TIMELINE [3 Years After the events in The Last Coffee Shop]

LOCATION <Springs Village, Ithir, the elbow-crack of the Semi-Galactic Empire>

The Springs Village Tourism Advisory and Planning Council made a public statement about holidays some years back. It had been carefully crafted to be as non-confrontational and accepting(1) as possible, in the hopes that no single group would be offended by being left out (or worse, seeing a different group be favored). However, as was the case with most such things, the end result was that very many different people were, in fact, very offended.

However, it is a time-honored tradition for people to be offended over the holidays, and it was a testimony to the sheer vanilla mundane mindset of Springs Village that people could still be offended about anything. One of the prime offenders in the village, and the cause of endless gossip, pearl-clutching, smoking room rumors, and fainting aunties was currently gearing up "The Last Coffee Shop" for Hallowed Wintremes. 

Luc, presently known to the public as Conall Lykaon Sothis, or Secretary Sothis, had no idea what a Hallowed Wintremes (2) was, but he knew a lot about offending people. But that wasn't the skill for which he'd been recruited at this time. Krill, the six-armed, violently violet Andalarian baker and head pastry chef at both The Shop and her soon-to-be-opened new venture, Pop Princess Cakery, had dragged Luc into this mess simply because no one would have dreamed of involving Mads.

Mads, whose real name was Madeleine (though hardly anyone but her grandmother ever used it), was the last sort of person you'd ask about holidays, decorations, celebrations, and of course, offending people. She was dreadful at all of them but the last one, and even that one was never done on purpose. As the owner, proprietor, and town fixture that presided over The Shop and its magnificent outbuildings, Mads was expected to be somewhat respectable, by the exacting, carefully old-fashioned, and pseudo-Ithir-that-was customs of Springs Village. So Krill hadn't even thought about asking her. Instead, it was Luc who was running and fetching and generally wishing he'd never asked what a "Hallowed Wintremes" was when Krill had suggested celebrating it yesterday night(3).

"A little bit to the left. No, I'm sorry! The right! I meant right." Krill was down on the ground, shouting and directing while Luc was sweating and laboring up in the rafters. No one had told him he had to hang onto the beam by his legs, upside down like a circus performer as he tried to string the lights to Krill's exacting (if directionally challenged) specifications. But doing it the normal way wouldn't have been much of a challenge, would it?

Luc looped the light string around the rightmost beam and shot Krill a hopeful look. She was frowning up at him and the lights, two hands on her hips while another stroked her chin. She had flour on her nose, which might have been charming if Luc hadn't been quite so annoyed.

"I think..." Krill's frown was enough to know she wasn't satisfied. But then, she hadn't been satisfied after five hours of this, so Luc was fully prepared to be here until the next morning. Thankfully they'd only had a half-day of work, as Mads was off doing boss things like meeting with investors, the Council, other business owners, etc., to talk about marketing strategies for the imminent winter tourism season. The first snowfall was scheduled for two weeks from now, and everything had to be perfect.

Hopefully, thought Luc, as he started to feel a warning cramp in his right thigh, the councils have an easier time figuring out what perfection is than Krill. I'm too old to be doing this, was his next thought. But that just sounded like a challenge, so he didn't move.

"I think if we do two more beams, so it looks like a star, and then put some of those snow bubbles up there, it will be perfect." Krill was smiling, a look of relief on her face that Luc felt in his soul.

"Great," he said. A moment later he'd swung back around onto the beam, clipping his harness back on so he could jump to the other beam. He could have done it without a harness, but Krill had threatened to cut him off from baked goods for a week if he tried that. He also could have stolen the baked goods anyhow, but that would have threatened the growing trust between them, which Krill swore was necessary for any real friendship. Again, Luc deferred to her judgment. Friendship, like holidays, had been sorely lacking for most of his life.

Now that Krill had a vision, it was much easier. Luc looped the last of the lights around the beams, then dropped down to the floor to collect the snow bubbles. While they looked like glass, they were clear plastickloc™ (4) globes, filled with fake snow, fake trees, and (real) glitter. Luc had made them this morning per Krill's instructions, and he was proud of how they'd turned out. They looked perfect hanging from the central circular ceiling beam, sparkling like diamonds thanks to the white lights and the glitter.

When the last globe was hung, Luc helped Krill pick up the many boxes and packages and dispose of them, though all he wanted to do was lie down. Krill's cheeks were flushed fuchsia, and her eyes swirled with indigo happiness. "It looks like magic," she said. "Mads is going to be shocked. But in a good way!"

Luc put his hands on his hips, surveying the main room of the shop. A large, octangular shape, there were several side rooms, and the back portion was off limits to customers, but two-thirds of the octagon was on display. And what a display it was. The Shop had transformed into a winter wonderland that outdid any shops downtown. Snow-iced trees, twinkling lights, imitation snowdrifts, glittering stars, and snowflakes, all sparkled and shimmered to make a fantasy landscape of cool blues and purples, which set off the dark wood interior of the shop to perfection.

"It does look good," he said.

"Better than good. It looks perfect."

Luc glanced over at Krill. "How much do you want to bet that Mads won't even react?"

Krill made a face. "Lu-u-uc, why do you have to be like that? Mads will notice."

"I didn't say she won't notice. I said she won't react. Or if she does react, it'll be, 'nice work guys,' and then she'll be off to worry about something some council member said and overthink it for the rest of the night."

Krill wrinkled her nose. But her face said she knew he was right. "Still, give her the benefit of the doubt."

"I am. That's why it's a bet."

Krill rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. "Okay, then what are the stakes?"

Luc chewed on his lip, trying to think of something suitably humiliating that he would (unbeknownst to Krill) not mind doing. "If Mads comes in and barely acknowledges our hard work, you have to let me do your styling for a week—no matter what I pick."

