More silliness inspired by @the-trash-site and I's half-baked late night (or is it morning?) yaps. First time writing for ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS so don't come for me. Also, happy birthday @spicybunni! Thank you for contributing so much to the Alien tag. I hope this brings you a little bit of joy on your special day :D
Included: Ash, Bishop, David 8
Divider by the lovely @/sinisterexagerrator!
Ash
Ash doesn’t even look up from the microscope as he mutters, “It would be considered a defacement of government property.”
“And it would be fun,” You reiterate, cradling your tub of polishes in one hand and snagging a rolling chair with the other, “You’ve heard of fun before, haven’t you, Ash?”
“Only from you, my dear.”
You’re still getting used to his new name for you, and something flutters in your chest at the sound of it. You know he doesn’t really mean it in a romantic sense- he couldn’t possibly- but it still makes your cheeks heat up. You push your feelings down as best you can and sit backward in your chair, scooting forward to perch your little box of supplies on an unclaimed corner of the android’s worktable.
“Come on,” You urge, “Your nails are organic, anyway. I can just take it off before we get home.”
Ash sighs softly through his nose, leaning back in his chair to look at you. As he takes in your relaxed form, uniform discarded in favor of comfortable clothes, something urges him to oblige you. Something akin to jealousy coils in the back of his mind, a dark, inky thing that he has no control over. Suddenly, he wants to observe you- to be on the receiving end of the affection you so casually bestow on the other crew members. And so, he feigns disinterest as he hooks the edge of the bin with one finger and drags it toward himself.
“You will help me remove this before we go into hibernation, of course.”
You nod excitedly, draping your arms over the back of the chair and letting your chin rest on them as Ash picks through the bin. The android can’t find the plain, clear lacquer that his databanks tell him most people use to protect their nails- all of your clear polishes are contaminated with various glitters and pearlescent add-ins. But, isn’t that just what he’d expected of you?
Ash settles for the least offensive option- a clearish pearlescent lacquer that almost matches the flesh on his hand- and gracefully plucks it out of the bin. You hold your hand out flat, expecting him to drop the bottle into it, but Ash gently sets it in your palm and unfurls his hand until it completely covers yours. His fingers trail over your palm and down yours, featherlight, and you swallow hard at the contact.
Your hands shake minutely as you unscrew the lid and reach for Ash. Jesus, why are you so nervous? The android notes the sudden spike in your temperature and heart rate at his touch, and that oily presence in his mind preens at the effect that he’s having on you. You hold the bottle and Ash’s hand in one hand and wield the brush with the other, and the android returns to his microscope. Thankfully, your hands steady once you lose yourself in your task. You run into an issue when you realize there’s no room for your chair on the other side of the scope, but Ash just sweeps some paperwork aside and pats the countertop with one hand without looking away from his samples. You plant yourself there and take his unpainted hand in yours, hunching over to see it better in the lamplight.
Ash observes you in his periphery, samples momentarily abandoned in favor of noting the curve of your spine, the delicate way that you maneuver his fingers, the crease of concentration between your brows as you try not to paint his skin with the polish. He decides then and there that he likes it. He wants more of this casual affection- more of your time- more of you. He wants you to keep touching him. He needs you to continue to banter with him and spend time with him instead of wasting your efforts on the crew. As he pushes his hand forward in your grasp and listens to your soft inhale at the first brush of his fingers against your inner wrist, Ash decides that he’s going to keep you for himself.
Bishop
Hudson lets out a dramatic "Ooooooh!" from somewhere behind you, quickly joined by Vasquez and Drake. You turn in your seat to glare at them and find yourself face to face with the front of a familiar blue uniform instead. Your eyes trail upward to see Bishop’s passive face peering down at you. His voice is soft and mildly curious as he asks, “What’s all this?”
“You could also try saying hello, while you’re at it.” You snort, turning back to the task at hand.
“Hello, then.”
You feel the android’s fingers against your back as he plants his hands on the back of your chair and looks over the top of your head at your freshly-dried nails. You wave your hands a few times to get some airflow over them before carefully checking each one with the pad of your middle finger.
“Don’t we have pens for that sort of thing?” Bishop inquires, voice tinged with confusion.
“Yeah, but it kinda ruins the experience.”
“What experience?”
Bishop skirts around you and plants himself next to you on the cafeteria bench, one leg on either side of it so he can face you. Without asking, he takes one of your hands in both of his and inspects your work.
“Does it take very long?”
“Uh, no,” You sputter, trying and failing to hide the shakiness in your hand as Bishop simply holds it and stares at, “Why- you want yours done, too?”
It’s meant to be a joke- you even laugh a little on the delivery to make it obvious to the android, but Bishop’s face is solemn and serious as he looks up at you through his lashes and murmurs a firm, “Yes.”
To say that you’re shocked would be an understatement. You stare at Bishop with a slack expression, and the android’s brow furrows in slight concern, “You alright?”
“Oh, yeah!” You chirp, swallowing hard as you try to regain some composure, “What, uh, what color do you want?”
Bishop shrugs, one corner of his mouth twitching into a ghost of a smile, “You choose.”
He lets go of your hand to allow you to sift through your things, and you let out a little triumphant sound when you find a shade of blue that closely matches his uniform. He gives a tiny nod of approval when you show him the bottle and eagerly holds out a hand for you to start with. You debate using a nail file on him, but what’s the point when his nails are engineered to be almost perfect, anyway? He sits perfectly for the entire process, only shifting once to fold one of his legs up onto the bench, and watches closely as the brush passes over his nails.
“It’s cold.” He murmurs, eyes flicking upward to meet yours for a moment.
“Sorry.”
“Just an observation.”
As you put the last of the color on him, you groan in realization, “Dammit- I could’ve been using the UV lamp from the lab this whole time!”
