Brick by Brick

Jasper balanced the tray of food carefully as he made his way down to the engine room, the dishes clattering slightly with each step. He'd been bringing Thaddeus his meals for a week now, but the prickly engineer never seemed to warm up to him. If anything, Thaddeus only grew more caustic with each interaction.

As Jasper entered the engine room, he spotted Thaddeus in his usual spot, hunched over his console. "Your dinner," Jasper announced, swiping a spot clear of debris on a nearby workbench.

Thaddeus didn't look up from his work. "Just leave it," he said curtly, his tone making it clear Jasper's presence was an unwelcome distraction.

Jasper bit back a sigh. He watched Thaddeus work for a moment, marveling at the speed and precision of his movements. "Looks like a nice spread today," he commented, trying to make conversation as he set the tray down. "Chef's special."

A grunt. Then, "If it's anything like yesterday's slop, I'd rather lick the reactor core."

Jasper blinked, taken aback by the vitriol in Thaddeus's voice. "I thought the meatloaf was pretty good," he said, trying to keep his tone light.

Thaddeus snorted, still not turning from his work. "Then your taste buds must be as underdeveloped as your mechanical skills, LaBrant."

Jasper felt a flare of indignation, his cheeks heating. He took a breath, forcing himself to remain calm. Getting angry wouldn't help. "I like to think my mechanical skills are just fine," he said evenly. "I did graduate top of my class at the academy."

At this, Thaddeus did turn, and even though Jasper knew he couldn't see him, he could swear he felt the weight of the engineer's disdain. "And I'm sure that means a great deal to you," Thaddeus drawled. 

Jasper bit the inside of his cheek, counting silently to ten. He wanted to snap back, to defend himself, but he knew it would be futile. Thaddeus, it seemed, was determined to be as abrasive as possible.

"The pie's getting cold," Jasper said instead, his voice carefully neutral. "You should eat it before it congeals."

Thaddeus waved a dismissive hand. "Leave it. Or don't. I couldn't care less."

He turned back to his console, his posture rigid and uninviting. Jasper stood there for a moment, watching the tense line of the engineer's shoulders, the white-knuckled grip of his hands on his tools.

"You're welcome," Jasper said tersely, as though reminding him of the very existence of manners. "Anything else, or shall I remove my bothersome presence posthaste?"

Thaddeus's eyebrows shot up at Jasper's tone. For a moment he seemed at a loss for a sufficiently cutting retort. "That… will be all," he finally managed stiffly.

As Jasper left, he couldn't help a small, grim smile of satisfaction. It seemed even Thaddeus could be caught off guard on occasion.

But the next day, Thaddeus was back in fine form, greeting Jasper with a barrage of scathing remarks.

"Careful now, we wouldn't want you to strain yourself with such taxing labor as carrying a tray," he drawled as Jasper set down his meal.

Jasper gritted his teeth, determined not to rise to the bait. "Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Beaufort?" he asked pleasantly.

Thaddeus made an irritated sound. "You could start by not asking inane questions. What are you going to do, fluff my pillow? Sing me a lullaby?"

"I could read to you from the engine manuals," Jasper suggested helpfully. "That ought to put you right to sleep out of sheer boredom."

For just an instant, Thaddeus's lips twitched as if suppressing a smile. But it was gone in a blink, replaced by his usual annoyed frown. "Your attempts at wit are as feeble as your attempts at being useful. Now kindly get out of my engine room."

Day after day, Jasper endured Thaddeus's verbal barbs, never letting the engineer see how deep they cut. He answered every insult with calm good cheer, every dismissal with a polite offer of further assistance.

It was on one such day that a particularly clarifying incident had occurred. 

As always, Jasper had made his way down to the engine room, his mind preoccupied with the latest set of repairs he needed to complete. As he entered, he paused, taking in the unusual sight before him.

Thaddeus was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a sea of machine parts and tools. It was a position Jasper had never seen him in before, and for a moment, he couldn't help but stare at the way Thaddeus's nimble fingers sorted through the various components, his sightless eyes focused on some internal schematic only he could see.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Jasper cleared his throat. "Thaddeus? I've got your dinner."

Thaddeus didn't look up, merely grunting in acknowledgment. Jasper stepped carefully through the minefield of parts, looking for a clear spot to set the tray down.