Krill blinked, her expression thoughtful. Her eyes flicked over Luc's current ensemble: a white tailed coat, skintight black pants with a few daringly placed rips, and a sparkly silver shirt that tied at the neck, but had a split almost to his navel. "Uhhh. Well...I mean, you have great taste, for a celebrity, or a music video...but everyday folks..."

Luc grinned, but it was the look of a predator. "And? Doubting yourself, or doubting Mads? If she's her usual self, I win. If she's her better self, as you have so much faith in, then you win."

Krill scowled. "You're horrible. Okay. Fine. But if I win, I get to do your styling for a week."

Luc shrugged, careless. "Fine. Be prepared to astonish the city with your new level of fabulousness."

Krill stuck out one of her hands. "We didn't shake on it. And she isn't home yet. Which means I have a chance."

"Or you just don't want me to think you don't believe in her, do you?" Luc gripped her hand, winking at her as he shook it.

"Ugh! You're the worst."

"It's why you love me."

"I don't love you. You're awful." But Krill's lips were twisting against her attempts to scowl at him.

Luc bowed, and the door opened behind them. It gave its merry charm. And then.

"What in the hellscapes?" Mads stood in the doorway, her cheeks reddened by the tasteful amount of chill the weather regulators had put in the air. She was followed by X7, her assassin-turned-nursemaid robotic, who tugged the floating pram that held a sleeping Lottie. Lottie was Mads' adopted part-alien daughter and (according to Luc) the only person whose opinion Mads really cared about. However, since she was little more than a year old, Lottie's opinions were not vocal yet, so this hadn't been verified or tested.

Krill exchanged a look with Luc, and neither of them said anything.

Mads frowned at them both, her eyes flicking from Luc to Krill, and then back to the shop. "What are you two up to? Is something going to pop out at me when I take another step?"

"No," said Luc. "But that's a great idea. We'll have to do that next time."

Mads took a single step, but she didn't look like she believed him. Her hands were slightly raised as if to ward off an attack. But when nothing popped out, she stopped, turning in a full circle to survey the floorspace. "I...Krill, how did you guys manage to get this much done? I mean, I was gone for half the day, but this looks like it took a week. It's...it's honestly amazing." She was blinking like the lights blinded her, which probably meant she was "feeling things" (a Luc-ism). "The other shop owners aren't going to believe this." And then she smiled. It was a tiny, fast little smirk, but both Luc and Krill saw it.

Krill grinned, grabbing Luc's elbow with two of her hands. "I win! You see! I knew she'd come through for me! And now you're a loser. Who's all confidence now? Serves you right if I decide to make you wear my empty flour sacks for a week!"

Mads smirk disappeared, and she scowled at Krill. "What? Wait? What..." She turned her frown to Luc, and her flushed cheeks deepened another shade, making her freckles pop out in stark relief. "Flour...sacks?"

Luc stared down his nose at Krill, making sure his face didn't show his apprehension. "And I would look so incredibly sexy in those flour sacks, you'd have to ban me from the shop."

"Indecent is more like it." Mads' muttering died away, and she shook her head, probably to clear the cobwebs and uninvited images of Luc wearing flour sacks out of it. "But what's all this about?"

Luc sighed. "I lost a bet. I said you wouldn't react to the decorating, but Krill had faith in you."

Mads tossed her head, causing her hood to fall off of her trademark cropped dreadlocks. "Of course I'd notice. I'm not an idiot."

Luc rolled his eyes. "I said 'react,' not 'notice,' and I know you heard me. Selective listener..."

Mads ignored him, going to Krill and clasping two of her hands that were not still gripping Luc's sleeve. "I think you should make him wear Grandmère's old things, personally."

Luc wrinkled his nose. "I would make those look like designer pieces instead of designer knock-offs, and you know it."

"Of course you would," said Krill, patting his arm.

In her pram, Lottie gave a sleepy snort, which caused Krill to giggle, and even Mads to crack a smile. "See, even Lottie knows you're a house of cards," said Mads. Her grin was a little bit evil. "Have fun covering every inch of your skin in mauve synthetics."

Mads went to the pram to check the sleeping baby, and only Krill's (and X7's) presence prevented Luc from retaliating. While whatever was going on between them was definitely going on (despite Mads' best efforts to pretend it wasn't), Luc continued to refuse to make the first move. He just made lots of feints and fake-outs.

X7, as if it knew the line of Luc's thoughts, had its freakish blood-red eyelights fixed in Luc's direction. But then, it was usually watching him. Their hatred was mutual, despite Mads' constant reassurances that the former assassin unit was a technologically generated construct and incapable of feelings.(5)

"Anyhow," said Mads, "thank you both. You should go get some rest. The Council has a ridiculous amount of campaigns, as usual, and their yapping always gives me a headache. From tomorrow we start the specials. And then there's your party, Krill, on First Snow Day." Mads smiled at Krill, warm and genuine. "Are you ready?"

Krill shivered, but she returned Mads' grin. "As ready as I can be. Are you sure about this? Having it in The Shop on the First Snow Day? We could do so much more business if we were open to the public all day?"

Mads shrugged, but both Luc and Krill knew what she was giving up. It wasn't that she needed the money, it was that she was refusing to worry about it, refusing to do what she'd always done. Instead of putting the shop first, she was putting Krill and their friendship first. "We'll be fine just being open until lunch. Everyone usually clears out around then anyhow."

More impressive than sacrificing First Snow business was the fact that Mads had agreed (and suggested) having Krill's exclusive opening party at the shop, so they would have the space necessary to entertain Krill's honored guests. While Pop Princess Cakery was small and perfect for a boutique bake shop, it wasn't the space for Queen C, Wynter Snō, their entourage of security, and a few of Queen C's select, recommended guests. The intergalactic idol singer's team would be in to inspect the premises and do a security check within the week, and Krill knew that her small space was too small for them to feel secure. So Mads had offered the shop, and things had come together from there. Krill could still hardly believe it, but knowing it wasn't easy for Mads made Krill love her human best friend even more.

