hi michelle / @leaiorganas ! happy holidays boo. this is my gift for rebelcaptain secret santa! That was such a great prompt, and I hope you enjoy! rated t for language, kisses and like, idk skin? XD
Jyn wonders if all the pieces of the Death Star, this sibling built rather than birthed, will burn up in atmo or come chasing after her, play tag with her on the ground of this humid little moon.
Like the sister she might have had, all those years ago on the dark wet beaches of Lah'mu, if things had been different. Looking back, Jyn knows that her parents had always been careful - the shots Lyra gave herself every year, the pill bottle nestled in Galen's sock drawer. At eight, Jyn hadn't understood what she would learn at twelve. Would mourn at sixteen.
Perhaps Lyra had always known that Galen Erso could only ever father weapons, but she’d still birthed Jyn in that prison cell. At twenty-one, Jyn searches the lines in her palms for something other than scar tissue. Her mother’s revenge.
Congratulations! For the prompt? Rebelcaptain and Wait? Are you jealous?
in honor of 1111 Followers
Jyn was confused as she watched Cassian pace back and forth across the flight deck. He had been raging ever since the ship had landed, and she had left behind all of her gear and cargo just to see what had been wrong, assuming some mission had fallen apart or another trainee had tried to backtalk him.
It seemed, however, that his rage was actually for her. She had approached, and he had immediately snapped at her to stay where she was, that he wanted to think about what he was going to say before he said it-
What could be the matter?
He knew where she was going, he knew her mission, that she was never in any form of danger… had she forgotten to file a report? Honestly, this Rebellion and their paperwork… if there was one thing Saw had gotten right with the Partisans, it was the lack of need for anything like paperwork or gaining signatures or votes - if Imps were in the way, they were killed, simple as that. There was no need to discuss it.
“Cassian, is something even wrong, or are you planning to just pace back and forth until it’s time for dinner?” she asked finally, crossing her arms under her breasts as she shifted all of her weight to one leg. That always seemed to do the trick to catch his attention - adopt an air of both seniority and annoyance, and he would somehow get himself together.
“Something wrong? Something WRONG? You didn’t even ask, Jyn! I just, you just, you, you took off with him!”
Jyn stared at him for a long second, processing what she had just heard, before turning back to look at Kay, who was still unloading the cargo, muttering annoyances just loud enough for her to hear about how he was doing all of the work.
Was Cassian talking about Kay? Was he annoyed that she had taken Kay with her?
“Are you… are you insinuating that I am not allowed to take Kay with me on a mission? That I have to ask your permission to have him go with me off base? He’s a droid, Cassian, not a piece of property. He can make that decision for himself.”
The sound of the box hitting the ground behind her was the first reaction to her statement, but within seconds, Cassian was already snapping back, interrupting whatever sassy remark Kay was about to spit at them both.
“What, no! Kay is allowed to go wherever he wants, although I doubt I could stop him, but no, you didn’t ask me!”
“Ask you what?” Jyn asked, still confused, brow wrinkling. “You were the one that assigned me this mission!”
“Yes, and I told you that you could take anyone you wanted,” he retorted, taking a step closer to her. “Anyone at all. And you didn’t ask.”
Jyn took a step back as Cassian took another step forward, and she finally caught what he was saying. “Wait, are you jealous?”
Cassian froze where he stood, his jaw dropped, and she gave him a moment to compose himself, but he seemed completely shocked, frozen, unable to find a response.
A part of her wanted to press further, but a moment of pity struck her. Why would he be jealous?
“Cassian… are you jealous that I got to take Kay on a mission?”
“What?” he asked, his brow raising at the question, or perhaps that he had blurted out his question. “What, no! No, I’m - karking hell, Jyn, I’m jealous that he got to go with you. I wish you had asked me. To go with you.”
She wanted to laugh. She wanted to throw her head back and laugh, or to perhaps instead brush it off, or maybe… no. He was her husband. She shouldn’t laugh at him.
“Cassian.”
The way she said his name should say it all, and within seconds, his head had fallen, almost as though he was ashamed. She sighed, not wanting to push him too hard, and instead went to him, her arms wrapped around his middle in seconds.
“Cassian Andor, any time you want to head off-world with me, just say the word. When you say I can take anyone with me… I didn’t realize you had the time in your busy schedule. I always want you with me, okay?”
His lips pressed to her forehead as he nodded, and Jyn allowed her eyes to close, simply breathing him in as he held her tight.
“I didn’t mean to be jealous,” he muttered into her skin, and she allowed her hands to go up and down his back, soothing him, urging him to speak further. “I just… why does the droid get to go, and not me?”
“It’s his ship,” Jyn said, a smile curling over her lips. “You know how he gets when I try to take it without him. If you want to make him stay behind next mission, though, it can be just you and I.”
