va'esse deireádh aep eigean, va'esse eigh faidh'ar

She sleeps in Ana's bed, her first night back. Three sweatshirts, a pair of Ana's old gloves with the index fingers worn down from too much screen use, and as many blankets as the two of them could scavenge from the half-filled closets, and Mei thinks, as she curls so far into a ball that her forehead nearly touches her knees, that this might be what warmth feels like.

Ana's there when she wakes up, too, her hand heavy on Mei's thigh through the blankets. "Some of us were thinking about going down for breakfast together. Unless you'd like to sleep longer? I imagine your body still needs time to adjust to being outside of cryo."

Mei blinks away sleep, taking a moment to revel in the simple pleasure of opening her eyes - of opening her eyes to a face she'd never thought she'd see again. "I don't want to sleep. And I don't think you want to see anyone else for breakfast either."

"You did very well today, Amelie," Ana says, brushing her hair out of her eyes and smiling down at the other woman.

She's gratified to see Amélie smile back - one of her training room smiles, not quite a real smile, but it's something. "I wish I did not have to," Amélie sighs as she pushes herself to her feet, and Ana's heart twists at the words. Sometimes, when they spar, they can pretend it's just for them, and not for the war outside.

Today was not one of those days.

"Come on," Ana gestures towards the changing room. "Let me make it up to you."

Amelie needs no further encouragement, bounding forward with a grace unhindered by her workout - or by how much of it was spent on the mats with Ana kneeling her over, pinning her wrists. What they have is not regular enough to be a ritual, but has happened enough that they both look forward to it, that Ana knows to follow at a slightly more sedate pace.