As he moved, his foot caught on a stray cable, sending him stumbling. The tray tipped, a spoon clattering to the floor and skittering towards Thaddeus.

Instinctively, Jasper reached out to grab it, just as Thaddeus's hand shot out to do the same. Their fingers collided, Jasper's hand landing on top of Thaddeus's.

The reaction was immediate and violent. Thaddeus yanked his hand back as if he'd been burned, his whole body recoiling. The spoon went flying, clattering against a far wall as Thaddeus scrambled to his feet, his face a mask of anger and something that looked almost like fear.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped, his voice tight and his body language defensive.

Jasper blinked, taken aback by the extreme response. "I... I was just trying to pick up the spoon. I didn't mean to..."

"To what? To touch me!?" Thaddeus's words were razor-sharp, laced with a bitterness that took Jasper by surprise.

"No!" Jasper exclaimed, horrified by the accusation. "I was just trying to help!"

Thaddeus laughed, the sound harsh and humorless. "Help. Right. Because that's what people like you always want to do, isn't it?"

There was a bitterness in his voice, a deep-seated resentment that spoke of old wounds. Jasper felt a pang of sympathy, his anger draining away.

"Thaddeus," he said softly, "I wasn't trying to do anything." 

"Right. Because you're just so altruistic, aren't you? I know how this works. A few kind words and suddenly you think you're entitled to more. Well, let me make this perfectly clear: I'm not interested. Not now, not ever."

Jasper felt a flush of embarrassment and anger rising in his cheeks. "That's not what this is," he said firmly. "Is it so hard to believe that I might just be a decent person trying to do my job?"

For a moment, Thaddeus seemed taken aback by Jasper's vehemence. But then his expression shuttered, his mask of cold disdain slipping back into place.

Then, Thaddeus let out a mirthless chuckle. "Decent? Please. Most of the crew would have given up on bringing me my meals by now. But I gotta say, you're more persistent than most, like a glutton for punishment."

Jasper paused, taken aback by Thaddeus's words and something clicked in his mind.

"Well, I'm not most of the crew," Jasper said firmly. "And I don't think anyone deserves to go hungry, even if they are an asshole."

Thaddeus seemed momentarily stunned by Jasper's declaration. But he quickly recovered, his face settling back into its usual scowl. "How noble of you," he sneered. "But I don't need your pity, LaBrant."

"It's not pity," Jasper insisted. "It's basic human decency. Something that seems to be in short supply around here."

Thaddeus turned away, his shoulders rigid with tension. "You have no idea," he muttered, so quietly Jasper almost didn't catch it.

Before Jasper could respond, Thaddeus was moving, brushing past him with swift, angry strides. "Just leave the tray and go," he snapped over his shoulder. "And keep your hands to yourself from now on."

Jasper watched him go, his mind reeling, Thaddeus's words having confirmed what he'd begun to suspect. And the crew, instead of trying to understand or help, had simply given up on him.

But Jasper couldn't do that. He couldn't stand by and let Thaddeus isolate himself, let him go without basic necessities like food. No matter how difficult the engineer made it.

With a resolute sigh, Jasper set the tray down and turned to leave. One thing was clear to him: Thaddeus's walls weren't just high, they were fortified and guarded with vicious thoroughness.

The following day, the engine room hummed with its usual cacophony of mechanical noises as Thaddeus worked, his fingers flying over the console with practiced precision. He'd been at it for hours, lost in the complex dance of maintaining the ship's systems, when a sudden realization hit him.

It was late. Later than usual for his evening meal to arrive.

Thaddeus paused, his hands hovering over the keys. He cocked his head, listening for the familiar sound of Jasper's footsteps, the clatter of dishes on the tray. But there was nothing, only the steady thrum of the engines.

A bitter smile twisted his lips. So, Jasper had finally given up. About time, really. Thaddeus had been wondering how long the stubborn mechanic would keep up his pointless crusade of kindness.

It was better this way, he told himself. Better for Jasper to learn the hard way that trying to get close to Thaddeus was a futile endeavor. Better for him to join the ranks of the crew who had long since written Thaddeus off as a lost cause.

Thaddeus ignored the hollow feeling in his chest, the faint pang of something that might have been disappointment. He turned back to his work, determined to bury himself in the comforting familiarity of the ship's systems.

