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“I don’t get terrified by stuff. Little stuff or Big stuff.” Amos said.
He felt a smile twitch on his face but held it back even though he was enjoying watching Holden.
Cap was trying to comprehend what he was saying. It was a deep look of concentration that struggled since he wasn’t fully caffeinated yet.
“You are already terrified just listening to me.”
“Sorry,” Holden said with a sigh.
Amos’ smile burst forward. “I like that about you,” he said.
“I don’t think or I over think,” Holden said with a shrug. “I’m trying to figure that out. Why do I only have the two default settings?”
“People are weird Cap,” Amos said slapping him on the back. He had learned to contain his force somewhat. Enough that he felt satisfied with the contact, but not enough to jolt Holden like an electric shock. It was a work in progress to find that right level of touch.
“I am terrified,” Holded admitted. “Feels good to admit it. But, at the same time, I’m glad you can see it and call me on it. Because, I don’t want to make everything about me.”
“Mr. righteous broadcast to the Sol System! Mr. Let Me Just Do One More Right Thing! Mr. I’ll do whatever ghost Miller tells me to do.”
This time Amos anchored his hand onto Holden’s shoulder.
“Cap,” he said with a broad smile, “Everything is about you. That’s why I give a fuck. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Holden exhaled, but no words came. Amos had waited to see if there would be a righteous denial. But, there was only the buzz indicating the coffee was done brewing. Holden poured two cups, his black and set it aside. He fussed adding milk replacer, stirring it, adding cream replacer, stirring it and then handed it to Amos. They sat down side by side in the Roci kitchen area. Amos loved this part of the day. Little random stuff that was so trivial, like would Holden sit next to him, or across from him today?
There was silence for a while. And Amos liked silence. But, Holden was acting antsy, fidgety. Did he want to talk but was too polite to break the silence? That was another thing thing that surprised Amos, little random stuff. Because he craved it, the consistency. Reading people's body language was still a foreign concept to him, he couldn't read that map. But, he could play the odds when he had data to mine. And Holden was a gold mine.
“Okay I’ll keep going,” Amos said.
Holden looked eager at the prospect of more talking. And that was its own reward.
“I’ve known the dregs, every direction and variation of the selfish, the cruel, the narcissistic and the self-centered. That’s not you,” Amos’ put his hand on his shoulder again and squeezed, hopefully not to much.
“You are just you,” Amos said with determination. “It’s that simple. I should know. I’m a simple guy.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Holden said.
Like a tornado, all of a sudden, the righteous energy was building. It was predictable and beautiful. The caffeine was in the process of being consumed after all. The Cap had done a 1-80 from terrified to apologetic to defensive in a couple sips.
“People are ticking time bombs,” Amos continued. “Everybody just biding their time till they explode, it happens sooner or later but it always happens. No manual, no spare parts. No instructions. We are all just waiting till our last tick.”
Holden raised his mug in acknowledgement of this statement. He had already drained his first cup and returned to the pot for another. When he took his seat again, Amos continued.
“I’m Cum-Passion and You’re Compassion,” Amos teased.
Holden looked stunned at the words and he was pleased. Perhaps a little blush on the Captain's face.
“Cap, you are terrified of hurting feelings. I ain’t got none, so we get along great. You can’t hurt me. So, I’m not a burden to you.”
“That is not why we get along,” Holden said defensively.
“No?” Amos dared him. Staring him down. Holding eye contact.
“Not even a little bit?”
Holden blinked first. He sighed again.
However, then he smiled. Not one of his confused or shy smiles, but the full on effect. Holden sipped his coffee and nodded his head.
“Okay, maybe a little bit. In the beginning. But, now I don’t need more than what we’ve been through together. That context is my brace. Because I know you’ve always got my back. And don’t judge.”
“Balanced by the fact I’m not much help.”
Amos didn’t know where that statement came from, it seemed to have appeared on his lips fully formed having bi-passed his brain completely.
“No, you’re the first to offer help,” Holden said. This time he was the one that put his hand on Amos’ shoulder and gave it a fond squeeze.
When Holden did it, the gesture was obviously affectionate Amos thought, unlike his earlier clumsy effort.
“You want to help. That is what matters.”
“It matters to you.” Amos said.
Amos couldn’t help but admire the no-bullshit frankness on display.
“One minute you talk like a victorious undefeated dragon slayer but also a righteous entitled princess. Nice equalizer.”
“We are Coffee,” Holden said, “And Grenades,” using a little coded nickname they had recently developed. Because what were they? Crewmates? Friends? Partners? It all seemed so ill-fitting. Labels that didn't contain enough.
“My grenades are the best,” Amos said with a wink. He could see Alex and Naomi approaching in the doorframe and couldn’t help but taunt, raise the eyebrows on the Martian.
“Hoss,” Alex said glancing between everyone. “What are you talking about?”
“No hardware, nothing to blow up I hope,” Naomi said with a shrewd smile.
“No worries Alex,” Holden said.
“A demonstration?” Amos asked for confirmation, just in case.
“Yes please,” Holden said with a grin. He got off the stool in the Roci kitchen and stood up.
Amos gave him a fierce bear hug, shaking and squeezing him.
“Grenade means hug?” Naomi said with a laugh.
“That oddly enough makes sense,” Alex concluded, “I mean in their own vernacular at least.”