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Stinger, she finds out, has always had a bit of a reputation for collecting strays. Caine is only one example; once the reinstatement paperwork is finalised (and after her experience at the Hall of Titles she really shouldn't have been surprised that the pardons were simply one step in a very, very long process -- and yet...) and things have settled down a bit (which is to say, Stinger's unit has been requisitioned as her guard and she, Stinger, Caine and, of course, Intergalactic Advocate Bob have joined the requisite queues to begin the process of redistributing the estate of Balem Abrasax, regrettably deceased) it doesn't take long for her to start spotting a pattern in the stories the boys are competing to tell her: of people made up of wariness and sharp edges and a desperate desire to have something to pour fiercely devoted loyalty into.
They were split up after the court-martial, it sounds like, and for that matter it sounds like when it came to that rather than providing any kind of merciful stay of execution the grinding wheels of bureaucracy tore right through the only place these people'd found they might fit, in some miracle of uncharacteristic but vicious efficiency. She's not actually going to say anything about it, but she can't help but notice that as far as she can tell pretty much all of them came back, and as quick as they could, like Stinger means safe.
There are two things she can't help but think about this.
One: the galaxy is incredibly fucked up.
Two: what does that say about her?
***
Then there's the part where -- well. It's not that she just accepted that it was okay that Stinger'd sold her out to Titus: it's just that she started out too focussed on trying to match up what was in front of her with the Code, and then she was too busy trying to get her head round RegeneX, and then she was just too tired to do anything to want to do anything but get home, and then after that they were riding the giddy adrenaline high of having space-rollerbladed out of an exploding factory on Jupiter and it... slipped her mind, in the euphoria of getting back in through the airlock and flinging her arms round him and Diomika. When it finally all hit it was just her and Caine in the shuttle back down (well, and her family, but they were still in the thing she is very, very definitely considering a high-tech medically-induced coma because anything else is just... nope, not thinking about it) it actually ended up coming out as but you nearly died, he nearly got you killed, how are you even slightly okay with this, and Caine just looked perplexed (and honestly kind of like -- okay, right, her friend Amy in middle school had had this dog, and she feels really bad for thinking this, but Amy's dog could tell when you were sad but it couldn't tell why and it would just sort of look at you helplessly, like, I don't know what's wrong but what do I have to do to make the world better). And then he shrugged and said, well, it was for Kiza. Kiza's gotta come first. He didn't really know you, and the deal was I'd be safe. Not his fault Titus is just like you'd expect from an Abrasax -- uh, begging your pardon, your majesty --
-- and he'd just been so... matter-of-fact about it that she... didn't feel like there was even anything to argue about? Just, oh, huh, okay then.
And. Stinger did then save Caine's life, and he did then help Caine save hers twice over, so... yeah, she can kinda see why his unit's that loyal to him.
And Kiza obviously loves her dad to bits.
Jupe's still very sure she doesn't even slightly understand how the galactics (yeah, really not cool with "aliens", thanks) think about stuff like "autonomy" and "family". She's maybe starting to get her head round how the royalty works, but stuff around how splices get treated is... still not quite making sense, or at least: the whole thing about bred for the military and the brands makes her sick, and she knows she's gotta be careful not to make assumptions about how all this stuff works based on what she knows about the Earth, so it's slow going.
But Kiza doesn't have a brand. So that's... something. And she treats Caine kinda like a cousin and kinda like an uncle and is one hundred per cent fine telling him what to do.
And Jupiter kind of can't believe she didn't notice it -- like, she saw it, but what it meant just... didn't register at the time, though in her defence she'd just found out that space humans were a thing, what the fuck -- but Caine... does that thing with Stinger, too. The thing where he ducks his head and can't quite meet your eyes, especially if he's nervous or excited; the thing where he just... loses the tension and looks happy whenever either of them's around. Like he's standing on solid ground (she... really needs to think of a better simile, like, seriously, especially now he's got the wings again), or maybe like the world makes sense, like he can believe he's doing alright. With hindsight it's kind of obvious that when he drove her out to Stinger's place that very first day it wasn't just the comms kit and the space-grade arsenal he wanted; what he was after, actually after, was someone he trusted telling him he was doing things right.
