#Octave Chastain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stupid-jeans · 6 years

Text

fight just a little ch3 (Cassie Conner/Hannah Rivera)

I’m writing other things, too, I swear. But between the triggerfest of the weekend and a sick baby who’s not sleeping much, I’ve been super tapped out. So you get more girls kissing. Like...a lot of kissing.

Co-written by the incredible @icarryyourheart16 and beta’d by the amazing @undercoverwatermoon

On AO3 here

Summary/Notes: There's a lot of making out. And a little bit of drama. As Lilly, our incomparable beta, says: "these CIA girls are a mess". Umm yep.Also, just for reference, this puts us at...page 46 of 77 (so far). We're having fun. :)This chapter is a little bit on the "yum" side in parts and may be questionable for reading in mixed company. But I'm keeping the rating where it is because they're still just making out. Hotly.

There’s a copy of an apartment lease sitting on top of the envelope that holds her new orders. It’s for a year, but Cassie isn’t as apprehensive about it as she thought she would be. It was the last apartment complex Hannah had taken her to. The apartment wasn’t much different from the others, although it came with a kickass gym that included a variety of free weights and a boxing bag, but it had felt right the moment she stepped into it. Large bay windows lit the place up, and it was quiet enough that she wouldn’t feel too annoyed with city noise. It also had the added bonus of being a mere 20 minutes from Hannah’s place.

Cassie can see herself settling in nicely there, and it will be a good home base for when she returns to the field.

The blender whirs loudly and Cassie keeps a steady hand on the lid. They’re on their second round of daiquiris and she feels the slight buzz of alcohol. It’s not nearly enough to get her drunk, she sticks to vodka for that, but it adds to the celebratory mood.

When Cassie hands Hannah her drink in the brightly colored plastic cup she sits close enough that their thighs brush. She chases a new high now, the fluttery feelings of a burgeoning relationship.

“Ok. Marry, Fuck, Kill. Jessica Alba, Jessica Biel, Jessica Chastain.”

“Oooh, asking the hard questions.” Hannah laughs and sips her drink, leaning into Cassie a little. “Hmmm. Fuck Alba, kill Biel, marry Chastain. I have a thing for redheads. Okay, your turn. Umm. Anna Kendrick, Mila Kunis, Olivia Wilde.”

Admittedly, she feels a little silly, sitting here, playing a game she hasn't played since college. But it makes her giddy, too, because it's so deliciously normal. There will undoubtedly be fallout, eventually. Two steps forward, one step back is a familiar pattern by now. But for tonight, Hannah feels powerful and happy and alive. And that is really something.

Cassie smiles at that. “Easy. Kill Anna, never trust a redhead. Fuck Olivia, and marry Mila. You could say I have a thing for smart sexy brunettes.”

Hannah is practically glowing, and Cassie feels enchanted by her. The buzz of alcohol in her blood makes her a little bolder, and she reaches out, sliding her fingers through the ends of her hair.

Of course it feels like fucking silk.

“What shampoo do you use?”

Cassie’s eyes widen slightly in horror. Smooth. She thinks. Something about Hannah turns her into a bit of a bumbling mess.

Cassie’s touch inspires nothing but a soft pull of want somewhere in the pit of her stomach. Hannah’s own hand lifts to rest on Cassie’s leg.

“It's a salon brand,” she admits, a little sheepishly. “Part of my homework in the beginning was finding ways to take care of myself. I go to a fancy place in Shirlington, and get my hair done. I use whatever they tell me. There's a decent chance they're just using me for my money but it feels...good.”

“Well it makes you smell amazing, for what it’s worth,” Cassie says, and Hannah’s hand on her thigh is just distracting enough that she loses focus for a moment.

She wants to probe deeper, and ask what happened, more than the little hints Hannah has dropped, but she looks so carefree and happy at the moment. Cassie doesn’t want to bring the heaviness back, not tonight. They both deserve a little softness.

The part of her that feels protective over Hannah, and gets a bit riled every time there’s a hint of sadness in Hannah’s eyes, wants to know the name of every person involved and hunt them down. Anger shoots through her and is gone so quickly she feels somewhat shaky. Deep down she knows her anger is for both of them, and try as she might, she can’t seem to bury what happened to her. Cassie wants nothing more than to forget.

Her eyes drop to Hannah’s mouth and dart away. The woman is intoxicating.

“You came out of it stronger,” Cassie says finally. She wants Hannah to know it.

“You too,” she murmurs, almost looking away but changing her mind. Cassie deserves to be stared at. Hannah’s teeth catch on her bottom lip briefly before her tongue follows and all she can think about is how long it's been since she's just wanted to kiss someone. “God, you're distracting,” she breathes, mostly to herself.

Cassie hadn’t planned on kissing Hannah tonight. She was going to wait until she didn’t feel so damn open and vulnerable to her. But the way Hannah’s voice drops an octave, and her tongue sneaks out to wet her lips has Cassie’s own breath slowing. She wants her.

She lifts a hand to cup Hannah’s jaw, and her fingers slide into her hair. Although desire clouds her thoughts, she pauses with her lips millimeters from Hannah’s. Instinct tells her to not push too hard too fast.