"You're right, of course," said Krill. She was tired, and stiff, and Mads was right. She usually was about anything logical. "We should all get some sleep, because it's only going to get crazier. The party, and then my grand opening, and then the winter tourists. Happy Hallowed Wintremes, am I right?"

"Isn't it Ha'How'Win?" Mads looked from Krill to Luc. "That's what the town decided, because Have a Happy Hallowed Wintremes was too long?"

"What it is, is stupid," said Luc. He rolled his eyes. "I think I'll say Have a Blessed, Happy, and Successful Hallowed Wintremes just to be difficult."

Mads snorted. "The only person that will be difficult for is you. But whatever you decide to curse yourself with, you still need sleep."

Luc rolled his eyes again, with more exaggeration. "Yes, mom."

Mads scowled at him. "Don't. Not that."

"Yes dear, of course dear." He pressed hands together as if in prayer, his expression innocent.

Mads' scowl deepened. "Get out of here before I ask X7 to remove you."

Luc grinned, then swept an elegant bow that made the tails on his coat flutter. "As you wish." Then he spun on a booted heel and swept toward the housing space of the shop.

Mads didn't say anything else until he was safely gone. "I don't know what I was thinking, letting him come back. Again. And I don't know how I'll survive being stuck with him when we go hunt down the Dollhouse."

It was Krill's turn to roll her eyes. "Don't you start either. We both know you're excited. And not just because you get to play Avenging Angel again, either. You're excited about being trapped in a floating metal boat with him for days with no work to distract you."

Mads' horrified expression made Krill want to laugh, but she also didn't want to push her luck. "I am not." Mads stamped her foot, a childish habit Krill sometimes found endearing. "Besides, it's not like we'll be alone. Estrella and X7 and our team will be there, too."

Krill raised a brow. "From everything Luc has told me, Estrella being there does not help your argument."

Mads frowned, a notch developing between her brows as she thought for a moment. "Wait. What did he tell you about Estrella?"

Krill resisted a smile. "Why? Ask him yourself. But he says you two met?"

"We did. She's...lovely, if, unfortunately employed." Mads winced. Estrella was a very beautiful and gracious madame in a place known as Helen's Point(6). Mads and Luc had visited it once, under very different circumstances, but Mads had never forgotten the elegant Estrella.

Krill shrugged. "Then you know better than I. Anyhow, that's beside the point. Didn't you say something about getting some sleep?"

Mads nodded, still frowning. "Yeah." She took the pram lead-rope from X7, who was waiting in eerie silence. "But Krill, for the love of all that is sacred, please, no flour sacks."

Krill giggled, she couldn't help it. She was still giggling as Mads passed her, nose in the air, trailing the pram and X7 in her wake. "Okay." She finally managed a response as Mads was almost out the door. "But I make no other promises."

True to her promise, Krill did not resort to flour sacks. And true to his threats, Luc still wore everything with his signature flare. One day featured completely mismatched grandma flannels, and another was a striped yellow suit that made him look dead, but he held his head high and stared customers in the eyes with a look that was too terrifying to invite comments. The fact that he'd changed his lens filter back to nightmare black probably didn't help. However, on the final day of his penalty week, Luc was surprised to find a very different outfit outside his door in the morning.

Glasses, for effect, a high-necked black sweater that was *almost* as tight as something he would have picked out himself, flared grey trousers with suspenders, and an equally old-fashioned but still classy forest-green velvet blazer. Luc studied the outfit for a whole minute in the mirror before adding heeled boots and grey fingerless gloves, and changing his eyes back to green, just for the day.

By the time he made it downstairs, Queen C's security team was already there, poking into every corner and trailed by an ominously silent X7. Krill was in the kitchen, based on the smell of cinnamon and some sharp, citrusy scent that Luc couldn't place. Mads was behind the counter, clattering cups and generally making enough noise to cover LUc's approach. To be fair, he was good at walking silently, even with the inevitable creaking from a wood floor. But Mads made it far too easy.

"Morning," he said, waiting until she turned off the grinder to say anything.

Mads jumped about a foot and whirled in the same movement, upsetting a waiting cup of beans, which Luc grabbed just in time.

"LUC!" Mads glowered at him, then snatched the beans back from his unresisting hands. "How many times have I told you not to do that?"

"Not enough, apparently," said a familiar voice, causing both Mads and Luc to look toward the door.

Belleméé Hightower, one-time security consultant, part-time private detective, and general pain in the derrière (according to Mads), was standing in the doorway, clad in Queen C's security team's black jumpsuit. "Am I surprised to see you both still here? No. Are you surprised to see me? I'll take the matching stares as a yes." He gave them a small bow, his eyes already darting toward the kitchen. "And is that Krill's baking I smell? Please say yes. She hasn't moved over to the Cakery yet, right?"

Mads' tone could have frozen a lake. "I didn't know you two were speaking?"

Belleméé shoved back his gold-brown mop of curls, his net-drama-boy-heartthrob features only given a touch more maturity by the mustache he'd grown in his absence. "We're not. But Queen C hired me back on officially. And we talk."

"Ah. The mustache is a bold choice," said Luc, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the bar. "I don't know about a good choice. But bold."

"So are the glasses. I thought your eye mods lasted longer than that. Or you're older than you look."

Luc buffed his black-lacquered nails on his jacket, his pose careless, but there was a slight edge to his voice. "They were Krill's choice, not mine. And I'm certainly older than I look. Because we could pass for the same age, but I have a good few years of craft and guile on you."

Mads glanced from Luc to Belleméé and back. The air in the shop felt colder by two degrees, and even the rest of Queen C's security team was glancing back toward them. "Now isn't the time." She put a hand on Luc's sleeve, and he looked down at her.