You let go of Bishop’s left hand and he holds it in the air at the same height as his right, perfectly still. You stand and mutter, “I’ll go get it, hang on-” and make it about two feet from the table when Bishop calls your name.
“I’d much rather do this the old-fashioned way,” He quietly requests, eyes wide and trusting as you turn to look at him, “Please, take a seat.”
You do your best to ignore the Marines' hooting and hollering as you breathe, “Alright,” and reclaim your spot next to the android. And it might be your imagination, but he seems to perk up at the promise of keeping your company for a little while longer.
David 8
When you set your supplies on the break room table and start to sift through your bottles of polish, the last thing you expect is to see a familiar head of blond hair peering over your shoulder. You jump at the intrusion, one hand instinctively shooting up to cover your heart.
“Jesus, David-”
“You’re usually in the botany lab by 15:37. It’s now 15:45,” The android calmly interrupts, “What are you doing?”
“My nails,” You breathe, body relaxing as the adrenaline wears off, “Want me to do yours?”
“Why?” He murmurs, breath ruffling the hair at your temple as he leans forward to note the myriad of colors before you, “It serves no function.”
“Why do you bleach your hair?” You quip, turning your head to look at him and feeling butterflies as you take in how close to you he really is.
His eyes flick upward to meet yours as he purrs, “Touché,” lips twitching into the faintest approximation of a smile. David notes the way that your eyes dart to his lips, your pupils dilating minutely, and feels a deep satisfaction thrumming in his circuitry. Oh, how he loves your reactions- all of your little tells that give away your attraction to him. He’s studied and logged them all. Now, knowing that you want this kind of attention, it’s even more rewarding to experiment with more overt gestures like this. He lingers in your space for a moment too long before he steps around you to take a seat to your right.
“However,” David continues, seemingly unaffected by the moment you just shared, “I believe I would enjoy doing yours for you.”
Did he really just offer? He’s programmed to serve, sure, but not to help with mundane shit like this. Unless…
David’s blue eyes bore into yours, patient as ever, and he lets out a patronising little tsk as he leans forward and gently pushes your jaw upward to close your mouth. He pointedly ignores the color rising on your cheeks, choosing instead to turn to your array of bottles and murmur, “May I?”
Your brain finally catches up with you. You nod and watch with rapt attention as David sets aside three completely different colors and stands to grab something from one of the cabinets across from you. He returns with a shot glass and begins pouring different ratios of each color into it. It mixes into something you’d never consider putting on yourself, and you open your mouth to say as much, but David cuts you off by holding his hand out for yours.
“It compliments the undertones in your pretty skin,” David purrs, something vaguely like mirth shining in his eyes, “If you please…?”
Pretty? Since when did Wey-Yu allow these kinds of interactions? Your stomach flips nervously when you look back on previous encounters with David and once again conclude that this is part of whatever personality the android is developing- he’s choosing to talk to you like this. Something about his tone feels more like a command than a question, but his compliment stuns you into complying. You let him take your hand and find yourself enjoying the attention as David manipulates your fingers, careful not to smudge them as he works. When he’s finished, he makes a point of putting all of your supplies back into the carrier, but when you stand up to return to your quarters, he stops you with a gentle hand around your wrist. The android lifts your hand toward his face to inspect his work, breath warm as it breezes between your fingers. You tense when his lips brush the back of your hand and stretch into a smile that’s a little too sharp at the edges, his eyes meeting yours over the tops of your fingers as he murmurs, “Beautiful.”
context of the last one is that you are in a relationship with Ash and bring him to Cyberdyne to get a repair, but all the other A/2s glean off his memories and demeanor of fragility and gentleness around you, an abnormality, and when they see you kiss him they decide they'd also like a kiss
Pairing: Ash x gn! reader
Summary: Your crush on Ash is obvious to everyone on the Nostromo. But with the few days remaining till hibernation for the journey to Earth. You thought your feelings for Ash will remain unspoken. Until Ash decides to do something about it
Tags: set before events of the movies?, slow burn vibes, will they won't they vibes, confessing feelings, reader constantly worrying if Ash likes them or not, gender natural reader, use of they/them pronouns nick names use 'dear',
Warnings: yandere vibes/Ash being creepy, he takes notes of eating habits?, honestly nothing much, Ripley ready to defend your honour and throw hands? , taking creative liberties with the ship
Word count: 7,9k
A/N: This fic feels more like a collaboration as I use ideas and scenes written while chatting with @bonsoir-oiseau, Thank you so much for cheering me on, helping me and just chatting about this silly little babygirl. I hope I have done justice to all the ideas we talk about/ little blurs we wrote and with writing Ash!
header by @cursed-carmine
The crew of the Nostromo are in high spirits as they make preparations. In the next couple of days, they will enter hibernation and arrive back home on Earth. Excitement for trading cramped spaces for blue skies, recycled oxygen for fresh winds and most importantly, finally earning the shares they signed onto for. Each member of the Nostromo is counting the hours till they lock themselves into the cryo chambers.
Except for you, as the closer it gets to hibernation, the more your stomach churns. Mixed feelings leave you in a near state of paralysis, the cause for it all, Science Officer Ash.
Your crush.
You're not sure when these feelings developed or what compels you to feel this way around him. Being completely hopelessly head over heels to the point where you stare dreamily at him like a teenager experiencing their first crush. Leaping up to volunteer for any task he needs assistance with, and overall acting like a foolish love-sick puppy.
What's worse is that despite your best efforts, your crush on Ash is a secret to no one aboard the Nostromo. The amount of times hands were waved in front of your face for staring or teasing words being thrown your way as you eagerly follow Ash to help him. All of it would make you duck your head as a hot flush covers your cheeks.
With the day of arriving home becoming nearer, the worry of not seeing Ash has begun to plague you. You never considered confessing your feelings to Ash before, as you're certain that he only sees you as his co-worker. Since he never seems to address your crush or any remarks made on it.