He nodded again, his arms holding her close, and she lifted her chin, going onto tiptoes so she could reach his lips, kissing them softly. Well then. Whatever had been irking him… that was easy enough.
“I’m pleased you can still be jealous in regards to me,” she said with a tease, and Cassian let out a cough in response, clearly feeling embarrassed.
“You’re worth getting jealous over,” he muttered, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he stepped back. “Now, let’s go get dinner.”
She grabbed his hand and led him away from the cargo hold and towards dinner, knowing that afterwards, there would be a different sort of repeated action to welcome her home.
“Humans,” Kay muttered, resuming his work. “And their stupid emotions.”
thank you, my friend!!! we’ve got well over a foot of snow outside so the dinner we were going to get from a place downtown has been shelved and we’ll have to come up with a backup plan.
but it is very pretty out!! we never get this much snow!
since everything's a little weird right now & most seem to be bored I thought we could play a quarantine game 💘 answer the following! 1.how has your day been? 2. what is the last thing that made you smile? 3.what's keeping you entertained these days? 4. if you are in some kind of quarantine/self isolation: is there anything you'd like to achieve in this time? 5.post a selfie! (if you're comfortable with that) 6. last but not least: send this to some mutuals to keep the game going 🥰
Thanks, friend! Kinda didn’t feellike answering directly, if you get my drift, so hope this is acceptable.
1. [your day] It takes two weeks, three refuel stops, five brief detoursaround unexpected Imperial patrols, and what feels like a thousand yearsto get to Jedha from Yavin IV. True, the Alliance spy and the (former, he insists)Imperial droid aren’t the worst people she’s ever been cooped up in a tinyspace with for a long period of time. Hells, they aren’t even close, althoughthe droid does have a gift for passive-aggressive comments that outstrips mostorganics, and the spy has a tendency to watch her from the corners of his eyeslike he’s just waiting for her to pull that blaster again. But she can handlethat, even expects it, and she’s watching right back because it’s hard to trusta man who lies for a living (who lies to live).
In a way, it’s almost a pleasanttrip. The spy cooks on the little fold out stove every standard meal time, andhe’s…surprisingly good. And more importantly, generous. Jyn’s almost certainhe’s been feeding her an extra half ration each meal, although whether that’skindness or just an instinctive urge to feed someone who clearly appreciateshis food, she’s not as certain. The droid doesn’t move around from the cockpitmuch, because he lacks the ‘organic need for pointless physical activity.’ Thatmakes it easier for her to sleep, not having to worry that he’ll stomp over toher corner and cave her head in while her guard is down. The only real downsideto this whole arrangement (barring, well, all the shitty bits that are hergeneral life) is that no matter where she turns or does or thinks - he’s there.Just, there. Everywhere. They step carefully around one another on theirway to the tiny ‘fresher in the back. They catch each other’s gaze every timethey glance up (which is often, because there are only so many things to reador poke at or otherwise keep their hands and eyes busy). When one of them wakesup, the other always does so, too, neither able to sleep when the other ismoving around so close, so strange, so unknown. Jyn is irritated to discoverthat her whole schedule seems to have synced perfectly with his by the end ofthe second day cycle, and worse, there’s absolutely nothing she can do aboutit. It’s fear and mistrust, familiarity and boredom all rolled into oneannoying ball of repetition, and after the first four days, she is both oddlycomforted and thoroughly sick of it.
So when the spy settles down tosleep that evening (and Jyn curls up in her corner opposite him, just farenough that their fingertips couldn’t quite touch if they tried), she decidesto change the pattern. Just a little. Just…anything to shake the monotony.“So,” she says out loud, the first non-essential conversation they’ve had sincethey met. She has the satisfaction of seeing him startle a little at the sound,and his eyes widen for a second before he catches it and turns his neutral facetowards her. Jyn tilts an eyebrow at him and asks, dryly, “How was your day?”
2. [the last smile] Cassian has a smile for every occasion. It’s notcoincidence or accident, either; he has carefully and deliberately taken thetime to create and hone a specific pleasant expression for a variety ofpotential situations. It’s one of the many things they never taught him duringthe ragged, patched together “training” the Alliance put him through to becomean official agent of Rebel Intelligence. He knew that he would have to lie, ofcourse, and lie a thousand different ways for a thousand different reasons to athousand different people (sometimes all in one mission). That part was madepainfully clear to him both in training and out of it. But the fact that hewould have to dedicate time to specifically considering how and when to smileat people – that had come as a bit of a shock to him, when he realized that hewas doing it.