“Is this okay?” She asks, her heart thumping hard against her chest.

A soft sort of half-whimper escapes her because of course Cassie would ask. Of course she would. And Hannah can't form a coherent word just now, so she closes the remaining gap between them instead.

Cassie’s mouth is soft and warm and tastes faintly of fruit and alcohol. Hannah’s fingers curl against Cassie’s thigh and her other hand lifts to Cassie’s arm, grasping her wrist. Hannah’s lips part just slightly, capturing Cassie’s top one and the small part of Hannah’s brain that can form rational thoughts remembers why Hannah had loved this, once upon a time. How she'd forgotten, in her self-care regimen, that being close to another person--being intimate--is an integral part of who she is.

Cassie’s hand fists in Hannah’s hair, and she groans slightly, because damnit if the feel of Hannah’s lips against her own isn’t the most intoxicating thing she’s ever felt. She slides a hand gently up Hannah’s side, and rests it at her waist, trying to contain the roar of desire. When Hannah’s lips part under her own, her breath stutters, and she tugs her closer. She nips lightly at Hannah’s lower lip, lost in her. Cassie’s not sure why the kiss affects her like this. There’s an intimacy here that she’s not used to, and she’s a little taken aback to realize she doesn’t feel like running. She feels safe.

Hearing Cassie, feeling the quiet groan that slips from her throat, only spurs Hannah on and she shivers, just barely flicking her tongue out, teasing. She strokes her fingers down Cassie’s arm, keeping the other where it is, wary of touching more of her, hurting her accidentally. As badly as she wants Cassie, this is so much more than enough. And that nearly stops Hannah in her tracks, because slow isn't something she historically does in the intimacy department. But that was before. Now she's here, with this impossibly brave, strong, gorgeous woman, and this is different.

Hannah is warm and soft, and she smells so fucking good Cassie can’t think straight. Pulsing waves of heat unfurl in her and she sweeps her thumb over Hannah’s jaw, and her tongue slicks over Hannah’s. The teasing is going to be the death of her. Hannah’s fingers on her arm are so light, and Cassie wants so much more, that she forgets for a second about keeping things chaste, sweet.

She had a plan damnit. Cassie pushes Hannah back against the arm of the couch, and presses a palm to her thigh. She breaks away to catch her breath, but her mouth finds the soft skin of Hannah’s shoulder instead. Cassie presses a light open mouthed kiss there, and then she slides back, closing her eyes.

“God Hannah.”

It takes more than a couple of seconds for Hannah to open her eyes. Her breathing’s still shallow, her cheeks flushed, and the way Cassie’s looking at her definitely doesn't help.

“Fuck,” she whispers, tipping her head back and laughing as her hand covers Cassie’s, pressing it tighter against her.

The heat bleeds through her jeans, into her skin, into her bones, and Hannah’s dizzy with the knowledge that Cassie wants her.

“Hearing you say my name like that shouldn't…” she trails off, shaking her head, finally lifting it again to meet Cassie’s impossibly blue eyes, which are so much darker than she remembers them being ten minutes ago. “It's going to make me insane, but God, I want to keep kissing you.”

Cassie bites her lip to keep her mind from forming images of Hannah with her head thrown back like that, while she’s got her mouth on her. She wants to hear the sounds she’ll make as she drives her closer to the edge. Because Hannah is irresistible with her cheeks tinged pink and her lips slightly swollen, Cassie covers her mouth with hers again.

She’s a little rougher now, as her self control teeters on the edge.The fingers on Hannah’s thigh clench as she feels herself losing the battle. Her hand moves under the edge of Hannah’s shirt and she strokes the soft skin there with the tips of her fingers. It takes everything in her not to push further, to wait. Somehow, she knows it’s important not to turn this into every other relationship she’s had. If you could even call them that.

Cassie pulls back, and her lips press to Hannah’s temple.

“You started driving me insane the moment you hit on me while I was still recovering from a bullet wound in the hospital,” Cassie breathes against her hair, a smile hovering on her lips as she pulls Hannah against her.

“You sure know how to woo a girl, Conner,” Hannah murmurs, sliding her fingers into Cassie's hair, enjoying her closeness. It takes a surprisingly long time to realize how close Cassie’s fingers are to the scar that cuts across her abdomen. It's jagged and ugly and seeing it every day makes her sick. But right now, she's not thinking about that. She's thinking about how good Cassie’s hands feel, how she wishes she could feel all of her.

Now it’s Cassie’s turn to tremble as Hannah moves her fingers through her hair. The couch holds them both, but barely, and Cassie isn’t ready to let go of Hannah yet. She presses another kiss to Hannah’s brow, because the girl makes her soft in a way she hasn’t been in years.

“Stay with me tonight?” Cassie whispers.

“Just to stay, as much as I want you, physical activity is still mostly limited.” Cassie adds as she pats the bandage at her hip.

