Rose caught Felicity at breakfast.
Real breakfast. Hot, real food. Eggs still steaming, bread torn open and dripping butter. Someone had even found jam. Actual jam.
Rose stopped short when she saw the spread. She took it in with a slow, assessing glance, then exhaled through her nose and sat down.
"Well," she said flatly, "this is impressive."
Felicity blinked. "The food?"
Rose didn't answer. She flicked her gaze around the table instead.
Every single member of Snow Team had suddenly discovered a deep, spiritual fascination with anything that was not Felicity. Plates. Boots. The wall. The ceiling. One man stared at his spoon like it might reveal the meaning of life if he looked long enough.
Except Finch.
Finch met Felicity's eyes, waved cheerfully, then went back to demolishing a stack of toast like this was completely normal.
Rose nodded once. "Good. At least one of you remembers how to behave in public."
Felicity swallowed. "Rose—"
"Oh, don't." Rose grabbed a plate and helped herself without asking. "I went to bed with a mercenary team. I woke up in a monastery."
A chair scraped loudly. Someone coughed. Another man stood so abruptly his plate rattled.
Rose spread butter with surgical precision. "So let me guess. Something happened last night that made everyone extremely aware of their own thoughts."
Felicity's ears burned.
"And Voss?" Rose continued, lowering her voice. "Really?"
Across the room, Voss suddenly decided he needed more coffee and left without a word.
Rose smirked. "Yep. Whole team. Except Finch."
Finch looked up, mouth full. "What?"
"You're fine," Rose said, pointing her fork at him. "Gold star."
Finch beamed.
Victor passed behind Felicity, setting down another plate like this was a perfectly normal morning. Warm. Smelling faintly of coffee and ozone.
Rose eyed the food again, then him. "…Your space is ridiculous," she muttered.
Victor smiled faintly.
"Don't look pleased," Rose warned. "I can be irritated and well fed."
She finished her eggs, stood, snagged another slice of bread.
"Oh," she added over her shoulder, tail flicking as she walked away, "next time you accidentally make the entire team feral, give me a warning. I like to emotionally prepare before becoming the least ogled woman in the room."
She paused at the doorway, glanced back.
"And keep the food coming. If I'm going to be ignored, I refuse to do it hungry."
Then she was gone.
The room did not relax.
If anything, it got worse.
Felicity stayed curled slightly over her plate, shoulders drawn in as if she were trying to take up less space despite the abundance in front of her. She ate in small, careful bites, cheeks puffing faintly as she chewed. Her ears twitched every time a chair scraped or someone laughed too loudly, and there was a faint shine in her eyes she kept blinking away.
She looked… overwhelmed.
Not upset. Not dramatic.
Just quietly trying not to cry.
Victor noticed immediately.
She glanced up at him once, guiltily, like she'd been caught doing something wrong just by existing. Heat crept up her neck. She swallowed too fast.
"I didn't mean to make it weird," she murmured.
Victor leaned closer, voice low. "You didn't."
She huffed softly, unconvinced, and gave his chest a light, ineffective punch. Not angry. Not strong. Just… punctuation.
"You're the one who made everyone stare," she whispered.
Then, quieter, more wounded, "And Rose was being really mean about it."
She poked him again. Softer this time.
"She said I reset the chain of command," Felicity muttered. "I don't even know what that means. She didn't have to say it like that."
Victor's mouth twitched.
He caught her wrist gently, grounding. She froze, eyes wide, then relaxed when he didn't pull her closer. Just held.
"You're doing fine," he said quietly. "And Rose's default setting is sharp. It's not about you."
Her ears drooped anyway.
She leaned into his side without realizing it, shoulder brushing his arm as she focused very hard on her food.
Victor let her eat.
But his hand stayed close.
Snow Team POV
It was worse than last night.
Last night had been instinct. Heat. Noise. Something feral and explainable.
This was quiet.
Felicity sat there eating breakfast like she had no idea she was doing anything at all. Small bites. Cheeks puffing. Eyes a little too shiny. Shoulders tucked in like she was apologizing for existing.
And she was sad.
That was the part that broke them.
One man froze mid-sip and carefully set his cup down like sudden movement might make things worse. Another stood up and announced patrol even though it was still early. Someone muttered a prayer. No one laughed.
Finch passed her the jam again.
Then Felicity sniffed softly and said, barely audible, "Rose was being kind of mean."
Every head turned.
Not toward Felicity.
Toward the doorway Rose had left through.
The looks were not subtle. They were long. Flat. Lethal.
Rose hadn't even been that harsh.
Didn't matter.
The fox was sad.
That was unforgivable.
Victor shifted just enough to block Felicity from view, broad frame a quiet wall. Only then did Snow Team look away.
The message had been delivered.
Voss POV
Voss hadn't moved since Rose left.
He watched Felicity blink hard once, like she was physically pushing the feeling down. Watched her shoulders rise and fall in a breath that didn't quite work.
The wolf in him went still.
That wasn't fear.
That was hurt.
Different thing entirely.
His jaw clenched, a low growl vibrating in his chest before he forced it down. His gaze slid briefly toward the hall Rose had disappeared down, mind already doing the math.
Not violence.
Not yet.
Just… contingency.
If Rose hurt her again, if that sharp tongue cut deeper next time, Voss wasn't sure he could trust himself not to solve the problem in a way no one asked for and everyone pretended not to notice.
He flexed his fingers instead.
Grounded himself.
This wasn't about ownership.
It was about protection.
Felicity finished her breakfast slowly, still tucked against Victor's side, unaware of the quiet line she'd drawn through the room.
She wasn't just wanted.
She was anchoring them.
And Snow Team, hardened mercenaries in a dead world, had silently agreed on something without speaking a word.
Whatever happened next
Nothing was allowed to hurt her like that again.