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sagitariusrising · 11 months

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I Let The Beast in Too Soon

“I let the beast in too soon, I don't know how to live without my hand on his throat, I fight him always and still. Oh darling, it's so sweet, you think you know how crazy, how crazy I am. You say you don't spook easy, you won't go, but I know, And I pray that you will…”

A man with silver hair meets a woman covered in stars…

18+ content. Orson Krennic / OFC; Modern AU; Modern Rogue One tech interpretations; Boston setting; Defense Contractor!Krennic; Scientist!Krennic; Kyber Crystals; OFC with psychic abilities; Mentions of Wilhuff Tarkin, Galen Erso, Chirrut Îmwe, Baze Malbus; other characters forthcoming; clubbing; alcohol use; smut; mutual attraction dialed up to 11; safer sex practices; OFC doesn't have time for Krennic's games; emotional vulnerability from both characters; fear; Krennic is besotted; more tags to be added later

Word Count: 5450-ish

This story is inspired by the house on the bluff on the coast and my need to put Orson Krennic and his science in a modern setting.

Full courage!! This is my first full fic post ever and the story has lived rent-free in my head for years. Several of you have seen it, you know who you are, specifically @smolbeandrabbles (who was my first reader: OCs = my babies), and @pinksiamese (who gave me thoughtful and constructive feedback, edited what was needed, and kicked my rear end into gear). I owe a lot to @sufferthesea (and her perfect comm that helped form the entire planned story) There's more...

Playlist (in order)

The title comes from "Fast as You Can," by Fiona Apple: This song nicely encompasses the entire planned fic.

"More," by the Sisters of Mercy.

"Fascination Street," by The Cure

"Perfect Kiss," by New Order

"Natural One" by the Folk Implosion

"The Killing Moon," by Echo and the Bunnymen

OFCs faceclaim is here

***

A man with silver hair entered the club.

Kary noticed him immediately, but who wouldn’t? Confident in his masculinity, pale suit, and haughty expression. He checked his coat at the door and surveyed the dance floor.

Feigning disinterest, she peeked as he strode to the bar. He raised his hand and ordered a drink.

He’s too old to be here, he’s probably slumming tonight. Maybe he’s lost? Or meeting someone?

That was it. Turning her attention back to the beat of the music, she lost herself in the dancing. Tonight’s venture away from home had a purpose: she needed the distraction, to get outside of her head.

***

Clubbing in the theatre district hadn’t been part of Orson Krennic’s evening agenda. Tonight was supposed to be his big sendoff, but he’d left the festivities early, feeling let down and almost empty.

The event had been part presentation, part retirement party. Krennic delivered his academic paper, titled “Nanotechnology and Optic Crystals: Military Applications of Laser Technology for Drone Warfare” at the banquet sponsored jointly by MIT and Tarkin Industries. A celebration, his last hurrah.

Retired from the Navy with Captain stripes in place, Krennic went to work in the private sector. For Wilhuff Tarkin, his rival both in school and in the service. Putting their differences aside, the two men had diligently worked to produce technology for military contracts.

After five years, Krennic had become bored and embittered. Tarkin had regularly second-guessed and belittled his ideas and took more than his fair share of credit for their designs. Krennic was paid well and was respected in the industry--at least to his face. And he had all the status symbols: a penthouse apartment with a view of the waterfront, first name status at all the restaurants, and an expensive car. Plenty of beautiful women threw themselves at him, a rotation of bed partners whom he’d enjoy for the night and forget in the morning.

But the thrill was gone.

Krennic was bored. He wanted something beyond the superficiality of business transactions and casual sex. His weapon designs had become repetitive, the innovation was gone. The social scene in Boston was dull and noisy. He began to entertain the possibility of a more substantial relationship, but the dating apps were bewildering: all of his matches were airbrushed women with parted lips who called him “Daddy.”

Galen Erso was the zenith of his disillusion. They had been as thick as thieves in the Science Corps, had come up together in the Futures Program, attended MIT together, and become commissioned officers in the same unit in the Navy. They were like Oppenheimer and Groves: the crystal-based lasers they designed together were invaluable to the government and had been used for crushing conflict in countries across the globe.

But Galen had seen the impact of their work in real-time, the bodies of civilians whom their weapons had struck down. Horrified and encouraged by his wife, Galen had resigned his commission, left the Navy, and settled on some organic farm in the middle of nowhere to raise a family.

Krennic had seen Galen at a protest in front of Tarkin Industries. Disheveled, with long hair and hemp trousers, Galen had been carrying a sign that said STOP THE WEAPONS OF WAR and was leading a chant of REMEMBER THE INNOCENT. The next day, Krennic received an email with attached photos of dead bodies and destroyed cities.

Deciding he needed an exit plan, Krennic spent extra hours at the lab, developing and testing a new application, nanotechnology with ion beams reflecting from lenses made from Kyberium. Testing in the lab had proved successful, his field simulations had confirmed his hypotheses, and he’d been able to duplicate his results successfully.

The power of the Kyberium was swift and deadly. Applying for a patent was easy and he had stealthily offered the technology to Raytheon. Krennic was going to get out of Boston, build a house up north by the ocean, and figure out the next chapter of his life.

After the sale had gone through---a generous profit and a share of Raytheon’s proceeds in perpetuity---he had sold his shares in Tarkin Industries and resigned. Wihuff was furious, apoplectic. And humiliated when the paper Krennic had written about the technology had gotten noticed and published in a well-regarded academic journal. Forced to swallow his pride, Tarkin had arranged for Krennic to present the paper at tonight’s conference and combined the presentation with a retirement party.