Luc's green gaze was hard, but, also, he looked good in glasses. Not that this was a surprise. He generally looked good in anything (except perhaps, a yellow suit), but the rather ordinary clothes toned down the shocking nature of his facial scarring, and he'd tied his hair back, which suited his librarian-chic ensemble. Not that Mads had ever seen a librarian who looked like him outside of music videos. But it was possible, right?

She shook her head, trying to clear the unhelpful clutter. Don't fight Belleméé, right, she thought. That was the important thing. Because if they fought, Belleméé would lose, and if they fought, Belleméé would probably have to die. So that shouldn't happen. At least, not before Krill opened her cake shop.

Luc was watching Mads watch him, but there was no teasing smile. He just looked grim. "I can't kill him?" His voice was soft, but Mads heard him well enough.

"No," she said. "Not right now, anyway." She looked back at Belleméé, who was still waiting by the door, his gaze fixed on them. "So are you here for Queen C, or in your 'other' capacity? Because if you've been asking Queen C about anything other than Krill, you know we're about to go on extended leave. Just after Wintremes. So I wouldn't start anything I'd regret, if I were you."

Belleméé raised a brow. "Was that a threat?"

Mads shrugged. "It doesn't have to be. Let's all have a lovely party, congratulate Krill, act like adults, and then go our separate ways, all in one piece. Like adults."

Luc snorted, but quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

Belleméé's expression was hard to read. Annoyed. Maybe amused despite himself? Constipated, decided Mads. That's what that expression looked like.

Finally, Belleméé decided on a thin smile. "Okay. Fine. I'll pretend I don't know anything more than all of your customers."

"Good," said Mads. "That's a smart choice. Now we can all be adults with all our body parts."

Luc laughed aloud this time, turning away to no avail.

"What?" asked Mads. "I thought I was doing okay."

Luc continued to laugh into his elbow, and Mads and Belleméé continued to watch his shoulders shaking until they subsided.

"Mads. You should quit this job and become a mob boss," said Luc when he was finally composed. "It's adorable. And that's perfect because I also believe you'd follow through on the threats. Have X7 rip them limb from limb or something. And no one would suspect it, because it's just a little too cute."

Mads blinked up at him, completely at a loss. Her brain was short-circuiting, but she wasn't even sure why. He hadn't said anything scandalous—yet—this morning. It was probably the glasses. She'd never been a glasses-girl, that she knew. In fact, she'd never been an 'anything' girl. But the glasses were going on the banned items list.

"And we're still doing this," said Belleméé. His interruption reminded them he was there, as was undoubtedly his intention. His expression was sour. "Really? You're not twelve, you do know that right?"

Luc's grin was a bit sinister. "Well, technically, I could say I was three, because the last time I died and undeaded myself was three years ago. So this time around..."

"Shut up." Mads swatted his arm. Belleméé had just barely agreed to a truce, and Luc was pushing his luck. Not that this was unusual.

Luc turned his grin on her, and this time a dimple appeared. "Aw, worried about me? I'll be fine. It's Belleméé who needs to watch out. Krill doesn't even know he's here yet. I'm the nice one."

Belleméé's expression had grown a lot less confident, his face pale, but neither Mads nor Luc was looking at him.

"I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about dealing with newspapers and Peacekeepers if you do something stupid." Mads heard her voice crack like a teen boy's, and she winced. Glasses are definitely banned. Actually, she should ban him from dressing like a normal person too. She'd always thought that would be better than the outrageous things he insisted on wearing. But she'd been very, very, catastrophically wrong.

"Hey guys—" Krill's voice made Mads jump, nearly upsetting the beans again, but Luc caught them this time too.

Krill's eyes settled on Belleméé in the door and she went very still. "What is he doing here?"

A pained look crossed Belleméé's face, but then he forced a polite smile. "I was just talking about you. I've signed on with Queen C for good. A normal contract."

Krill gave him a disdainful look. "Who are you spying on this time? Her husband?"

Belleméé had the grace to blush. "No, I'm just doing exactly what I said I was doing. Security. That's why I'm here. And I wanted to apologize, for not telling the whole truth before."

"Too little, too late," said Krill. She rounded the counter to stand between Belleméé and Luc. "What are you really doing here? He's leaving soon enough. For real. But you better not do anything to ruin my party, or I swear I will make you regret ever stepping foot on Ithir."

Belleméé winced. "Gosh, seriously. Why are you all threatening me? I literally came here to talk to you, Krill. I wanted to talk to you first. But these two are always here instead."

Mads blinked. She felt like she should be offended, but she was just amused by how petulant he sounded. "Huh, maybe because working out here is my job. And honestly, I don't even pretend to know what his job is anymore." She pointed a thumb at Luc.

Luc shrugged. "My job is doing what everyone tells me to. And looking good. Because someone has to do it."

Krill scowled back at him. "Excuse me?"

"Out here." Luc grinned. "You're usually in the kitchen."

Krill's nostrils flared, but she turned her ire back on Belleméé. "Anyhow, what he does is beside the point. And I am usually in the kitchen, where no customers are allowed."

Belleméé shifted from foot to foot, looking very uncomfortable, a far cry from before Krill had entered the room. "Ah. Fair enough. Well, anyhow, I'm here."

"Obviously," Luc said under his breath, but Mads heard him and swatted his arm. He grabbed her hand, linking their fingers and winking at her.

Mads flushed deep red. How in the hellscapes could he wink at people and not look stupid? It made her almost physically ill. The nerve.

Belleméé cleared his throat. "I don't know how you're still putting up with this."

Krill glanced over her shoulder, then back at Belleméé, her expression wry. "Yeah, first logical thing you've said, I bet. I don't know either."

Belleméé's grin was faint, sheepish. "I did apologize. I am sorry."

Krill sighed. "Look, you and 'him-whose-name-we-won't-speak' (7) were both lying about who you were. It's a little hard for me to trust you."