But just as he was about to lose himself in the lines of code, a sound made him freeze. Footsteps, hurried and uneven, and the unmistakable clatter of a tray.

This food is different, Jasper lied about being caught up in the mess hall he sees Thaddeus hasn't been eating and tried to make him a meal himself which is why he was late.

"Sorry I'm late, Beaufort," Jasper's voice rang out, slightly breathless. "I got held up in the mess hall, one of the steam valves was acting up."

Thaddeus turned slowly, his sightless eyes widening in surprise. He'd been so sure...

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice coming out harsher than he'd intended.

Jasper set the tray down on the workbench, the dishes clattering softly. "Bringing your dinner….?" he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Like I do every evening?"

Thaddeus scoffed, "I thought you'd finally decided to stop wasting your time."

Jasper let out a soft, surprised laugh. "Nah, luckily I have plenty of time to spare."

Thaddeus could hear the smile in his voice, the gentle amusement. It grated on his nerves, even as some treacherous part of him warmed at the sound.

"I told you, I don't need your pity," he snapped, falling back on the familiar sharpness, the tried and true method of pushing people away.

But Jasper, as always, seemed unfazed. "And I told you, it's not pity," he said patiently. "It's just... doing what's right."

Thaddeus shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "You're a stubborn fool, LaBrant."

"Maybe," Jasper agreed easily. "But I'm a fool who's not going to let you skip meals just because you're determined to be difficult."

A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Jasper waited patiently, sensing Thaddeus was struggling with something. Finally, Thaddeus spoke, his voice deliberately cold and detached.

"LaBrant. Regarding yesterday's... incident."

Thaddeus paused again, his jaw clenching as if the words physically pained him to say.

"My reaction was... disproportionate to your actions."

Jasper nodded, his voice soft and genuine. "I understand, Thaddeus. I'll be more careful from now on."

Thaddeus shifted uncomfortably, caught between his desire to maintain his aloof persona and the unexpected warmth of Jasper's understanding.

"See that you do," he said brusquely.

Despite Thaddeus's cold tone, Jasper smiled gently. "Of course. Thank you for telling me. I know that couldn't have been easy for you."

Thaddeus stiffened. "It's a simple matter of efficiency, LaBrant. Can't have crewmates quarreling."

"Right," Jasper agreed, not pushing the issue. "Well, efficiency or not, I'm glad we cleared the air."

Thaddeus grunted noncommittally, turning back to his console. "If that's all, LaBrant, I have work to do."

With that, Jasper turned to leave, his footsteps receding towards the door. "Enjoy your dinner, Mr. Beaufort," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be back tomorrow, same time as always."

Thaddeus didn't turn around, but his voice had lost some of its edge when he replied, "Don't be late this time."

"Of course," Jasper said softly, a warm smile in his voice as he left.

Thaddeus sat frozen, listening to the sound of Jasper's departure. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the mechanic's inexplicable persistence.

For once, Thaddeus had no answers, his usual fallback now seeming almost too far-fetched.

The day after Thaddeus's grudging apology, Jasper entered the engine room with the usual dinner tray. He found Thaddeus hunched over his console, muttering to himself.

"Dinner, Mr. Beaufort," Jasper announced, setting the tray down.

Thaddeus grunted in acknowledgment, then said without turning, "LaBrant, I need you to go to the forward sensor array and check the calibration on the long-range scanners."

Jasper blinked, surprised by the request. "I could help you here in the engine room if you'd like—"

"If I wanted your help here, I'd ask for it," Thaddeus cut him off sharply. "The sensor array. Now."

Jasper sighed. "Aye."

This pattern continued throughout the week. Thaddeus sent Jasper all over the ship – to the jefferies tubes, the cargo bays, even the waste reclamation system – anywhere Thaddeus himself didn't want to go.

"LaBrant, the environmental controls on the upper deck are acting up. Go take a look."

"There's a faulty power relay in Junction 32-B. Try not to electrocute yourself while replacing it."

Despite Jasper's repeated offers to assist in the engine room, Thaddeus consistently rebuffed him.

"I'd rather trust a Ferengi with my latinum than let you tinker with my engines, LaBrant."