“That's a can of worms you don't want to open yet anyway,” Hannah sighs, settling more fully into Cassie, finding all the ways the other woman’s body complements her own. “I’ll stay. Gladly. Holding you all night sounds kind of perfect, actually.” She tips her head enough to nuzzle Cassie’s neck, her lips gently ghosting the skin over her pulse.

Cassie eyes flutter closed on a soft moan as Hannah’s lips skim the sensitive point in her neck.

“You’re going to be the death of me Rivera,” she says as she tugs Hannah up from the couch and leads her to the bed. She tucks them both under the covers, and hooks a leg around Hannah’s, pulling her solidly against her while running gentle fingers along Hannah’s side.

Hannah’s first comment is niggling at the back of her mind, and she’s not sure how to respond. She knows her gut instinct had been right, that pushing things too far wouldn’t work tonight, and she thinks what makes her protective of Hannah may also be what makes Hannah feel like she’s still a bit broken.

Cassie frowns slightly and tips Hannah’s face up to hers.

“What did you mean by that?” Cassie asks. “What can of worms?” Her eyes are on Hannah’s now, and she smooths Hannah’s hair back, hoping to soothe away any anxiety Hannah might be feeling.

There's never exactly a good time to discuss trauma. She remembers telling Thea, filling in the blanks, and laughing over it. Because laughing was easier than dealing with the pain. But she's come a long way since then.

She takes Cassie's hand and draws it under her shirt, pressing her fingers gently to the edge of the scar. There are a dozen more, but this is the one she hates the most.

“I was working a cartel in Mexico. Over a year, and everything was perfect. And then some asshole ran his mouth on a hunch. Those guys...paranoid is an understatement. So they stop in the middle of the highway, in the middle of the night. They beat the shit out of me, break a few ribs, my arm, couple fingers...and then the knives. Sends a kind of message, right?” She exhales shakily, tears burning behind her closed eyes. It's better than the numbness, but she hates it all the same.

She swallows hard as she lets Hannah guide her hand across raised skin. Hannah’s face tells her everything, and there’s pain and disgust there. Cassie presses a light kiss to her hair in a attempt to soothe away the hurt. She knows it can’t fix what happened, but it’s the only way she can show she cares.

Part of her hates herself for making Hannah relive the pain from her past, but she rides on instinct, knowing that Hannah needs the chance to tell her, to speak the pain.

As Cassie fills in the pieces of what Hannah doesn’t say, she feels the rage building in her, and it’s so potent at first she has trouble staying in place and being there for Hannah. The tears glistening in Hannah’s lashes weaken her, and Cassie forces herself to listen for once, instead of trying to jump into action and fix everything.

“Those knives marked your skin Hannah, not you,” Cassie murmurs, and she wants to crush Hannah to her and pull all the hurt into herself, so Hannah will never have a reason to cry again.

“Tell me what hurts you Hannah,” Cassie says, because she knows there’s more.

“If I hadn’t fought it, if I’d just laid there...that stupid scar wouldn’t be so fucking ugly.” It sounds so incredibly stupid to say it, but the words lift a weight that’s been bearing down on her for so, so long. “It would’ve killed me. In my head, I know that. But it’s all I can think about every single time I look at myself in the mirror. I feel...like an imposter. Like when people look at me, they see the old me. But as soon as they get close I get so fucking scared. The idea of them seeing me...of you seeing me…” Her voice falters and Hannah wipes furiously at her eyes. “I don’t know what’s scarier--the idea of you seeing that and running away or the idea of you seeing that and sticking around. And that? Jesus, that’s never been me. I hate that those fucking low-level monsters still have that kind of power over me. I hate it.”

For all the hours of therapy she’s been through, Hannah hasn’t felt this raw in a long time. It’s not where she meant to end up tonight. She’d wanted to crawl into bed with Cassie and kiss her and tease her until they couldn’t stand it anymore, and fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. But now she’s a trembling, crying mess and Cassie’s still healing from a bullet wound, being shot down from the sky, and watching all of her friends die and Hannah kind of hates the world a little bit.

For a moment, all Cassie can do is press her lips together and fight the tears in her own eyes. She’s absolutely gutted by the raw hurt in Hannah’s voice.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Cassie murmurs. “I told you, I don’t scare easy.” She closes her eyes and prays instinct will help her make the right move here, because the last thing she wants to do is hurt Hannah more.

She whips the comforter off them and moves Hannah’s shirt gently away so she can look at the scar there. It’s not pretty. She won’t lie and say it is.

“You know what I see when I look at you? I see a woman who fights back, no matter what, and that’s beautiful.” She kisses the tears from Hannah’s cheeks.

“You’re not an imposter Hannah. You’re real, and you’re you, and that’s enough. I want to be here for all of that,” Cassie says, and she realizes with a sinking sort of certainty that it’s true, and she’s afraid of it, but a part of her that’s been dead for so long is cracking open again. It feels a lot like hope.

Hannah cradles Cassie’s face, keeping her close, breathing her in. She’s not anxious or panicked, just a little scared and a little exhausted and a lot grateful for whatever crazy instinct had meant tracking Cassie across the ocean, because now they’re here.

