Evan and Russo were waiting for her.
And they had their feet up on her desk.
Finley's eye twitched. "You fucking fuckers, get your fucking feet off my fucking desk." She glared but there wasn't much heat to it and all it did was make them laugh.
Littlefoot, shaking from excitement at the sight of them, jumped into Evan's lap, nearly tipping over his chair with the two of them in it and Finley laughed.
Evan was as much of an animal lover as Finley and enthusiastically scratched the dog's neck while his face was thoroughly licked.
With her desk clear of feet, she settled into her chair and let the weight of the day settle into her bones.
"Went pretty smooth today." Russo offered. He had a naturally laconic personality and spoke far less than either Finley or Evan. He liked to start conversations and then just listen to everyone else.
He also liked to start arguments and then watch the ensuing chaos like a movie.
Finley and Evan knew him well enough to avoid those instances now, but neither of them was noble enough to intervene when he did it to other people.
Finley nodded, fighting the urge to nod off now that she'd stopped moving.
"I thought that fucking engine was going to kill us all for a minute." Evan muttered as Littlefoot decide she was done with Evan and made a graceful leap from his lap to Russo's to give the security specialist the same treatment.
"What was it?"
"Burned coil." Evan slumped in his chair. "Took a minute to find it because it was in the cooling system."
"And how's Carl?" Finley couldn't help but smile a bit at the mention of him. More famous for his propensity to find trouble than anything else, the kid was a sweetheart and she'd been happy to see him on the crew roster.
"Just a sprained ankle. Nemo's in worse shape."
"He's always been a worrier."
Russo grinned. "How's Dark and Stormy?"
Evan flushed and Finley turned to him. "You ran into him again?"
Russo laughed even as Evan glared at him. "Not on purpose. He's a medic. Someone broke the damn access panel to the clinic on Level Seventeen. He was not pleased."
"That's fortunate." Finley grinned.
"It was a chance meeting, that's all." Evan had always been expressive, the man couldn't bluff to save his life, and he settled into a petulant sulk he'd perfected as a teenager. "Besides, he's not looking for a relationship right now."
"You managed to work that into the conversation in a chance meeting?"
"Well, I wasn't going to waste the opportunity, was I!"
"Sounds like he was trying to let you down easy." Russo smirked.
"Shut up. He was not. He's nice."
"I'm sure he is. I'm sorry he's not interested." Finley knew Evan often felt lonely. Of the three of them, he was the only one who really wanted a partner and kids. To build a better family than the one he'd come from.
He'd be great at it too, but none of his relationships so far had ever worked out that way.
Evan offered a small smile. "It's okay. It's probably stupid to try and start something right now anyway. We need to focus on making sure the crew integrates safely. Us dating wouldn't go down well."
"I don't know, could be like Romeo and Juliet uniting the Capulets and whatever the other one was."
Finley and Evan stared at Russo.
"Is that how that ended?" Finley wondered with narrowed eyes. The story was so old that aside from the occasional reference in a show or song, it had mostly been forgotten.
"Also, pretty sure they died at the end." Evan muttered. "So maybe not what we want right now."
"It would be nice to get through the first week with minimal bloodshed." Finley murmured. "There were a few dust ups today, but nothing that couldn't be walked away from."
"That'll change now that we're underway." Russo warned.
"You don't know that." Evan immediately argued. They were the definition of an optimistic and a pessimist and Finley often fell somewhere in the middle. It made them surprisingly effective at planning, because they could usually cover most possible outcomes effectively.
"The excitement will wear off." Russo dug his fingers into Littlefoot's neck, and she panted in pleasure. "A ship docked at Walker an hour ago."
Finley and Evan shared a confused look and waited for him to continue.
"Rumor has it Betchley was a passenger."
Finley frowned. "Betchley?"
"Peter Betchley? The one the Republican's wanted as Captain?" Evan straightened, concerned.
Russo nodded.
"And your point is the interesting timing." Finley figured.
Russo nodded again.
"Well, we knew they were going to try something at some point. There are four hundred and ninety-seven possibilities."
"Five hundred and seventeen." Evan corrected, because one of his greatest skills was his inability to hold a grudge. He was the only person she knew that didn't want to vent the Neutrals out an airlock. "I think we can discount a few."
"No." Russo was firm. He always was when it came to security issues. "Everyone has their price. Even Dark and Stormy."
"I was thinking about Carl and such, actually." Evan snapped.
"Carl was raised by a struggling single mom with five siblings. He sends most of his pay to them."
"He's a good kid. He cries when we pass dying stars." Evan argued.
"And he loves his mum more than he loves any of us." Russo pointed out. "It wouldn't be a betrayal of us to him, it would be loyalty to his mother."
Finley put a hand up to forestall Evan's retort. "Just to clarify, you don't actually suspect Carl?"
"I suspect everyone except the people in this room." Finley frowned. "But I don't have any specific evidence towards anyone yet."
Finley and Evan relaxed.
"It's probably a safe guess that there's more than one." Evan offered an olive branch.
"On both sides."
"What about the Diplomats?" Evan and Russo ignored Finley's grimace.
"Well at least one of them wants the Captain's seat."
~ tbc