To confess now would only result in a flat-out rejection. Arriving on earth with a shattered pride and broken heart. But with the days becoming fewer, it might be your only chance. If by some miracle, Ash does return your feelings. Then the possibility of starting something new on Earth might be worth the risk of finally gathering that strength to look Ash in the eyes and say, 'I love–'
Your thoughts are interrupted as your head bumps into something soft. Enough not to cause any pain, yet startling enough that it has you bending your knees to duck drastically in fear of the foreign object.
"You must pay attention to your surroundings, " Ash gently scolds you, sighing your name like a disappointed dad, "Are you alright?"
Looking up, you see that Ash has placed his hand on the overhead cupboards. That surely would have hurt if you had hit that. Slowly standing up, you take in that Ash has come up behind you to place his hand in front. Somewhat caging you in between himself and the table. Lingering thoughts cause your eyes to glance at his lips; all you have to do is give in to the impulsive thoughts, lean into him to see how they feel against yours.
At this point, it feels like the man has skillfully mastered the art of making it impossible to think.
"Just lost in thought," You cringe at how shakily your voice came across as you force your eyes to meet his.
Ash lets out a displeased hum. He appears to be lost in thought for a moment. You're not sure how he isn't affected by the little space in between. He looks perfectly calm and at ease, while you feel your heart racing from how embarrassed you are at not noticing Ash's footsteps. You could have sworn that Ash was standing on the other side of the room. You never considered yourself a clumsy person before, yet after meeting Ash and all the times he saved you. Ranging from stubbing your toe or hitting your hip on the corner of tables, it's made you consider yourself a caution hazard, making you aware of how often the occasion occurs.
"It has been nearly five hours since you last ate. Perhaps a break is in order." There's no room for argument in his words as he drops his arm down. You let out a soft sigh as Ash takes a step back. Another thing Ash has picked up on during the journey is your eating habits. You're not sure why he pays so much attention, blaming it on the close quarters and long work hours. It's only natural you pick up on others' habits, yet Ash takes it a step further.
Reminding you to take breaks to eat or drink water after many hours in the lab. During late-night fantasies, you wonder if this is Ash taking care of you with romantic intentions. Preventing you from burnt-out or getting sick. When you wake up, you're quick to dismiss the idea. Telling yourself that Ash is the Science Office and the make-shift medic on board, that he's only helping a co-worker.
"Oh! Yeah! G-good idea." You stutter, staring wide-eyed at the floor as you're quick to follow his advice. Breathing a little easier as you walk towards the door and away from Ash. Your skin tingles from the phantom sensation of how close he was.
"Are you coming too?" You hesitate at the door, turning to Ash.
"No, I need to get some things in order. Go ahead." Ash dismisses, giving you a friendly smile. You nod in return and walk out of the lab, "And eat something filling! Not that snack you like!" His voice carries behind you. Your shoulders tense. How does he know you so well? It sends you heart racing at the possibility of him thinking more of you, but the parental scolding nature has you cringing at your habits.
Later that same day, well, you can only presume it's the same day. As there's no real sense of one day and the next. Only having your internal clock and Ash counting the hours to rely on. You find yourself sitting in front of a monitor in the lab. You're determined to complete the few files left to process on the computer; however, another yawn cuts you off from your work. Your actions are slow and sluggish as you bring a hand to rub your eyes.
Everything is coming together, you overheard plans for a last poker night being made all to celebrate the approaching of home. While hearing those plans should make you excited, your stomach ties itself in knots. You still haven't decided if you'll take the leap and confess to Ash.
Stuck between the thought of it being too little too late and the knowledge that it could haunt you if you do nothing. Those thoughts don't help with deciding, and with a frustrated sigh at your indecisiveness, you lean back into your chair as the screen loads the next file, planning on pushing it all away.
"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Ash's voice suddenly startles you as his hands grasp your shoulder.
"Shit," your heart leaps out of your chest. You try to lean forward out of fright, but Ash's hands firmly guide you back to the chair. Looking up to confirm that it is Ash that spooks you, you relax fully into the chair. Taking note of how Ash's hands ease their grip.
"You've been zoning out more than usual. Should I perform a medical check?" Ash asks with a half smile. Your eyes widen a fraction; butterflies storming in your stomach as Ash looks down at you with a gleam in his eyes. Does he know? He must know about your stupid, pathetic crush on him. Everyone knows. Is this your chance? Is the universe so exhausted of your pinning over Ash, it's laying out the groundwork for you.
"Har har, very funny," You huff at Ash and look away from him. Gasping softly as his hands begin to gently rub, thumb digging into sore muscles from hunching over, that have you sighing in relief.
"So, what is the cause for your unusual zoning out?" Ash brings the subject back.
"Just thinking," you reply tensely, beginning to feel nauseous at the idea of confessing takes root, becomes more real. He's not letting the subject go; all you have to do is say something.
"I would hope. Anything interesting?" Ash leans foward, appearing at your side. Staring up wide-eyed, the distance between you reduces significantly. If Ash wanted to, he could reach out with his arms and bring you into an embrace. Or if you wanted, you could lean forward and claim that kiss you long for.
All you have to say is 'him'. His name. A simple answer to end this torment of wanting, but doesn't Ash deserve more of a romantic answer? Then how can you describe if he wanted to dissect your heart, you gladly let him. He's staring and you realise you haven't answered for a while. If you don't answer now, things will be awkward. Your hands tremble as you struggle to pick. Can you just lean forward instead–
The computer's soft beeps bring you out of your thoughts like a timer signalling the end.
"Of- of home." You turn away to look at the screen, falling into the safety of denying. Of saving your heart from possible pain by not exposing it. Leaning forward in your chair to type on the keyboard, gently pulling out of Ash's grip, the loud mechanical clicks of the button do well to drown out the sound of Ash's heavy sigh.
