Aldrich would be unsuccessful in his efforts to avoid people—or at least, one person in particular. It wasn’t by choice that Regan made her way to his office. The position she found herself in was uncomfortable and would have been happily avoided. With the full moon passed, she had more clarity regarding her actions and who stood to be affected by them. Warren, Cassian, and even Aldrich, should the rumors continue to spread. So, she’d tried to put him as far out of her mind as she could, but now, needing his help, Regan couldn’t avoid it. Now, the memory of the equipment shed came creeping back in as she moved through the halls. Heat rose to her cheeks as she thought about his self-assured smirk, the strength of his hands, and the biting tightness of his belt around her neck.

Regan stopped before his door and took a deep breath before rapping on it firmly.

Regan did.

She came inside and with crisp immediacy, shut the door behind her. When she turned back to Aldrich, Regan just stared dumbly for a moment before she managed to scrape up a handful of words from the bottom of her brain.

“You look like hell.”

Probably the wrong words.

Regan felt a twinge of… disappointment? What was it? She didn’t know what or why, but Aldrich’s manner toward her had changed. Maybe he was just hungover. Or whatever it was that had him looking ragged.

“No, not all,” Regan said, stepping further into the office and helping herself to a seat, “I, uh, need your help. With something.”

Absently, her eyes flickered over Aldrich before they returned to where they were supposed to be.

Regan could be a fool, but she wasn’t an idiot. She heard the meaningful edge in Aldrich’s voice and was, admittedly, surprised by it. The name ‘Woodwick’ made her tense and her eyes narrowed on Aldrich.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Her tone was defensive, just short of threatening.

Regan prickled with irritation. Aldirch’s apparent rejection was one that stung more than she’d admit to. But it wasn’t hurt but anger that reddened her cheeks and glittered in her eyes.

“For you to cut out whatever the fuck this is.” She crossed her arms, rather like a pouting child, eyes still narrowed in a challenge on Aldrich, “If you've got something to say, say it.”

Regan was surprised at Aldrich’s frank honesty. She raised her eyebrows, bristling annoyance starting to fade, guilt taking its place. Regan hadn’t even considered that anything she could do would impact Aldrich’s feelings. He seemed aloof, confident, untouchable. That’s part of why Regan had been drawn to him in the first place. There was both allure and safety in that.

Warren’s name had her face turning even redder. She shifted in her chair, “I don’t go running to Captain Woodwick,” Regan protested childishly, “I just…he knows how to, uh, deal with me. Which isn't something I thought you'd be interested in.”

Aldrich wasn’t wrong. It was a different approach than Warren’s, but it had been effective—and exactly what she’d asked for. Regan’s cheeks turned scarlet just thinking of it before she blinked to clear the vision. She cleared her throat, trying to slow her beating heart.

“Listen,” Regan started softly, “I don’t regret anything. I don’t. And I’m not tryna cut you out or ignore you either—really. But, uh, things are different now. I’m not tryna hurt anyone, and Warren…” Warren what? Regan wasn’t quite sure how to finish that sentence.