notthatkindofkell

Messaging Annalise is one thing, Mykelle thinks, and messaging Liam is another. She knows them both, after all, if not well. It’s not so bad, saying sorry to someone you’ve interacted with several times.

But Andrei? The quiet, intense warlock that is the third member of their fireteam? She hardly knows him. She can imagine her message now:

Hi, you don’t know me, but I’m sorry for dragging you across the Cosmodrome and shooting your boss.

How eloquent. She’s an adult guardian; why should composing a message to a rookie be this hard?

Wren settles on her shoulder and nudges her cheek. “What’s wrong?” her Ghost asks.

She sighs. “Is it bad that I care this much about what a group of rookies thinks of me?”

“Never. You care about them. And that’s a good thing.” Wren floats over to the message pad. “C’mon. I’ll help.”


Andrei is deep in the archives when Wisp flickers and whispers that he has a message. “I’ll get it later,” he says, not wanting to look up from a tattered grimoire and its collection of pictures, documenting the dissection of a Vex minotaur in full detail. Is it a dissection or a dismantling? Are the Vex alive to be taken apart? Or are then just overgrown, metal-shelled viruses with no will of their own?

Wisp flickers and beeps in irritation, settling between Andrei and the grimoire. “You’ll want to see it,” the Ghost insists.

Sighing, he brushes Wisp out of the way. “Fine. Show me.” He’s not so sure, but his Ghost is determined, and he won’t be able to read in peace until he gives in. Wisp can be rather stubborn.

The message comes from someone beyond his contact list. Considering how few people he knows, that’s not entirely surprising. At least it’s not from Lyncis.

What kind of cookies do you like? (This is Mykelle, James’s Crucible partner. I wanted to apologize to everyone for what happened at the Cosmodrome, so I’m making cookies.)

Andrei reads the message. Blinks. Looks at his Ghost.

“…She wants to make cookies for me?”

Why? He barely knows her, and he doubts their mission to recover James exactly impressed her. He had blatantly disobeyed her, after all.

Still. It’s cookies, probably with his fireteam, and that’s a connection he’s happy to reinforce. Even if this does seem like a roundabout way to apologize. He’s not offended. Nervous, yes, because this is the kind of woman who would cripple a teammate. At least he won’t be going alone, or heading into the field with her again for awhile.

Thanks. You don’t have to apologize to me.

She really doesn’t. He’s not the one she shot.

I won’t say no to cookies, though. Do you know how to make peanut butter ones?



Does she? Rookie, don’t insult her. Mykelle flips through her recipe files to see if she has everything she needs. It looks like she’ll need to make a run into the city to get more brown sugar, but everything else is fine.

Humming an old tune to herself, she composes a response.

Easily. Do you like them crisp or soft?

While waiting for his answer, she begins to gather everything she’ll need for five batches of cookies. It’s an awful lot, but she’s sure she can make them all in the space of an afternoon. Lemon cookies will be a bit tricky, and she’s also running low on mint extract. At least peanut butter cookies will be easy.

Soft, please. I would even eat the dough. Would you like me to bring milk to go with them?

Aw. So thoughtful. And to be honest, she hadn’t considered needing milk to go with all these cookies.

Maybe she was right to include him after all.