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Fin
"I brought some beer, love. And some chocolate. Come see, this is the newest bit of your sho-" he said, slowly turning to look at Fawn.
But it wasn't Fawn.
John sat bolt upright and scrambled to his feet.
"Fin," he said, his throat tight.
"I don't know what that word is," Fin replied honestly. "I have a manager though. Goodfellow helped me secure a licence to offer my services here, and he arranges my meetings. I still get last say in who I spend time with, but he makes it easier to find work."
"I believe he's what they would call bipedal," Fin replied, puzzled.
"Oh. Yes, he has a sizable organ," Fin nodded. "When we first met he was swimming in the nude."
Fin drank as well, still eyeing John curiously
"What are your intentions with my brother?" he asked finally.
Fin frowned, but said nothing to that. Instead he moved on.
"What do you do on this ship? Do you have a job?"
"I'm not a passenger, I'm a refugee- As is Fawn. It's why we'll be asked to leave unless we find the money or means to stay," Fin explained.
"I don't want to leave this place," Fin confessed. "I finally feel like I belong somewhere."
"Work harder? Marry Hex? Fuck, I don't know," Fin chuckled, shaking his head.
"It's getting us free passage to the station," Fin shrugged.
"What I need is a rich client to sponsor me," Fin said.
"I don't think he's interested," Fin said with a sigh. "I suppose I could ask Goodfellow to find a way to keep me onboard."
"I don't see a better way, do you?" Fin asked, not noticing the way he leaned into John's touch.
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