Koda shrugs. “Too many people.”

Kirsten nods in understanding. Though incredibly generous and giving, Dakota Rivers is an intensely private person, just as she herself is. A private person with an innate need to escape into that privacy at any given time.

Her eyes widen as she realizes the honor she’s being given.

“Is that okay?” Dakota asks, unsure of the reason behind Kirsten’s prolonged silence.

“It’s more than okay,” Kirsten replies, grinning. Reaching out, she lays a hand on Dakota’s wrist, squeezing it in thanks. “Much more.”

Returning the smile, Koda slips on her sunglasses, throws the truck into gear, and starts off, not minding in the least that Kirsten hasn’t yet seen fit to remove her hand.

*

Less than a half hour later, Dakota pulls the truck into a dense grove of trees and kills the engine. Kirsten looks around through the windshield as Koda opens the door and slips out, Asi at her heels. The big dog spies something off to his left and goes pelting off, barking fit to raise the dead. A second later, a flock of pheasants rises up with a ratting whirr, and Asi reappears, proudly wagging his tail.

Laughing at her dog’s antics, Kirsten slips out of the truck and takes in a deep breath of spring scented air. She then walks around to the bed of the truck, where Dakota is busy unloading their equipment. “Need some help?”

“Yeah. Grab this for me, will ya?”

Kirsten’s shoulder is nearly pulled from its socket as she grabs hold of the handled basket Koda hands her. “Jesus! What’s in here? Bricks?”

“You’ll see,” Koda replies, smirking, and handing her several thick blankets. “I can get the rest.”

Kirsten looks around again as Koda continues to unload the gear, taking in the seeming quiet of the place. Her mind, of its own accord, slips back a pace to a time when she had been in a similar place after the failed business at the android factory. The droids had come from nowhere and surrounded her truck. She shivers with the memories.

“You ok?”

Kirsten frowns, knowing it’s a stupid question, but needing to ask anyway. “Is it…safe here?”

Koda smiles. “It should be. And if it isn’t, we have Asi, and I have this.” She hefts an oblong object that can only be a cased rifle. “We’ve got it covered.”

Kirsten nods, saddened by the need to carry a rifle on a simple fishing trip. “Things are never going to be the same, are they.”

Laying her gear down on the ground, Koda straightens, reaches out, and brushes the tips of her fingers against Kirsten’s spine, between the smaller woman’s shoulder blades. “I have faith in you,” she begins, voice very soft. “And in the rest of us, to get rid of the androids and help make this land a good place to live in again.”

“I wish I had your faith in me,” Kirsten replies, sighing deeply.

“You do.” Ignoring Kirsten’s questioning look, Koda retrieves the rest of their gear and heads off into the woods, Asi happily at her heels.

Fetching another sigh, Kirsten tromps in after her.

*

“This is beautiful,” Kirsten whispers, as if giving full voice to her thoughts will break the enchantment of the area around her. A faerie ring of fantastically colored flowering trees surrounds an almost perfectly circular pond whose calm surface reflects the slowly lightening sky like a mirror made of smoked glass.

Fine, feathery grass grows along the shore, heads bent like Narcissus looking at his reflection in the cool water below. Frogs sing for mates across the expanse, their calls echoing and mixing with the chirp of crickets and the somnolent buzzing of a hundred other, as yet hidden, insects.

There is an almost sacred sense of peace to this hidden glen, and the calm seeps into Kirsten, soothing over edges made jagged by worry and strain.

“Thank you,” she says, still whispering. “For bringing me here. I know this place must mean a lot to you.”

Koda favors her with a smile that is, curiously, half-shy, half-defensive. Then she relaxes. “I used to come here when I needed to think.” Her smile becomes more genuine. “Or be alone.”

“You mean, you never…?” Kirsten asks, surprised.

“No. Never.”

Kirsten feels her breath catch. “Wow.” She shakes her head, trying to clear it. “I…uh…I don’t…” She looks up, startled, as a blanket is snatched from her arms.

“C’mon,” Koda invites, grinning. “Let’s get this spread out and do some fishing.”

*

“Oh God that was good!” Kirsten groans as she flops back onto her elbows. She wiggles a little; her jeans seem to have shrunk in the waist since she put them on this morning. The top button strains heroically with the effort of holding the fabric together.

“I’m glad you enjoyed,” Koda replies, watching her companion’s body movements with interest—and a fairly accelerated heart-rate.

“Oh, I did more than enjoy, believe me.” She laughs. “It’s strange. I never liked venison before.”

