Thirty-seven.

That's how many clusters of wreckage Wolf O'Donnel could see at the moment. Clusters large enough to be classified as anything other than space dust. Ten minutes ago, it had been thirty-two. An hour ago, it had been fourty-nine. He sighed. He needed to get more. He could still remember the days when there hadn't been any need to pad the existing wreckage- the Sargasso region had an inexplicable natural gravity about it that pulled in wreckage from Meteos, Sectors X, Z, even some old pieces of Bolse and Area 6, after the Venomian War. But now, more than ever, he needed all the cover he could get.

Thirty-seven hours ago had been when the com went dead in mid-transmission. Thirty-five hours he had spent staring out the window of his quarters. Two was the rough estimate he made in his head of the time he spent trying to sleep, allowing Leon to shove a ration bar into his mouth, changing his clothes at least a dozen times, or a number of other things that simply couldn't hold his attention. He just went back to staring out the window.

There was nothing to tell him that he would see anything from this direction. For all he knew, they would have to come around from the opposite side, and he wouldn't know until Leon, or perhaps Panther, came in to give him the word. Yet still, he kept to the window of his own room. Anywhere else, the crew would be able to see him. To watch him watch. He wasn't sure he could stand that, right now.

It had been his room for his entire life- or near enough, what he could remember of it. His father had purchased the station, far too high a price for the heap of junk it had been at the time. It had been one of half a dozen rooms then, and neither Wolf nor his father had seen any reason to force their small crew at the time into any tighter quarters than they needed to, so Wolf had just always stayed in the Captain's quarters. That hadn't changed when Wolf's father had died, even though Wolf did sleep alone now. He'd just had always had the policy of making room for whoever he felt needed it.

Somewhere out there, there was someone who needed it very badly.

That had only been part of his reason thirty-seven hours ago. A small part. A very small part, he admitted to himself. Even knowing he wouldn't be coming alone, remembering that night in the calm before the Venomian Invasion, he had hardly decided before he was snatching the com from Panther's hand to howl his response into it. Then the transmission had died. Wolf almost had.

But he was used to that.

His eye scanned the blackness outside the station again, starting another tally. He really did need to get more. Send out a team to get more, he corrected, not get them himself. Realizing he had counted one mass twice, he mentally chided himself and started again. His heart thudded up into his throat when he realized why he had counted that mass twice. It had moved too fast to be drifting, just for a moment. A ship just barely making use of its engines, moving at a sneaking pace. At that distance, it would be hard to tell the Sargasso Space station from any other particularly large piece of wreckage, but it was definitely coming in the right direction. His nose pressed to the internally heated plastic of the window, his eyes strained until they hurt, even the one covered by his eye patch.

Two. There were two, both trying to avoid being noticed.

It had almost worked, he realized as he took the stairs two at a time. Elevator was too slow.

Leon didn't have to ask who he was supposed to hail. Wolf was grateful for that so much at the moment- his head was light and he just barely managed to keep his face smooth for the crew. The control room monitor brought up the portside surveillance grid, and instantly Wolf could point out the two.

Panther shouted out for two Corsairs to follow him out for an escort, one of them new enough he was wide eyed and wagging from being addressed by name. Wolf knew Leon had picked out the three of them beforehand, but Panther liked to make the show of it for the crew, establish dominance and command. Part of Wolf was grateful suddenly- of all the wardrobe changes he'd attempted to distract himself, he'd stopped at the one that left him in a fresh change of his everyday uniform. It simply wouldn't do to be down there in his full formal regalia, let alone his undershirt and flannels.

One fifty-five. One fifty-six. Wolf realized he was counting seconds. He didn't stop himself, even when he almost stumbled over wondering if he should be counting in minutes instead.

By the time five ships were close enough to the station to begin docking sequences, and Wolf was taking more than a second each to think of the numbers in his head, he was almost anxious enough to dash down to the hangar like he had to the control room. Almost.

Leon walked with him- or rather a step behind him and two steps in front of the five Corsairs with them- deliberately keeping a pace that Wolf would have to match in order to stay just ahead of him. He mentally thanked Leon for it, and cursed the need for it.

They all entered the hangar just as the canopy of one Arwing was opening. Wolf suppressed a flare of something- he wasn't sure what- in his chest at seeing blue. He didn't tarry on that- his eye went directly to the other Arwing, which was still settling to the deck. He couldn't quite see through the canopy, but his heart beat faster at what he thought he could see outlined.