There’s the relaxed, slightly stupidsmile of the friendly, average guy at the cantina, the guy that just wants tohave a good time and maybe chat with his new ‘friend’ about whatever it is theydo at work all day, golly, isn’t that just a bummer they way they treat you upat corporate? Why don’t they raise your wages? Oh, because who is your boss?Huh. How about that?
There’s the tight, cold smile of theImperial officer (but not too tight, not too cold, not for alow-level officer who can’t afford to accidentally condescend to the wrongperson), the Imperial officer who walks through a checkpoint with only mildimpatience to be on his way, too important to be bothered by local guards, butnot so important that the Stormtroopers have to log his passage in the VIPrecords.
There’s the vicious, mocking smileof the man picking a fight in the shadows (most useful when Stormtrooperpatrols are passing nearby and he needs someone thrown into the local prisonfor awhile, or when he needs to make a diversion, or once or twice when heneeds to get the snapping splinters of ice out from under his skin before hegoes out of his damn mind from the rage freezing his insides into jaggedshards - )
There’s the empty, meaningless smileof the unremarkable bystander. The open, inviting smile of the merchant tryingto offload entirely innocent wares. The sympathetic smile of the rebelrecruiter listening to grieving, seething potential recruits. A thousanddifferent smiles for a thousand different reasons to a thousand differentpeople, and not one of them is real.
Orrather, they are all real - because the best lies have a seed of truth in themand no one knows this better than Cassian Andor - but none of them are his. Theyare calculated and intentional, chosen, worn, and discarded exactly when andhow he needs them.
Which is why it’s a hell of shock tohim the day Jyn curves her fingers around his lips and says, “This one’s myfavorite,” and Cassian realizes suddenly that he’s smiling against herfingertips, his lips pressing into her touch in a way he has not practiced anddidn’t really intend. Stupidly, he feels a brief surge of panic because he’ssmiling and he doesn’t know what it looks like - too sharp? Too wide? Toocheerful? Too sardonic?
Jyn must see his panic because herown soft expression hardens slightly, her lips pressed thin and her hand pullingaway.
Cassian catches it, and presses herpalm back over his cheek, her thumb brushing his lips, and shakes his head.“Thanks, it –“ he has to stop, clear his throat. The lines of Jyn’s face softenagain, and she runs her thumb carefully along his lower lip, which helps clearaway the uncertainty better than any breathing exercise or focus skill helearned in training. “Thanks,” he starts again, “it’s just something I thoughtI’d try.”
And he lets his face relax into itagain.
3. [keeping you entertained] “Didn’t we, uh, we already watch this season?” Bodhi frownsat the flickering holo projector on the desk, but it doesn’t stop him fromsettling comfortably on the floor, his back against Cassian’s bunk and a largebowl of some kind of roasted crackers in his lap. Cassian eyes the bowlpointedly, and Bodhi shrinks a little under the scrutiny. “Um, I’ll stay onthe, you know, the floor. Promise. No more crumbs in the bunk.”
“They aren’t much better scatteredon the deck,” Cassian starts, though he takes care to keep any harsh edges outof his tone. Teasing Bodhi is a fragile business, but it seems to besurprisingly effective at drawing the pilot out of his nervous shell.
“It wasn’t that bad last time,” Jynshrugs and flops down next to Bodhi in a deliberate display of solidarity.“He’s exaggerating.”
“You’re not the one who woke up withcheese crumbs in your beard,” Cassian lowers himself down by Jyn’s side assmoothly as he can. He doesn’t wince or let his shoulders tense up in theslightest, but Jyn rolls her eyes and twists up to her knees to grab the pillowfrom the bunk. She smacks it into his chest lightly and glares at him until hesighs and adjusts to position the pillow under and behind him, cushioning hisstill-healing back.
“Jyn would never have cheese crumbsin her beard,” Bodhi says loyally, shifting the cracker bowl onto her leg sothat all three of them can reach.
Jyn shoots him a dry look. “Thanks.”
“Because she doesn’t have a beard,”Cassian grumbles, and takes a cracker.
“Because she doesn’t like cheesenibs,” Bodhi shoots back, and between them, Jyn claps a hand over her mouth -but not before they hear it.
Bodhi turns to stare at her inastonishment. “Was that a…?”
She shakes her head fiercely,scowling at him over her own gloved hand.
“It was,” Cassian says firmly,drawing her silent ire. He raises his eyebrows in response and lets himselfrelax, lets his mouth soften and the last lingering thoughts of the reports heshould be doing fade. “She giggled.”
“I did no such thing,” Jyn drops herhand and growls at them both.
“Uh, no, no, I think, um, I thinkCassian’s right,” Bodhi grins at her. “That was definitely a little gigglethere.”
“No.” Jyn snatches the controllerfor the holoprojector and brusquely starts the old recording.
