And so Tinker dozed and Benj cat-napped until the first glimmer of dawn. Benj shook himself wide-awake, and took a caffeine pill to make certain. Reaching back from the pilot's chair, he shook Tinker. "Pay for your board," he growled. "Breakfast is due."
"I'll poison you," she promised.
"There isn't anything poisonous aboard," he said, roaring with laughter.
It was more self-preservation than his threat that made Tinker prepare coffee and toast. Working with manacles on made it difficult, and she hated him for them again. She was carrying the hot coffee to the forecabin when his roar came ringing through the ship.
"Grab on! Here we go!"
The rush of the ship threw her from her feet, and the hot coffee spilled from the pot and scalded her. She screamed.
"Now what?"
"I'm burned."
"Coffee spill? Why didn't you put it down?"
"I wish I'd spilled it on your face," she snapped. "Mind taking these irons off so I can get some isopicrine for the burn?"