One inch sideways on Alpha’s bunk and Quinlan slams face-first into the memory of Obi-Wan in the same position he’s in right now.

“Maybe,” Alpha says, and it’s not nearly steady as he thinks it is, “I should do this to all the bitchy little pirates I capture.”

“Those are some thick gloves you're wearing,” Quinlan observes, light. “And here I thought the weather was actually behaving today.”