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ajremixTitle: The Night Before
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2607
Characters: Carolina, York
Summary: Takes place before The Day After, but I still call it 'chapter 2'. It takes a couple missteps, but Carolina and York come to an understanding.
Despite the view, the Mother of Inventions's outer decks were often deserted. Most crewmembers stuck to the work and living areas situated further inside, straying toward the familiar as opposed to discovering the new. But Carolina preferred it that way. It meant she was left alone as she wandered the lowly lit halls, a solitary silhouette against the vastness of space. The ship sat stationary within an emission nebula, waiting for a team of Freelancers to come back from their mission. The ionized gases cast rectangles of light on the floor and as Carolina stood in the middle of one, she reached a hand toward the glass.
Ever since she joined Project Freelancer, she'd grown to hate how her hands looked without her armor. They were small, slender, the tips rounded and tapered, skin flawless, calluses smoothed out from constant glove-wear. They looked like they belonged to a desk jockey, someone's secretary, someone that never knew what it was like to fight for every inch they took. Watching the green light slip over the back of her hand and pool in her palm, Carolina tried to overlay it with the memory of her armor. The sound of the glove as her hand fisted, the gauntlet giving her wrist a capable breadth, the scratches and chipped paint telling the tale of her struggles.
She dropped her hand and lifted her head, sighing to herself. The moment was almost perfect. But she had no other option than to ruin it. "Are you done following me, York?"
There was a quiet curse and a moment's hesitation before said Freelancer eased carefully around a nearby corner, attempting and failing to seem nonchalant. "So... I was just in the area?"
"And what area was that?"
"Um, this one?"
Carolina turned to look at the man, unamused. "You don't even know where you are, do you?"
A grimace crossed York's face before he could stop it, hands jamming into his pockets. "I'm sure I can find my way back. Maybe."
"Isn't it poker night?" Why someone so bad at lying played poker, she had no idea. But then she supposed that's why no one ever called him out on card palming, even when he confessed to dabbling in it.
"The Director's got me running a gamut of training simulations tomorrow. Thought I should turn in early."
"Then shouldn't you be in your rack?"
"I was gonna, but then I saw you go by and you've been in a kind of a mood lately, so I thought I'd see how you're doing."
She sighed and went over to a bench overlooking the window. All her life Carolina had strived to be the best and York was competition- the only one capable of giving her competition. Yet, at the same time, he was the least competitive person she'd ever met. In training or on missions he always pushed his abilities to the limit, but outside of it? He was personable, accommodating, always the first to strike up a conversation, even if they were often one-sided. Though, as the program went on, other agents began talking back.
He had to have been the strangest person Carolina had never understood. When the eight best Freelancers were culled they interacted just enough to politely acknowledge each other. Until that bored York and now, through his influence, it seemed like friendships were actually forming. Despite the fact that they were all competing with each other, despite the fact they could very easily die in missions or in training as many other agents already had, they were socializing on a regular basis.
Except for Carolina. Socializing gave her no comfort. It made her feel awkward and too-aware of her shortcomings. She had no idea how she was suppose to reconcile her 'perfect field agent' persona in a relaxed environment like a poker game.
"Mind if I sit?"
Carolina's eyes flickered up to where York stood just outside of her personal space. He gave a small wave toward the spot on the bench next to her. "Go for it," she said, just because she couldn't think of a good reason not to.
"So what's eating you?"
"What makes you think anything is 'eating' me?"
"Like I said- a mood. You've been in one." He shifted his body to face more toward Carolina. "Anything you wanna talk about?"
In reply, Carolina just stared at him. After a few stretched seconds, York made a show of checking himself- his boots, hair, pants for embarrassing tears -before asking, "What?"
"I'm trying to figure you out."
"What's there to figure out? What you see is more or less what you get. I like being uncomplicated."
"And how am I supposed to believe that?"
Confusion creased York's brow. "How do you not believe it? Have you not caught on to the fact that I'm a bad liar yet? Can't really pretend to be what I'm not when I can't lie point blank, can I?"
