SHORT FIC ARCHIVE

[buccellati]

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Rebecca x Shaun | Assassin's Creed

[the_hacker]

It's pretty normal for Rebecca to stumble upon Shaun with his nose in a book, but it's not entirely common for him to be asleep on it. It's an exceptional evening for the historian, it seems, that he was so engrossed as to fall asleep.

Maybe it was that boring. She chuckles.

That doesn't rouse him, though, and neither does the motion of her smoothly sliding the book from under his face. Indeed, he seems quite content to wrap his arms up a bit, as though trying to cradle the missing thing, and rest his head upon them. His glasses askew, he breathes steadily, evenly, and Rebecca pauses to reflect on everything they've been through.

She remembers the first time she saw his stupid screenname, his obvious password, his dangerous truths and foolhardy commentary. She remembers the day she contacted him, those simple words: `Turn back, you don't know what you're getting into.` The day they took him, the day she saved him, the way she just knew some punk junior professor was about to get tortured or worse by Abstergo.

And now, what? They're partners, in it til the end, and she's not sure how she functioned so well without him. Working with Bill and Clay was one thing, but this Animus venture never could have really taken off without the sleeping man before her. His expertise... she wishes she didn't appreciate it so much, so maybe she could give him a harder time, but she's grateful.

Gloved fingers rest on metal, plucking the glasses from his face.

Worn fingers reach for hers, stopping her motion. With half-lidded eyes—is he smiling?—Shaun looks up at her blearily. For a moment she wonders if he knows it's her, but his mumbled thanks is enough to reassure her. It just seems right to lean down and give him a brief kiss on his forehead.

"Reading about the Revolutionary War again, huh? You just never give up." By the time she pulls back, though, his eyes are closed again, ad his peaceful sleep has resumed. There's a coarse blanket nearby; she drapes it over his back.

"G'night, Shaun."

jai x juliana | halo

[rubblegoddess]

The first time they kiss, it’s awkward, a simple press that she tries to move forward until he completely resists, pushing her away. That’s when she decides that sane, logical human relations aren’t for her. It’s better if things are like stories, better if everything goes perfectly smoothly. There’s not a shameful bone in her body, and she isn’t embarrassed, but she certainly isn’t happy. After all, he’s her favorite.

The second time they kiss, he pushes her away after a few moments, though they do stay tangled up afterward a little longer than the first time. Still, she’s impolitely asked to leave the bunk she’d decided they’d share, and though she agrees, she feels a measure of annoyance at the entire situation. For a full month after, she contents herself with sleeping in the captain’s chair.

The third time, things seem to go both ways. This time, he tries to give as good as he gets, and she’s happy enough that his lips move and his hand comes to rest at the small of her back. She practically purrs. It’s cut short by an unrelated cough, and she’s out of his arms faster than their unwelcome guest can blink. She makes note to never try to get near him in the galley again. Not like that, anyway.

The fourth time, he starts things, and even though she knows it’s just because he’s about to jet out of the airlock and possibly never come back, she’s satisfied. Because she’s the last thing he’s thinking of and maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want any regrets. But then, what regrets were there to have? She has every concept of loyalty but little concept of romantic affection. The fourth time is brief, and the fifth follows shortly thereafter, a bold reply from her before she hands him his helmet.

It’s when he comes back that she loses count.

CT x Pillguy | Red vs Blue

[connecticut]

When she can't sleep at night is when she thinks of him the most. One arm folded under her pillow, cradling her head like it's resting on someone's shoulder, Connie sighs. A chance meeting, only one, but she still misses him in ways she never thought possible. She turns her face toward the soft, yielding cloth and nuzzles the pillow slightly, wishing and pretending and taking just a moment to be a love-struck girl in a soldier's body.

It doesn't last.

A few seconds later, she scoffs at herself, turning onto her back and flopping her legs out, hands coming to rest on her stomach. Way to go, she thinks. It's a serious weakness to be so attached. She curses herself before taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly, again and again until she feels herself being lulled to sleep...

In her dreams, he's a ship's captain, formidable but gentle, well-liked and always obeyed. He has a calm air, always smiles when he's not sternly defending his ideals. He keeps a picture of her in his breast pocket, near his heart, and thinks about her when things are down.

It's kind of disgusting, she thinks.

But it is what it is, her too-active resting mind, and she lets it go.

In her dreams, she's the ideal solider, never missing, never failing, and all he can do when he sees her in combat is to stand in awe and be glad they're on the same side. He defers to her, respects her more than anyone, and even when he's wearing his bars, he will admit that she's the finer of the two of them.

Also disgusting.

But when she wakes and she checks her frown and feels that odd sensation of warmth that you get from sleeping in the exact same position under the exact same blanket all night, she's grateful that she at least sleeps soundly. With him in mind, she knows that things are in better hands than they would be otherwise, that this war can be prevented or won, and that someday, somehow, she'll see him again.