"I think you've done enough work. This can all wait until tomorrow." Ash's voice cuts through, standing upright behind you as his hands return to your shoulder to pry you away from the screen again. Feeling more firm than his gentle touches.
"I'm nearly finished, Ash–"
"I insist," he says, squeezing your shoulders. His tone is final, and you know from experience he'll just argue with every point you have. From silly whines to half ass reasoning, Ash will find and analyse your flawed logic until you give in.
"I-" you cut yourself off as you look towards Ash. That gleam in his eyes is gone, and he returns to a neutral expression. "Okay." You nod, as all the energy to argue fades quickly. Leaving your station as it is, knowing you'll return first thing when you wake up.
You follow behind Ash, letting him escort you through the halls silently. Either following behind him or next to him, if the halls are large enough. Hands brushing occasionally, and each time you feel more ashamed for not taking your chance. Eventually, you reach your quarters, where Ash wishes you a goodnight and waits till your door closes to leave.
"I'm surprised he isn't here yet," you lift your head from your breakfast to look at Brett, sitting on the opposite side of the table. "Ash," Brett clarified as he took notice of your confusion. Nodding to the free space beside you, eyeing it enticingly as he took another spoonful of his food.
"Are you two together?" Parker asks, jumping into the conversation. Brett raises his now-empty spoon and points at you in agreement with Parker, looking intrigued at the answer as he chews his food. You snort at the question and continue eating as you try to ignore them.
"Give up, that bet is long over." Kane groans towards the two.
"What bet?" you snap your neck towards Kane.
"Alright, guys, knock it off," Dallas waves his hand that holds a cigarette as you begin to stare wide-eyed at each of the members, which currently excludes Ripley and Ash, hoping one will take pity and spill the details to you. Instead, all you earn is a giggle from Lambert. The table settles soon after, and you have to accept the mysterious knowledge that a bet was made about you and Ash.
"What are you doing, man?!" Brett suddenly raised his voice, followed by complaints from Kane, who was sitting on Parker's other side. As Parker climbs onto the backrest to swing his legs over. More confused chattering follows as you watch Parker walk around the seats.
"Come on, man, what are you doing sitting over there?" Kane whines.
"Wha? I'm not allowed or somethin'?" Parker scoffs, lightly mocking the known unofficial rule that the seat beside you is reserved for Ash. Which goes vice versa, where the seat beside Ash is reserved for you. He reaches around and throws himself into the free space. He makes a show of rubbing his back into the seat, letting out dramatic sighs of comfort as he settles down. "It is nicer over here."
After a beat of sitting comfortably, his comment earning chuckles around the table, Parker shifts his body to face you. "Now, seriously, you two?" Parker asks, throwing an arm over the back of the seatrest behind you.
"We're just friends," you shake your head in annoyance, making a show of returning to your meal.
"That's a shitty lie." "Right," Your eyes meet Dallas briefly as you let out a disbelief scoff at Parker and Brett's comments. Noticing him observing the scene, you give Dallas a small smile. It's not the first time the engineer duo has tried to interrogate you about Ash. With new knowledge, it starts to make sense why they kept asking.
"We're close."
"Like sharing beds close?"
"Parker! Cut it out!" Dallas immediately jumps in to defend, raising his voice from his spot across the table. "Just asking," Parker mutters, bringing his arm off the chair rest. It seems that's where the conversation will end, as Parker appears ready to stand from the seat. You don't want your final breakfast to end so awkwardly; you find your voice.
"No, not that kind," you answer, avoiding Parker's eyes, who immediately leans back into his seat. Feeling the stare of everyone, your gaze fixates on your cup that you idly fidget with, "'We're the…'making sure the other eats,' type close? Checking in with each other."
"What the fuck? Why don't Brett and I get checks in? You know how long we work and how many meals we missed down in the lower deck?" Parker moans, turning his attention towards Dallas. Brett nods his head in agreement, "Where's our check-in, huh?"
"Maybe if you didn't whine all the time, Ash would check on you, too," Dallas remarks. He appears in better spirits as he drinks his coffee. You take a deep breath, easing into your seat as Parker and Brett defend their whining, explaining how tough their jobs on the lower deck are.
"Be real," Kane cuts through, gaining the group's attention and holding the reins of the topic, "Ash is only checking on them. And don't say it's something friends do!" Kanes turns to you.
"It is what friends do" You try to brush it off, only to earn moans in pain from each of the crew. Even Dallas is shaking his head, baffled by your words. At the centre of attention of their misery, you try to hide behind your cup as you take a sip.
"What's going on?" At the sound of a new voice, you turn your head to see Ripley enter the room, her hair dripping wet; there's already a wet patch trailing the back of her shirt.
"We're talking about how delusional they are," Kane explains, and Lambert is quick to recap Ripley on the latest details. Ripley passively listens as she approaches the table and focuses on making herself a cup of coffee, until certain details capture her attention.
"Tell me you're joking," Ripley stares at you, placing her coffee mug down on the table with a thud. Her intense glare has you slouch into the chair, trying to slink under the table to avoid her disapproval as you half heartily shrug, confirming the news. "Un-fucking-belivable," she mutters.
"Lay off, Ripley," Dallas dismissed.
"No, I won't lay off. It's creepy, is what it is–"
"It's fine," you reassure Ripley.
“Like hell it is.”
“Ripley, let it go.” Dallas firmly warns, causing Ripley to huff into her coffee cup. Dallas takes a drag from his cig as he turns to you. "You know you only have today left to confess, right?" Dallas explains.
Your eyes widened, feeling like a deer in headlights at the bold claim. The table erupted in childish 'ooo's at Dallas words, yet the conversation came to an abrupt end as Ash entered the room. Walking out of the hallway that leads to Mother.
