Gibson surveys the evidence of his recreational activities as he readies himself to serve.
In Egypt, the emperor sleeps poorly.
Garrupe and Rodrigues, returning.
"Step into my fucking office."
"Don't," he says, thin and strangled — no, not strangled, really. Smothered. The word hardly left his throat at all, and if John hadn't been so close, just about on top of him in an enclosed space, he might never have heard.
(For the Tumblr prompt "things you said while you were driving".)
Tris and Four take a detour.
Aumerle doesn't seek absolution.
The two of them are marked by water.