Sometime after parting ways, Maeve followed Jordan through the darkened and creepy mall. Her anxiety boiled into acid reflux; she half-expected infected to pop out from behind corners and make meals out of them. She didn't know how much her nails and cuticles could take.

Jordan evaded each of the questions she sent his way. His secretiveness began to edge her nerves. He'd been this way since Winston's tent in the food court. He dodged them like he was dodging bullets.

For some time, she had to keep a fast pace to even stay in earshot of him, with his long legs allowing him at least five feet ahead of her constantly. "You still not gonna tell me where you're taking me?"

"Nope," he responded, popping the 'p' at the end.

"You'd tell me if you decided to hack me to death, right?"

"Why do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

"I mean, you're not wanting to answer me, for one," Maeve chirped. "And secondly, you're being very suspicious. Anything could've changed with you while your 'Firefly' training."

Jordan chuckled breathily. He said nothing to defend himself. It only worsened her anxiety. But then he peered over his shoulder, smiling just a smidge. "Only thing that changed, amor, is my view of the world."

"View of the world?" She repeated carefully.

He hummed, nodding. "It's a terrifying place. I've seen enough shit to fuel my nightmares...for years. I know you've seen a lot too, but out there..."

"I get it. But I also haven't been outside the QZ," and then she cleared her throat, a devilish smiled piquing her lips. "So, Fly Boy, how's it feel?"

"How's what feel?"

"Being an insect."

"Oh, it's pretty great," Jordan snorted. "As long as I can annoy you, I'm okay with a bug's life."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, not realizing he had paused in the middle of the walkway. She walked directly into his back. "Oof! Ow, hey, why'd you stop?"

"We're here, Mariposa - my apology present."

"Apology what?" Maeve lifted her light, finding a roll-up gate with a broken, busted sign about the closed-off entrance; half the letter had gone, but she still see the imprint of the missing digits. It took her a second to realize it was a shop. She eyed the sign, confusion flooding her body.

"What the hell's a 'hot topic'?"

"It's, uh," he chuckled. "It used to be a teen store, it was popular before the outbreak. It's got badass merch and stuff. You'll love it."

"Well, how am I supposed to love it if it's closed off?" Maeve watched him bring out a small object from his pocket. He pinched it between his fingertips. A key, she realized. "How is a key going to help?"

"To get in, duh." He crouched down, took hold of the padlock, and unlocked the gate shut. He yanked the lock off, tossing it to the side. It clanked against the tiles. He took hold of the handles at the bottom of the gate, gave Maeve a boyishly smug grin, and then shoved the metal door upward.

An earsplitting, metallic squeal ripped through the air. The gate squealed so deafeningly, that it could probably be heard from just about anywhere in the mall. The teens froze in fear, not expecting the door to make such a racket. They looked at each other, sharing identical expressions of terror.

"Are there any infected here?" Maeve aimed the beam of her light down the halls, both ways just to make sure.

"Let's not wait around to find out," Jordan grunted, grimacing as he shoved the door the rest of the way up. The squealing ceased to be silent.

Maeve, despite the fear rising in her, glanced back at Jordan. He straightened himself out, wiping his hands on his jeans. He stood taller than her, towering over her so easily. Finally, he turned to her, smiling down at her as if to ease her nerves. It didn't. But him holding his hand out for her kind of did. She flashed an unsure half-smile and slid her hand onto his. He laced his fingers through hers and gave a gentle, but protective squeeze.

"It's gonna be okay, Amor," He assured her. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"What about you?"

"With you here, I've nothing to fear." At that, she smiled. He always put on a brave face when he clearly was just as terrified as she was.

"What a charmer."

"Only for you."

He chuckled. "C'mon, I got something for you."

"It's not a blunt object to my cranium, is it?" She giggled, despite still being jittery over the door.

"Mi amor, you have such homicidal thoughts."

"Just making sure I go out by a non-fungal person," she said and leaned into him. "I'm also being cautious."

"Cautious," he snorted through his nose. "Right. Says the girl who stabbed herself trying to clean her pocketknife."

"I said 'cautious', not safe," she glared at him. "And as a reminder, I still have that knife, so watch it."

Inside, it was dark, but with the beautiful help of their trusty flashlights, the two made easy work of their surroundings. Well, Maeve did. She was sure Jordan knew where he was headed. That was both relieving and terrifying. She didn't know what to expect of him.

The main windows are barricaded with empty shelves and empty chairs. Most of the stores seemed bare, whatever shelves were left alone or half-dragged before the person decided they had enough barricade up. She didn't see anything worth noting. She didn't know what to expect, but she kept looking around. Maybe there'd be something of interest.

Posters on the walls had been fading for a while, but somehow, they were some of the most colorful things in the abandoned shop. Cartoonish characters with magical powers or weapons, or whatever. Some of the posters were of old bands. Others, abstract art with subtle faces or patterns. She had a similar style back in her room, but not as incredibly as the stuff she saw.

"Holy fuck nuggets!" She wandered to the wall of pictures and words, awestruck.