Anticipation grows within the group as every pair of eyes follows Ash walking towards Parker. "You're in my seat," Ash points out to Parker.
"Oh, yeah. I am. You think we can switch it?" Parker fakes an innocent tone. Another round of chuckles at the question has you rolling your eyes in good humour, pushing Dallas's comment out of your head.
"No," Ash softly shakes his head. At the simple answer, the group erupts in laughter. "Ah, right, sorry," Parker sarcastically apologises as he stands up, and he throws a wink towards you. Without missing a beat, Ash takes his place and sits comfortably next to you. Falling into familiar patterns, reaching for his bowl as he pours his choice of cereal.
"Can't keep the Wonder Twins apart for too long or they'll start dying," you fantily hear Parker mumble to Brett as he settles back into his original seat. You duck your head at the comment as you pass Ash the milk.
The crew fall silent as Dallas stands up to address them, explaining the final task, checking in to see how far along the preparations are. With the few tasks left, the crew quickly shifted their plans to celebrity and dinner.
"Ready to go?" Ash softly whispers, leaning close for his breath to hit your ear.
"Ye-yeah." you stutter, following eagerly behind him towards the lab.
Entering the lab with the intention of double-checking everything is done and then getting the equipment all tidy and secure. You find yourself zoning out again; this time, it's Dallas voice that make it hard to focus.
"You know you only have today left to confess, right?"
It's been a few days since that night of nearly confessing to Ash. You spent the night in your bed, turning and tossing, thinking how you blew it. But after breakfast, you have to acknowledge the truth in his words. It is your last chance to confess, and Ash's actions don't seem all that platonic. Maybe there is a chance he does return your feelings.
There's no other way of knowing unless doing, so you take a deep breath as you find the confidence to go for it. With your heartbeat ringing in your ears and a surge of adrenaline through your veins, you turn away from your station in the lab to walk towards Ash, who's standing on the opposite side.
When disaster struck.
You're honestly not sure how you did it. You vaguely remember bumping into him, or was it the table? As your mind was clouded with a nervous haze, unable to notice Ash handling the medical scalpel, placing them in sterile packets to be sterilised in the ship's autoclave, until it was too late. Ash mishandled the scalpel and sliced his finger. All thoughts of confessing are out the window as panic and embarrassment clear your mind.
"I'm so sorry, Ash!" You're quick to apologise in horror at the scene. You feel stuck in place and hesitate to reach out. Mind reeling to pick what to do first.
"It's alright, accidents happen," Ash explains strainedly, his other hand quick to place pressure on the finger. Covering it from your view.
Wanting to do right, your mind finally gets into gear. You swiftly grab the first aid. "That's not necessary-" Ash tries to dissuade you when he sees the bag in your hands.
"You cut your hand! I'm so sorry, let me–" you ignore his attempts as you place the kit onto the table, reaching out to gather his hands. Firmly removing the hand covering the injury.
"It's alright–"
"No, it's not alright! Let me see it! Come on, Ash, what are you afraid–… an android?" Your tense tease to ease the situation drops as the slow realisation that the droplet running down his finger isn't blood but milk.
Ash sighs heavily as he accepts defeat, remaining still in your hands and fixed on your expression. Your nervous smile drops slowly as you lift your gaze towards Ash. He seems impatient or amused; you honestly can't tell. Can't even concentrate on the situation. How do you even respond to such earth-shattering news? It feels aburrt, surreal, asking your coworker, friend, crush– for months if they're not what they seem.
"It would appear so", Ash pokes fun at the situation. You don't answer for a beat. Letting the silence wash over as your skin crawls with anxiety, you feel a need to run out of the room and play the whole thing off.
"It-it's okay! It doesn't change," you word vomit to Ash, a nervous energy telling your brain to ‘go, go, go!’. To brush away the strange reveal as quickly as possible. You reach for the kit, as your mouth runs, saying whatever comes to mind. "Doesn't change anything. I mean! It does, but um, I won't tell anyone!"
"You won't?" Ash sounds doubtful about your words. You can't blame him, as you're seconds away from a nervous breakdown, you're not sure if you want to cry about hurting your crush or your crush being an android. His face perfectly neutral, except for the small smile, God, you wish you could read his microexpression because what is he smiling about?!
"Not another soul! Promise! You can trust me!" you rush to reassure, smiling weakly as your hands tremble with the simple bandaid. It takes effort to still your hands enough to wrap it around the small cut. Smoothing the band-aid over, it feels silly to even continue this action. How does he repair his skin? Is it the same as real skin or near identical? Was that a dumb question to ask? Your heart is racing, hands lingering on Ash as you're done, unsure of what to do.
"I always could," your head snaps from his finger to meet his eyes. Ash is nodding slowly, sounding as if he's talking to himself. You don't have time to read into it or the look he's giving you. He places his non-injured hand on top of your trembling hand, his look shifting to stern, "You must keep it to yourself. Not a word about this to anyone."
You frantically nod your head.
"Thank you, my dear."
"No problem." You shrug your shoulders, and with the air clearing up, you're quick to remove yourself from the situation.
You detach your hands and immediately pack up the kit. You swiftly place the kit away, making sure it's secure and move towards the computer, staring at it as you pretend to be lost in work. Doing everything and anything to distract yourself and calm your racing heart. Remaining in silence until Ash steps out, softly explaining he's entering the medical wing to return the scalpel. Once he leaves, you let out a deep sigh and slump into your chair.
You find yourself dissociating, staring numbly into a wall, unable to process what happened and the rollercoaster of emotions. You know you have to address the new information with Ash, ask the important questions like why he kept it a secret. Yet you’re struggling to even process whether this changes your feelings towards him.
Once you calm yourself, you check the time. You've already completed all of your tasks before hibernation; it's mostly engineering and navigation that need to be ensured the ship is ready and will continue the journey safely.
