"Healing well?" Benji flicks his eyes up to Gale's lip.

The delinquent would shrug, but his body is too rigid. Benji's fingers are pressing down on Gale's chest. It's easier to think now than when the farmer measured his inseam, but the words are still locked inside him all the same.

"Gale?"

"Yes," Gale finds the words when Benji pulls away to write the numbers down.

"You're doing well?" Benji darts his eyes back. "Not just the lip. Food's fine? Nobody's bothering you?"

Gale nods, but of course Benji isn't looking at him. "Yeah, I've... I think things are nice... here I mean. Food is nice."

Benji smiles just a bit, "glad to hear it."

"When the next nine weeks are up... what – ummm" the question is thick like smog in Gale's throat. It's easier to breathe around the bonfire. "Well... thanks."

"Told you that you could ask me anything, Hatcher," a full grins spreads on Benji's face. He has dimples, deep and not unlike his freckles.

Gale's starting to get some too. They populate the bridge of his nose, like seeds growing, thriving in the sunlight. Back home, he'll have to get them removed. Gale wipes his cheeks, expecting to feel ridges where the freckles don't sprout.

"Would you do this again?" Gale coughs. "Bring out more, if the pilot program is a success?"

Benji bites his lip then shrugs, "too early to tell. If I could guarantee it only get ones like you, sure."

Gale blushes. He slips away when Benji dismisses him.

~~~

"You like it?"

Harvey's hands glide along the wood. The palm of his hand is bruised, his wrist aches, and he had forgotten that the new cane was temporary. This one, just as ugly, is the right length. Harvey tightens his grip, letting his fingers form a fist.

"Well, I've already got most of what I need, so let me just get your hips and chest," Benji flicks his wrist, the measuring tape swinging in a circle.

Harvey obliges, lifting both of his arms to allow Benji in close. Harvey is used to twitching his nose, the sweaty, dirty bodies of the delinquents are only slightly more tolerable than the river out in The Sticks. Benji smells like the forest. There smoke an earth, but also something distinctly sweet. He doesn't spend enough time in the kitchen around the sweets, Harvey would know.

"I also got you some different caps for the bottom," Benji pulls back, pinching the measurement on the tape so he doesn't forget. "The spiked one should help you outside the house. Give 'em a try and let me know what you think."

Harvey nods, "thank you, Mullins."

His grin makes Benji's two red cheeks paler. Harvey leaves the room smiling wider.

~~~

Cosmia holds her breath, watching as the farmer's rough hands trail down the side of her leg, pressing the tape flush with her trousers.

"Aren't y'all bored of that puzzle by now?"

They've gotten into the habit of adding pieces where never they can, ducking into the room for three minutes on their breaks to separately add pieces. Norbu said he hasn't touched it. As far as she suspects, it's just Ace who is competing with her. Orbiting but never touching. It's like it was before they came.

"Nothing else to do here," Cosmia doesn't put enough hatred into her snarl.

"I can grab some things both from the trading post," Benji says. "Art supplies, old books, maybe even a CD. What do you want?"

He pulls back, Cosmia's body loosens for a second.

"Could try to do fires more often," Benji turns only slightly to write down the numbers. His wrist is at an awkward angle. "You like to watch the stars. Jeremiah might have a book with constellations. Fisheries still use 'em to get around. Ineffective, but there ain't as many roads up there."

Benji returns to her. His hands and touch, but his gaze too. His fingers are soft, broad shoulders reaching around her to pull the measuring tape snug against her waist. She can feel his breath, hot against her chest as he tilts his head down to read the number. He's not looking at the exposed stars on her skin. She loves the tattoos. His face is full of freckles, matching her.

"Paper cranes," she whispers.

Benji smirks, "didn't know city folk had paper."

"It isn't cheap," she keeps her voice low. "Not many people have it unless they are artists or criminals."

"Good thing you're both," she swears his voice rumbles in his chest, a murmur so quiet you'd have to be this close to him to hear it.