Panther was already up to Lombardi's Arwing as he swung himself out of the cockpit, and Wolf desperately wanted to pass them both by, but Leon turned, and so did Wolf, and so did his Guard, like carts on a rail. Lombardi knuckled his back and groaned loudly. With good reason, if he'd been in the Arwing the whole thirty-seven hours. He was wearing a ratty old t-shirt and well worn jeans and sneakers- the kinds of things one plucked up from their bedroom floor in a hurry, making the blaster hilt sticking out of his front pocket especially out of place. Wolf planned out exactly what to say and how. He wasn't sure what he would say otherwise.

"Welcome aboard Sargasso, Falco," he said, with just enough formality to sound not all that formal. He was greeting a guest now- a friend- he could go back to using Lombardi's family name after tomorrow. The smile that split the shorter man's beak as he leveled himself up before Wolf was far too much relief of being able to spread his legs, and not near enough thanks at being offered sanctuary. Wolf squashed his irritation- Lombardi regularly jumped the line of legality like it was his front doorstep, and he'd just gone out for the morning paper. Just another morning, to him, only this time he'd be reading outside for a bit longer.

"Thanks, Wolf. Good t'see ya 'gain," Falco Lombardi replied, with just enough less formality than Wolf to be noticeable. He didn't know the game as well as Wolf, but he played enough to know how make an opening move. Lombardi's eyes touched on Leon and Panther, lingering on Panther for just a bit more, before returning to Wolf. Next move.

"You've had a long, hard trip, I'm sure. We've made accommodations for you in Panther's quarters. If you'll just follow him, he can show you where you can wash up, and call the kitchens if you want to eat first."

Lombardi's face brightened just a hair- he wasn't trying to suppress it, just not conscious of it- before nodding and grinning at Panther. Which was good; Lombardi had been loyal to Star Fox when he got what he wanted often enough to discount when he didn't, and this was obviously a good start. Leon would probably call in the young Corsair who had gone out with Panther into his rooms tonight to use the spare bed in his room, now. Leon liked having company at night, and disliked waste. Lombardi followed Panther at his gesture.

"Good, cuz I'm hungry enough to eat some...huge thing," he finished with a yawn that cracked his jaw. Metaphors weren't Lombardi's strength even at the best of times.

Panther went on about what he knew was available cold in the kitchen at the moment and what could be cooked quickly as he lead Lombardi off. It was all Wolf could do to stand with his hands clasped, watching them go and not barking at them to hurry out. Once they were at the door, Wolf turned toward the other Arwing. He would have dashed forward immediately, but Leon's constant presence at his shoulder tugged him like a tether, and he kept his pace normal. He saw that the canopy on the other ship was open now, and was very conscious of the step he almost missed as they rounded Lombardi's Arwing.

Fox McCloud's fur was matted and frazzled, sticking and flattening at odd places on his head, and his tail looked no better. His clothes were an improved match for Lombardi's- the t-shirt somewhat better kept, the Star Fox insignia on the shoulder, covered by a uniform vest that could have only been donned in haste to look presentable to a video call. His green sweat pants bagged around his boots, one of them without all the straps done, and the belt holding his blaster nearly fell off as he gingerly lowered himself from the cockpit. Wolf took the ring of red cloth around the vulpine's neck for granted. Perhaps Fox did, too.

Wolf's hackles rose when one of Fox's hands slipped on the rim of the cockpit- every fiber of his being coiled to pounce forward and catch him- but Leon's tether held him by fibers as Fox righted himself and dropped to the floor. He straightened with visible difficulty as Wolf came to a stop a near him, too near, he realized, yet so painfully far.

"Welcome aboard Sargasso, Fox," Wolf said, holding out a hand. Or thought he did. It took a moment before he processed what he had said. "Glad to see you're safe, Pup." He wasn't quite sure for what reason, but the fact that he'd added that last horrified him more than that he'd slipped in the first place by folds. He couldn't berate himself for it too long- not when Fox's eyes shone like that on a far too forlorn face. Had they always looked so green?

"Thanks, Wolf," Fox responded as he took Wolf's hand firmly, the slight twist to his smile the only indication he'd really noticed Wolf had slipped. Leon's left foot tapped to Wolf's side. He knew it was the left foot- it was the one that tapped when Leon was cross with Wolf but couldn't show it at the moment. Wolf took a breath to calm himself; he could only go forward now.

"Were you followed?" The question was all but obligatory. Piracy did that. Fox shook his head so slightly and slowly that Wolf could almost feel the tightness in the other man's neck himself. Then again, his own was tight enough that he had a hard time swallowing the lump in his throat.

"No no...I knew the safest way here, and Falco, well, he knows how to avoid notice better than me, but I did everything he told me, and...no, I don't think we were followed."

"Good," Wolf began, just barely missing talking over Fox's last words, and turned to the Corsairs behind him. "Get back to the control room immediately and engage full stealth lockdown. We need to disappear." All five saluted sharply with a curt "Aye, captain" before hurrying off. Convenient that the established guard of the Captain when greeting guests was five and the required personnel to oversee a lockdown of any sort was at least five. Yes, convenient.

