Unwelcome surprises

Trin hadn't been up for long, and had been giving serious thought to simply climbing back into bed and hiding from the mess her life had become. How in the world it had gotten so chaotic in such a short period of time, she couldn't even begin to guess.

Steve seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. She hadn't heard from him since the night that he'd called her while in the middle of fight, somehow expecting her to magically appear to save his ass. Trin was good - but she wasn't that good. Pouring a glass of wine, she stared out the windows onto her private garden and tried to find a measure of calm. She had a few assignments that she needed to take care of, little things, bit of information gathering, that would require all of her attention.

Focusing her thoughts, she headed upstairs to get changed and plan out her evening. Halfway up, there was a knock on her door, causing her to pause. She could ignore it - if it was important they'd come back later or leave a note. The knock came again, a little louder. Shrugging to herself, she went to answer it.

One of the servants stood there, a box in his arms. "This was hand delivered for you earlier, Ma'am." Clueless, Trin accepted it, thanking the servant, who gave a small bow and left. Returning to the living room, Trin settled on her couch, setting the box on the coffee table before her. There was a note, the handwriting on the enveleope unfamailer to her. Opening it, she was shocked it was from Steve.

Trin-

I wish I didn't have to tell you this in a letter, but there is no way I can tell you face-to-face. I have to leave, because duty calls when you least expect it. First of all, should I die, I want you to know that (probably due to the whole bonding thing) I find myself growing more and more fond of you, shall we say. But a more pressing matter is at hand. When/if I return, we will need to re-do that whole little dinner date thing we did a while back. Let's hope we don't have to dodge crossbow bolts or machine gun fire this time. But now, since time is short, I need to go. Goodbye.

Sincerely yours,
Lt. Col. Steven James Rowland

PS: I have place several items in here for safe keeping. Feel free to use them, such as my keys, which go to my car, truck, motorcycle, house, ect., and my gun. All I ask is that I get them back, and that you STAY OUT OF THE BASEMENT!!! Trust me, you want no part of what's down there. Besides, you cant get in. Not unless you can walk into a solid steel box, which happens to be 100% airtight.

Trin wasn't sure which shocked her more - that the little rat had left without saying goodbye, or that it actually hurt that he had done so. Baffled, she opened the box, staring at the contents. The gun he had loaned her the night they had taken out the rogue, a set of keys, a knife and Steve's dogtags. The last she picked up, clutching them in her hand, completely baffled by this turn of events. Not a word from him in two weeks and now this. The last time she had seen these tags, she had been patching him up and had known intstinctvly not to touch them. And now he had handed them over... and he was growing fond of her??

Well, depending on how long he was gone, they'd know if it was the bond or not. Thinking hard, she knew that the bond would wear thin in the next week or two. If he was gone longer than that, they'd have to start all over again - assuming he still wanted or needed it. And if she wanted or needed it...

Slipping the tags over her head and into her shit, she headed up to get dressed. She'd take care of his things and wait to see what the future held. In the meantime, she doubted he'd thank her for neglecting her job. And that job now included locating a young woman named Nikki Rowland.

(Contents of note, pulled from original thread)

(Trin Out)