Felicity found the missing food before the man counting it had finished swearing at the man who'd carried it in. A chalk mark on each crate showed it had already been counted at the loading dock. Somebody had counted those same three crates again behind the bar. Through the long mirror over the sink, she could see the blue chalk still on the fingers of the man who'd carried them in.
"In fairness, I could use another three crates of peaches too," she said. "If one of you could carry the coffee past here a second time, I'd really appreciate another three crates of that too."
The man who'd carried them in laughed first. The one with the ledger turned it around and put the charcoal in her hand himself. Across the room, Victor watched her rub out the six. He'd spent the walk putting himself between her and anything that might have teeth. Here, when she found something she could do better without a wing across her line of sight, he let her do it. Somehow that made her want him back beside her all the more.
The brewery made much more sense from behind the bar. She could see the front door in the mirror, the loading dock through the empty space where a copper tank had stood, and the stair door every time someone opened it. The men already knew the building because they'd used it before their weapons job went bad. Most of the new barricades were loaded barrels rolled across old service doors. Sydney hadn't managed to build a fortress in two days. Someone had just found a practical use for all that terrible beer.
Felicity had almost finished counting when Finch palmed an extra twist of sugar. "Put it back, Finch. If you actually want to give Rose something sweet, her name works just as well on the list as yours."
He set it back to a round of cheers and a heartfelt accusation that she was a magnificent weasel. Somebody wrote it beside her name on the board. She decided to keep it. Voss waited until she had both hands full of tins before asking if she'd spotted the sugar in the mirror too.
"He looked me in the eye while he did it," she said. "People who actually belong near a box of sugar don't usually make that much eye contact."
"Christ, and I've spent the whole afternoon trying to get you to look at me." He picked up the tins she couldn't reach. By the time she thought of something to say that wouldn't reveal quite how well he'd succeeded, he was halfway to the stairs with them.
At dusk she carried the count upstairs, where Snow Team had built a fire in the old rooftop pizza oven. A glass room that must once have been somebody's idea of a greenhouse stood at the far end of the roof, beyond the stair door. Most of its panes were still in their frames. She saw blankets on a mattress inside and made a private wish that nobody had already claimed it.
Voss gave her a turn with the bottle going around the fire. She took one swallow. Whatever was in it would have removed the price sticker from the bottom of the bottle, possibly along with the glass. Victor offered her his water without comment. She appreciated that, especially since her ears had stood straight up and were doing quite enough commenting for both of them.
She settled into his lap while the men traded stories. The scar on his ribs lay under her hand. When he told the others how the river dogs had tried to drive them into each other, he left in the part where she'd heard the third one and made Rose stop. He remembered exactly where she'd been standing. She kissed the corner of his mouth in the middle of his sentence, and for a lovely few seconds the leader of Snow Team forgot how his own story ended.
After the watch changed, he took her to the glass room. Out past the darker buildings, a red light blinked on a radio tower. They couldn't tell if anybody was still broadcasting, but it felt good to see some fool piece of machinery carrying on with its job. Victor set his jacket over the cold window ledge so she could sit. She caught him looking at the mattress.
"Finish showing me the view," she said. "I put in a full shift counting canned peaches to get you to myself, and I'd hate to waste it on the skyline."
He kissed her until the glass behind her fogged. When he sat on the mattress, she settled between his knees with her back to his chest. His hand slipped under her shirt and found its way down the front of the jeans Rose had given her. She'd worked the button loose for him and was considering the benefits of getting rid of them altogether when she heard a boot stop outside the door.
Voss stood on the far side of the glass with a blanket over his arm. The rest of the roof had emptied. He set the blanket down on the ledge without taking another step. Victor followed her gaze, his red eyes clear in the dark window beside the amber reflection across from them. His fingers went still.
"I can shut that door," he told her. The wolf had already turned to go. It came to Felicity then that she could have him out of sight in a second, take her jeans off and spend a perfectly happy night with her husband. What caught her by surprise was how much she wanted to know what Voss looked like when he stopped pretending he'd come back up here for a blanket.
"Would you stay out there a minute, Voss?" she called. Her voice held, though she could feel the pulse in Victor's thumb against her thigh. "I'd like to try something, and I want you where I can see you."