“That’s a pretty big commitment,” she says finally, voice hoarse with tears. She swallows and licks her lips, tugging Cassie down on top of her, just to be close to her again. “Considering you have no idea if I’m any good in bed.”

The levity is desperately needed to bring them back to something resembling solid ground, but Hannah takes Cassie’s words to heart, lets the truth in them take root in her chest.

Cassie laughs lightly at that.

“I have good instincts,” she says, and she drops a kiss to Hannah’s shoulder. She loves the way Hannah feels under her, and she presses her face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent.

“Mmm, we’ll see. Thank you for today.” The fingers she’s twined into Cassie’s hair stroke down the back of her neck instead, a small, pleasant shiver working down her spine at the feel of the other woman’s lips on her skin.

Cassie smiles against her shoulder, distracted by the way Hannah’s fingers travel down her neck. She grabs Hannah’s wrist and presses it gently back onto the bed.

“If you keep touching me like that I’m going to go a little crazy,” Cassie whispers, trailing her lips along Hannah’s shoulder to her collarbone.

Hannah’s smirk is almost immediately erased by the heat of Cassie’s mouth. She flexes her fingers, testing Cassie’s grip.

“Maybe I like making you crazy,” she murmurs, her other hand skimming the slope of Cassie’s spine, fingers creeping under the edge of her shirt, and God, is that a mistake because Cassie is so damn soft and warm and perfect that Hannah only wants more.

Cassie lets out a choked breath and presses her lips to Hannah’s jaw.

“Mission fucking accomplished,” she says, and she’s quick when she grabs Hannah’s other wrist to pin it to the bed.

Cassie decides she likes her like that, a little flushed and looking up at her. Her lips drop to the top of Hannah’s breast and she presses light kisses there, before lifting her head because god knows she’ll lose control if she keeps roaming lower. Her thigh moves between Hannah’s legs and she kisses the side of Hannah’s neck below the ear.

“If I let you go will you keep your hands to yourself?” she asks, an amused grin on her face.

Hannah’s breathing goes audibly ragged and she nearly writhes under Cassie. Her fingers already itch to touch her again and she struggles a little against Cassie’s grip.

“Not a chance,” she purrs, allowing herself exactly one careful roll of her hips before stilling again. “Jesus, Cassie.”

Cassie groans as Hannah moves against her, and laughs at Hannah’s refusal to cooperate, pressing her wrists down a little harder to still them.

“I shouldn’t have expected that to work.” Cassie says lightly, kissing Hannah’s cheek and rolling off her before releasing her wrists. She pulls Hannah close and curls her body against her. It takes more than a few minutes for Cassie to settle down, but her breath begins to sync with Hannah’s as she feels herself slipping into sleep. -------------------------------------

Going back to sleeping alone in her own bed feels absurdly lonely after that. Hannah wakes up in the morning, reaching for Cassie, only to find no one there, and it always makes her feel a little silly.

But work is busy and she sees Cassie every couple of days, even if it's just for coffee. She's happy and that's something she thought would take a lot more time.

They go furniture shopping and try out every piece in the store, imagining what kind of people spend five figures on a living room. After the third store, Hannah makes an executive decision to go to Ikea.

“You know, last time I was here, I had a meltdown picking out a comforter,” she admits with a soft laugh. “So whatever happens, today should at least be better than that. Also, any trip to Ikea requires cinnamon buns, so there's that.”

It's strange, though, to think about being back here. It makes her think about how far she's come, how far she has yet to go.

“Ready?”

“You read my mind,” she says as she leans over to give Hannah a quick kiss. The easy affection is new for her, and it still sits a little uncomfortably, like a cover she hasn’t fully eased into, but she likes the way it makes her feel.

She’s been able to move into her apartment for exactly three days now, and so far she’s yet to spend the night there. It was easy enough to use the excuse that she had no furniture, but those excuses ran out the minute Hannah had suggested their current excursion.

Cassie shakes herself out of the thoughts swirling in her mind and tries to focus on the task at hand.

“Hey. It’s just furniture, remember?” Hannah reminds her. “This feels like a big deal. I get that. But it’s just...stuff. Stuff you can’t pronounce that’s impossible to put together. But it’s just stuff.”

As soon as they’re out of the car, Hannah reaches for Cassie’s hand. She’s still relishing the normalcy of being able to do that.

“Let’s go show that furniture who’s boss.”

Cassie laughs at that and leans her head briefly against Hannah’s shoulder.

“Just stuff,” she repeats, and shakes her head at herself. There is no reason to feel so edgy about filling a room with things. Hasn’t she spent hours waiting between missions flipping through all those house and home type magazines, idly wishing she had a place to put things as impractical as a bowl filled with decorative balls?

“I hope you have practice putting those things together, because I am planning on drinking a celebratory beer, or three, and slightly drunk furniture building sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

“Oh, is that all I’m good for?” Hannah teases. “Putting furniture together? Should’ve known. Anyway, all I care about is the bed. Everything else can wait.” She means it innocently enough (relatively, anyway), but maybe it’ll at least offer Cassie a suitable distraction from the task at hand.

