Chloe followed him out of the observation room. After the length of a corridor, he stopped and turned around.

"Did you need anything else, Miss Armstrong?"

"I just wanted to say….I'm sorry."

He looked genuinely bewildered. "What do you have to be apologizing to me for?"

"Trying to beat you up. After my dad died. It wasn't the sort of thing he would have wanted, after he gave his life so I….we could live. And I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." He turned away and continued towards his room. He could feel her following him, but assumed her own quarters must be this way as well, he hadn't been paying attention to mundane issues such as sleeping arrangements. However, instead of veering off, she followed him into his own room.

"Are you lost?"

As soon as the door slid shut, she was kissing him. He was surprised and stepped back. "Not that I didn't enjoy that, but what are you doing?"

"I thought it was obvious."

"All right, I'll give you that. But why with me? What about Lieutenant Scott? The two of you have seemed very cozy the last few days. Or Eli. He's closer to your age, and you can't tell me you've missed the looks he's been giving you."

She took a step closer to him. "They're just boys."

He let out an amused chuckle. "You're just a girl."

"But I feel like I'm a hundred years old. What's that saying? Something about not truly becoming a man until your father dies. "

"I hate to state the obvious, here, love, but you're not a man."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. But I feel the same holds true for me. All my life I've been Alan Armstrong's daughter. I got a degree in political science, because that's what he wanted, and I became his executive assistant 5 minutes after graduating. This is the first time I've stood on my own two feet. I've become a grown up overnight. I can make my own decisions, and I've decided I don't want to die alone. I want to die with you."

"I'm flattered, really-" his words were cut off by her mouth against his. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to kiss her back. It was hard to think with this delicious child pressed up against him. He reached up and touched her hair, soft against her back, and broke the kiss, deciding impulsively that he didn't want to die alone either.

When they parted, she asked, "Would you rather read your book? I've heard it's only mediocre." His answer was obvious by the hungry look in his eyes, and she took his hand, leading him to the bed.