Bismarck walked like she was marching to war.
Exactly 1,216 steps from her dorm to the drydock, she counted them. It was easier than admitting how ridiculous she felt in this getup.
Why did I dress like this?
Rowan's shirt was far too large, and she'd known that when she borrowed it. The sleeves practically swallowed her hands. And yet…
This was absurd.
She had structured everything. Planned the timeline down to the second. And now...
Dummkopf!
Why had he messed with a perfect schedule?
Why had she let him?
Why was she nervous?
This was stupid. Idiotic. Bordering on imbecilic!
Dragging her all the way out here, on a schedule he altered, for what? Even if it was just an obligatory date, even if it meant nothing, he should have the decency to respect her time.
She was going to confront him. Right here. Right now.
She rounded the last pillar leading into the drydock, ready to pounce, and froze. Because standing there wasn't some bumbling freshman.
It was a prince of the sea.
A son of Poseidon, casually waiting for her at the edge of his domain.
Rowan wore tattered, sea-washed jeans and a fitted yellow shirt with a red lightning bolt inside a black circle across the chest, like an inversion of the one she wore. But where hers hung awkwardly, his hugged every muscle.
A black vest framed his shoulders, open and hanging perfectly. The collar bore two things: his name stitched in gold… and a polished battlecruiser pin.
He'd tamed his red fly-away locks with some sort of product and slicked it back.
And on his hip? A silver pocket watch chain.
Bismarck blinked.
What had she been irritated about again?
---
Rowan was waiting. But it was anything but patient.
He paced back and forth across the dock, nervous energy bouncing off the planks with every step.
"Oh man," he muttered. "I feel like I'm gonna be sick, Lightning…"
"You're fine." She told him, internally. "Stop worrying so much."
"What if it's too much? What if she thinks I'm overdoing it? The whole Flash/Reverse Flash shirts thing—kind of cheesy, right? And this vest..." He tugged at it awkwardly. "Even open, it feels pretentious. I'm overdoing it. I know I am."
Lightning manifested with a flicker of light and gently patted his shoulders, adjusting his collar with an exaggerated fuss.
"You are overdoing it," she said. "But she's going to love it. Trust me. We loooove when guys dote on us. Especially on a first date. Makes us feel special."
She hesitated.
"…Or so my databanks say," she added quickly.
Rowan barked a nervous laugh. "Yeah, right. She'll probably glare daggers at me all night."
He paused, then lowered his voice.
"Hey. You sure you're cool with this? If you say no, I'll cancel the whole thing."
"For the 9,000th time?" Lightning's voice was light, teasing. "Yes. I'm ecstatic." Then she stiffened.
"Heads up, boss. Bismarck on radar."
Rowan turned and promptly forgot how to breathe.
His heart did a weird little flip. Then another. He could feel Lightning manually stepping in to steady his heart rate.
Because there she was.
Bismarck.
She didn't look like a military goddess tonight. She didn't need to.
She looked like a sorority girl... casual, cool, and effortlessly striking.
Her silver hair wasn't styled in twin tails for once. It was tied loosely at the back, a shimmering waterfall down her spine. She wore his shirt, oversized, hanging off one shoulder to reveal a strap of white tank top beneath and just a hint of pale skin. The hem fell long enough to preserve modesty, but the black leggings left no question about how fit and toned she was underneath.
And her boots, just standard combat boots, suddenly looked like the height of effortless fashion.
It was a look Rowan would've bet money she'd never try.
And yet…
She had never looked more beautiful.
---
Bismarck shook herself.
She would not be distracted by a set of flashy clothes, or by how stupidly fantastic it was that he had dressed to match her.
Nein!
She was going to give him a piece of her mind. She strode toward him like she owned the pier. Like the ocean beneath it saluted her every step.
Her mouth opened.
She had the whole lecture ready: How dare you change my schedule. How dare you make me feel...
And then Rowan Takeda made a sound.
"Whoa…"
It wasn't smug or teasing.
It was stunned.
That sound knocked the wind right out of her sails.
Because he was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Not with fear or obligation. Just pure, raw awe.
And… she liked it.
She almost smiled.
Almost.
It took the full might of her training not to react. Not to let it show. Not to smirk like some lovestruck girl. Instead, she lifted her chin.
"Good evening, Herr Rowan," she said crisply. "Why did you change the plan?"
He blinked like someone coming out of a fog. Shook his head, dazed. Her chest fluttered, barely a twitch, but it was there.
What was that idiotic sensation?! And why couldn't she control it?!
"Uh... yeah. Sorry. I didn't mean to stare," he said quickly. "I just... had a couple surprises planned."