There was always the chance that York merely pretended to be a bad liar in order to get through everyone's guard, but Carolina seriously doubted that was the case. There was a level of careless honesty in his eyes that she'd never seen on any pretender. Not that Carolina was going to just say she believed him, of course.
"I don't know," she said pointedly, "are you pretending?"
York's jaw clicked shut and he squinted at her, obviously trying to figure out if she was just messing with him or not. Eventually he just chuckled and shrugged. "You know what? If you think I've been faking all this time, I seriously doubt you're going to start believing me now so I'm not even going to try. You go have your aneurysm trying to figure me out, I'm not breaking a sweat." With a sideways look, he added, "But don't think that means I'm going to stop talking to you."
"And why, exactly, are you so determined to talk with me?"
"Maybe because I want to be friends? Because I like making friends?"
"Well too bad for you. I don't."
"You telling me you've never made one friend in your whole life?"
Carolina's mind automatically cast back to the few people she could call 'friend', the ones that had become so close that when the truth came out that they were just using her- her skills -she was devastated. She pushed it all back and said flatly, "I don't make work-related friends."
"Why not?"
Because they end up lying to me. "Because work is work. People only care about my being able to save their asses."
"So, what? Friendship and respect are mutually exclusive to you?"
"Alright then," she challenged, "name one thing you like about me that has nothing to do with my ability to beat the shit out of other people."
"I like watching you walk."
Carolina's spine straightened while York turned red. He slowly covered his face in one hand and said, "I can't believe I just said that."
"How I walk," she stated dryly. York just silently nodded. "How do I walk?"
"One foot in front of the other?"
She stared stonily at him.
The other Freelancer sighed and Carolina could see him mentally cursing his honesty. "It's just..." he finally moved his hand from his face, cheeks still burning as he tried to pantomime how Carolina moved. "The way your hips sway. It always- I mean, I can't help it! I grew up being told it's not polite to stare, but the way your... and your..." York managed, to Carolina's surprise, to turn even redder. "I sound like a huge creeper. I'm gonna stop now. Maybe throw myself out an airlock."
As he stood up, Carolina hooked a finger through a belt loop and pulled him back down. She couldn't articulate it without sounding, in her own mind, like she was desperate for a man's approval, but she was thankful that someone could openly acknowledge her femininity without decrying her toughness.
"You watch me when I walk?"
"Maybe," York tried to tug out of Carolina's grip.
"Why?"
He paused. "Why what?"
"Why would you watch me?"
"Um, why wouldn't I?"
Carolina let go of York's trousers, stretching out her legs and turning back to look out the window. "South has a better body, for one. Connie's a nicer person and if your interest extends to guys, you've got even more options there."
"Okay, one," he listed off, "the 'better body' thing is subjective. South may have bigger curves, but I don't really care for that. Two, Connie's a sweet kid, but she reminds me too much of a sister for anything more. Three- the guys have got nothing on you."
She smirked, "You've looked?"
In return, he scowled. Or at least attempted to through his own grin. "I know because there's no one else like you. You're amazing at everything you do. You care about the rest of us, even if you pretend you don't. You've got this dry, understated humor that comes out of nowhere. You're tough and determined and beautiful. You throw everything you have in anything you do, you have this graceful confidence I've never seen in anyone else before. You fear nothing, you fail at nothing and no matter what gets thrown your way, no matter what surprises might come up in mission, you've got it all taken care of. You're just so overwhelmingly amazing that I want to know everything about you."
Carolina just looked up at York, stunned at the flood of compliments. He seemed to realize what just happened and sat back on the bench saying, "Aaaaaand I can't believe I just said that, either."
"So," she said slowly, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and ask if you're attracted to me."
"What, me? Why would you- I mean, it's not like- tha- that's just crazy!"
Carolina just shook her head and chuckled to herself. "That's a yes."
The other Freelancer groaned, letting his head drop back over the top of the bench. "Okay, I'll admit that I find you attractive, but I'm honestly not trying to talk you up just for sex." York rolled over to sit sideways, a hand raking through his hair. "I really do want to be your friend."
"Yeah, well- it's not like any of my guy friends want to jump in my bed anyway."