Belleméé's cheekbones turned a bit red. "Well, I don't expect you to. I just want to start over. On equal footing. You know who I am, and why I'm here. And I'm sorry, really sorry. But not to him." He waved a hand at Luc, who had turned his attention back to the conversation, despite still holding Mads' hand (and most of her attention).

Luc stuck his tongue out at Belleméé, and Krill turned back just in time to see it. She rolled her eyes. "You know, Belleméé is right about one thing. I don't know why I put up with you two anymore. I deserve to have at least one monument dedicated to my patience."

Luc shrugged. "Pitch it to the tourism council. But I never claimed maturity. That's for the rest of you. I told you I literally only have two functions. No one expects statues or flowers to be mature either."

Mads pulled her hand away. "Well, at least they're silent."

Luc looked down at her through his criminal eyelashes. "I can be silent."

Belleméé rubbed his temples. "Okay, this is useless. Anyhow, I'm here. And I want to start over."

Krill sighed. "Fine. I'll think about it. But I'll be watching you. And X7 will probably be watching you too."

Mads wrenched her attention away from Luc at the mention of her beloved unit. She looked from Krill to Belleméé, obviously trying to figure out what they'd been saying. "My X7?"

Krill sighed again, heavier and more exaggerated. "Yeah. X7. It'll be watching Belleméé."

Mads nodded. "Of course. And everyone else. But if you do anything shady..."

Belleméé pressed a hand to his heart and bowed his head. "I won't. I promise. And now, if you'll excuse me. I have work to do."

Krill shook her head, watching Belleméé leave, and trying not to admire the golden glint of his curls. They'd grown out a bit. But that wasn't important. She turned her attention to the two knuckleheads she called her friends. "X7 really is becoming like you," she said.

"Me?" said Mads, looking puzzled.

"Yeah. Stalks around glaring at everyone and watches Luc with obsessive intent every time he's in the room."

Mads opened her mouth, shut it, and then shook her head. Her cheeks were red again. "I—I don't...do either of those things. I smile at customers like a normal person. And X7 doesn't have emotions. It can't think the same way we can, no matter what you both say."

Krill raised a brow. "I never said anything about thinking. But it definitely doesn't like Luc. I never said you watched him for the same reasons."

Mads' flush was raging now, red enough to make her skin a shade darker and bring her freckles into relief. "That is...nonsense. And I have to, have to, go check on X7 and Lottie." She spun on her heel and retreated at what was almost a run.

Krill sighed. "How long are you going to make us all suffer?"

Luc pointed at himself. "I have no idea what you're talking about but I didn't do it."

Krill put two hands to her temples, and two more on her hips, and waved the other two out theatrically. "And this. This is the problem. I really don't want to side with Belleméé on this one." She frowned, blinking, as if confused. "And, this is unrelated, but you should wear normal clothes more often. It's a good look. Which means I have fantastic taste."

Luc grinned. "Noted." His smile turned demure, as he lowered his gaze to his feet. "But as for everything else, I swear I have no idea what you're talking about." He left Krill speechless, watching his back as he disappeared to (undoubtedly) work more mischief.

"Everything is perfect. And I never say that unless it's true." Queen C had materialized at Mads' elbow like a hologram. The crazy thing was that she was also as perfect up close as a hologram. From the top of her star-silver curls to the scuff-free white velvet tips of her boots, she was as beautiful and luminous as the gentle snowflakes falling at their feet.

Mads turned her startled jump into a pivot toward the pop star. "Thank you." She forced a smile, not because she didn't like Queen C, but because she couldn't feel at ease around the other woman. It was almost harder to get a read off of Queen C than it was to read Luc. Much harder than Luc had been lately, anyhow. Luc had said Queen C and Mads had a lot in common, but Mads couldn't see it. As far as Mads was concerned, they might have been different species.

Queen C's electric lavender eye mod was unsettling up close. It made her eyes look like crystals or glass gems. She turned her glass gaze on the snow falling around them. The synthetic moonlight made everything silvery-white, and the snow-covered fields and greenhouses were completely still. "It's magical."

Mads nodded, looking back out at the snow. She hadn't really been looking at it before. She just wanted to escape the press of people and noise and good cheer that always seemed to surround Mads like the expanse of space pressed on a spacesuit. She was always waiting for the bubble to burst, to suffocate as it all hit her.

"I used to hate Wintremes, you know."

Mads glanced at the other woman, intrigued in spite of herself. "How would I know?" She regretted the words the minute they were out. They sounded curt, harsh. But she'd been stating a fact. How on earth would she know things like that about a celebrity? Well, maybe Krill would have known, but she was also part of Queen C's official fanclub.

"You wouldn't." Thankfully, Queen C didn't seem offended. The air around her remained calm, peaceful. "It was because of my mother." She lifted her arms, displaying her soft white skin, causing her silvery sleeves to slither and rustle like grass. "Not everyone's scars are as obvious as the ones Secretary Sothis pretends not to care about."

Mads sighed. She had been trying (and failing) not to think about Luc. Trying not to think about how beautiful he'd looked dancing with all of Queen C's beautiful friends. They were all gorgeous, interesting, and accomplished. He fit with them, scars or not. It didn't matter where he'd come from—he was one of them. He shouldn't be serving coffee, or going to hunt criminals down in the Wastes. He should be out dazzling with the stars in another galaxy. And Mads didn't want to analyze why he wasn't.

Queen C bent down, lifting her skirts with one graceful hand, and cupping a handful of snow with the other. "You know, there are other planets with snow, but they never look the same. It can be so harsh. So merciless. Just like my mother." She glanced up over her shoulder, her expression playful. "Aren't you at all curious? Or are you truly as immune to celebrities and scandal as you seem?"

Celebrities maybe, not scandal, thought Mads, but she didn't say it. She wasn't sure what to say, so she said something true. "My mother wasn't the warmest person either."

