He calls while she’s in the midst of deciding what outfit best projects the perfect balance of power and humanity for her next appearance before the cameras, and she knows perfectly what will happen if she takes the call, but she’s nothing if not perverse, and all the desperation of the political crowd on Luna makes her long for a distraction, anyhow.

Sure enough - “The white ain’t what you’re looking for, Chrissy,” he says, once their business is done but before she can get him off the line again, “but jewel tones - that’s your sweet spot right there, can’t go wrong.”

“How the fuck do you know anything about what colors a woman looks best in?” she asks, before she can think better of it and hold her stubborn tongue, but he just smiles at her - more of an honest grin than she’s ever seen from him, without any edges - and says, “trust me, you really, really don’t wanna hear about it.”