At first, Jasper responded to Thaddeus's barbed comments with quiet acquiescence. "Yes, Mr. Beaufort," and "Right away, sir," were his standard replies. But as days turned into weeks, something began to shift.

"Where do you want these?" Jasper asked, holding up a box as Thaddeus turned from his console.

Thaddeus frowned, his sightless eyes somehow managing to convey a depth of annoyance. "What are they?"

Jasper set the box down with a huff. "The spare couplings you requested. For the coolant system upgrade?"

"Ah." Thaddeus waved a dismissive hand. "Just put them over there, with the rest of the junk."

Jasper bristled at the implication. "Junk? These are high-grade components, Thaddeus. Do you have any idea how hard it was to requisition these?"

Thaddeus snorted. "Oh, I'm sure you had to fill out a whole two forms. How ever did you manage?"

"Three, actually," Jasper replied dryly. "Turns out, they don't just hand over valuable equipment to any idiot who asks. Though I suppose they made an exception in my case."

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least you're self-aware. That's more than I can say for most of the crew."

"Don't worry," Jasper said, his tone deadpan. "I'm well aware of my limitations. Being constantly reminded of them is just one of the perks of working with you."

"Glad to be of service," Thaddeus drawled. "Someone has to keep you lot grounded in reality."

Jasper nodded solemnly. "Of course. Heaven forbid we develop any self-esteem. It might interfere with your superiority complex."

Thaddeus's lips twitched. "I assure you, LaBrant, my sense of superiority is quite secure, regardless of your self-esteem or lack thereof."

"Well, that's a relief," Jasper replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'd hate to think my occasional moments of competence were keeping you up at night."

"Occasional is right," Thaddeus muttered. "Though I suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day."

Jasper couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, look at that. This is the longest you've ever spoken to me. I should mark this day on my calendar."

Thaddeus paused, realizing with a start that he had indeed been bantering. He'd been so caught up in the back-and-forth that he hadn't even noticed. "Don't get used to it, LaBrant," he said, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Jasper smiled. He'd expected to be unceremoniously kicked out by now. "Wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Beaufort."

Encouraged by this intereaction, Jasper began to push back more often.

It started small. When Thaddeus snapped at him for taking too long in the jefferies tubes, Jasper found himself replying, "Sorry, Mr. Beaufort. I'll try to defy the laws of physics next time and teleport instead."

When Jasper had emerged from a grueling session in the waste reclamation system, Thaddeus wrinkled his nose and said, "Well, LaBrant, I see you've finally found your natural habitat."

Without missing a beat, Jasper replied, "Just trying to find a place that matches the warmth of your personality, Mr. Beaufort."

As the weeks turned into months, Jasper noticed subtle changes in their interactions. Thaddeus's insults became less biting, more like verbal sparring than genuine criticism. He even, on rare occasions, explained the reasoning behind some of the tasks he assigned.

It was a day like any other when Jasper entered the engine room, balancing Thaddeus's dinner tray in one hand. He found the chief engineer hunched over a dismantled console, muttering curses under his breath.

"Dinner, Mr. Beaufort," Jasper announced, setting the tray down on a nearby workbench.

Thaddeus grunted in acknowledgment, not looking up from his work. Jasper waited, expecting the usual order to go check some far-flung corner of the ship. But the order didn't come.

Instead, Thaddeus straightened up, his unseeing eyes seeming to fix on a point just over Jasper's left shoulder. "LaBrant," he said, his voice gruff. "How much do you know about phase inverters?"

Jasper blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected question. "Uh, well, I know the basics. They're used to—"

"Yes, yes," Thaddeus cut him off impatiently. "But can you calibrate one?"

"I... yes, I can," Jasper replied, his confusion growing. "Why do you ask?"

Thaddeus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because this blasted console is giving me more trouble than it's worth. The phase inverter is mis-aligned, and I can't seem to..." He trailed off, seeming to wrestle with himself for a moment. Then, in a tone that suggested the words were being forcibly extracted from him, he said, "I could use an extra pair of hands."

Jasper's eyebrows shot up. Was Thaddeus Beaufort, the man who'd once said he'd trust a Ferengi with his latinum before letting Jasper touch his engines, actually asking for his help?

"Are you feeling alright, Mr. Beaufort?" Jasper couldn't resist asking. "Should I call medical?"