Cassie smirks and leans into Hannah “I’ll make sure to get a headboard you can grab onto.” The thought of Hannah in her bed is distracting enough that Cassie walks into the furniture warehouse without tensing as she had in the other stores.

There is an overwhelming amount of furniture, and Cassie stares blankly for a moment before busily scribbling down numbers. In another time and place she would have been concerned about complementary colors and matching tones, but here all she cares about is checking items off the list. She’s at least relatively sure they are all black.

They end up at the beds and Cassie gives Hannah a sidelong glance. “That one has slats,” she says in a playfully seductive voice.

Hannah actually giggles at that, wondering how long it’s been since someone made her do that in public.

“Getting ideas, are we?” She fingers the top of the frame, cocking a brow at Cassie. “What kind are we talking about? Handcuffs? Leather? Scarves?” They’ve still only kissed and it’s perfect and maddening all at once. Still, she loves the safety that comes with flirting free of expectations.

Cassie snorts and eyes the bed frame skeptically, and knocks on the wood.

“I have a great scarf collection,” she says playfully, and walks over to stand beside Hannah.

“As tempting as this is, trying to put that headboard together looks like a mess.” Cassie nods to the bed a few feet away with a solid base and headboard. “That on the other hand, looks like my kind of project.”

Her list of furniture looks long enough, and she gestures to Hannah.

“I need a cinnamon roll.”

“See, this is why I like you. You’re smart,” Hannah sighs with a smile, reaching for Cassie again, kissing her cheek. “Let’s get a dozen. We can take the rest home and celebrate another victory.”

The snack break is much needed, physically and mentally, and Hannah nudges Cassie under the cafe table as they finish off their treat.

“I’m proud of you, you know. Not just today. Everything.”

Cassie bites her lip and presses a kiss to Hannah’s temple as she stands.

“Thank you,” she says, and she means it, because if it were anyone else she would be ashamed of something as simple as picking out furniture being such a big deal to her. Cassie turns from Hannah as she bags their things, frustrated with her own lack of progress, and that same edge of irritation creeps under her skin.

By the time she turns back to Hannah, her face is placid, and she reaches out a hand to her.

“I’ve got an entire truck full of furniture to build, and if I’m going to sleep in a bed tonight we should get started,” Cassie says.

------------------------------------------

Her apartment is an absolute mess. There’s packaging littering the floor, and a empty beer bottle sits on a questionably built coffee table.

Cassie stares at the chair she put together and tilts her head. She’s pretty sure the backrest is not supposed to be on the same side as a pair of legs.

“Well, what the fuck,” she mutters.

“That’s...something,” Hannah remarks from the doorway, leaning against the frame with a smile as she watches Cassie huff in frustration. She crosses the room and slips her arms around her girlfriend from behind, resting her chin on Cassie’s shoulder. “It’s artsy. I like it.”

Cassie smirks and nudges the chair with her foot.

“Artsy isn’t gonna make for a good chair,” she says, and leans her head back.

“Please tell me you’ve had better luck with the bed.I can handle a few pathetic chairs if my bed is working.” Cassie’s eyes travel to the to the couch she spent nearly an hour fuming over.

“I built one good couch, that’s all I have in me.”

“That’s enough,” Hannah says, nuzzling Cassie’s neck just to breathe her in and press a gentle kiss to her skin. “Come see.”

Thankfully, Cassie’s instincts had been right and the bed was mostly simple to assemble. Hannah had tucked it against the wall and made it up with freshly laundered, impossibly soft sheets that still somehow smell like Cassie, even brand new. To her, it feels homey. She hopes her girlfriend feels the same.

“Ta da.” It’s weird, the kind of things that become triggers, so Hannah stays close and stays quiet and just lets Cassie look.

Cassie smiles softly and leans her head against Hannah’s shoulder. Some of the tension drains from her as she looks at the bed Hannah built. It’s everything that’s thoughtful about Hannah, right down to the sheets tucked neatly over the bed.

She turns and presses a quick kiss to Hannah’s mouth and steps back grinning.

“It’s perfect, just like you.” Cassie walks Hannah back to the bed so her knees bump against the edge, and gives her a light push.

“You could help me break it in,” Cassie suggests, and because she knows Hannah needs time, she clarifies. “Sleeping and cuddling, to be specific.”

“Perfect is a stretch. There were a few screws left over. It's probably fine,” Hannah teases, taking the hint and sinking back onto the bed with an appreciative groan. “God, that's nice. Apparently I need to hit the gym more often. I hurt.” She looks up at Cassie, reaching out for her. “C’mere, baby.”

Cassie restrains herself from leaping onto the bed and devouring Hannah, and instead eases down slowly, pressing a light kiss to Hannah’s lips.

“As long as it lasts the six months I’m fine.” Cassie says, crawling onto the bed and tugging Hannah down with her. She’s still a little sweaty and covered in a fair amount of sawdust from building furniture. There’s a shower in her near future, but for now, all she wants to do is hold Hannah and work through the stupid part of her that still feels trapped by some badly assembled chairs and an apartment in her name.

“How the hell are you so damn beautiful after slogging through furniture stores with me all day, and then building an entire bed by yourself?” Cassie demands.