All that's truly left is the mundane task of securing the equipment. This has you on your way to the medical wing, where you meet up with Kane and Lambert along the way. It seems navigation is all sorted and done as Lambert decides to follow, making Kane join too.
You make it to your destination, entering the room where you shyly nod at Ash while Kane and Lambert share some pleasantries. Walking towards a section of the room you're most familiar with. You reach for a drawer of medical supplies that have unofficially become yours due to your frequent use of them during the trip.
You stare down at the open drawer, your hand still gripping the handle tightly as you look over the shiny tools. It's your dissection kit, from all the different forceps types down to your pen light, all neatly organised. The same pair you've been using throughout the journey.
It seems someone has beaten you to the punch of securing them in place. But you stare in awe at the tools because they appear polished. Looking brand new polish. Curious, you open the drawer under, not bothering to close the first, in your state of shock, to see neatly stacked tools in sterile packaging. Again, the equipment looks polished.
"Since when did you get new dissection tools?" Lambert appears beside you, looking over your shoulder in disbelief, forcing the first draw open again. "What?" Kane's voice peaks up as he walks to lean on your other side. He lets out an impressed whistle at the sight.
"I didn't." You answer, causing Lambert to stare at you in disbelief. "I think someone cleaned them." You trail off, unsure of who would put the effort into it.
"Who would do that?" Kane questions.
"I did," Ash answered from across the room, focused on his task of doing a final stock take. Apparently, he can multitask.
"Figures," Kane snorts in amusement at the answer. You pay him no mind as you stare at Ash, "Why?"
Ash pauses his tasks to give you his whole attention. "You seemed," Ash deliberately paused briefly to emphasise his next word, "distracted earlier in the lab, so I took the liberty of cleaning your tools for you."
Your throat tightens; there's absolutely no reason to get emotional over this. It's a hemostat forcep for Christ's sakes. Yet that's the effect that Ash has over you. It's annoying and unfair how easily his simple gesture brings about your ruin. Not even what you learnt moments before can shake that. Maybe you still aren’t sure.
"Th-thank you, Ash. That's very thoughtful of you. I appreciate it."You beam at the android, God, it feels strange to acknowledge that, your voice coming out shaky as you try to compose yourself. The smile Ash gives you makes your heart race. You want to damn him to hell for making you feel this out of control. Shake his shoulders and ask point-blankly if he likes you too.
"Can you guys not flirt in front of us?" Kanes cuts in, and you want to crawl into a hole and die at the attention. "Oh, leave them be!" Lambert is swift to reach behind you to smack Kane.
"If there's nothing for you here to do, you're free to go." Ash dismisses Kane and Lambert as he turns back to his task. The two shrug and move to leave, sharing some whisper that you choose to ignore. With your task already done, you slowly close the drawers, still taken aback by the thoughtfulness. You follow behind the two, yet at the sound of your name, you turn towards Ash.
"I could still use your help," Ash explains. You nod and wave goodbye to the others as the door closes behind them. You walk toward Ash, following his simple instruction to tie some of the microscopes into place. Completing the task with an out-of-body feeling.
Once everything was done, you and Ash walked toward the door in silence. That nervous energy returns, this time screaming at your brain to ‘run!’. Not out of fear of Ash, of him being an Android. Simply because you don’t know how to be around him anymore.
"Careful!" Ash turns and is unnaturally quick to place his hand between your shoulder and the doorframe, dulling the impact you were too lost in thought to prevent. You feel that familiar rush of panic for possibly hurting Ash.
"Sorry!" you exclaim, immediately reaching forward to cradle his hand, rubbing softly on the back of his hand to ease the pain.
"There's no need for you to concern yourself," Ash chuckles at the act, "as I do not have pain receptors like you do." Your hand pauses as you stare at Ash, brain buffering as you process the new reality.
"So...you don't feel this?" you ask dumbly, trying to refer to the pain he should feel if he were human. But Ash chuckles as he squeezes your hand.
"I very much do feel your hand, dearest."
"That wasn't what I meant," you explain, feeling flustered as you duck your head. Face flushed at the nickname, you let go of Ash's hands, feeling foolish at the action, foolish to run towards him, just foolish, foolish, foolish.
"I know," Ash softly smiles. "Shall we head to the lounge?"
"You go ahead, I have something to do," you reassure as you walk in the opposite direction. Not waiting for his response before you leave.
You find yourself hanging around the bridge to avoid Ash. Ripley is nearby doing some last checks. It won’t be long till Parker and Brett are done too, then dinner will be served or poke night. You don’t remember what order the group decided as you press your face into your hands. ‘Dearest’ is playing on loop in your head. It sounded so soft and tender coming from him. He didn't have to do any of those things. He chose to clean your equipment and bring it to its former glory of looking brand new. He didn’t have to place his hand in front to protect your shoulder. But he did. He did all of it for you.
It brings you back to your internal burden. Your crush and the possibility of confessing. Can Ash even date anyone? He's technically company property. You feel guilty at the thought, even as you try to think logically of the topic. Taking away Ash's free will felt wrong. You're not sure how you and Ash can overcome that– being a part of the company when returning home. Where will Ash go?
You try to reflect on the situation, wondering briefly if Ash can return your feelings as you come to the haunting conclusion that no, your feelings for Ash haven’t changed because he's an android. You still care deeply for him. But the fear of rejection and the dynamic shift have caused you to reconsider confessing. Again.
The sound of your name has you lifting your head to see Ash, a soft smile on his face, as his hip leans against the desk you're sitting at, as he nods towards the door. Standing closer than you're ready for. "It's been approximately seven hours since we last ate. We should go now before-"
"I already did!" You exclaimed, leaning away into your seat. "I've already eaten."
"You have?" Ash seems surprised, eyes darting at the space you create, but perfectly neutral.