Queen C dropped her handful of snow, watching it fall through her fingers. "I'm sorry." She sounded sincere. "My mother only let me eat unhealthy things on holidays. And I could only ever pick one. Wintremes was my favorite because the maids would make sweet, sticky rice dumplings like my ancestors used to eat. They were so soft and delicious. I wanted to eat them until I was sick. But I only made that mistake once." Queen C straightened, standing up to look out at the snow again, her expression distant.

Mads was interested, even if she didn't want to be. She didn't know why the other woman was telling her this, but it felt important. "What did she do?"

Queen C sighed, her slender body swaying like a reed with the breath. "She gave me a purgative. And I spent the rest of the holiday retching and vomiting in my room. I ruined my pretty dress." Her lips twisted; a bitter crimson slash in her pale face. "I could never eat them again. Even the smell made me nauseous. But I learned something valuable: beautiful things can become a curse." She smiled, but it was humorless. "And to never let her see that I enjoyed something."

Mads shivered, though she wasn't really cold. It was something about the dead, flat tone of Queen C's voice. "That's horrible."

"She was horrible." It was a simple statement, no malice. "You must think I'm horrible too."

"No." Mads shook her head. "Of course not." And it was true. She understood. She even agreed. Beautiful things were dangerous. So was enjoying, loving, wanting something. Mads closed her eyes, not wanting to think about her own mother, but how could she not? "I never celebrated any holidays," she said when the pressure grew too great.

"Really?"

Mads nodded, opening her eyes to look at Queen C's surprised face. "My house wasn't a happy place. My grandmother was too young when she had my mother — too young when my grandfather died. She didn't want to bother with a child, and so my mother was lonely. And she...she met a man. They fell in love. But he wasn't a good man." Mads paused, considering. She thought of her father, that stranger she'd met once and never known was her father. She still didn't believe it. It was a part of her past she'd have to confront eventually, or she couldn't rest. She knew that. But that wasn't the point. "Well, he wasn't a bad man either. He was...young, and stupid. And so was she. He left, I don't know why other than he was young and stupid. But she was more in love than him, I guess. That often seems to be the case." Mads shrugged. "Anyhow, he didn't know she was pregnant, when she left. She didn't even know."

Queen C stepped closer, one of her white hands reaching out for Mads' darker one. Mads let the other woman take her hand. The contrast was striking, both the skin color and the texture. Queen C's hands were as soft as velvet. She'd never tended plants for twelve hours, or fixed robotics, or scoured metal plating until her knuckles bled. And that was okay. Not everyone needed to live the same life. But just because her hands were soft didn't mean her life hadn't been hard too.

"I'm sorry," said Queen C. She had been looking at their hands as well, her heart-shaped lips pursed in thought. "But also, why no holidays?"

Mads shrugged. "I don't know. It just wasn't important. After I was born, maybe before, she went mad. It was something she caught in the Wastes. But it was also her. She didn't want to live abandoned, and I was just a reminder, a poor substitution for the one person who'd ever loved her. And I was always in the way. Her way, my grandmother's way. So I raised myself. Well, the robotics helped. But I didn't even go to school like the other kids, so it wasn't until I started running the shop that I heard about such things. Every day was a working day for me. And I guess I never broke the habit."

Queen C's laugh was bitter. "I understand. My mother never loved anyone but herself. I was her pet project, her great triumph. She made me." There was a current of anger in her voice now, and her grip tightened on Mads' hand. "She never left a single mark on me, not that you can see, but stars, how I hated her."

Mads remembered then, remembered the rumors she'd heard long ago. Mysterious death of heiress. Child star implicated in mother's murder? Raising a monster—the truth behind Queen C's rise to fame. It was like she could hear the headlines now, and she raised her eyes to meet Queen C's glass doll gaze.

The celebrity looked like a woman who could do anything. But the feeling Mads read off of her was just sorrow. No guilt.

And Queen C was a modhuman, after all. So carefully crafted under surgical knives that she was as perfect as a hologram, as a doll. And that had all been at her mother's command. Everyone—even Mads—knew that. It was a testimony to her surgeons' skills that Queen C could even make human expressions at all.

Mads looked into the other woman's alien eyes and decided she wouldn't ask. It wasn't polite. And she didn't really want to know. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry too."

Queen C blinked, dropping her glassy gaze to the ground. "I don't know why I told you that." Her smile was bitter. "I just...I know I can trust you."

Mads was startled, and a little flattered. "We barely know each other."

"That doesn't matter." Queen C finally released Mads' hand. "KyuHyun says I need to open up more. But he's one to talk." She smiled again, but this was more exasperated and fond. 

Mads could feel the warmth rising to the other woman's mood as she thought about her designer husband. Mads shifted, uncomfortable. "Aren't you nervous? If neither of you had good parents?"

"Kyu has a lovely mother. It's his father. And unlike my mother, he wasn't shy about leaving marks."

Mads winced. "Why do cruel people insist on having children?"

Queen C shrugged. "Who knows? My mother wanted a puppet for her success. Kyu's father wanted an heir to the family business. But his son wanted to design clothes."

"And my mother didn't want me at all." Mads' sigh was heavy. It was all so bleak. Why did cruel people want to have children? Why did children have to suffer for their parents' vanities and problems? It wasn't fair.

"Do you know anything about Lottie's mother?" Queen C looked unsure for the first time. "I'm sorry, should I not ask?"

Mads shook her head. "No, it's fine. She was a prostitute. By choice or force, I don't know. But she was dying when I found her. I was...it was a difficult time for me. I'd had to face a lot of things about my life and myself, and I'd realized there were so many ugly horrors hiding just under the surface of this perfect little bubble." Mads gestured at the snow, the Shop, the greenhouses. "I built a tower to keep myself safe. And then when I had to leave it, I guess it kind of broke me. And I didn't know what else to do, so I started digging. I'd met, I saw..." she shivered. "There were these girls. They'd been trafficked. It was awful. And I wanted to do something about it. So I asked around and started digging, and I found so many terrible things."