"Why not?" Came the genuine question.
"Because most guys feel threatened knowing a girl is capable of pinning them down and ravishing them."
"Don't see why- that's a fantasy I could get behind."
"Me too, actually."
York stared at her. "Wait, wait- are you being the ravisher or ravishee in these fantasies?"
She gave a wicked grin. "What's wrong with both? A woman's got needs, after all."
There was a pause and she could see York's eyes going distant and color creeping along his ears and down his cheeks.
"You're imagining that, aren't you?"
"No!" He said far too quickly, red-faced again and spluttering for some kind of excuse. Carolina decided she liked seeing York off-balanced, the normally easy-going, quick-tongued Freelancer scrambling to find something to say. "You're doing this on purpose!"
She couldn't help but smirk. "Maybe."
York huffed and crossed his arms. "You're a terrible person." He tried to look put out but a grin was pulling at his lips.
"And you really are a terrible liar."
"At least you know what to expect from me." He grinned openly and Carolina wondered how she missed the moment he had gotten under her skin. He wore his smiles like a comfortable jacket- worn in all the right places and fitting so familiar and right. His eyes were deep set and sparkled playfully. He didn't react as others did around her, he was unafraid, unassuming, treating her as a human and not the Number One or the scary faceless agent that would beat anyone that got in her way.
She wondered if it was York's intrinsic good nature or his professed attraction to her that allowed him to view her as a person. Part of her wished others would be able to treat her the same way he did. Another part of her was secretly delighted at the idea that only he could see her like this. Only he could see this unguarded, fallible, human young woman that Carolina hid from the rest of the universe.
The short strands of hair on the back of York's neck were soft between her fingers and his lips were slightly dry but warm against hers and Carolina wasn't too certain when she started kissing York but it felt... right. Even if he wasn't exactly kissing back, there was just something about the way she had to angle her head, her arm over his shoulder and his scent filling her senses that seemed perfect.
When Carolina finally pulled back, York was still frozen there, looking at her utterly stunned. "I," he said numbly, "did not expect that."
Doubt started niggling at the back of her mind. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
Then, to her surprise, York's eyes turned hard, even a little hurt. "That's a cruel joke to play."
An eyebrow lifted, "Do you really think I'm the type of person to pull a joke like that?"
"I hope not," the look in his eyes didn't change, "but I never thought you'd actually kiss me, either!"
"Why not?"
"Because you never noticed me before!"
Now Carolina was the one feeling insulted. "I notice you! All the time!"
"Yeah- as the locksmith, the infiltration specialist, the Number Two. As the person you're most worried might take the top spot from you."
"At first, yes!" Then the truth started spilling out before Carolina was aware of it, before she even knew it was the truth. "Then I started noticing you as someone I could depend on, someone who I didn't have to watch out for or handhold through a mission. You... you became someone I could trust. Someone who took the time to make me have irrelevant conversations, even if I didn't want them. Someone who goes out of their way to make sure I feel comfortable. Someone that would listen if I ever talked about... well, all this." She dropped her eyes and felt a little mortified that she blurted all that out. She wondered if that was how York felt.
A hand wrapped around hers and Carolina looked up in surprise. York's expression was uncharacteristically serious, but his eyes were understanding and cautiously open. "Carolina, are we friends?"
"I... I don't know how to be a good friend."
"I'm the one that decides if you've been a good friend or not," York said gently, "but first I need to know if we are friends."
She looked into his eyes, as if searching for some ulterior motive that she knew wouldn't be there. "I'd like to be."
Then he smiled and Carolina could feel the warmth of it seeping through her chest. "Good," he leaned in sideways until his shoulder was braced against hers. His weight, too, felt perfect. "That's all I ever really wanted from you."
There was a pause and then Carolina asked with a note of knowing mischief, "That's all?"
"Well," she was rewarded by York's cheeks going red again, "anything else is just kind of a bonus, you know?"
Carolina just laughed and leaned right back against him. There, in the dark of the ship and glow of the nebula, with the sudden open understanding between them, with York's hand still holding hers, for the first time in a long, long while, Carolina was happy.