"Impressed?" Jordan slipped off his coat, draping over the dusty check-out counter near the front of the store.

Maeve chuckled through her nose and pointed her light beam at a square with bold red letters. She giggled. " 'Everyone was thinking it, I just said it.' God, that's so stupid!"

"But you're laughing?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but there came this whirring. It was more of a hum than anything, but whirring, nonetheless. The lights overhead flickered on. Some bulbs refused to stay on.

"Holy fuck." Maeve clicked off her light, peering around the lightened shop again. It seemed more different in full light than in the dark. Despite the place having nothing to show for it, it still managed to have color. Clear on the other side of the store, behind the check-out counter, was a wall of floating shelves. They displayed a scarce number of box-headed toys and these weird rocket-shaped lamps. And don't get her started on the suddenly vibrant-lit disco ball.

"By that reaction, you love it?" Jordan leaned against the counter; his arms folded over his chest. He waited for her to come down from her high.

"It's amazing."

"I'm glad you think so," he over the counter for something. "I have something for you."

"Is it a knife?" Maeve focused on him now; she approached him with faux caution.

"No, it is not a knife, you masochistic gremlin," Jordan said, bemused. "Why is it when I want to give you a gift, you think I'm some sadistic serial killer?"

Oh. "You know I'm only joking; I don't mean anything by it."

She watched him click his tongue as he glared sportingly at her, and then watched it melt into something she rarely witnessed. He hung his head and let out this defeated breath. He held a small, yet long rectangular box in his hand; it was small enough to fit in her back pocket, half of it at least. He clutched it tightly and tucked his lips into a thin line.

"Mae, I..."

They locked eyes. His inhuman forest green eyes flicked with golden caramels and earthy browns, met hers. She truly loved his eyes; they were uniquely beautiful. Absolutely mesmerizing. She'd stare into them often, and forever, if he'd let her.

She wondered what was on his mind, tucking a stray strand of her bangs behind her ear. His staring made her self-conscious, but she liked when he admired her. Before he left, he'd always told her she was beautiful. Of course, she knew that, but sometimes the confidence drained. Her body seemed unnaturally hot; she'd compare it to walking through fire. She fumbled in her shoes.

"I've regretted leaving you," he began softly, so softly she almost couldn't hear him. "I...I wouldn't have if I had the choice."

"Are you telling me you were made to leave?" Her body suddenly felt cold.

He avoided her gaze, looking at the box in his hands instead. "Being a Firefly was out of my control since my mom is one and all."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah; she said when I was old enough, I'd join up. Guess I'm old enough now," A bitter smile overtook his mouth. "But...there's a catch."

"A catch?" Maeve parroted warily.

"I'm being stationed in another city," he admitted finally; regretfully. "Mom says she's leaving too. She doesn't want me anywhere she's not."

"So what - your mom is controlling where and when you go?" Maeve felt erratic. "What, is she the leader of the Fireflies, or something?"

She watched his jaw stiffen, no, his whole body stiffen. And then relax awkwardly. He rubbed the bone of his neck with a sheepish grin growing on his face. He looked anywhere and everywhere but her. Her blood felt cold.

"No," she shook her head in disbelief. "No fucking way. Your mom is MARLENE?"

"Surprise?"

"Surprise my fucking ass!" Maeve exploded, her face reddening. Her chest tightened; hurt by the fact he never told her who his mom was. "Why didn't you tell me you're Marlene's son?"

"You never asked."

A choked laugh left her. Not that she wasn't surprised he'd say that but, she couldn't say that she wasn't annoyed by it.

She planted her fists on her hips. "I can't believe you right now!"

"You're right. You can believe it later," Jordan remarked, holding the box out to her. "Here."

"What is it?" Maeve grunted, eyeing the box skeptically.

"Open it." He urged.

"I swear to God, if this is one of those Jack-in-the-box things, I'm kicking your ass." She threatened.

"Mae, stop flirting."

"Only you would think a threat is arousing," she scoffed, sitting crisscross and opening the box. She paused mid-action, her eyes going wide. "What is this?"

The surprise in question was a bracelet made of leather strings, loosely braided. There were an odd number of shiny obsidian beads on the strings. For the first time in quite some time, her mind had no thoughts, tongue no words. She couldn't begin to fathom how extraordinary the gift was. She took the accessory out and set the box aside.

"I was passing through this ritzy store, and I saw it," Jordan crouched to Maeve's level. "I know you like the color black and -"

"It's beautiful, Jordan," she smiled warmly at him. "Put it on for me?"

"It'd be my pleasure," he took the bracelet from her as she held out her left arm. He wrapped the strings around her wrist and clipped on his gift.

Once the bracelet was secured on her wrist, she admired her new keepsake lovingly. Perfect, she smiled. Though she was never one for things like jewelry, this gift, she'd always treasure.

"Thank you, Jordan."

"Si, si, Mi Vida." He responded.

"You've gotta get me a Spanish dictionary next time you're out."

"Not a chance~" He smirked and helped her to her feet. She shivered from a sudden draft, and he frowned when embraced her. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Let me warm you up, amor~" Jordan crushed her further into his chest, wrapping his arms around her securely.