Mads stared into the snow, unseeing. She remembered the fires they'd set, how she'd used her reward money to tear their little empire down. But it couldn't erase the horrifying things she'd seen in the process. So many children, women, men too, and even some aliens. All of them victims, and all of them broken. Mads had wanted to find every last perpetrator and stomp on their faces until they stopped breathing. She let herself think it, let the poison flow out and chill in the cold.

After a moment, Mads felt her heart calm, and she inhaled. "I found Lottie there. I knew she would be sold, or cut up for research, or locked in a lab, and I couldn't leave her. No one wanted her. And I know what that's like. So I finagled an adoption that might not have been strictly legal. As a human-alien hybrid, she's incredibly rare. But the law on that sort of thing is also sketchy. Lots of loopholes, if you ask the right person. And now she's my daughter on paper and record." Mads shrugged. "I'm not a good mother. I'm hardly even sure how to be a human. But she will always, always know that I want her."

Queen C sighed. "That's important. I want a child, you know. The doctors said it's probably impossible, what with all my mods. But if there's even half a percent of a chance, I'll try. Isn't that strange?"

Mads could feel the sorrow now, emanating off Queen C in great waves. And behind it was a deep hunger. "I..I don't think it's strange. For you to want to love and be loved." Mads frowned, trying to put her misgivings into words. "But I think you need to love yourself first."

Queen C's expression was dark, and Mads sensed a flash of offense. But it was gone, quickly swamped by the sorrow. "You sound like Kyu." Queen C offered Mads a rueful smile. "You see far too much."

Mads raised one shoulder in a half-shrug, uncomfortable, as she always was, when her "gift" for reading emotions came up in any fashion.

"Maybe Sothis isn't just spinning one of his infamous tales when he says you're a psychic." Queen C's expression was calculating. "But then, there's usually truth somewhere behind the lies."

"Wait. He lies to you, too?"

Queen C looked amused. "Doesn't he lie to everyone? He was part of a celebrity PR team, for the emperor's sake! Isn't that part of the job description?"

Mads laughed, but she was still startled. "I don't know. PR is another thing I never concerned myself with."

"Speaking of that literal devil...when are you going to just make an honest man of him?" Queen C's expression was sly, like a cat who'd sighted one of Ithir's famous blue rabbits.

"I-I don't..." Mads looked away, so she wouldn't have to meet that knowing gaze. "What do you mean?"

"He's not the only liar here, is he?"

Mads wanted to shake the other woman, but she didn't need a PR team to know that was a bad idea. "Queen C..."

"Call me Ceri. We've shared enough dark secrets for that. And don't lie to yourself. It isn't helpful. Lying is for boring parties. And this isn't a boring party at all, is it?"

Mads frowned. "I don't have much to compare it to."

"Well, the boring people are out here, aren't they? So the rest of them must be having fun."

Mads startled. It was like the other woman had read her thoughts from earlier. "But you...you're not boring!"

Queen C, Ceri, snorted in a very un-celebrity-like manner. "That's not me. That's the act. I'm not like Sothis. He can only be boring when he's acting. Even Kyu is far more exciting than he seems. But if I were myself at parties, I'd exchange trauma stories or talk about investments. I'm mad for numbers. It's one of the reasons I'm so successful. None of my accountants can cheat me." Her smile was sly, like a cat again, but this time Mads laughed.

"The only thing I really love to talk about is coffee. Well, and the things I plant in my greenhouses. But mostly I just tell the bots."

Ceri's eyes were glittering. "I've never been in a greenhouse before..."

Mads glanced back at the door, fogged with the warmth of fun and festivity from the party still raging within. "Obviously, no one's missed us. Would you like to see a greenhouse?"

Ceri grinned, really grinned, and it was a little bit crooked. The imperfection made her dazzling. "I was hoping you'd ask."

Mads returned the grin. She couldn't help it. "I warn you, if you start listening to me talk about coffee and fruit varieties, I might not be able to stop."

Ceri shrugged. "Challenge accepted."

***

EPILOGUE: AFTER THE PARTY'S OVER

Lottie and Krill were both asleep in her room by the time Mads made it back down to the kitchen. She'd changed her plain black party dress for a giant sweater and some leggings, which were much warmer and more practical.

She felt Luc's presence the moment her hand was on the kitchen door, and she almost turned around. She was too tired to deal with him. But then, why was he still up? Curiosity (and a little guilt) got the better of her, and she pushed the door open. Only one line of lights was on, giving the kitchen a cozier glow than normal. The air smelled like chocolate and Mads could see the snow still falling outside the one window.

Luc was drying mugs, still dressed for a party, but his silky black sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and his eyeliner wasn't perfect anymore. He yawned just as Mads walked in, flashing his unusually sharp teeth before he covered his mouth.

"Why are you still down here?" Mads picked up one of the dry mugs and hung it back on its hook.

"Why are you back down here?" He dried another mug and handed it to her. She didn't answer, and they continued in companionable silence until the rest of the mugs were dry.

Mads' thoughts wandered, tripping over everything Ceri had told her, the half-hour they'd spent talking shop in the greenhouses, and the blur of everything after. Mads had been so overstimulated, that she'd hardly registered anything before the guests finally left. And then it had been the business of tending to Lottie and settling Krill and she hadn't had time to process.

Thank you. That was all Ceri had said to her as she'd left. But there had been a softness, a sincerity to her. Mads didn't know if they would ever see each other again. Realistically, two times in Mads' life were two more than likely. It was a big universe. But Luc was Snō's friend. And Krill was a baking goddess. And Mads was in the middle of them, caught like a fly in a web. So it could happen. And yet, Mads doubted it would be the same. It was something about the snow, the evening, the holiday season that didn't seem to touch either woman. The charm they both didn't understand. But she wasn't really sad about it either. Ceri was intense, and slightly terrifying. But the moment of connection had been beautiful, just like the snow. And likely just as evanescent.