***
The first time she murmurs good to him, definite but distracted, attention focussed on filing the information he'd given her appropriately, she's startled into paying attention by the way he suddenly goes still, suddenly can't look at her face, like outside the Hall of Titles when she asked if he wanted to bite her. She can't help the grin she can feel spreading across her face and she's totally, totally cool with the part where she doesn't even think before she's reaching up to take hold of his chin, brings his eyes up to meet hers, says good boy. The wide-eyed awe and the obvious flush and the way his breathing gets fast are kinda indicative, but still, she moves her hand to rest curled fingers against his cheek instead; asks that work for you? And it's such a goddamn cliché, but yeah, satisfaction settles warm and uncurling in her belly when he nods, and he's (just barely) trembling and it's fucking adorable.
***
In around teaching her how to navigate being a space queen, Stinger's also teaching her how to handle hives. So she's sitting down to breakfast with the three of them (Stinger and Kiza and Caine, white bread and butter from the dairy farm a ways over and honey collected from the walls) the next time she feels it, a fierce assured possessiveness and the pressure of mine. And apparently it showed (on her face? or, oh god, is it something about smell? is that yet another thing she apparently needs to get a handle on? shit--) because Kiza's raised her eyebrows a bit and is clearly not even bothering pretending not to smirk, and Stinger's honestly doing about the same, and Caine's suddenly gone bright red.
It's a smell thing. It's got to be a smell thing.
So she glares at them all, softens it by nudging Caine's foot with her own under the table not that she thinks the Apinis won't notice anyway, and finishes her bread and her coffee with great dignity.
When they're finished Caine mutters something about perimeters and vanishes outside, Kiza breezily tells her dad she's going to go work on her math, and that ends up with the two of them clearing the old wood table. Jupiter still gets a kind of petty satisfaction out of the looks they all get when she does the dishes so she makes a point of claiming the sink. And then she clatters a bit, because she's embarrassed and unsure and right here, right now, that translates into grumpy.
Until they're done, and Stinger sort of gently herds her through to the couch without ever actually touching her.
***
It's been a while since he's had to give this particular talk to anyone. Well, anyone except Caine, but to be honest he doesn't really think that counts and in any case he's been giving any number of talks to Caine more or less since Caine was first assigned to his unit.
Galactic history lessons also don't count.
Oh hell.
She's crossed her arms and she's not even fidgeting. Not even to comfort the bee that's hovering around her head anxiously.
Best get it over with.
***
"So what has Caine... told you, about me and him?"
And it's just -- it's not even because he's being gruff in the way he gets when he's uncertain or shy, and not even because she now knows that's how he gets, but it's actually just how completely ridiculous the question is. Because sure, she didn't spot it to start with, but she learned a whooole lotta stuff about herself that week, and once she had it was pretty tricky to miss.
So it's kinda hard not to laugh at him, and it's almost tempting to watch him try to explain what she thinks he's about to if she pretends he means stuff like, Stinger was Caine's CO, Caine spent a lot of leave (and a lot of off-duty time when they were at base) hanging around Kiza, the rescuing-her-from-Titus thing, even just the part where Caine pretty much just shrugged about the whole near-death experience like the important thing was Stinger hadn't meant to -- but what wins, when it comes down to it, is the part where she feels like she can relax, here.
Like it's safe. Like she's doing things right.
So she tells him the truth (that Caine's not said much) and then she's honest (about the part where she has been paying attention and she has been putting things together) and it... works. And she was right.
But then Caine isn't exactly subtle about being devoted to people.
***
The way it settles out is: Stinger and Caine can only sometimes be persuaded to fall asleep at the same time rather than trading off watches and command, but still she ends up falling asleep curled between them more often than not, because what they are willing to be talked into is watching from bed. Doesn't even take her pointing out more than twice that she knows they can hear sharp enough and move fast enough to mean they can damn well watch from close enough to touch, not outside the door.
Kiza's delighted, obviously enough, grinning even while she's pretending to shake her head or roll her eyes despairingly. Doesn't hurt that she gets on great with Aleksa and loves the extra math tutoring.
They've still got a star-spanning bureaucracy to fix. But now they've got each other, too.