Her heart hanners back. He must feel the rhythm beneath the measuring tape as he brings it up to her chest. He only holds it for a second, quickly letting go as he chest rises and falls. Benji doesn't say anything as he writes down her measurements.

~~~

Benji has a good grip. Handshakes matter. Faris Has perfected several: the perfect worker, a distracted heir to a fortune in Hells haven, and a nervous man in love among the many images he's made. In Neo Elysium, Benji would have made a good businessman.

"They're all happy you only put everybody on two hours of weeding a week," Faris smiles, "but you did say you'd remove it."

"I said I'd remove it if things went well," the sound of his voice is low, pinched, constrained. Faris doesn't have to look at Benji's face to know he's fighting back a smile.

"Things went well, didn't they?"

When Benji turns his back to Faris, Faris know he lets himself smile. Without needing a mirror or additional cameras. And he's right, of course. Benji composes himself when he returns.

Faris doesn't care much for having suits made. Although, it'll be nice to have something fitted. The clothes he wore in the panopticon were standard issue. The pillow in their shack is unevenly stuffed and the sheets are thin yet sweaty. In the better part of the year, the only item which has fit Faris perfectly is his workboots.

It's too quiet in the room. Faris leans over and fiddles with the radio. He's watched Norbu screw with it enough to know what he's doing. A news story comes on instead of music. There's been an explosion in a mine. It's euphoric, the sound of someone's crackled voice. It takes a second for Faris to even recognize the static as English.

Some nights, Eurydice threatens to kill the katydids. Faris can't sleep without their chirping. He'll have to move next to a railway when he returns home.

Benji's shoulders are raised tightly. Faris wishes he didn't notice.

"You going to need help carrying the new clothes from the trading post?" it's a guess, probably, about what Benji is doing, but a good one.

"Nice try, Hakim," Benji bites his cheek. "I'd invite you in just to hear you try to talk like me. I'm guessing you'll say y'all too much."

Faris lets the surprise wash over his skin. It's refreshing in the heat, "guess I ain't used to how you run things, Mullins."

Benji snorts.

~~~

Of course, Titus knows his measurements. He's a hacker and there are fewer numbers he knows as well. Still, he lets Benji take them and watches him write them down. Certainly, it's a nice break from farmwork. Although, Benji is still quiet. They haven't spoken since the incident around the fire, and Titus would be content if he knew at all how to drive the stupid truck.

Benji dismisses him too quickly. The only words he says are the name of the next person Titus is to send in. Titus hangs his head as he heads out of the room. Of course, Harvey is in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the wood.

"He doesn't like you," Harvey grins.

Titus shrugs. He leans against the wall behind him. The wallpaper smells, but so does fucking everything else here. Titus didn't think he would miss the smell of his soap as much as he does. A fresh wash in his hair. The artificial smell of cucumber and lemons is nothing like the real thing. It's better. Most things that aren't real are.

"Should I care about that?" Titus says.

Harvey doesn't relent, "is that what all you pretty rich boys care about? Sucking up to people with power?"

Titus shrugs. He doesn't let himself smile, it would be too boastful, "so you think I'm pretty?"

"Isn't that why you have those eyes?" Harvey gestures with his free hand up to them, silver and sparkling. "Bet your mother brags to all her friends that you're almost entirely natural."

Now, Titus really doesn't have to hold back a smile. His eyes still sparkle. Harvey is so used to using them to read people, and so he tries to concentrate on the other parts of Titus. The build of muscle beginning on his arms, filling out his otherwise narrow frame. His brown hair, still perfectly styled despite the sweat and hats and heat.

Titus lifts up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat that beads on his forehead. Exposing the silver tattoos that snake around his torso. Even in a hallway without sunlight, they sparkle.

"Don't really think I'm in the habit of making my mother proud, Harvey," Titus runs his tongue along Harvey's name, savouring it. "She wouldn't like you either, if you were worried about making a good impression on her."

"Well, she'll like me less if she realizes I'm the reason you have that nose," Harvey leans forward. His fingers graze the bridge of Titus' nose, which Norbu said he'd finally reset that evening. The bruise pinches and aches from Harvey's feather-light touch. Titus feels a shiver role down his spine.

"It was lovely to chat, Harvey," Titus pulls back and starts to head out. "I'll see you next time you foil my escape plan."

Harvey doesn't move back to the kitchen until he watches Titus disappear out the front door. The oven beeps. He's probably burnt something. Harvey only had time to listen in on one meeting with Benji, and though they pair said nothing, he thinks he picked the right one.

~~~

"What's it for?" Norbu asks.

It's the first question of a dozen Benji has yet to answer immediately. They finished the measurements three minutes ago, and Benji wouldn't suspect any of the delinquents but Norbu was hanging around to slack off. Norbu has dozens of questions though, about what ingredients Benji can procur, if they can actually go swim in the pond instead of get into fights on its shores, and if it actually ever rains in North Marcanty.

"What's what for?"

Benji sits with the notebook on his lap, double-checking he has the specifications so far written down in the correct column. The women at the trading post are turning the clothes around in four days, all ten outfits, and it's going to cost so much that he can't afford to have any measurement in the wrong column. He read over everyone's measurements except for Cosmia's.

"The measurements," Norbu asks. "Are we getting better fitting farm clothes? I'd put in a request for coveralls, since they look nice. Kae loves hers, but I'm worried they aren't all that flexible for movement. Are they, Benji?"

"Don't like coveralls," Benji says. "Find the extra layers too hot."

"Just work in coveralls without a shirt," Norbu laughs. "We'd all love that."

"Bet you would, Wangchen."

Norbu leaps up onto the couch, sitting so his bare feet are on the cushions and he's balancing on his butt on the back of the seat.

"Say, Benji, is it clothes for swimming?" Norbu asks. "I've never been to Hell's Haven, but most of my friends have. You can swim there. Nothing as deep as the pond of course, since like, nobody can swim. I once jumped in the river as a dare, and my Dad hosed me down outside. I smelled for a week. You need clothes for it."

Norbu twists his head up, and then swings his head over. That smell. He resists the urge to groan.

"Have you been messing in the kitchen?"

"Course I have," Norbu laughs, elbowing him.

Benji gets up and steps into the hallway. The smell is strong in the heat.

"If I agree to let you swim, can you promise me something?"

"Anything."

Norbu is suddenly next to him, having practically flown across the room.

Benji pinches the bridge of his nose, "never make coffee again. The stuff is more expensive than you could ever imagine, and you of all people don't need to be wired up."

