as yoga.

Oh, not in a million years.

"I doubt it. Thank you for the offer, warden." Says Kikimora, escaping back upstairs with her hot chocolate.

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