Her eyes narrowed.
She did not like surprises.
But before she could say anything—
"Holy cow, Bismarck," he said, eyes wide. "You look great."
He blushed furiously, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.
"Sorry, that was probably too forward, but... I had to say it."
Control. Do not react. Stay professional. Dismissive. Emotionality will not get you anywhere in life.
Bismarck turned her head, lips pressed tight.
"I find this whole thing distasteful," she said smoothly. "I am not one for casual evening outings. So I made do. Thank you for the use of your shirt."
Something in Rowan's expression changed.
The light dimmed behind his eyes, and his shoulders sagged.
"Oh," he said, voice quiet. "Yeah. That makes sense. Sorry. I just... I guess I thought…"
He trailed off, then gave her a smile that wasn't a smile. Not a real one.
"Let's just call the whole thing off."
Bismarck's heart skipped.
What? Why? What caused him to say that?!
"Otto, assess our conversation for misfires," She thought, rapidly. "What did I say wrong?!"
"Mein Kapitänin," the AI replied gently, "your phrasing made it sound like you were unhappy with the entire evening. Captain Takeda is offering you a chance to exit. Though I would advise against taking it."
"No!" she blurted. "That's not what I meant!"
Bismarck growled, internally. She hadn't meant to say that out loud!
Instead, she turned her back to Rowan and stood at parade rest, hands gently clasped in the small of her back.
"I merely meant that this style of dress is uncomfortable and unfamiliar to me."
She could hear the confusion in his voice.
"Wait, but you said..."
"I know what I said," she cut in. "And I am telling you that I was not expressing disinterest in sharing this evening with you. I was merely stating that my wardrobe, such as it is, is not date appropriate. I was making conversation."
A beat passed and she swallowed hard. Admitting faults was not something she was used to.
"I am not good at it yet. My apologies for the confusion."
"Sooo..." Rowan, asked dragging out the word, "You do still want to go?"
Bismarck had anticipated that question. That was exactly why she'd turned her back in the first place.
Her cheeks were burning! She knew they were pink as well!
That stupid little flip-flop was back in her chest again, as well! Curse him for inviting such weakness in her.
"Ja," she managed. "I am... intrigued by the idea of sharing dessert with you."
"Oh! Oh, I get it. Well, then would you mind turning around for a second? I got you something."
What? They were supposed to exchange gifts? She'd gotten him nothing. He was seizing an advantage! She would not accept!
She turned, a perfect parade-ground pivot.
"Herr Rowan, gifts are not nec—"
She stopped, the words ripped from her by what she saw in his hand.
He was holding out the tiniest, cutest little stuffed bear she had ever seen.
It was a polar bear, no taller than her palm, wearing a miniature Avalon hoodie and clutching a tiny felt anchor.
It was adorable... Her hand drifted toward it like a zombie. So! Cute!
But she hesitated.
"Is this... Really for me?"
She glanced at him, trying not to look too eager. He just smiled, sunny and true like always.
"Yeah. I saw it in the student store when I went in to grab some pens. Thought it'd look cool with the rest of your collection. You didn't have an Avalon one yet."
He rubbed the back of his neck. She noted that he did that a lot when he was nervous or uncomfortable.
"So I figured, first date and all... Well, yeah. Here."
He pushed it into her hands.
Bismarck took it, staring down at the plush. She poked it's little tummy, and it was so... So... Squishy! Her eyes widened it was a perfect little bear.
"...Hello, little one," she whispered.
Then froze, mortified at the escape of such softness.
She hadn't meant to say that out loud, either!
How did this boy keep making her mind and body disobey her rational will?
Bismarck looked up, eyes cold as ice. She expected a joke. Maybe a smug grin. Some half-hearted tease.
Instead, Rowan just said:
"So I did good, then? I was kind of guessing, and Lightning helped me pick the best one..."
She blinked.
"They have more?" she asked, too quickly and too eagerly.
She stamped the emotion down immediately.
Nein! Verdammt, nein! She hadn't meant to say that either!
She turned away again, cheeks flushed. But... she did want to hear the answer.
"Yeah," Rowan said, grinning. "They've got a bunch of different ones. But hey, at least now I know what to get you for Christmas, cute stuffies."
Her eyes snapped wide. He planned to give her a Christmas present? It was August!
He doesn't mean it, she told herself. He'll probably be gone by then...
"Anyway," he continued, casual as a breeze, "on to your second surprise."
What, now?
She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. What insanity had this boy dreamed up next?
Rowan stepped toward the edge of the dock and reached out to a small terminal set into the railing. His fingers danced across the drydock interface.
A shimmer of light appeared in the air beside him.