"Leon," Wolf began, but Leon was already half-turning to go as well and cut him off.

"Two of the three-meat noodle dishes, one with no peas," he said looking at Wolf, before looking at Fox, "and one with extra carrots. A bottle of the flavored water," his gaze returned to Wolf, "one of the Captain's malt, and extra blankets." His eyes said that not only did he remember Wolf had said once how Fox liked to be bundled when sleeping, but that Wolf had himself just remembered it and was about to ask for the blankets specifically. Wolf would have hugged the man if one of the Corsairs were not just getting to the door.

"Thank you, Leon," was all he could say with a warm smile. Leon gave the barest nod of his head, looking to Fox again with an unreadable face.

"It really is good to see you safe, Fox," he said before hurrying toward the elevator. If Wolf had to guess, there were already extra carrots being added to a plate of three-meat noodles at that moment, and the two galley chefs were arguing over which dessert to start on.

He allowed his smile to stay as he turned back to Fox. The smaller canine was still smiling- a bit less readily now. Something was weighing on his eyes.

"Your ship," Wolf began, "The Great Fox, I mean-"

"It's gone," Fox answered, as though he had needed to rehearse that answer in his head a thousand times over before being able to voice it. Wolf shut his mouth with a click. Reassurance that they could reclaim the Great Fox from military capture had been part of the plan. But Wolf knew all about best laid plans. He held out his hand again.

"Come on. You need to lie down." Wolf really didn't care that there were still mechanics in the Hangar as he led Fox toward the elevator, hand in hand. As they rode up, sounds around them slowed and died, the lights in the shaft dimmed, and the speed of the lift slowed to a crawl. Damn, but the Corsairs had moved fast. It was another minute before the lift stopped, but as they exited into the hallway, Wolf realized he was no longer holding Fox's hand. He hadn't let go. Certainly, he hadn't. Wolf's face smoothed. A fire grew in his belly as he slowly made a decision.

The tension in the air was almost palpable as Fox and Wolf walked in silence. It was late even by the local time- the rest of Sargasso's crew were asleep aside from the watch Leon had rotated every five hours. Most of them were now released from their shifts, aside from those needed for the bare bones operations still needed, and the lights along this hall were all considerably dimmed, every other out completely.

"...Thank you, Wolf," Fox said finally, taking a deep breath after the effort of breaking the silence. "Again, just...thank you."

"You don't have an excuse anymore, you know," Wolf cut in as though he hadn't heard the younger man. Fox missed a step, catching himself before raising an eyebrow.

"What excuse...?"

Wolf turned and faced him so suddenly he almost bumped into the lupine's broad chest, Fox blinked as he realized that Wolf's coat was open- revealing a black tank top, a gold medallion hanging into his exposed chest fur. Fox had to make himself look up at Wolf's face. It was serious- not quite as sinister now as when he had the bionic monocle instead of the eye patch- but Fox could feel heat from behind both his eyes.

"The same one you've used since that night." Wolf somehow loomed more without moving a muscle, making Fox feel every bit of their height difference. Eyes widening, he opened his mouth to speak, but Wolf went right over him.

"'We can't,' you said, 'not while we're on opposite sides of the law.' I suppose you assumed that when that happened, with how many times you told me, it would have meant I'd gone straight," The double meaning of that word was not lost on Fox. "But now...you're every bit of a criminal as I am. What's more, you're coming to me for protection from the law, because they took everything from you when you refused to go along at the first order."

"It's not the same-!" Fox tried to argue, but suddenly Wolf's chest did bump into his, pushing him back against the cold metal wall. He'd been backing up without realizing it.

"You're a criminal, Fox. Corneria and Pepper and all of them say so. They say it about me now, too, for the same reason. Among others, of course, but its still another they'll chalk up to my record. You've done plenty of mercenary work over the years, Fox. But they'll find contracts you never signed, deals you never made, jobs you never did...and demonize you for their agenda. It's already started, you know. They'll say you started the conflict, and they had to destroy your ship, your home, in defense; that you're proof that no gun-for-hire is safe to leave free. They're not on your side. As far as they're concerned, they never were." Wolf breathed deeply. Fox's face had fallen lower and lower with each word. "...But I am, Fox." The last came out as a whisper, their faces as close as it gets without touching. "You asked for my help, and I've offered everything, risked everything I have, to keep my word to you. And the one thing you said was keeping us apart is gone. It's gone. All that's left is..."

The distance between their mouths closed so fast that Fox's head spun.

Thirty-five. Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. After that Wolf stopped counting, and just held the kiss.

-----

~Star Ringer
Characters © Nintendo