“Same way you are after going off-book and constructing the most impressive non-chair I've ever seen,” Hannah replies, nuzzling her cheek. She pushes away the unexpected sadness that comes from Cassie’s imminent departure. Six months is a long time. “Kind of want to kiss you forever, kind of want a shower, kind of want a nap, kind of want something containing alcohol. How about you?” Her hands slip easily under Cassie’s shirt, innocently tracing her hips and lower back.

Cassie laughs at Hannah’s quip and kisses her lightly. Hannah’s touch raises goosebumps on her arms and she hums in pleasure.

“Those are all brilliant suggestions. And logically, I should suggest that we shower and then have alcohol, and then make out like teenagers, but I’m gonna skip ahead to the making out portion of the program,” Cassie says, before covering Hannah’s mouth with her own.

Hannah doesn't remember kissing feeling like this. It's just Cassie’s mouth that makes her stomach flutter and her heart skip. But she's not complaining. With a quiet moan, she teases her tongue along the seam of Cassie’s lips. The fingers she's resting at the small of Cassie’s back curl, the nails dragging feather-light over perfectly smooth, soft skin.

Cassie shivers against Hannah as she parts her lips. Something about the way Hannah touches her makes her want a little desperately. It unnerves her, the way she wants to cling onto her and never let go. Her hands move to Hannah’s back and slip under her shirt, and her fingers brush raised skin. Cassie pauses ever so slightly, remembering the way Hannah had looked when she’d first shown her the scar on her abdomen. She’s carefully attuned to Hannah’s body language even as she moves against her.

“How is it that I can’t get enough of you?” Cassie asks, her voice thick.

Hannah waits for the wave of panic, the one that comes at different levels, depending on the day, when Cassie touches her. But it's barely noticeable today and she breathes a quiet sigh of relief. Resolved to make Cassie keep sounding like that--low and breathless and needy--Hannah skates her fingers a little lower, drifting over Cassie’s hip.

“You have me,” she whispers, her mouth traveling Cassie's jaw and then the gentle slope of her neck. “I'm all yours.”

She arches into Hannah, her breath catching as Hannah’s mouth moves over her skin. Her fingers just skim over Hannah’s bra, and she edges away, teasing them both with the hint of more. Hannah’s words pulse into her blood, and she’s filled with a desire different from the one that makes her breath catch and her pulse scramble. There’s a part of her that’s always on guard, ready to leave before someone can leave her, but she lowers it as Hannah moves against her.

Hannah’s fingers moving over her skin make her hot and desperate, and she gasps out a breath.

“God, I want you,” Hannah breathes, heat pooling low in her belly at the way Cassie’s reacting to her touch. The words startle her, a revelation, not because she's not attracted to Cassie, but because she hasn't let herself want anyone in a long time. The tip of her index finger drags along the waistband of Cassie’s pants and even that much has Hannah hungry.

Cassie swallows hard at that, closing her eyes for a moment to collect herself. She notices the slight hesitation even as Hannah’s fingers tease at the edge of her jeans.

“I want you too,” she whispers, “but kissing you like this, this is enough.” Knowing that she would drive herself insane, but beyond caring, Cassie captures Hannah’s mouth again, sucking lightly on her lower lip and nibbling gently there. She cups Hannah’s face and takes a second to catch her breath.

“Go shower, I have a pair of very slutty pajamas you can borrow, that I will lend you for the sole reason of checking out your fabulous legs, and I’ll mix up some drinks for us. We deserve it after our foray into carpentry.”

Hannah laughs through a whine, covering her face with her hands.

“Okay. But I'm not done kissing you. For the record.” She steals another kiss, chaste but lingering, tugging playfully at Cassie’s shirt as she rolls away, sitting up. When she looks back at the woman lying next to her, the sight stalls her breath in her throat. “You, Cassie Conner, are too gorgeous for your own damn good.”

She lays there for a few minutes, listens as the shower starts up, and then stretches luxuriously, realizing that she feels happy and light, and that all the tension she felt earlier has dissipated. She gets up to fish pajamas out of her dresser for Hannah, purposely grabbing the smallest pair of shorts she owns, and tossing them onto the bed with a top.

By the time the shower stops, Cassie is sitting at the counter on a barstool waiting for Hannah to emerge.

After towel drying her hair, Hannah piles it on top of her head and then relishes putting on Cassie’s clothes. Everything smells like her and it just makes Hannah feel good. Like she belongs here, like she’s wanted.

The extra sway to her hips when she joins Cassie in the kitchen is entirely intentional as she sidles up to the barstool.

“Who knew you owned such slutty things?” she purrs. “Been holding out on me, hm?”

Cassie laughs and lets out a wolf whistle, taking her time ogling Hannah. “I’m gonna have to invest in sluttier things,” Cassie says, leaning closer to Hannah to slide her arms around her waist.

There are things she wants to say, but she can’t quite work up the courage, or form the words to tell Hannah that she makes her happier than she’s been in much too long.