"You ready?" he asked, nodding to no one.
Wait... that was the docking control unit.
No... he wasn't. He couldn't possibly be about to...
Then he raised his voice.
Loud and steady, his hand over his heart.
"I, Rowan Takeda,
Captain of the ICS Lightning,
Swear upon steel and sea,
Upon honor unbent and burden unbroken,
To guide her with hand and heart,
To shield those who cannot shield themselves,
And to strike like judgment
When the time of reckoning comes.
Where she sails, I follow.
Where I fall, she rises.
Until our keel breaks or heaven calls us home—
We are one!"
"COME FORTH—LIGHTNING!"
---
Bismarck gawked.
He was reciting his Captain's oath out loud! In front of her!
No one was supposed to hear that. No one. It was private. Sacred. A vow between a Captain and their Frame.
But he was just saying it, openly, like it was natural.
And she heeded his call.
The waters of the Atlantic churned. The surface rolled like something ancient had stirred beneath it.
From the deep, a drydock pod rose, spraying seawater across the pier. The containment clamps peeled back with a metallic hiss. Gantries retracted.
And with a massive surge of displaced water, she arrived.
The ICS Lightning. Rowan's Frame.
Whole and gleaming in the light of the setting sun. No trace of the damage Bismarck had dealt her. No scarring at all. She was as beautiful and blameless as the day she had been laid down.
She looked like war made manifest.
Rowan turned as a series of hardlight steps shimmered into place, floating above the dock forged from the nanite architecture he shared with Lightning.
The ramp led directly onto the ICS Lightning's deck.
He held out his hand to her.
"I hope you don't mind," he said. "I thought this was better than just taking the ferry..."
What?! Bismarck's brain began firing rogue signals. Somewhere between a dial-up connection and Fairytail by Alexander Ryback.
He was inviting her aboard his Frame. WHAT?!?!
Nein. Nein. NEIN!
This wasn't just transportation or convenience. This...
It was too intimate! She cycled through several emotions. Not sure which to feel first. Gratitude? Shame? An uncomprehending desire to either run away screaming or snuggle him and just cry?
You didn't just let someone aboard your Frame, not like this. Not without military necessity. Not unless...
Not unless you trusted them wholly and completely.
This wasn't a simple obligatory date anymore.
It was a gift and one of the kindest she had ever received.
He was inviting her into the soul of his ship. Into the bond between himself and his AI, in a strange roundabout way.
Why?
Why would he offer something so close to his own soul? What had she done to be worthy of such a gesture?
Why her?
---
Rowan was terrified.
The bear had gone over well, better than he expected, honestly. But now?
Now Bismarck looked like she was about to cry.
"Oh crap!" he thought, mind racing. "Lightning, what did I do? Was that wrong? Did I mess it up?"
Lightning manifested in his vision, visible only to him. Her expression was amused.
"Nah," she said. "She's just flummoxed. You're fine. She's making a mountain out of a molehill, as far as I'm concerned."
She cocked her head and grinned.
"Go get the girl. She probably won't move until you do." She said and appeared behind Rowan, giving him a gentle push toward Bismarck.
"...Right. Okay."
He took a breath and walked toward her.
Bismarck stood motionless, still clutching the tiny bear to her chest like a lifeline.
"Hey," Rowan said gently. "Come on."
He held out his hand again.
"We gotta get a move on. I'm limited to ten percent output right now, so if we want to catch your special... we have to go."
She didn't take it. Not yet.
Instead, she looked at him with wide eyes.
"Why?" she asked softly. "Why give me this?"
Rowan blinked. Then shrugged, honest and unsure.
"Because you're wearing my shirt."
He offered a crooked smile.
"In my mind... these are the same step. It shows comfort and trust."
He extended his hand again, just a little closer.
"So... let's go?"
---
How could simple fabric mean so much?
Bismarck stared at his outstretched hand.
He had said it so plainly, like it was obvious. Like lending her a shirt and inviting her aboard his Frame were somehow... the same.
Comfort and trust.
She didn't understand.
Was that really what it meant to a man? To him?
Had she sent some kind of signal she hadn't intended? Had she been too forward, too presumptuous?
Verdammt...
She certainly hadn't meant to be. If she had, if her request had said more than she thought, then...
Then maybe she owed him something. Or maybe... maybe this was something else entirely.
Something softer & cherished...
And then, without conscious thought her hand moved.
It found his and she let him lead her up the stairs of light.
Up onto Lightning's forward deck.
And for the first time in her life, Bismarck stood not simply on a bridge, or a deck, not even on Earth...
But on Rowan's heart.
And there was no tactic or battle plan that covered this.