Thaddeus scowled. "Your wit is as sharp as ever, LaBrant. Do you want to help or not?"

"Yes, of course," Jasper said quickly, moving to join Thaddeus at the console. "What do you need me to do?"

A pause. Then, "Socket wrench. Third from the left."

Jasper scanned the cluttered bench, fingers hovering over various tools before selecting one. He placed it in Thaddeus's outstretched hand, their fingers brushing briefly.

Thaddeus worked in silence, his movements precise despite his unseeing eyes. Jasper watched, fascinated by the engineer's dexterity.

"How do you know which part to adjust?" he blurted out.

Thaddeus's hands stilled. He tilted his head, as if considering whether to answer. "Listen," he finally said.

Jasper closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds around him. The steady thrum of the engine, the hiss of steam, the subtle clicks and whirs of countless moving parts.

"Hear that high-pitched whine?" Thaddeus asked. "It shouldn't be there."

Jasper nodded, then caught himself. "Yeah, I hear it."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Thaddeus's face. "Every machine has its song. Learn to listen, and you'll know when something's off-key. Learn to distinguish the normal from the abnormal, and you can predict problems before they become critical."

Jasper nodded, then remembered that Thaddeus didn't like being addressed without a verbal response. "That makes sense," he said aloud, watching as the engineer's expression remained impassive but slightly more engaged.

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly. "When one sense is diminished, others compensate," he said, his voice still detached but with a hint of curiosity about Jasper's interest. 

As Jasper handed over another tool, he caught a glimpse of something fleeting in Thaddeus's eyes - a ghost of a smile, perhaps, or a flicker of amusement at Jasper's eagerness to learn. It was quickly extinguished, leaving behind only a neutral expression.

For the next hour, they worked side by side, Thaddeus offering terse instructions and Jasper following them as best he could. By the time they finished, Jasper's hands were grimy and his back ached, but a sense of accomplishment filled his chest.

As Thaddeus wiped his hands on a rag, Jasper noticed the tension in the engineer's shoulders had eased slightly. "Same time tomorrow?" he ventured.

Thaddeus paused, then gave a short nod. "Don't be late," he said, but the usual bite was missing from his words.

Over time, a tentative rapport began to form between the unlikely pair. Jasper found himself spending more and more time in the engine room, absorbing Thaddeus's vast knowledge like a sponge. He learned to narrate his actions, to always approach from the front, and to rely more on his own senses of touch and hearing when working alongside the young engineer.

For his part, Thaddeus remained guarded, but his explanations became more detailed, occasionally betraying a hint of passion for his work. He never explicitly mentioned his blindness, and Jasper never brought it up, but it became an unspoken understanding between them, shaping their interactions and collaborative work.

Jasper's footsteps echoed softly as he entered the engine room, the usual clamor oddly muted. The tray in his hands felt heavier than usual, laden with more than just food.The dimness of the room struck him immediately, the usual bright lights reduced to a soft, almost eerie glow.

"Thaddeus?" he called out, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the quieter space. The echo of his words bounced off the metal walls, creating an almost ethereal effect.

A muffled curse echoed through the room, followed by the clatter of tools. The sound seemed amplified in the unusual stillness. Further in, Jasper found Thaddeus knelt before an open panel, his fingers dancing across its complex innards with musical precision.

Jasper approached cautiously, setting the tray down on a nearby console. The soft clink of dishes seemed oddly intrusive in the muted atmosphere. For once, Thaddeus didn't acknowledge him, completely absorbed in his work.

The usual cacophony of the engine room had been replaced by an eerie quiet, broken only by the soft hum of machinery and Thaddeus's barely audible murmurs. Jasper found himself holding his breath, afraid to disturb the delicate atmosphere.

As he watched, Thaddeus's hands moved with a grace that seemed almost supernatural in the dim light. Each wire was coaxed into place, each connection made with unerring accuracy. It was like watching a master musician compose a symphony in real-time, the low light casting dramatic shadows that danced with each movement.

Suddenly, Thaddeus's head snapped up, his unseeing eyes somehow finding Jasper. "The resonance coupler," he said urgently, his voice echoing more than usual in the quiet room. "Second drawer, left side."