~~~

Unfortunately, Rhiannon Rose is resigned to letting Benji take her measurements. She's exhausted enough that she'll let him put the measuring ribbon around her waist. He can touch her, so long as she isn't stuck in the fields.

Is this why so many women marry men?

"You drinking enough?" Benji's hands rest on his hips when he's done.

He's not bad looking. Her mother wouldn't like him though. Beyond the freckles, which she has two, he's got nice bone structure. He's got even skin, a light tan. People in Underpass City would like him.

Rhiannon Rose was well-trained though she rebels against her programming. Benji's broadly like a factory worker, with calloused hands like a freighter. He's not wealthy enough to earn his annoyance. His pay goes into shelter and food and basic necessities. Scowling is a luxury item.

"Water, Rhiannon Rose," he repeats himself.

"You're not my mother," she rolls her eyes.

"And you should be so lucky."

Rhiannon Rose pouts her lip, "I actually stopped drinking water three days ago. I feel so ill. Maybe I should take the afternoon off."

Benji chews on the inside of his cheek. He shifts, arms crossing over his chest. Someone laughed outside, the sound loud enough that they must be in the garden.

"You could work twelve hour days and do less than Norbu does in an hour," Benji smiles.

Rhiannon Rose releases her lip. She looks past him, and the yellowing wallpaper. She's never been anywhere with so many useless things. Her family home is quite barren; why keep things that are ugly when you can just buy a replacement? Her apartment in Leth is stuffed with tools and loose wires.

This whole place is old, useless, and ugly. Benji may be handsome, but he carries the farmhouse in his messy hair and work boots. Down deep in the skin that can't be surgically altered, in his muscular tissue.

"You're not going to win me over," Rhiannon Rose decides.

Benji shrugs, "don't need to. But you're on shift with Norbu starting now. He will."

~~~

He doesn't get the chance to try to measure her. Eurydice snatches the measuring tape and it nearly splits when she rips it from Benji.

The measurements are wonky around her arms and torso.

"Now, your inseam is-"

"I know what a fucking inseam is!" Eurydice rolls her eyes. "I'm not one of your freak slave workers.

Benji cocks an eyebrow, "the refugees? Or you delinquents."

"Do you hire them because they're already broken in?" she snarls. As she does, she incorrectly measures her inseam. "I think you're too much of a bitch to train them yourself. Afraid of real women?"

"You're measuring too low," Benji rolls his eyes. "And I ain't afraid of women. Just you."

She snorts, the sound voluntary, and her body freezes solid. Did he actually make her laugh?

Benji grabs her wrist, forcing her hand higher, to the proper spot. She moves to shove him but he's already let go. Benji squats to take the last measurement.

"You shouldn't have shown weakness," Eurydice swallows.

"Talking to me or yourself?"

He's grinning. It's sickening. Eurydice has met some crazy violent people before coming here, but he has to be the most sadistic. And the stupidest. As a combination, it's quite boring.

"Do you realize how easy it would be for me to kill you?" Eurydice's asks, hard words, soft voice.

Benji doesn't even look up at her, "I know all about the frailty of life."

Eurydice bends down to his level. She rips the pen from his hand and points to inky end to the soft flesh of his neck, where his jaw ends in the throat begins. Benji's body tightens. His pulse radiates through the nib of the pen.

Her back still hurts. Harvey's claimed to her is bruising bright, deep and violet. The pen's ink is blue. Would the colour seep into Benji's blood?

He looks up at her. Eyes green, no sense of blue or even fear.

Eurydice throws the pen on the floor and struts out of the room.

~~~

"I like your bracelet," Benji points to the metal chain on Kae's wrist.