"I'm not the psychic." Luc broke the silence first. He'd started washing the other dishes, ignoring the splashes of water on his delicate shirt. "But you're thinking so hard I can practically hear it."

Mads snorted, reaching for the pile of plates he'd rinsed. "I was thinking about your friends."

"My friends." He didn't elaborate, but she could feel the questions spiraling.

"Why didn't you go with them?" Mads kept her voice light, almost teasing. She didn't want him to know how invested she was in the answer.

"Ceri and Snō? They're a couple. I hardly think they'd have appreciated that."

"No." Mads swatted him with her dish towel. "Don't pretend you don't know what I mean."

"You've tried and failed to get rid of me so many times. Why?"

Mads frowned down at her fingers. Her cuticles were a bit torn up from the garden. She'd forgotten to use hand cream. Again. It was impossible to picture Ceri with torn cuticles. 

Mads refocused on Luc, on the swirling hurt gathering and mingling with his unspoken questions. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant..." she waved her hand, trying to put her feelings into words, which was something she'd never been able to do properly, "—you belong with people like that. It just always seems so right." Mads felt herself flushing, but she wasn't embarrassed—just frustrated. She was always frustrated when it came to him, and that just made her more frustrated.

"It's just a role."

"Then it's a role you were born to play." Mads reached for another plate, but Luc took her wrist in his hand—gently, he didn't grab it. His hand was wet, but not cold, at least.

"Maybe. But that's too easy. I'd get bored."

Mads watched the water drip off his fingers, her brain scrambling. "Aren't you bored here? Talking to old ladies and flirting with everything that walks through the door? And..." she paused, screw it, not like I have anything to lose, "...dealing with me?" The last bit had barely made it out, perhaps because she didn't want to admit it might be an issue.

"Old ladies are delightful. They know, and spread, the best gossip. And I live for their compliments. And flirting with everything is possibly even more fun. Ceri's friends are never scandalized by anything I say, not really. But in Springs Village, I can breathe and cause a stir. If you like attention, one option is clearly superior."

"I mean, I know you like attention. But that kind of attention?" Mads still didn't dare look at him. Not when they were standing so close, and especially not when they were having a serious conversation.

She felt him shrug. "Depends. Even I get tired of it. But mostly it's just good fun. And they're easily offended, so it's not like I have to try too hard. Didn't you see the local page of The Intergalactic Times?(8) They said we made our stance on publicly celebrating Wintremes clear, and they would be offended if we didn't make similar efforts for other holidays at the shop from now on."

Mads frowned. "What? Already? And that's ridiculous."

He shrugged again. "That's Springs Village. And yeah, it's boring, when I think about it. But the Shop. Krill. You. Lottie. Even that besotted idiot Belleméé. It surprises me how interesting it all is. I'd even be interested in your murder machine if it didn't hate my guts."

This got her to look at him. "X7—"

"Doesn't have emotions, I know. That is boring because you've said it a thousand times, and you're ignoring the obvious."

Mads shook her head. "You say I'm a psychic; I get vibes off of people. If X7 were 'having feelings,' wouldn't I know?"

Luc's expression was thoughtful. "Would you? You'd never even look, and even if you did, you wouldn't believe what you found. So no, I'm not convinced. Besides, maybe your gift only works on things with a pulse."

Mads considered this for a moment before discarding it. "It's impossible."

Luc shook his hair out of his eyes. "So you say. But if we called X7 in here right now, don't you think it would want to cut my hand off?"

Mads' gaze flicked back to his hand, still holding her arm. She opened her mouth to say no, then closed it. Because he wasn't wrong about that. X7 was always ready to initiate violence. "That's because it sees you as a threat."

"Do you feel threatened?" Luc's expression was serious. "Really?"

Focusing on his hand had reminded her of the proximity, and the deep silence of the kitchen, and heightened her awareness of the nicks and calluses on his hand. Finely shaped, long-fingered, his hands would have been beautiful if they hadn't been so scarred. But then, that went for the rest of him as well. But he was still beautiful. Even Mads admitted it. Just not out loud. Which led back to his question. Do I feel threatened?

Her heart was beating too fast—the same way it did when there was danger. Her awareness was heightened, and she wanted to run. It was all the same response. But did she think he would hurt her? No. Of course not. She had stopped believing that a long time ago. Maybe even before she'd betrayed him three years earlier. It was part of his particular paradoxical charm: he didn't enjoy hurting others, but the part where he was inflicting the hurt often gave him satisfaction, if he thought they deserved it.

"No," she said, when the silence was unbearable. "I don't." But I'm still terrified. Terrified about what comes after giving up.

Luc released her arm, returning to the dishes. Her arm was damp, cold now. Mads shivered and dried it off on her sweater. Luc continued to wash dishes in silence for another few minutes, lost in thought. "What did you two talk about?"

Mads was startled by the change of subject, and responded without thinking. "Our mothers. The fact that I didn't celebrate holidays. And then I talked her ear off about my experiments in the garden."

Luc's mouth twitched, the side that wasn't already twisted by scar tissue, revealing the trace of a dimple. "My mother would have rivaled Ciri's, had she actually accepted being my mother. She was more like a monster. So I get your mother-complex. And no matter what you say, you're giving Lottie more love than any of us got. So there's that."

Mads felt a pang of gratitude, and maybe it was the mood, or how tired she was, but she put down her towel and hugged him. They stood there for some time, his hand coming back to rest on hers. Neither of them said anything. Mads watched the snow around the slant of his shoulder, her mind blissfully empty for this moment. 

Maybe this was why people liked snow? It was so calm. And it made everything feel less pressing. Tomorrow she'd probably feel differently. But right now, it didn't matter. For now, nothing needed to matter.

The End

(For Now)

Bonus: A Last Coffee Shop Wintremes Mood Board you neither wanted nor asked for