[pillguy]

:')

halsey x jacob | halo AU

[undid_iridium]

It’s a nice enough day, sun shining as a soft breeze blows through the young trees that grow up around the apartment complex Jacob Keyes resides in. But it’s not something Catherine notices as she walks up to his door. She looks weighed down. defeated, eyes distant. Her thoughts are anywhere but here. Whatever is behind that door will either make her day, or break it, and she’s not sure if she can handle that again.

Again.

He hasn’t been the same since the war, since the Flood, since the antidote, hasn’t been the man she fell for so many years ago. Instead, there are gaps, pieces missing, moments where he stops and stares and loses everything but himself, and sometimes even that. She’s not sure what to do with it.

With a heavy sigh, she enters the apartment, expecting silence and solitude. But there’s Jacob on the couch, and she notes right away that he’s making some kind of small motion with his shoulders, something almost imperceptible.

Moving closer, she notes that he’s turning that idiotic pipe over in his hands, a replica of the one he lost in the war, a gift from her that he currently seems confounded by.

“Jacob?”

No response. Another sigh, and she swallows a lump in her throat.

“Admiral Keyes?”

Which finally makes him snap to attention, standing and turning and looking at her with dead eyes and a weak smile. There’s nothing there, no recognition, no little light of hope for several long moments.

“I’m sorry...” She waits for him to finish, waits for that moment when he always--”Catherine.” But he sounds uncertain, like maybe she’s not exactly who he thinks she is. Like maybe she’s not real.

It makes her sick, so sick that her shoulders hunch and her head lowers, and it’s all she can do to stand there and take it. To let herself be forgotten. These sort of severe moments are so few and far between, but it’s watching the love of her life waste away that nearly kills her every time.

“Sit down,” she says, voice firm and commanding, not a hint of gentleness. That seems to snap him back, and he smiles, then frowns, then sits.

“I did it again.”

“You did,” she murmurs, dropping her things haphazardly behind the couch and moving to sit beside him. She can’t be offended. She has no right. Like she always does, she touches his cheek, presses a kiss to his temple as she pulls him down to rest his head on her lap.

“Just go to sleep,” she murmurs. “We’ll worry about it later.”

catherine x jacob | halo (M RATED)

[coffeebeforescience]

Breathe. She has to tell herself to do it more than once, because god knows that after that she can barely think, let alone trust her body to go through a basic automated function such as inhaling, or exhaling.

She has to breathe, but she can’t, because he’s on top of her and even though her eyes are tightly closed, she can feel his weight against her, can feel herself smiling into a lingering kiss without even intending to, and god... That god she doesn’t believe in, oh, she’ll invoke them right now because god alone knows how this whole set of circumstances came together just so.

But she breathes and untangles her aching hands from the sheets, relaxes the tight grip her legs have on him only enough so that he can move away if he’d like. When he doesn’t, she finally opens her eyes.

Looking back at her is something she thought she’d never see. There’s something more than satisfied lust in those eyes, a gentleness, perhaps even a tinge of admiration. And she knows her own eyes are betraying her, too, admiration and latent affection that she won’t ever put words to unless absolutely pressed. There’s no need to. There never had been before, and tonight, even if everything else changes, the fact that they’ve learned to understand without words won’t.

catherine x jacob | halo

[coffeebeforescience]

Today’s like any other day, another one in the march of the mission, a cadence that never seems to waver, always punctuated with this or that symphony as the good doctor relaxes at day’s end. Jacob marvels at this in his own time, wonders how she manages to stay so calm and so focused at once. Instead of worrying at him, she just glances over, motions for him to come closer, and quietly orders the music turned down.

“You weren’t at your best today,” she murmurs, hardly loud enough for him to hear, and he leans in, in case she says anything more. “You stared at me.”

That takes him a moment to process. Did he?

“I wasn’t--not really. Not for long,” he corrects, straightening, which sends him bobbing a bit in the zero-g environment.

“I see.” She dismissively waves him away. But this time, he stays.

“Dr. Halsey,” he begins, then clears his throat and tries again. “What you’re doing, it’s a little hard to keep up with. I don’t know what you’re thinking, and frankly... I don’t feel like I’m supposed to care. I can work with that, but...”

“But?” She’s curious now.

“But do you think we could be a little less convincing?”

Ah, there’s an interesting question. Catherine keys a command on the console and watches as Jacob settles several inches, gravity engaged for the moment.

“I think we should be more convincing.”

Jacob raises an eyebrow. The doctor closes her eyes and has Toran turn the music up.

-------

This time it’s a green dress, delicately dotted with little brown shapes that remind him of leafy patterns on the floor in a forest. In fact, he’s vaguely reminded of camouflage. That is, until she turns her attention to him.