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2607
Characters: Carolina, York
Summary: Takes place before The Day After, but I still call it 'chapter 2'. It takes a couple missteps, but Carolina and York come to an understanding.
Despite the view, the Mother of Inventions's outer decks were often deserted. Most crewmembers stuck to the work and living areas situated further inside, straying toward the familiar as opposed to discovering the new. But Carolina preferred it that way. It meant she was left alone as she wandered the lowly lit halls, a solitary silhouette against the vastness of space. The ship sat stationary within an emission nebula, waiting for a team of Freelancers to come back from their mission. The ionized gases cast rectangles of light on the floor and as Carolina stood in the middle of one, she reached a hand toward the glass.
Ever since she joined Project Freelancer, she'd grown to hate how her hands looked without her armor. They were small, slender, the tips rounded and tapered, skin flawless, calluses smoothed out from constant glove-wear. They looked like they belonged to a desk jockey, someone's secretary, someone that never knew what it was like to fight for every inch they took. Watching the green light slip over the back of her hand and pool in her palm, Carolina tried to overlay it with the memory of her armor. The sound of the glove as her hand fisted, the gauntlet giving her wrist a capable breadth, the scratches and chipped paint telling the tale of her struggles.
She dropped her hand and lifted her head, sighing to herself. The moment was almost perfect. But she had no other option than to ruin it. "Are you done following me, York?"
There was a quiet curse and a moment's hesitation before said Freelancer eased carefully around a nearby corner, attempting and failing to seem nonchalant. "So... I was just in the area?"
"And what area was that?"
"Um, this one?"
Carolina turned to look at the man, unamused. "You don't even know where you are, do you?"
A grimace crossed York's face before he could stop it, hands jamming into his pockets. "I'm sure I can find my way back. Maybe."
"Isn't it poker night?" Why someone so bad at lying played poker, she had no idea. But then she supposed that's why no one ever called him out on card palming, even when he confessed to dabbling in it.
"The Director's got me running a gamut of training simulations tomorrow. Thought I should turn in early."
"Then shouldn't you be in your rack?"
"I was gonna, but then I saw you go by and you've been in a kind of a mood lately, so I thought I'd see how you're doing."
She sighed and went over to a bench overlooking the window. All her life Carolina had strived to be the best and York was competition- the only one capable of giving her competition. Yet, at the same time, he was the least competitive person she'd ever met. In training or on missions he always pushed his abilities to the limit, but outside of it? He was personable, accommodating, always the first to strike up a conversation, even if they were often one-sided. Though, as the program went on, other agents began talking back.
He had to have been the strangest person Carolina had never understood. When the eight best Freelancers were culled they interacted just enough to politely acknowledge each other. Until that bored York and now, through his influence, it seemed like friendships were actually forming. Despite the fact that they were all competing with each other, despite the fact they could very easily die in missions or in training as many other agents already had, they were socializing on a regular basis.
Except for Carolina. Socializing gave her no comfort. It made her feel awkward and too-aware of her shortcomings. She had no idea how she was suppose to reconcile her 'perfect field agent' persona in a relaxed environment like a poker game.
"Mind if I sit?"
Carolina's eyes flickered up to where York stood just outside of her personal space. He gave a small wave toward the spot on the bench next to her. "Go for it," she said, just because she couldn't think of a good reason not to.
"So what's eating you?"
"What makes you think anything is 'eating' me?"
"Like I said- a mood. You've been in one." He shifted his body to face more toward Carolina. "Anything you wanna talk about?"
In reply, Carolina just stared at him. After a few stretched seconds, York made a show of checking himself- his boots, hair, pants for embarrassing tears -before asking, "What?"
"I'm trying to figure you out."
"What's there to figure out? What you see is more or less what you get. I like being uncomplicated."
"And how am I supposed to believe that?"
Confusion creased York's brow. "How do you not believe it? Have you not caught on to the fact that I'm a bad liar yet? Can't really pretend to be what I'm not when I can't lie point blank, can I?"
There was always the chance that York merely pretended to be a bad liar in order to get through everyone's guard, but Carolina seriously doubted that was the case. There was a level of careless honesty in his eyes that she'd never seen on any pretender. Not that Carolina was going to just say she believed him, of course.