“As for holding out, I have this ridiculous lingerie getup that takes at least 30 minutes to get into, that I might just let you get a look at, but I’m saving it for a special occasion,” Cassie says in a low voice, leaning in to nuzzle Hannah’s neck and sliding her drink to her.

“But for now I’m getting you drunk so I can take advantage of you later.”

“Oh is that the plan?” Hannah asks, grinning, more than slightly distracted by Cassie’s proximity. “Noted. Here I thought I would be the one taking advantage…” She takes a generous sip of the frozen concoction Cassie made, cooling her fingers on the glass before trailing them up the back of Cassie’s neck. The angle while she’s standing makes it too tempting not to steal a kiss, so Hannah claims Cassie’s mouth with almost teasingly gentle pressure.

Cassie shivers at the sensation of Hannah’s cool fingers on her neck, leaning further into Hannah’s kiss. The angle throws her slightly off balance, for more reasons than one, and she grips Hannah’s hips to steady herself. The familiar scent of her own shampoo clinging to Hannah makes Cassie dizzy with want, and she can’t quite pinpoint why.

“You take advantage of me anytime you want, Rivera, you won’t hear me complaining.”

“The things I want to do to you…” Hannah cradles the back of Cassie’s head and just looks at her a minute, awed that this woman wants her, that she gets to do this with her. It dulls some of the pain left behind by Urzua’s men. She thinks suddenly of Cassie’s hands, gentle and tender, and realizes it’s the things she wants Cassie to do to her that scare her the most. But tonight, there’s just this, and it’s intoxicating and warm and dizzying, but it’s not scary.

Cassie lets out a stuttering noise and she swears she’ll melt right out of the chair if Hannah keeps looking at her like that.

“Jesus Hannah, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to spontaneously combust.” Cassie murmurs, slightly lost in Hannah’s eyes.

Emotion rises and crests, flooding into her chest, and Cassie slips off the barstool and hugs Hannah tightly, suddenly speechless.

She releases her just as suddenly, and avoids her eyes as the feelings thrum through her.

“I’m going to take a shower, a cold one.” Cassie says, and it take several seconds before she can school her features.

“I got the cable set up, find us something trashy to watch,” she says with a grin, finally meeting Hannah’s eyes again.

Hannah’s used to reading people and Cassie might be good at what she does, but here, she’s just Cassie and there’s no hiding. The vulnerability, though, is one Hannah understands, so she lets the wall be reconstructed, at least a little bit, as she watches Cassie escape to the bathroom. She makes it halfway through her drink while she surfs through channels before arbitrarily deciding on some 90s romcom she hasn’t seen in over a decade. She’s settling into bed again, drink in hand, when Cassie emerges and Hannah realizes she didn’t take into account Cassie dripping wet in nothing but a towel. It makes her blush uncharacteristically as she drags her gaze back to the TV.

She’s a little steadier as she walks out of the shower, and her lips curve as she sees the flush on Hannah’s cheeks. Cassie gives her an exaggerated wink and hikes the towel slightly up her leg as she meets Hannah’s gaze.

“You like what you see?” she asks playfully, bending with exaggerated movements as she fishes for her own set of pajamas. Cassie eyes a lacy camisole and decides what the hell, before grabbing it with a pair of shorts. Testing them both, she walks slowly up to Hannah and sits beside her on the bed, well aware the towel around her has shifted to reveal a slice of thigh up to her hip

“You look a little flushed, everything okay?” Cassie asks with mock concern.

Hannah pokes her tongue out and bites it lightly as her eyes drag over every visible inch of Cassie’s skin.

“You’re damn lucky I like being teased,” she murmurs, carefully tracing the slit in the towel. “Because now all I can think about is my mouth right here, and it’s very distracting…”

Cassie falters slightly as she realizes her ploy has backfired on her somewhat. “Like I said, not complaining,” she tosses back with a quick grin. Cassie bites her lip and covers Hannah’s hand with her own, moving it dangerously high up her thigh.

She leans in slowly to kiss Hannah again, deciding that if all she did was kiss this girl she could die happy.

“Suffer,” Cassie says playfully as she eases back and heads for the bathroom.

It only takes her a few seconds to slip on her clothing and brush the tangles from her hair before she joins Hannah on the bed again, slipping under the covers with her. She snuggles up to Hannah’s side and gestures at the TV.

“Didn’t take you for a rom-com kind of girl.”

“It's...safe,” Hannah says, slipping her arm around Cassie and kissing her forehead. “Besides, we’ve already figured out I can't think straight with you, so kinda helps when I don't have to pay attention to the plot.”

Even holding Cassie like this, being this close to her, is incredibly distracting. And not even because Hannah wants her. She's just pretty and soft and smells incredible. There’s a part of her that realizes there’s a lot more to this--whatever they’re doing--than she’s willing to admit, but she’s battled herself enough today. They both have. So for now, she’s just going to lay here in the bed she built and soak up the reality of the gorgeous woman in her arms. For tonight, that’s more than enough.

Cassie almost falls asleep smiling, and the Cassie she was before this might have mocked her for getting so soft, but she’s happy, and that’s what makes her pull Hannah to her just a little tighter.