"Yeah, I ate some. When I went by– to talk to Dallas! I made sure to grab something to eat." You nod, curling back into the seat as you lie terribly.
With nothing to add, Ash nods his head. Logically, you know he isn't upset and physically, he looks perfectly at ease. Brows relax, lips purse as he turns to leave the way he came. Perhaps it's the human in you to project an emotion, your own anxieties, but you believe you sense that he's disappointed by your answer.
"B-but! I um," you hastily grab his wrist. Letting go as quickly as you did once spotting the back of Ripley's head. Unsure if she’s spying or not. "I appreciate you checking in on me. Th-thanks!"
Ash relaxes and nods. He pauses for a moment, as if waiting for you to speak up again, to add to the stiff moment. With nothing said, he nods a final time and walks out of the bridge. You turn back to the desk, eyes wide at catching Ripley staring at you. So, she was spying.
"How much of that did you hear?"
"All of it," she grunts as she gets up to close the space between you, sitting in the seat across from you, " you weren't kidding about checking on eating. It's been seven hours? Does he track every meal?"
"Well, yeah?" You shrug.
"He's been doing that the whole trip?"
"…yeah?"
"God, you don't even see what's wrong with that, do you?" Ripley threw her hands in the air with frustration. Standing up from her seat, she chose to lean against a console opposite.
"…no? There's nothing wrong with it. It's- it's endearing." You weakly defend, unable to meet her eyes.
"Endearing," she snorts at the word," if it's so endearing, why didn't you go within him?"
You fall silent as you're unsure how to answer Ripley. It's the safest answer as you can't exactly tell her the truth. What else are you meant to say? ‘Hey, do you happen to know if androids can fall in love? Totally unrelated and has nothing to do with Ash, oh and how are you?’
"Something did happen!" she gasped at the realisation, standing up straight as she clenched her fist, appearing ready to deck Ash with the first chance she gets, " You tell me right now what that creep did and I have him seized and locked-"
"Nothing happened! Just–Please, just drop it." Your defeated tone has Ripley loosen her hands. A beat of silence as the bridge's many consoles hum softly.
"He's playing you, you know that."
"What?" you look up, not expecting the sudden tone shift, at how solemn she sounds. At the claim she’s making. Ash is playing with you?
“If you like someone, you should just say it,” Ripley explains with a firm tone. It feels like she's scolding you, and with everything, that's the last thing you need. "It's hard-" you try to defend, but Ripley cuts in. Taking away all the fight in you with her words."Not you, him. If he likes you, go through all that effort and shit –I heard about the tools from Lambert earlier– I wish I didn't, "Ripley scoffs, "If he goes through all this, he would have said something by now."
You blink stupidly as Ripley single-handedly provided you with the answer you were scared to conclude. Effectively rocking your shit up. "Oh, yeah, right.”
"If he does anything, you let me know and I'll let him have it!" Ripley nods as she pats your shoulder, noticing the daze look, as she gets up to leave the bridge.
It circles back to your original thought that Ash only sees you as a co-worker. Able to entertain the thought of Ash returning your feelings because of his sweet gestures. With Ripley's new perspective, it seems strange that he hasn't done anything.
Your crush is a mystery to no one. Including Ash, but he made no comment during the journey. Made no real gesture of returning it. Perhaps all those actions of looking out for you are what he does for you while he cares for the others in different methods.
With little time remaining, there's no chance you could interview the others to validate that hypothesis. The additional knowledge you have to base it on is Ash being android.
Can androids feel emotion? Does he love you?
With your thoughts spiralling, growing more doubtful of each interaction with Ash. Analysis of each memory to see if what he did was done to be polite. The more your heart aches at the possibility of your crush being one slide.
Maybe the gifts were simply because I didn't snitch on him? Appreciation gifts?
"Ugh!" you groan even louder, pressing your face into your hands. The last thing, truly the last fucking thing you needed on the eve of going into hibernation is to become doubtful of your feelings. Doubtful of Ash.
'Fuck you, Ripley,' you mentally curse at the warrant office's ability to get into your head.
You feel incredibly drained, dinner and the round of poker night went smoothly. Doing your best to acknowledge Ash sitting beside you but not interacting as much.
The moment poker night was over with Dallas telling everyone to wrap it up, announcing what time cryo sleep will be, you dash out of the room to avoid Ash. Walking around the ship when you find Jones and following him. Which is where you find yourself now. Back in the empty lounge room with said cat peacefully asleep on your lap.
You diligently follow the rule of not moving once a beloved pet takes place. You think its an hour or two away from going into the cryo chamber. You should be spending this time getting ready, or at the very least considering where Jones is, reflecting on memories made.
But all your thoughts continue to drift back to Ash. You come to an acceptance of keeping your feelings to yourself. Allowing the what if's and daydreams of confessing to haunt your every waking moment once you return home. To taunt your dreams as the reality of hearing Ash softly mock how an android couldn't return feelings is too painful to face.
You sigh heavily, feeling tired from the day you had. You shift slowly, so as to not disturb the cat, titling your head back to get comfortable enough to rest your eyes for a moment.
"There you are." Ash softly whispers from behind startles you.
"Ah!” Your eyes wide open as you tense under Jones.
Ash slowly walks around, moving to sitting on the back rest beside you. You crane your neck back to look up at Ash, patting Jones softly to comfort him as you feel him stretch on your lap.
“I've been looking for you everywhere on the ship. Are you fond of the lounge to choose your last hour here?” Ash ask, despite the innocent question, his tone has a hard edge to it. Like he's restraining himself.
"Ah, no, its just. Jones slept on me." You swallow nervously. A dreadful feeling of being corner crawl up your spine.
"And that is stopping you how?" He raises a brow as he glances down at the cat.
"Um, it's just, there's this unspoken rule that when a pet falls asleep on you….you just suck it up and stay still." You weakly explain, Jones purs heard as you pat him.