"I don't know," she said pointedly, "are you pretending?"
York's jaw clicked shut and he squinted at her, obviously trying to figure out if she was just messing with him or not. Eventually he just chuckled and shrugged. "You know what? If you think I've been faking all this time, I seriously doubt you're going to start believing me now so I'm not even going to try. You go have your aneurysm trying to figure me out, I'm not breaking a sweat." With a sideways look, he added, "But don't think that means I'm going to stop talking to you."
"And why, exactly, are you so determined to talk with me?"
"Maybe because I want to be friends? Because I like making friends?"
"Well too bad for you. I don't."
"You telling me you've never made one friend in your whole life?"
Carolina's mind automatically cast back to the few people she could call 'friend', the ones that had become so close that when the truth came out that they were just using her- her skills -she was devastated. She pushed it all back and said flatly, "I don't make work-related friends."
"Why not?"
Because they end up lying to me. "Because work is work. People only care about my being able to save their asses."
"So, what? Friendship and respect are mutually exclusive to you?"
"Alright then," she challenged, "name one thing you like about me that has nothing to do with my ability to beat the shit out of other people."
"I like watching you walk."
Carolina's spine straightened while York turned red. He slowly covered his face in one hand and said, "I can't believe I just said that."
"How I walk," she stated dryly. York just silently nodded. "How do I walk?"
"One foot in front of the other?"
She stared stonily at him.
The other Freelancer sighed and Carolina could see him mentally cursing his honesty. "It's just..." he finally moved his hand from his face, cheeks still burning as he tried to pantomime how Carolina moved. "The way your hips sway. It always- I mean, I can't help it! I grew up being told it's not polite to stare, but the way your... and your..." York managed, to Carolina's surprise, to turn even redder. "I sound like a huge creeper. I'm gonna stop now. Maybe throw myself out an airlock."
As he stood up, Carolina hooked a finger through a belt loop and pulled him back down. She couldn't articulate it without sounding, in her own mind, like she was desperate for a man's approval, but she was thankful that someone could openly acknowledge her femininity without decrying her toughness.
"You watch me when I walk?"
"Maybe," York tried to tug out of Carolina's grip.
"Why?"
He paused. "Why what?"
"Why would you watch me?"
"Um, why wouldn't I?"
Carolina let go of York's trousers, stretching out her legs and turning back to look out the window. "South has a better body, for one. Connie's a nicer person and if your interest extends to guys, you've got even more options there."
"Okay, one," he listed off, "the 'better body' thing is subjective. South may have bigger curves, but I don't really care for that. Two, Connie's a sweet kid, but she reminds me too much of a sister for anything more. Three- the guys have got nothing on you."
She smirked, "You've looked?"
In return, he scowled. Or at least attempted to through his own grin. "I know because there's no one else like you. You're amazing at everything you do. You care about the rest of us, even if you pretend you don't. You've got this dry, understated humor that comes out of nowhere. You're tough and determined and beautiful. You throw everything you have in anything you do, you have this graceful confidence I've never seen in anyone else before. You fear nothing, you fail at nothing and no matter what gets thrown your way, no matter what surprises might come up in mission, you've got it all taken care of. You're just so overwhelmingly amazing that I want to know everything about you."
Carolina just looked up at York, stunned at the flood of compliments. He seemed to realize what just happened and sat back on the bench saying, "Aaaaaand I can't believe I just said that, either."
"So," she said slowly, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and ask if you're attracted to me."
"What, me? Why would you- I mean, it's not like- tha- that's just crazy!"
Carolina just shook her head and chuckled to herself. "That's a yes."
The other Freelancer groaned, letting his head drop back over the top of the bench. "Okay, I'll admit that I find you attractive, but I'm honestly not trying to talk you up just for sex." York rolled over to sit sideways, a hand raking through his hair. "I really do want to be your friend."
"Yeah, well- it's not like any of my guy friends want to jump in my bed anyway."
"Why not?" Came the genuine question.