Here, in the stillness of night, memories of her coworkers, face down in their own blood, begin to surface. Cassie stiffens. It’s been so long since she’s thought about any of it. Icy guilt trickles into her, and she squeezes her eyes shut. A mild panic starts to surface and Cassie blows out a breath, pressing her face into Hannah’s shoulder. She breathes in the scent of her, and it settles the sharpest edges of her panic. It feels a lot like needing someone, and Cassie wants to fight that too, but the fear of panic wins out, and Cassie clings tighter.

You’re fine. Cassie tells herself as she steadies her breath. It takes several minutes, but she manages to bring herself back to an equilibrium.

The problem with suppressing things though, is that they manage to sneak out the moment you turn your back on them.

The nightmare has Cassie in its grip as soon as she falls asleep. Images flash and bleed into each other, and a thread of scarlet ties it all together. Panic surges in full force now as Cassie fights her way to Tom, the kind analyst who had come to Moscow on his first foray into the field, and she screams soundlessly as bullets rip into him.

Hannah has always been a light sleeper. Even as a child, the smallest thing would wake her. So Cassie stiffening beside her, her previously calm, even breathing turning erratic, draws Hannah instantly out of her sleep.

She knows better, really, than to wake someone from a nightmare, so instead, Hannah strokes Cassie’s hair and murmurs reassurances, hoping the terror breaks soon. It's only then that Hannah realizes it's been a long while since she's had a nightmare of her own. Not since she'd visited Cassie in the hospital. Progress, slow and steady.

“You're safe, baby. It's over. You're home,” she whispers. “You did everything you could.”

Cassie jerks at the light touch on her skin and nearly leaps out of the bed. She’s so confused at first she nearly pushes Hannah’s hands off her, but it’s the only thing that centers her, so she attempts a laugh that sounds a lot more like a sob, and rolls to stare at the ceiling.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” Cassie says, her voice a little raw as she fights back the tears.

Hannah's seen Cassie angry, hurt, anxious, and totally shut down. But the verge of tears is new and it shatters Hannah’s heart.

“Don't apologize for what you can't control. I'm here. I want to be here.”

Her arm is draped over Cassie’s stomach now, and Hannah strokes soothingly up her side, glad that at least she hasn't been pushed away. It's something.

She’s tense as she tries to work her way out of the fear and onto solid ground. Hannah’s touch pulls some of that from her, and Cassie’s first instinct is to fight it. She has borne her own fears her whole life. There have been so many instances where she’s wished there was someone there, anyone, and now that there is, Cassie recognizes that letting someone else take on some of your pain is a lot less about weakness, and much more about trust.

Cassie likes to think she trusts Hannah, that she’s not a broken person who’s unable to love or give in fully to someone else, but the iron grip on her own fear remains.

Some things are just not meant.

“I’ll be okay,” Cassie murmurs, and she closes her eyes, waiting for the feeling to pass. She read somewhere that emotions usually last no longer than 90 seconds, that longer lasting emotions are only drawn out because you’re thinking about them.

So she goes through a mental checklist of everything she needs to do to make her way back into the field.

“You will,” Hannah agrees. Compartmentalizing is a skill she prides herself on, so there's a part of her that’s fascinated, watching Cassie shift so rapidly from vulnerable to composed. But the part of her that's invested here just hurts.

“If you ever want to talk, I hope you know I'll listen. Or I'll help you find someone to talk to if that's better. Just...packing things away only lasts for so long.” It goes against everything they learn going into the field. Hannah knows that. She'd struggled with it for a long time, coming back.

Cassie waits for a long moment before answering. She feels wooden and dull, and Hannah’s arm on her feels like a soft weight, but nothing more. Cassie can feel herself shutting down, and there is an aching feeling of regret.

“I’m fine, really.” Cassie says lightly, and the kiss she plants on Hannah’s cheek is quick before she turns, slipping out of Hannah’s grasp, and laying still enough to fake sleep. Anger begins a slow build as she lays there quietly.

Should have known you were gonna fuck it up. She thinks, and she’s so angry about it, because Hannah is the best thing that’s happened to her in years. Cassie wants to reach back and cling to her fiercely, but the part of her that knows she’s not the type of person to make lasting connections wins out.

For Hannah, knowing rationally what Cassie’s doing doesn't help it hurt less. Particularly because it's exactly why things with Thea had ended. Circumstances had been different, sure, but being iced out felt the same either way. A few stray tears slip before she can stop them and Hannah draws a shaky breath, resolving not to let Cassie go as easily.

“It's a lot harder than that to get rid of me,” she whispers, though she doesn't move. If Cassie's not ready, she's not ready. Hannah can wait. As long as it takes.

Cassie doesn’t answer because Hannah’s words just fuel the anger. Not because they’re unkind, but because Hannah’s so damn understanding, so damn good to her, and she deserves none of it. The desperate part of her clings to those words though, because as hard as she fights this, she knows Hannah is important to her. Sleep takes a long time, but eventually she calms down enough to drift off.

#the brave #Hannah rivera #cassie conner #my fic

11 notes · View notes