we watched the day go by, stories of all we did // aos next gen series
connor/april ward
in which April helps Connor train and Connor gets mildly distracted. ao3.
April’s waiting for Connor when he drags himself down the stairs to the cargo hold at six am. He feels barely alive—he definitely inherited his mother’s sleeping habits. He’s pretty sure April, on the other hand, gets up at five every morning to work out. In fact, she’s been at it long enough already that her shirt’s already slightly sticking to her with sweat.
He blinks to keep himself from staring. She looks great, somehow, despite being sweaty and despite having been training for an hour, and it’s hard to look away.
‘Morning,’ she says, brightly, and that manages to break him out of his awful, terrible trance, in part because its amongst the most upbeat and cheery he’s ever seen her.
He puts it down to the fact April’s a morning person. Which is a pity, given that Connor is most certainly not, and he doesn’t know how that would affect a—
He desperately attempts to stop himself before he can think the word “relationship”. Because that would be stupid and ridiculous and he’s just tired and delirious from being up so early.
‘Morning,’ he replies. ‘Thanks, again, for offering to train me.’
April smiles. Which is thoroughly unfair, because her smiles are rare and wonderful and always catch him totally off guard, and when he’s still half asleep they’re especially debilitating.
‘It’s no problem,’ she says. ‘I thought we could start with some basics, so just try and stay on your feet.’ She moves into a fighting stance, spreading her feet on the blue mats and raising her fists.
‘Sure.’ Connor nods. He tries to mirror her posture.
‘I’ll try to go easy on you,’ she says. ‘Are you ready?’
He nods, fully aware that April’s idea of going easy on him could probably be fatal—he’s seen her sparring with Carey, and it’s brutal.
He jumps back from her first blow, stumbling slightly.
She frowns. ‘Sloppy,’ she says. ‘Keep yourself controlled and grounded, Connor.’
He nods again. ‘Right. Control. Grounded.’ He tries to focus on what she’s telling him, and spreads his feet, trying to balance himself.
To his credit, he manages to dodge the first punch. Then, though, she’s grabs his wrist and he’s on the floor, staring up at her as she stands over her.
‘Shit,’ he says, taking the hand she offers to help him up. ‘I love you, you’re terrifying.’
April gives him that startled rabbit in the headlights look that says she’s got no idea how to respond. It’s the same look she gave him when he made the mistake of asking about her about her dad’s family or if she’s got any idea what went down between their parents.
He realises sharply what it is he’s said. ‘It,’ he corrects himself. ‘I love it how you’re terrifying. It’s great. You’re amazing. Super.’
‘Do you want to go again?’ she asks, and he’s grateful or he might have kept talking forever and just made everything a hundred times worse.
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘Let’s go again.’ He brushes himself off.
‘Watch me, this time,’ she says. ‘Focus on what I do, okay? You need to learn to predict your opponent.’
‘Got it,’ he says. ‘Watch you, keep controlled and grounded.’
She smiles. ‘Exactly.’
She grabs for his wrist and he avoids, if not with April’s grace. He’s slightly insulted that it doesn’t seem to be any effort at all for her, while dodging her quick attacks is leaving him close to breathless.
She sweeps his feet out from under him, and he ends up lying on his back on the blue mats. She’s got him pinned down and is straddling his chest and it’s… distracting.
‘I thought you said you were going to go easy on me,’ he complains.
She frowns, scrunching her nose, clearly confused. ‘This is me going easy,’ she says.
He laughs. ‘Are you sure? Because it feels like you’re trying to kill me.’
‘Oh,’ she says, confusion fading from her expression so that she now just mostly looks unimpressed. ‘Please, if I wanted to kill you, you’d know.’ She shifts slightly, and he can’t help thinking about how incriminating this would look if anyone was to come in and see them. ‘If I was going to kill you from this position, I’d do this,’ she says.
Connor tries to grab her wrist. ‘There’s really no need to demonstrate.’
She brushes him off. ‘No, it’ll be a good training exercise. I can show you how to stop me.’ She moves so she’s sitting slightly further down his chest and leaning forwards. She’s got one hand above his hand, and then shit—she’s got a knife to his throat.
‘Where the hell were you keeping that?’ he asks.
(He’s actually oddly thankful for it, because the shock of it is distracting him from thinking about how easy it would be to kiss her right now. Which is something he definitely, desperately needs distracted from, because for a start he can feel the electricity building in his veins and he’d prefer not to give her a nasty electric shock.)
She just shrugs.
‘So how do I escape?’ he asks.
‘Flip us,’ she says. Like it’s that simple.
He stares up at her. ‘Flip us?’ he repeats.
She nods. ‘So you’re on top of me instead. But you need to do it fast enough that I can’t cut your throat, and you’ll need to catch my wrists so you can pin them down.’
‘You make it sound so easy,’ he says dryly.
She shrugs again. ‘Go slowly,’ she says. ‘I’m unbalanced on this side, see, because I’m holding the knife. Use that.’
Somehow, he manages to flip them so he’s leaning on his elbows and she’s lying beneath him. He only really manages to pin her wrists because she practically placed them in his hands—he knows she could reverse their positions again in a split second if she wanted to.
He feels hyperaware of how close they are. April’s not saying anything, just staring up at him, pupils blown wide. He thinks he can feel the heat of her skin, and maybe he’s imagining it, but he feels like her breathing is heavier than it was before.
She swallows. ‘That was good,’ she says. ‘I suppose. For a beginner.’
‘Thanks,’ he says, and he thinks it might sound a little strangled.
‘You know,’ she says, ‘you could use your powers to make me drop the knife.’
‘Not a chance,’ he tells her. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’
‘You won’t hurt me,’ she insists, ‘and you need to learn to use your powers in the field.’
‘Not on you.’
She stares up at him, hard and defiant, and it’s probably the worst thing she’s done so far. He can feel his stomach tighten, but his resolve to keep his powers as far from her as possible doesn’t waver.
‘Connor,’ she says, a little softer (and a little softer is the best April does, in his experience). ‘I don’t mind. It won’t hurt.’
‘I do,’ he insists.
She shrugs, finally looking away. It hurts a little. He finally lets go of her wrists. ‘Your loss,’ she says. She wriggles out from underneath him, and he tries to focus on anything other than her skin on his as she moves and then the sudden feeling of emptiness as soon as they’re no longer touching.
She waits for him to stand. ‘We can try this again tomorrow morning,’ she says.
‘Sure,’ Connor says. He’s not sure whether he’s looking forward to it or is mildly terrified. He watches her as she heads up the stairs and decides that the answer is both, probably.
georgia did you mean my go to fitzsimmons trash when i also want to be fitzsimmons trash
the teeny tiniest cute lil brit to exist (yes i checked this is a fact i’ll fight u)
she’s so fascinating and talented and so fucking fuNNY i cannot believe half the time
honestly the snapchats i receive daily of her just being her quirky little cute self brighten my day like x437534534 she has the warmest personality I LVOE HERSO MUCH