"Ah! Hey-" Maeve protested but was silenced by Jordan's lips meeting hers. She resisted for a moment, but then she melted into him. It was comfortable until his hands traveled to squish her hips and slithered to her very ticklish sides.

"Jordan-" a squeak left her, his fingers grazing her sides jocosely. She pulled away from their kiss, but he kept her close. "What've I told you about the tickling?"

"You still cold?" He asked, resting his chin atop her crown.

"I said I was fine, didn't I?"

"Stubborn as a mule," he pulled away from her and fetched his jacket. "You never did like the cold."

"You know me so well," Maeve grunted, forced by him to put the jacket on, which on her, it was quite oversized, and fell just past the middle of her thighs. The sleeves were long too, and she had trouble rolling them up because they kept sliding back down her arms. She gave up and let the cold fabric warm with her body heat.

"I know you so well," he repeated cheekily.

"Thanks," she said after a few seconds and zipped the jacket up. She complained, but she did feel better now.

"I was thinking..." Jordan began but trailed off, watching her fiddle with the sleeves.

"About...?"

"That we could do it." He replied, not giving her much of an answer, much to her imagination and dismay.

"Do what?"

"Leave," he finally spoke, breathing out of his nose. "Leave this quarantine zone. Leave the soldiers; the Fireflies."

All night, or the hours she'd spent with him, not once had he opened up about what he was feeling. He'd always been an open book, but he dodged and batted away all her questions. She stood frozen, pausing the reroll of the sleeves, which slowly come undone and fall past her hands again. She stared at him as if he'd told her the most heart-wrenching secret.

"When I was with my mom, there was this picture in one of the buildings we hid out in - a farm. Well, a family on a farm. In the middle of nowhere. Pastures, meadows, and mountains in the distance. I never saw anything like it before. If I was born in the old world, I might've had myself a big 'ol farmhouse."

She giggled at his attempt at a Southern accent at the end. "Oh yeah? I don't see you milking cows."

"I'm a fast learner. And besides, I think I'm more of a sheep guy."

"You'd milk sheep, then?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"Have chickens and pigs?" She added with a smile.

"Oh yeah," he grinned real big. "I tell ya, I haven't had real bacon in a LONG time."

She giggled, but then her joy leaped onto a serious platform. "Infected would be a serious pest problem, though."

"We can get out of here," Jordan latched onto her shoulders, sliding his hands down her arms to take her hands in his. "Just me and you. We can be free."

Maeve stared at him, shocked. "But I - what about Ellie? I can't just leave her."

"She can come too. And Riley, if she wants," He smiled and pressed a kiss onto her glabella. "We can be one, big, mismatched, happy family."

She began to picture it already: her, Jordan, Riley, and Ellie, feeding sheep and chickens, and then a couple of pigs. They'd have a large farmhouse, one that'd be left intact and easily could be tended to. There'd be a barn, the paint long since faded of its crimson color. Maybe they'd have horses and grow a few crops like corn and potatoes.

A warmth developed in her chest. Yeah. That sounded... "Lovely." She hummed aloud.

"I heard about this place, somewhere out west," Jordan began excitedly. "I heard it's a growing community with its own setup and everything! Word goes, they're pretty secure, safe from infected and looters."

"As great as it sounds, Jordan," Maeve furrowed her brows. "What about your mom?"

"She'd be alright," he said with a sigh. "Or at least I think so. This is all so...ugh! I wish she'd understand and make it easier on me."

"Make what easier?" Maeve blinked.

Defeated, Jordan sighed and ran his hands over his buzz. "It's hard to explain...but long story short, she put me in the school so I could spy on the military blueprints, or routes, or whatever, you know, doing revolution shit" - he looked away, ashamed - "I guess when I didn't give her what she wanted, she decided to make me a Firefly."

"Hold up - WHAT?" Maeve reeled.

"It's not only that, amor, she knew your mom from before the outbreak and she made a promise to protect you and your sister. I guess she can't 'protect' you if I'm with you."

"Rewind!" The room seemed to spin around Maeve. "She made you a spy?"

"Eh...so-so." He shrugged.

"I...I don't understand anything! You're a spy? What the fuck?! Wait-and now she's sending you away because of me? What the fucking shit?!" Dolorous, without a doubt that's what she felt. If anything, she needed to sit down before her brain vessels burst from the over-exertion of information Jordan gave her.

"It's okay, amor, she doesn't know about us."

"Sure as hell sounds like it, " she huffed, unconvinced.

"It doesn't matter. I'm sticking with you, Mae."

"Well, maybe it matters to me!" She argued.

"Hush now," Jordan grappled her with his arms, tugging her into his body and smoothing her braid. "Let me worry about my madre. You focus on being that sarcastic little devil I know you are."

"Are you making fun of me?" She let herself sink into his warmth.

He chortled but said nothing. He relaxed against her, holding her closer as if she'd disappear if he didn't.

"Never." His chin rested on her head.

"Where have I heard that before?"