Jasper scrambled to comply, rifling through the drawer until his fingers closed around an unfamiliar device. He placed it in Thaddeus's outstretched hand, the brief contact seeming more significant in the intimate atmosphere.

With a series of swift movements, Thaddeus integrated the device into the mess of wires. A soft pulse of energy rippled through the room, and suddenly, the lights flickered back to full brightness. The abrupt change was almost jarring after the prolonged dimness.

Simultaneously, the machines around them roared back to life, their familiar cacophony filling the space once more. The sudden noise was a stark contrast to the previous quiet, making Jasper's ears ring slightly.

Thaddeus sat back on his heels, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That should do it," he said, his voice now nearly drowned out by the restored engine noise. The satisfaction in his tone was evident, even as the words were swallowed up by the renewed clamor of the fully functioning engine room.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Jasper realized he'd been holding his breath. "What... what just happened?" he asked, awe evident in his voice.

Thaddeus turned to face him, his expression more open than Jasper had ever seen it. "We just averted a cascade failure that would have knocked out power to half the ship," he explained.

"In case you don't know, that's a good thing," Thaddeus muttered, finally turning his head towards Jasper, but his eyes were fixed on some point beyond the young man's shoulder. "Now, describe what you see. Any cracks? Discoloration?"

Jasper leaned in close, his shoulder nearly touching Thaddeus's as he peered at the panel.

"Uh, no cracks," he managed, his mouth suddenly dry from being so close to Thaddeus's face. "But there's a sort of... greenish film inside the glass."

Thaddeus nodded, his expression unreadable. "Copper corrosion. We'll need to clean it thoroughly. I'll walk you through it."

For the next few hours, Jasper worked under Thaddeus's precise instructions, hyper aware of every near-touch, every approving nod that seemed to convey a sense of satisfaction and pride in Jasper's own work.

When the panel was finally reinstalled, gleaming like new, Jasper felt a warm glow of accomplishment spread through his chest... and something else he couldn't quite name.

As they finished up their work on the machine, Thaddeus walked over to his workbench, his fingers trailing along the edge of the surface as he made his way towards his tool-board. 

He felt around the familiar contours of the pegs and hooks, his hands searching.

After a moment, Thaddeus's fingers brushed against a pair of goggles, and he pulled them off the hook. He wiped them on his shirt, making sure they were free of any debris before tossing them to Jasper.

"Here," Thaddeus called out, "You might want these."

Jasper caught the goggles in mid-air, feeling a sense of surprise at Thaddeus's sudden generosity. He looked down at the goggles, turning them over in his hand.

Jasper held the goggles gratefully, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of Thaddeus acknowledging his efforts.

He looked up at Thaddeus, smiling warmly, even though he knew the gesture would be wasted. He couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards the engineer. "Thanks so much, Thaddeus."

Thaddeus nodded curtly in response, his expression neutral as usual. But asJasper's gaze lingered on him, he could have sworn he saw a faint hint of color rise to Thaddeus's cheeks - a softening of the edges that suggested a hidden warmth beneath his surface.

"Hey, Thaddeus?" Jasper asked without thinking. "Why do you wear goggles if... well, you're blind?"

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow, his expression deadpan. "Why do I wear goggles?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jasper felt a flush rise to his cheeks as he realized his mistake. He hadn't thought his question through before voicing it and now, he felt like a complete idiot.

Thaddeus's unseeing eyes seemed to bore into him, as if daring him to explain himself. Jasper opened his mouth to try and backtrack, but before he could say anything, Thaddeus spoke up.

"My eyes may not work," he said, his voice still deadpan, "but I like them better without shards of metal in them. That's why."

Jasper felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him as he realized the absurdity of his question. He looked down at his feet, trying to hide his face.

Thaddeus chuckled softly. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I've heard worse questions before."

Jasper looked up just in time to see the faint softening of Thaddeus's expression as he spoke. Thaddeus's lips curved upwards, his eyes seeming to upturn at the corners as he smiled. 

He felt his face flush hot as he stared at Thaddeus in shock, his eyes widening as he tried to process what he was seeing. He hadn't expected Thaddeus to be capable of that kind of expression, and for a moment, Jasper froze in place.

His heart began to race, pounding in his chest like a drum. He felt a sense of disorientation wash over him. What was happening? Why did he feel so…alive all of a sudden?