"Because most guys feel threatened knowing a girl is capable of pinning them down and ravishing them."
"Don't see why- that's a fantasy I could get behind."
"Me too, actually."
York stared at her. "Wait, wait- are you being the ravisher or ravishee in these fantasies?"
She gave a wicked grin. "What's wrong with both? A woman's got needs, after all."
There was a pause and she could see York's eyes going distant and color creeping along his ears and down his cheeks.
"You're imagining that, aren't you?"
"No!" He said far too quickly, red-faced again and spluttering for some kind of excuse. Carolina decided she liked seeing York off-balanced, the normally easy-going, quick-tongued Freelancer scrambling to find something to say. "You're doing this on purpose!"
She couldn't help but smirk. "Maybe."
York huffed and crossed his arms. "You're a terrible person." He tried to look put out but a grin was pulling at his lips.
"And you really are a terrible liar."
"At least you know what to expect from me." He grinned openly and Carolina wondered how she missed the moment he had gotten under her skin. He wore his smiles like a comfortable jacket- worn in all the right places and fitting so familiar and right. His eyes were deep set and sparkled playfully. He didn't react as others did around her, he was unafraid, unassuming, treating her as a human and not the Number One or the scary faceless agent that would beat anyone that got in her way.
She wondered if it was York's intrinsic good nature or his professed attraction to her that allowed him to view her as a person. Part of her wished others would be able to treat her the same way he did. Another part of her was secretly delighted at the idea that only he could see her like this. Only he could see this unguarded, fallible, human young woman that Carolina hid from the rest of the universe.
The short strands of hair on the back of York's neck were soft between her fingers and his lips were slightly dry but warm against hers and Carolina wasn't too certain when she started kissing York but it felt... right. Even if he wasn't exactly kissing back, there was just something about the way she had to angle her head, her arm over his shoulder and his scent filling her senses that seemed perfect.
When Carolina finally pulled back, York was still frozen there, looking at her utterly stunned. "I," he said numbly, "did not expect that."
Doubt started niggling at the back of her mind. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
Then, to her surprise, York's eyes turned hard, even a little hurt. "That's a cruel joke to play."
An eyebrow lifted, "Do you really think I'm the type of person to pull a joke like that?"
"I hope not," the look in his eyes didn't change, "but I never thought you'd actually kiss me, either!"
"Why not?"
"Because you never noticed me before!"
Now Carolina was the one feeling insulted. "I notice you! All the time!"
"Yeah- as the locksmith, the infiltration specialist, the Number Two. As the person you're most worried might take the top spot from you."
"At first, yes!" Then the truth started spilling out before Carolina was aware of it, before she even knew it was the truth. "Then I started noticing you as someone I could depend on, someone who I didn't have to watch out for or handhold through a mission. You... you became someone I could trust. Someone who took the time to make me have irrelevant conversations, even if I didn't want them. Someone who goes out of their way to make sure I feel comfortable. Someone that would listen if I ever talked about... well, all this." She dropped her eyes and felt a little mortified that she blurted all that out. She wondered if that was how York felt.
A hand wrapped around hers and Carolina looked up in surprise. York's expression was uncharacteristically serious, but his eyes were understanding and cautiously open. "Carolina, are we friends?"
"I... I don't know how to be a good friend."
"I'm the one that decides if you've been a good friend or not," York said gently, "but first I need to know if we are friends."
She looked into his eyes, as if searching for some ulterior motive that she knew wouldn't be there. "I'd like to be."
Then he smiled and Carolina could feel the warmth of it seeping through her chest. "Good," he leaned in sideways until his shoulder was braced against hers. His weight, too, felt perfect. "That's all I ever really wanted from you."
There was a pause and then Carolina asked with a note of knowing mischief, "That's all?"
"Well," she was rewarded by York's cheeks going red again, "anything else is just kind of a bonus, you know?"
Carolina just laughed and leaned right back against him. There, in the dark of the ship and glow of the nebula, with the sudden open understanding between them, with York's hand still holding hers, for the first time in a long, long while, Carolina was happy.
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Date: 2011-12-26 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-26 09:17 pm (UTC)