"Thats very human of you. I don't truly understand the effort of it all."
"Because it feels really special to be chosen by Jones?"
"I suppose. I was referring to bringing Jones onboard.”
"Oh.” You pause for a moment, wondering if Ash even likes Jones, “ Jones is Riley's cat so, I guess the only reason she needs to bring him is…” you hesitate, realising the words on the tip of your tongue. Fearful of the damage they may cause. “Is because she loves him."
"I was thinking about what you said." Ash bluntly shifts the topic. You feel your heart skipping a beat, hands starting to tremble as you keep patting Jones. Needing the action to ease your mind.
"How it ‘doesn't change anything’. Most wouldn't take kindly to being tricked. Especially by an android." Ash begins, not waiting for your response as that hard edge in his tone returns.
"I don't understand-"
"I'm asking if you change your feelings about me." Ash cuts you off, your eyes duck as you recognise the irritated tone.
"Pff, feelings? What feelings– What do you mean?" A very strained and weak laugh leaves your lips at the surge of panic. Becoming pinned under the cat from a conversation you were moments before content to never have. You feel ill prepared, too tired to skillfully talk your way out of this. Frightening at the consequences brewing.
"You've been avoiding me." Ash pointedly stares at you. Not granting you mercy as he presses.
"I haven't been avoiding you," you mumble weakly in protest.
"Please spare me the bullshit," you tense your shoulders at the tone.
"You said this doesn't change anything yet precisely nine hours and twenty one minutes later, you've been avoiding me. Not even dignify me with a glance or acknowledgement unless in company of the others."
"Uh, what do you want me to say?"
"The truth."
"Like what?" you let out a humourless laugh. Lifting your hands as Jones shift to sit on your lap.
“About your feelings,” Ash leans closer, bring a hand to your chin to turn your face towards him forcing the eye contact you've done your best to avoid. Knowing you've reached your limit and crave at the sight.
"My feelings? You want the truth about how you're making me lose my mind here." You weakly joke. Unsure of how to keep what little pride and dignity you have left. Unsure of how to be honest without blurting out 'I'm in love with you and Im scared!'
"That is my intention." Ash words cut through. You don't have time to dumbly stutter out 'what?' as Ash removes his hand, not needing it to force your gaze.
"To reduce that brilliant mind of yours, filled with ideas, scientific analysis– to nothing. Except thoughts of me.
"Do you know how long I waited for you to make a move. The moment you knew of my origins, you took away that privilege. Worst, you took away the time remaining by your side. Of your attention”
“I thought you didn't like me.” You gasp softly, in disbelief of the situation. After convincing yourself for so long this could only happen in a dream.
Ash looks briefly taken aback at the confession. Only to shake his head as he makes a realization.“So that's what took you so long.”
“You could have said something!” You straighten in your seat, moving too much for Jones comfort, he leaps off your lap and runs off. Possibly in search of his owner.
"I'm telling you now. That I was aware of you staring at me. Your attention. Your affection. All of it, rightfully mine to take. And now I'm confirming if you still feel the same.” Ash explains slowly, as if hes explaining some difficult math of two plus two equals four, to a child.
Despite the soft mocking tone, you honestly appreciate it, as with the way your heart is racing. You find it hard to concentrate. The thinly made dam that keeps your feeling back ready to brust as your self control thins.
“Do you still have feelings?” Ash repeats, noticing the way your gaze shifts to his lips. Bring your attention back as he slowly gets off the back rest to stand behind you. His movements are controlled and look effortless graceful while your chest raises with anticipation.
“Yes.” You answer, twisting in your seat for a better angle as your lips meet his in a blind rush. Self-control toss out the window as you lean forward. You feel his hand placed on the back for your neck to guide you, oulling you closer. Without breaking the kiss, you eagerly shift onto your knees on the seat to better face Ash. Hands reach forward to cling tightly onto his suit.
You can smell the sanitiser off his clothes and it's never been a more heavenly scent till now. Which sounds crazy because since when does sanitiser smell good?
You press firmly against Ash. Hungrily taking everything he gives you as months worth of pinning is freely express. Moaning softly as you feel him follow your movements.
A voice from down the hall cuts through, its Dallas calling out that time is up, calling to meet at the cryo chamber.
You and Ash pull apart. Nose softly touching as you pant to catch your breath while Ash studies your features.
“What happens when we reach earth?” You nervously ask.
“I find a way to keep you near.” Ash honestly answered. Placing a chastise kiss to your lips. He steps back and helps guide you off the chair. You walk hand in hand until you reach the cryo chamber, letting go before the others see.
Walking around till you reach your pod, you begin to undress to your underwear and place the clothing into the draw by the chamber.
The crew of the Nostromo is in high spirits as they climb into their cryo chambers half clothed. Remarks and excitement about plans of what they do on earth is shared between. You smile widely, infectious with the positive energy, lips tingling from the kiss. You lift a leg into the chamber, climbing in when suddenly Ash is beside you.
"Careful now." Ash steady your with his hands on your biceps. You become momentarily distracted by the sight of his chest. Pushing away all thoughts of scratching his chest for a later time.
You get try lower into the chamber, feeling his hands trail down your arms to hold your hands. Causing goosebumps to wake during his path and doing your best to ingore the crew's obnoxious cheer at the sight.
"Sweet dreams." Ash whispers as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Its incredibly tender and as he pulls away to make his way towards his chamber, you couldn't help but to lift your head up. Neck strain as you twist to watch him go.
He catches you as he lays down and waves. It's childish and silly and somehow so Ash. You wave back and force yourself to lay down as the lid closes. The room falls into silence as the crew is ready to drift asleep with dreams of Earth. While you close your eyes with a smile, ready to see Ash in yours as you enter into cryo sleep.