“You’re staring,” she says from a few feet away, straightening the wide neck of the dress and fussing with a cloche she wears over her dark hair. There’s something utterly charming about it, Jacob thinks, to see her face so perfectly framed by those carelessly tousled locks. To anyone else, she might look messy, but to him...

He acts before he thinks. “Doctor?”

And before she can reply, he has an arm gently wound around her waist and his lips pressed to the very corner of her mouth. That’s about when the director of the institute walks up, and just as quickly turns her back to them with a quick clearing of her throat.

Lips near her ear, Jacob whispers only one thing: “More convincing.”

catherine x jacob | halo

[coffeebeforescience]

It’s one of those days where there’s not enough time, not enough hours for her to accomplish everything she feels she must. Paper after paper has passed through her hands only to lay haphazardly on the floor near her feet.

For once, Jacob doesn’t touch it, doesn’t say a thing until she gets so annoyed with them pooling about her ankles and slips her shoes off, tucking her feet up behind her on the couch. Quietly, he slips in, not reading them, but stacking them neatly as best he can. They’re stashed aside on the end table, a few falling off, soliciting a sigh from the lieutenant.

She’s a mess. A complete mess, and chaos travels in her wake. But they’re young enough, and she’s as close to beautiful as he dares to even think about, and he just can’t seem to mind.

Taking a seat beside her at a decent distance, he silently turns the pipe over and over in his hands, the one he always has, the one Catherine teases him about endlessly. He’s in his own world, inside his own head, mind full of strategies and unfulfilled dreams that he can’t help but dwell on.

But then there’s a head heavy on his shoulder, another cascade of papers on the ground, and a hand resting on his leg. Deep, slow breaths register in his ears, but he doesn’t dare turn his head and disturb her. This is the only time he feels really useful to her, and in moments like this, he’d rather everything stay just as it is.

catherine x jacob | pacific rim au

[coffeebeforescience]

Murphy’s Law. It doesn’t usually rule Catherine Halsey’s life, but there are days--bad ones--where nothing seems to care about her pride, her expertise, her feelings. Today is one of those days.

Nothing went right. The morning was fraught with technical difficulties, and she’s still lamenting them now. One tripped fuse by some idiot assistant, putting her tests back an hour, meaning that her favorite Ranger--Jacob Keyes--wouldn’t make it to his secondary physical training on time. And then the Kaiju attacked. As if things couldn’t get worse.

He had scrambled to the prep area, been shuffled into his Jaeger with another temporary partner and she prayed--in so much as one can without actually believing in anything of the sort--that he wouldn’t pick this day to prove her wrong. She considers him Type O, compatible with everyone, and she’s done her damnedest to make him so. Her eyes are fixed on the screen as everything unfolds, breath held, glasses slipping down her nose before she finally removes them and shoves them nervously into a pocket on her lab coat.

Of course the battle is hard, and of course there are more screaming alarms than she honestly wants to deal with, but in the end? In the end he proves her right. He is the best damn ranger out there; let no one tell her differently. He’s become an obsession, a project, something she looks forward to every day. He’s unique, somehow kind but firm, and he never hesitates to do what needs to be done. He’s perfect, she thinks, and wonders if this is what affection feels like.

Because he’s different. He’s special.

And as she turns away from the screen, she thanks a god she doesn’t believe in for a man she’ll never have.

catherine x jacob | halo

[coffeebeforescience]

He would forever maintain that it was an accident. Somehow he didn't see the large, bright pink sun hat before he sat down to take a well-deserved nap. Perhaps he was too busy loosening his buttons and cursing suits unto the end of time. None of this changed the fact that Jacob Keyes, lowly soldier, ruined Catherine Halsey’s favorite accessory.

He’d mulled over a solution for days, dodging her scowls and looks of distaste, almost upset by her avoidance and lack of closeness while they were out scouting the children. It was as though he had wronged her so greatly that they might never put their act on appropriately again. He had made a huge mistake, and she had had to do her least favorite thing in the universe because of him: shopping. The dress was nothing without a hat, so she’d been forced to buy another dress for the remainder of the trip.

Unforgivable.

But he swore he would make it up to her. With her reluctant blessing, Jacob took his leave one afternoon, refusing to give up his itinerary and making few apologies. It afforded Catherine peace and quiet, time enough to pore over her results and draw conclusions on this fitness study they were on. Jacob, however, was on the most important mission of his life to date.

Hours later, worn down but feeling triumphant, he returned. In his hands, he held a large box, which he silently offered over to the curious doctor. She didn't seem eager to open it, still annoyed, and he frowned and cleared his throat as she set it aside, then waved him off. All feelings of victory were denied.

That is, until the next day, when the doctor emerged from her dressing area with a powder blue cloche atop her hastily styled hair.