They walked back to the settlement hand in hand, neither speaking much but comfortable in the silence.

When they reached the residential area, Jessica stopped. Her quarters were one direction. Satou's were another. This was the moment of decision.

"I don't want to go back to my room alone," Jessica said quietly, her eyes on their joined hands rather than Satou's face. "But I also don't want you to think I'm expecting anything. I just... I don't want tonight to end yet."

"Then come to my quarters," Satou said. "We'll figure out the rest as we go."

Jessica looked up at him, searching his face for something. Whatever she found there seemed to satisfy her, because she nodded. "Okay. Yes. I'd like that."

They walked together to Satou's quarters—the modest room he'd been using since the settlement's founding. It wasn't fancy, but it was private and comfortable.

Satou opened the door and let Jessica enter first. She stepped inside and looked around, taking in the simple furnishings—bed, desk, storage chest, not much else. Everything practical and functional, because Satou hadn't had time or inclination to make it more than that.

"It's very... you," Jessica observed. "Practical. Organized. No wasted space."

"Lyra's been after me to personalize it more," Satou admitted, closing the door behind them. "She says a chief's quarters should reflect his personality, not just be a place to sleep between crises."

"She's probably right." Jessica turned to face him, and suddenly the nervousness was back. "So... um... what do we...?"

Satou could see her overthinking, could see anxiety building as the reality of being alone together in his quarters sank in.

He closed the distance between them and pulled her into a gentle embrace. "We don't have to do anything except be together. No expectations, remember? We can just talk more, or you can stay here and we just sleep, or if you're uncomfortable you can go back to your quarters and there's no judgment. Whatever you want, Jessica."

He felt some of the tension leave her body as she relaxed into the embrace. "I want to stay," she said into his chest. "I'm just nervous. This is all so new and I'm worried I'll do something wrong or you'll realize you made a mistake or—"

"I didn't make a mistake," Satou interrupted firmly. "You're not doing anything wrong. And there's no script for this. We just... be together. However that looks."

Jessica pulled back slightly to look up at him. "Can we just... lie together? Just hold each other? That sounds nice. Safe."

"That sounds perfect," Satou agreed.

They settled onto his bed—Jessica still wearing her blue dress, Satou still in his tunic and pants. No grand seduction, no dramatic passion. Just two people lying together, Jessica curled against Satou's side, his arm around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest.

"I can hear your heartbeat," Jessica murmured. "It's faster than normal. Are you nervous too?"

"A little," Satou admitted. "This is new for me too. Different from being with Lyra. Not better or worse, just... different. Learning how to be with you specifically rather than just following a pattern."

"I like that," Jessica said. "That you're treating this as something unique to us, not just repeating what worked with Lyra."

"You are unique," Satou said. "You deserve to be treated that way."

They lay together in comfortable silence for a while. Satou could feel Jessica's breathing gradually slowing, her body relaxing completely against his. The nervousness that had characterized most of the evening was finally fading, replaced by simple contentment.

"Satou?" Jessica said eventually, her voice drowsy.

"Mm?"

"Thank you for tonight. For making it special. For being patient with me being nervous. For... for everything."

"You don't need to thank me for caring about you," Satou replied, his fingers gently stroking through her hair. "That's not something you have to earn or be grateful for. It just is."

"I know. But I'm grateful anyway." She shifted slightly, tilting her head up to look at him. "Can I kiss you?"

"You never have to ask permission for that," Satou said.

Jessica smiled and leaned up, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was gentle and sweet—exploratory rather than passionate, both of them learning the shape and taste of each other.

The kiss was a soft, lingering thing, a bridge built between the comfortable quiet of before and the new possibility humming in the air. Jessica's lips were softer than Lyra's, her touch more tentative, as if she were mapping a new landscape. Satou met her gently, letting her set the pace, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek.

When she pulled back, her eyes were wide, pupils dilated in the low light. "I've never… I mean, Lyra said it was wonderful, but…"

"We don't have to do anything Lyra did," Satou murmured, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "This is just you and me. No comparisons."

Jessica smiled, a little of the tension leaving her shoulders. "I'd like to kiss you more."

"I'd like that too," Satou said, and this time he initiated, leaning in to capture her mouth again. He kept it slow, exploring, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she sighed and opened for him. The taste of her was different—sweeter, with a hint of the honeyed tea she favored. He deepened the kiss gradually, feeling her melt against him, her hands coming up to rest lightly on his chest.

Jessica's inexperience was palpable, a nervous energy that made her movements a little clumsy, but it was endearing. He let his hands roam over the soft blue fabric of her dress, feeling the generous curves of her body beneath. When his palm brushed over her breast, she gasped into his mouth, her back arching slightly.

Satou broke the kiss, his lips trailing along her jaw to her ear. "Is this okay?" he whispered, his hand cupping her fully, his thumb finding her nipple through the cloth. It was already a hard peak.

"Yes," Jessica breathed, her head falling back. "It feels… more than okay."

He took that as permission to continue. His mouth traveled down the column of her throat, tasting her skin, feeling her pulse hammering against his lips. His fingers found the lacing at the front of her dress, and he looked up at her, a question in his eyes.

"Please," she said, her voice husky. "I want to feel you."

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