Going Away Present

Talitsa's sun was up, turning the docking bay's white concrete and blue glass blindingly vibrant, and still the Chancer V rested on the tarmac. Gavin normally would've pushed the crew to lift off by daybreak, but today hadn't even emerged from his cabin by then. Not that Simon was complaining, but Cassandra had come to see them off, and he felt awkward wasting her time. He'd tried to keep her company, talking in circles while Gavin picked up coffee and took his time selecting a bagel to swipe from the spaceport's breakfast lounge.
When Zoey was up and they were finally ready, Simon was last to say goodbye and cross the rubbery fumes rising from the baking tarmac. The cooler air in the Chancer’s shadow relieved him to step into, but Gavin stopped him with a hand on his chest at the top of the boarding ramp.
"Go give this to her," he said, pushing a folded bundle of bright white cloth into his hands.
Simon stared at it, then at Gavin resting lazily back on his heels. Cassandra, if that's who he meant, was standing by the docking ring's wall to watch the take-off. Not fifty meters away, just out of sight around the corner of the cargo door. "Why?"
Gavin's cheek scrunched on one side, eyes narrowing at Simon like he'd said something stupid. "Whaddya mean why? It's a going-away present, just give it to her."
"Okay! Okay," Simon placated, turning around. He didn't see why he had to deliver it. But like so many other things Gavin got worked up about, it didn't seem worth fighting over. He set off back across the hot tarmac with the cloth held stiffly in front of him.
When Simon disappeared around the corner, Gavin cast a glance over his shoulder. Two heavy clunks hit the deck as Zoey ducked under a railing and jumped from one of the cargo bay's staircases. The cabin girl jogged up to peek around the bay door's corner after their crewmate.
"You turn on his radio?" Gavin asked, reaching for a plastic box on his belt.
"Mhm," Zoey replied. Gavin flicked her shoulder, and she shrank back from the door, feigning contrition. Then she fixed her eyes on Gavin's walkie-talkie as its red ON light lit up.
The cheap receiver buzzed, but carried the rhythmic clacks of boot steps. They slowed to a stop, and Simon's hesitant voice announced, "Uh... Gavin wanted me to give this to you."
Gavin clapped a hand over his forehead. Zoey used the distraction to peek back around the corner.
Simon looked uncomfortable holding out the folded cloth, unsure what he was doing and stifling in the heat trapped under his patchy poncho. Cassandra lifted the top fold to let spotless sleeves and a long body unfurl between them, brilliant in the direct sun.
"A lab coat!" her exclamation filtered through. "I left all mine on Venezia!"
"Does it fit?"
Cassandra slid one arm through a sleeve, then spun to catch the coat's other side. The twirl made her shoulder-length black hair float like the coat's hem.
"Yes, it's just right. I'll, um... try not to get blood on it. Too often."
"Good grief," Zoey sighed. "I think I get it now, why they're not together already."
"Yeah?" Gavin asked.
Zoey stretched up on tip-toes, watching the rogue Spartans like the subjects of a nature documentary in a strange courtship ritual. "It's not just him. They're both idiots."
Gavin snickered when Cassandra's voice broke the quiet on the other end of the line. "You'll have to thank Gavin for me."
"Oh my—I can't take this any more." Gavin lifted the radio to his face and held a button. "Tell her she looks good in it!"
Outside, Simon and Cassandra both jumped, then stared at the former's belt. Simon looked indignantly back at the ship, and Zoey was too busy suppressing her laugh to draw back fast enough. The walkie-talkie clicked a moment later as the other end went dead.
Gavin curtailed his chuckle and shut his radio off, too. "Alright, he'll be coming back. Go get the pre-flight started."
Quick to disappear, Zoey ran off without argument and vanished through the engine room door. Gavin wandered over to the side of the cargo ramp and leaned against the door frame as Simon reappeared. He had a recriminating glare fixed on Gavin, but said nothing and spun to stand beside him at the ramp's top.
"Did ya kiss her?" Gavin asked.
Simon's hard stare evaporated into surprise. "What? No!"
Gavin smirked. "Too bad. Somebody's gotta do it, and I ain't doin' it for you."
The Chancer’s engines started warming up, sucking in air and sweeping the docking bay in backwash. Cassandra walked into sight along the bay's distant rim, safe from the worst of the wind flapping the new coat behind her. Gavin lifted an arm to wave as his other hand slapped the door control. The ramp began to lift, its edge rising to cover their view of Cassandra's return gesture.
Just loud enough to hear over the whir of hydraulics, Gavin said, "You should wave at her."
"Shut up," Simon grumbled, planning on it until Gavin had suggested. A moment later, though, he did so anyway.
Just before the ramp covered her, Cassandra's raised arm swayed in a more animated response. A smile crept unconsciously onto Simon's face even as the ramp finished retracting and she was lost to sight. It wasn't every day he had an effect like that on people, and seldom did it make him feel something in return.
"You can stop waving at the door, genius!" Gavin called, halfway across the empty cargo bay.
Embarrassed, Simon shoved his hand back in a pocket.