“That’s because I never cooked it for you,” Koda teases, grinning. “Here, try this.” She hands over a wine glass filled with a Pinot Noir.

“Why Ms. Rivers,” Kirsten questions over the rim of the glass, affecting a cultured accent, and batting her eyes, “wine before noon? Whatever will the neighbors think?”

“Screw the neighbors,” Koda growls, taking a healthy sip of the vintage and thoroughly enjoying it. “Let ‘em get their own wine.”

They settle into companionable silence for a time, both content to watch the sun play over the tiny wavelets in the pond, creating a colorful light show that neither tires of viewing. Their poles are side by side, held up by simple sticks, the bobbers riding along the tiny waves like toy boats in a gigantic bathtub.

The fishing has been good, with Kirsten proving herself an apt angler, catching more than her fair share of bass, perch and crappie. It will make a welcome change from the gruel that has started to pass for food back at the base, and Kirsten licks her lips, already thinking of sautéed fresh bass over early spring greens, completely unaware of the searing blue gaze tracking the movements of her tongue and mouth.

Blinking, Dakota deliberately turns her head toward the water and finishes the last of her wine in an untasting gulp, glad for the moisture it gives a mouth gone dry as desert sand.

“Thank you.” Kirsten’s soft voice floats along on the flower-scented breeze. “I don’t think—no, I know I’ve never had such a nice morning. I…um….” Looking shyly down at her hands clasped across her belly, she continues, “I never was much for sitting down and smelling the roses. It was pretty much all work and no play, and it made me kind of a dull girl.”

“Not dull,” Koda responds matter-of-factly. “Just overworked.” She smiles a little. “And underplayed.”

Chuckling at the poor joke, Kirsten rolls her head and sees the sun peering fully over the ring of tall trees surrounding the pond. “Speaking of work….”

“I noticed.” Placing her wine glass on the blanket, Koda begins packing the remains of their brunch into the basket. “Fenton’s coming to the clinic in a couple hours to look at Dietrich’s handiwork.”

Realizing what that means, Kirsten hurriedly sits up, her face drawn and sad. “Oh, Dakota, I’m so sorry.”

Koda tries to shrug it off. “’salright. It was going to happen sooner or later. Sooner’s just as well, I suppose.”

Green eyes flash. “It’s not alright. It’s not alright and it’s not fair. Damnit, you shouldn’t have to go through this again!”

“If I don’t, who will? Who can speak for him other than me?” Her smile is sad. “Life isn’t fair. Death isn’t either.”

Though her eyes, faraway, don’t register movement, she feels a warm, slight body press against her from the back and two well-made arms wrap around her waist as a chin rests on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone, Dakota. Hell, you shouldn’t have to go through it at all.” A brief pause. Kirsten’s gentle breathing tickles against Koda’s ear and cheek. “What can I do to help?”

Dakota smiles and turns her head so that their faces are on a level. “Just be you,” she whispers. “That’s all I need.”

“I will,” Kirsten murmurs, sealing the vow with a kiss that quickly deepens. When she feels Koda’s tongue gently trace across her lips, she opens them, bidding welcome. With a groan, Koda pulls Kirsten’s arms away, then twists the smaller woman so that they are now face to face. Her own hands come up, sinking themselves into the thick, soft mass of Kirsten’s golden hair, stroking and tugging as their mouths move together sensually, urgently. Kirsten’s hands find their way onto Dakota’s broad shoulders, squeezing and releasing in time to her panting breaths. She is quickly becoming overwhelmed by everything—the emotions, the sensations, the taste of Koda’s lips and breath—and when she feels one hand leave her hair and trail, ever so gently, against the side of her breast, she moans and pulls away.

Slumped over, she breathes in deep, trying to catch her air and calm a heart lunging itself against her ribs with passionate force. A brief touch to her shoulder, and she looks up into Koda’s concerned eyes. “I’m…I’m….ok,” she pants. “Just gotta….woah.”

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Koda’s voice carries an edge to it, and that edge gets through to Kirsten on some level.

Taking in a deep breath, she straightens, and lets it out slowly. “Yes, I’m fine. It just…caught me by surprise.”

Koda cocks her head in question.

In response, Kirsten lifts a slightly trembling hand and lays it against Dakota’s silken cheek. “I have never, ever felt like this before. Never. Physically, emotionally, it’s like…it’s like dangling over the edge of a cliff and the bottom’s nowhere in sight.” She meets Koda’s gaze directly, willing her to understand. “It scared me for a moment.”