It jingles every so often. When she raises her arms, it is almost melodic. Certainly, there are worse things to listen to outside. She didn't spend a lot of time in Flage, but even Leth and The Arch aren't as quiet as this farm. Chickens cluck and Norbu whistles in the fields, the radio plays and the clock chimes and Benji's truck growls when he turns it on. Still, it is so empty.

Of course, the sun is so bright it almost feels loud. Overwhelming. Three weeks in and only just is she able to open her eyes in the morning without feeling the rush of a headache. Her eyes are crusted shut at night. She wonders if it's related.

"George Rooney gets more butterflies," Benji says. "Maybe I could take you sometime, if you'd like. Some of the fruit trees grow flowers."

Kae shakes her head just a bit.

"Well, what can I get you?" he asks from his spot on the sofa. He is pretending to write down numbers, just to keep her. She hasn't said more than two words, and neither of them even consecutively.

Kae shrugs.

Benji sighs, "Kaede, come on. Let me help you out. I want to keep your hands busy this weekend, so you quit nicking things."

She feels her face heat up, "I'll be good."

"Don't treat me like I'm a moron. We both know you're still stealing,"

The butterfly charm jingles against her wrist as Kae quickly shoves her hands in the pockets of her coveralls. There is nothing in them. Yet. She wasn't planning on it, but she knew that she'd take something else later today.

"I don't..." Kae bites her bottom lip. She leans up onto the tips of her toes and then rocks back down. "I don't like doing it. And... well I have been. I'm not going to deny it. Just a few coins and bolts, nothing I thought you'd actually miss. I promise."

"Well, I don't mind if you steal things, I guess," Benji says. "Especially if it's just little. But, I'd appreciate it if you didn't steal off my guests, alright? Or the others, but none of them have things."

"I stole from one of your workers," she whispers. "Just a carabiner though. Off her toolbelt."

Benji runs a hand through his hair, "well that's not fair. Taking advantage of them like that. Just because they can't talk doesn't mean they aren't worth the same dignity and respect as I am."

Kae lowers her gaze. She blinks. She's not going to cry. She's not.

It's always like that. Build and build and build and then shame. Kae doesn't drink or have casual sex or get into fights. She does everything else in her life perfectly, exactly as is requested of her. She stood there and let Benji take down measurements of her chest without voicing her discomfort. He probably would have let her measure it herself, almost certainly, but she didn't. She couldn't bare the look on his face. And no matter how good and honest and kind and small she becomes, she still is a thief. Someone who takes advantage of people who can't complain.

"What can I do for you?" he asks.

She shakes her head, staring at the fraying rug beneath her feet "can I go now?"

She doesn't see Benji's face soften.

"Of course, Kae," he whispers.

She scampers out of the room.

~~~

Calath gets Benji to help her a bit, just by making sure the ribbon is even. She writes down the measurements for him too, mostly because she hasn't held a pen in so long. They have markers at the auto shop, just to mark wires and pipes and metal for cutting. On the margins of the page, she writes her name.

Calathea Hitch. The full thing, which no one ever calls them. Always Calath or Hinges. Or Cal, they suppose, if one is Benji.

"Are people bothering you because you don't talk all that much?" Benji asks from his spot leaning in the doorway.

Calath puts down the notebook and blinks at him, "me?"

"And my farmhands," Benji adds. "You know, because they don't talk. None of the others are taking advantage of them?"

Calath frowns, "you trust me to be honest with you?"

"Well, course I do," he says. "I've read your file, Cal. You're not in the business of being mean. You're in the business of loving, maybe too much if you ask me."

Her nose crinkles. Then, she blinks. She's said it before, and of course she meant it then too, but it's not his fault he's a bit backwards when it comes to android rights. The man doesn't have a digital clock in the home, so of course he doesn't believe in android rights. Then again, half of the delinquents hadn't seen an analogue clock in years. Calath taught Gale how to read it one morning.

It's all politics, and at least that is something Calath understands, even if they only went to school until she was ten.

"You like me more than the others, don't you?" Calath asks.

Benji cracks a smile, "I don't have favourites. But you are a hard worker, and I can't say I don't respect that."

"Got to be," she says. "I work the docks by day. My endurance is probably only rivaled by Norbu."

"I don't think even I'm as strong as Norbu."

They both smile.

The numbers on the page of the notebook stare back at Calath. They've never seen writing as neat as Benji's, which shouldn't surprise them. He likely couldn't type very fast. They can imagine him now, wherever the nearest computer is, likely at least hours away, bent over the keyboard with his index fingers searching for the letter B.

"You're starting to win over people," they manage. "They are excited for new work clothes."

Benji snorts, but she doesn't mind. He's certainly quite human, so far removed from her and Dovey. Calath's had far worse employees of course. Benji will do.

~~~~~

Pure vibes, honestly, plot hiding somewhere but good luck finding it. But, we have a fun plot-heavy chapter next so I am excited to see what everyone does with it!