The next stop was four hours away. Riley had barely settled into his seat when Dash bounded back to his feet.  

“I’m starving,” he explained. “I’m gonna find the Dining car… join me? Least I can do after all this is buy you, uh--” he glanced down at his phone, “--lunch.”

Riley looked at his watch, surprised. He’d lost all track of time as they’d raced around the city; it could have been a different day, or week, for all he knew at this point. But the mention of food sent a rumble through his stomach, and he got up to follow Dash.  

Finding the Dining car wasn’t difficult, but gaining access was trickier; the attendant at the door politely informed them that they needed to have a reservation to join a seating.  

“Oh, this is all my fault!” Dash wailed, turning and grabbing Riley’s hands. If the corridors hadn’t been so narrow, Riley would have taken a step back in alarm.  

“Babe, I’m so sorry!" Dash said, clutching Riley's hands to his chest. "I was just so excited to finally be getting away just the two of us-- not that I don’t love the kids, but a romantic trip for just us-- but I totally whiffed it on the details!”

Riley shot him a bewildered look until, behind Dash, he saw the attendant's whole posture relax.  

“Oh, gosh, parent brain is so real, isn’t it?” he said sympathetically. Dash kept one of his hands wrapped around Riley’s, but with the other reached out to gently tap the attendant's arm.  

“Honestly, I literally couldn’t do it without this guy, he keeps our whole family together! Which is why I wanted to treat him to a surprise romantic trip. But you can see how he's the planner, right?" he said, and the attendant smiled knowingly. Riley seemed to be the only one completely out of the loop.

Dash leaned in a little closer to the attendant. "Look, I know we can’t get in now, but is there something later…?”

“This was the last seating until dinner,” the attendant said apologetically. He looked between the two of them, then glanced down at his book. 

“I wouldn’t generally do this, but I know how hard it is with kids… I think we can find a place for you two,” he said, waving them in.  

The attendant set them up at the farthest end of the dining car, at a tiny little half-booth for two by the exit. A server pushing his cart raised a brow, but otherwise there were no complaints and before long someone had come by to take their drink order. Riley was still staring at Dash with a bemused expression.  

“Did you figure out what you want?” Dash asked, perusing the menu. “We should be ready to order as soon as he comes back.”

“What the hell was that?” Riley finally asked. Dash glanced up curiously.  

“Well we joined late, so they probably need us to order--”

“No, I mean, with the-- that story-- us, and kids and--”

“Oh,” Dash laughed, setting his menu down. “I figured someone had to sleep through their reservation or something, and there was a chance there'd be an empty table here. I mean, I don’t know about you but I’m about ready to gnaw on the armrest, no way would I survive until dinner.”  

“But, the story--” Dash shrugged. 

“He had like, four photos of little kids taped to his stand. Didn’t you see them? It wasn’t hard to guess he might be sympathetic to other parents.”

“But you--” Riley froze as their server came back, delivering a soda for Dash and hot tea for Riley. He picked the first item he saw on the menu when asked, and soon the server had departed.  

“You came up with that story so fast,” Riley whispered. “Just like when you told that bartender I was your cousin.”

“Oh,” Dash said, his expression turning somewhat guilty. He took a fortifying sip of his drink. “Yeah, I’m, uh… I don’t know, making up stories on the spot has always come easily to me. I guess when you talk as much as I do, you do kind of notice what people do and don’t respond to…” He paused, shrugging. “But, you get it, right? I mean, you read that security guard perfectly.”

Riley opened his mouth a few times but wasn’t sure how to respond. He had done a quick assessment of the guard, whose youth suggested inexperience, the notebook full of doodles making him think she didn’t take her position terribly seriously. Pretending to be an authoritative field agent had come out of him almost as a reflex. He sat back against his seat, considering.  

“Speaking of that, who’s Adam Volk?” Dash asked. “Is that someone real, or did you just make up a name on the spot? Cause I gotta tell you, you do not give off Adam vibes.”

“He’s real,” Riley said, still a little dazed by his own behavior. “That’s who I met with this morning.  I... guess that’s why his name popped into my head.”

“Oh, so he’s a legit special agent?”

“He’s special, alright,” Riley grumbled. Their food arrived; Riley started to cut up his chicken a little more vigorously than necessary.  

“Woah, you fucking hate him, huh?” Dash said around a mouthful of french fries. Riley put his knife down.  

“I don’t hate anyone. He’s just… he gets under my skin.”

Dash took a large bite of his burger, but his gray eyes remained locked on Riley.  

“This has bad break up vibes all over,” Dash teased. Riley scowled at his asparagus.  

“I would never date Adam Volk,” he corrected. “The only happy relationship he’ll ever be in is with his mirror. But he finds plenty of other ways to screw people.”

“You seriously fucking hate him,” Dash marveled. “Riley, you are almost emoting right now, it’s wild.”

“I emote,” Riley grumbled, stabbing a piece of chicken onto his fork.  

“In your own way, or so I’m learning,” Dash conceded. “But seriously, what’s the deal? If he’s not an ex, is he a work rival? Did he steal your promotion or something?”

Riley put down his utensils and took a long, restorative sip of his tea. When he put the mug down, it was to find Dash staring intently at him.  

“Shit, he did, didn’t he?”

“Not.. exactly,” Riley admitted. “We went to the Academy together-- that’s what you have to do, part of the process to become-- to work at the Bureau. There was an incident and... I found out he couldn't be trusted. That's all I want to say about it.”

Dash pressed his lips together so hard Riley could barely even see his piercing anymore; it might have made him laugh, under other circumstances. Finally he let out a heavy breath. 

“OK, no more questions, I swear. But, considering how many strong negative emotions this Volk dude causes you, I guess I should be extra grateful you went to him for Gabriel. I’m racking up quite a debt to you.”

“You are still paying for lunch, right?” Riley replied. Dash chuckled.

“You know, I bet if you gave me an affectionate little ass grab on the way out of here, I could get us prime dinner seating.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Riley said.  

“And you’re encouraging,” Dash retorted, sticking out his tongue. Riley wasn’t sure how to reply, so he focused on his meal.  

Dash kept chattering as they ate, not needing much input to go on. Riley couldn’t help but wonder about the lack of logic that had him harring across the country to rescue a thief he barely knew, with a practiced liar at his side.  

But then, Riley Decker, convicted felon, was hardly a saint himself. Perhaps he was finally in the right company.