Before long, they reached the locker room.
Utilitarian, like everything else. Long metal benches bolted to the floor. Rows of reinforced lockers lining both sides, dull gray with numeric stencils. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and recycled water.
Their lockers were opposite each other, several rows apart.
Don set his bag down and rolled his shoulders again as he opened his. Redstar did the same on her side.
She began to strip without ceremony.
He didn't look.
He was familiar with this. The few times they'd finished together, she'd never treated the space like it required performance. He kept his eyes on his locker, on the scuffed interior, on the towel he pulled free.
"Don't you worry," he asked, tone neutral, "someday you'll find the locker rooms full?"
"Hmph!" she replied immediately. "They know not to use these ones when I'm here."
There was a brief pause. Then, curiosity edged into her voice.
"Why do you ask?" she said. "Want to keep the view for yourself?"