The screen fills with a familiarlogo, then clears to show several people standing nervously behind individualstovetops and counters. “Welcome,” says the slightly static warped voice of acheerful-looking Human, “to the Great Coruscanti Baking Show! Brace yourselffor a cavalcade of exotic treats, because it’s Hosnian week!”
“We have watched thisseason,” Bodhi grabbed a handful of crackers and drew his knees up. “Wait, isthis the one where Shunari has the burnt cream puffs, or was that next week?”
“Next week,” Cassian reminds him. “Ithink this one is Birt with the fried wampa-cakes.”
Bodhi hums, already absorbed in theshow, but Jyn is still watching him from the corner of her eye, so Cassiantakes advantage of the slight privacy and leans his head down towards her. Shenever moves a muscle, not so much as a flicker of her eyelashes, by allappearances completely ignoring him as the holoprojector shifts to show a closeup of swirling creams and spices. But her stillness is as much of a tell as anyflinch, and Cassian amuses himself by seeing how close he can lean before sherealizes that she’s forgotten to breathe. Closer than he expects, actually, hislips almost brushing the shell of her ear before she draws in a sharp breathand glances to the side.
“Jyn,” Cassian says in a low voicethat he knows Bodhi won’t even hear over the noise of the show. He waits a beatuntil she remembers to exhale, and then adds, “It was definitely agiggle.”
Jyn turns her head and kisses him.
It’s a quick move, a brief, almostbrutal press of her lips to his cheek, and then she turns right back to theholoscreen as if absolutely nothing has happened, leaving Cassian sitting inshocked stillness.
“Uh, you okay?” Bodhi’s voice cutsthrough the static in Cassian’s head, and he blinks, looks up to find Bodhiwatching him with a puzzled expression over Jyn’s head. Jyn herself is chewingpeacefully on a cracker, by all appearances absorbed in the show.
“Yes,” Cassian manages after anawkward beat.
“Oh. Uh. Okay.” Bodhi doesn’t soundterribly convinced, but one of the contestants bursts into tears on the screenwhen her cake platter topples over, and Bodhi turns back immediately, makingsympathetic noises at the mess.
Next to him, Jyn’s mouth quirks, asmall, smug twist of her lips.
“You win,” Cassian says under hisbreath.
She shrugs, and though her quiettone is brazen, he can hear the raw vulnerability hidden just under thesurface. “Play you again?”
“Sure,” he says, keeping his wordsjust as light and careless as hers. “Anytime.”
“After this episode,” Bodhi says loudly, not looking at either ofthem, and turns the volume up.
4. [quarantine goals] “I am going to finish these reports,” Jyn announces throughgritted teeth, “if it kills me.”
Cassian leans over her shoulder tolook at the half-empty datapad screen in her hands, and nods solemnly. “At thisrate,” he says with mock sadness, “it looks like it will.”
And then he grunts in surprise, allmockery wiped from his face as Jyn sets the datapad down on the mattress and lunges.She pins him to the bunk and doesn’t bother to wait for him to readjust tohis new orientation, leaning down and claiming his mouth in a near-savage kiss.He recovers quicker than he did last time, which hazily Jyn thinks isdefinitely a good thing, means his reactions are getting better, that’s good.That’s safer. For him, and for her fractured heart. Then she doesn’t thinkanything at all for awhile because Cassian has definitely gotten better at beingpinned beneath her, or in threading his hands through her hair, at trailing hislips across her face, her throat, her shoulder, at twisting his hips androlling her over until she is pinned beneath –
Wait. Shit. Jyn pulls back from himand glares, trying not to break and smile back when he grins and winks at her.
“Since when,” she manages to saydespite the heat suddenly sparking and crackling under her skin, despite hiswarm weight against her body, “did you learn that flip?”
“You’ve been spending a lot of timewriting reports lately,” he says in a voice far too casual for how she can feelhis body reacting to her, his heart pounding against her chest and a growingpressure between her legs. “I’ve had some free time to practice.”
“Been sparring without me?” Jyndemands, but he only laughs and kisses her again, cutting off any furtherquestions.
“You’re welcome to join me,” hesays, and a wicked light in his eyes. And then he moves again, but not any waythat Jyn wants, not the way her body aches for him to move. No, this time thesmug rotting bastard rolls them abruptly to the edge of the bunk andtwists, pulling himself free of her grip and coming to his feet in one smoothmotion that she would approve of in literally any other circumstance. She isleft sprawled on the bunk on her back, her face flushed and her skin cold wherehe had been only moments before. “After you’re finished with those reports, ofcourse,” he says calmly, and ducks, laughing, as Jyn hurls the datapad at hishead.
5. [selfie] “No, thank you,” Cassian says, smiling blandly at theupbeat tourist photographer and turning his back before she could raise theholocamera all the way. “Another time, perhaps.”
