The Mojoworlder had never been a mission. She would have to tell him about it sometime. Not now. He couldn't talk. Or do much.

When she stretched out on top of him, he just barely managed to get a hand on her back. Then he rubbed up and down her spine. His fingers fluttered over those small, bony lumps.

"Mm-hm," he agreed as best he could. He was certain his hearts might rocket out of his chest any moment.