The applause had been thunderous. After the presentation, Krennic accepted a glass of scotch and made his way around the room, shaking hands and nodding at his peers' congratulations. Tarkin muttered “congratulations” and palmed over a shining point of Kyberium, Krennic nodded his thanks and slid the crystal into his pocket. But the room was stuffy, the company boring, and there was too much fawning. He had already moved on. Krennic ducked out of the gala as soon as he could.

***

He had boarded the subway with the intent of going home. But at the Theatre District stop, he’d made a spur-of-the-moment decision to get off the train and walk the remainder of the way.

The sidewalks were crowded with theatergoers, tourists, and scads of people streaming in and out of the blocks of dance clubs. The music coming out of one of the clubs had stopped him: the tunes reminded him of his youth and decided he would have a drink and perhaps find some female company, he’d paid the ridiculous cover charge and gone in.

The pulse of “More” by the Sisters of Mercy greeted him. Through flashing lights and the crowd at the bar, the dance floor was packed.

Meeting women was easy: his looks and obvious income made sure of that. But surveying the room, he thought blonde...brunette...too thin...too fat...too odd looking...taken...Christ, they’re all too young!”

He ordered bourbon, tugged off his tie, and stuffed it in his pocket. Maybe he would just sit and enjoy the scenery.

Leaning against the bar, he scanned the crowds.

And found her.

Twirling on the dance floor, a shapely redhead. Pale skin, with tattoos covering her shoulders and back. She wore a thin camisole and a flowy skirt made of silky material. Younger than him, but not a kid. She sang along to the music, oblivious to others.

No dance partner. He watched her rebuff a man who slid up against her. Interesting…

The opening chords of “Fascination Street” by the Cure dropped from the speakers.

Krennic watched the girl change her rhythm and sway her body to the music; enchanted to watch her run her hands over her shoulders and hips, twisting and turning. He’d found his mark for the evening. He ordered another bourbon and downed it. More courage, he needed a buzz to focus his concentration.

***

Kary was grieving: Baze and Imwe were dead, and their house was on the market. Nan had died two years ago. Her circle of protection, the friends who had helped her understand her powers and harness and control the visions.

And the responsibility that had been left to her. She shook it off.

Just stop. Dance, get another drink.

She twirled to the pulse of the music, hands in her hair. The song faded away. Out of breath, she turned to the bar.

The silver-haired man was staring at her.

She met his gaze. A jolt flared in her belly. He was cruelly handsome: tall, flinty blue eyes. And still alone.

What is he doing here?

Intrigued, she maneuvered to the bar. An empty seat allowed Kary a clear view.

And why is he staring at me?

Flagging down the bartender, she ordered a bottle of water. She downed it in large gulps. Then, a gin and tonic. Triple limes. Her third, fourth drink of the night? She’d forgotten.

…screw it.

She gulped her drink and swiped her hand across her face. the juniper tingled on her tongue.

Tonight is for forgetting.

He was still watching her.

***

Her bare back was half-turned towards him and Krennic’s eyes followed the lines of tattoos; they wrapped her back and shoulders, clear patterns of constellations: Cygnus, Lyra, Hercules, Draco, Capricorn, Sagittarius, Scorpio, Libra. His trained eye found the circumpolar patterns of Ursa Major and Minor, Cassiopeia, and Cepheus.

The night sky, he thought. Northern Hemisphere in the summertime. A slight smile tucked one corner of his mouth. She knows her astronomy.

Repositioning himself to get a better view, he continued to study her. Hair cascaded into tendrils of copper that glimmered in the colored lights. Damp with sweat, her camisole clung to her body, enhancing the round sweep of her waist and breasts. But her smile was unaffected, she seemed oblivious to the admiring glances.

Including mine…

The music covered his growl. That body.

Phantom sensations of her pressed against him, curves swaying on the dance floor. His cock stirred as he envisioned her hair spread across the sheets of his bed, his hands moving her hips to match his rhythm, that smile evolving into moans of pleasure.

Krennic put down his empty glass and signaled the bartender. “Another. And send a drink,” he said, raising his voice over the music, “to the redhead with the tattoos.”

He watched the bartender mix another drink and slide it in front of her. She shook her head. The bartender retracted it and poured her a shot of something instead. Krennic watched her toss it back and signal for another.

“Sorry, bro.” The bartender handed Krennic the refused cocktail. “The lady says no.”

Krennic smirked and stared down the bar. Her eyes met his; cool and savvy, gleaming with interest. No giggling or primping herself, no salacious expressions or fluttering of eyelashes: none of the usual female responses to his interest. But she was returning his appraising gaze, eyes drifting from his face, studying his body, drifting to below his waist. She met his eye again and seemed to remember herself, and her eyes darted away. Then she shrugged and returned his smirk. She turned away.

This girl is a rebel.

His intrigue continued to grow. So did the lust coursing through him. He got up and strode towards her.

***

Kary focused her attention on the drink in front of her.

Who is this guy?

The way he held himself and the smirk on his face told her that he was used to getting what he wanted.

This is getting more and more interesting... he’s played this game before, but I’m not falling for run-of-the-mill games.

“Not feeling thirsty?”

His voice was rich and distinguished, gilded with an accent she couldn’t quite place: Australian? South African?

He glared at the young man sitting next to her until he got up and left.

Stomach flipping, Kary watched him take the vacated seat. She shook her head and looked him over; he was dressed in a crisp white shirt, pale grey slacks, cufflinks, and an expensive watch. The body beneath was broad through the chest and tapered at the waist. He had enormous hands. Close up, his eyes were shockingly blue, full of intelligence and cunning.

Not as old as I thought. She studied his hair; up close, black threads wove through the silver.

He studied her too, eyes sweeping over her.

“Not feeling chatty, either?”

Kary shook her head. She met his eyes and felt the familiar white noise in her head that was the precursor of…what she was drinking to block. She focused on his mouth instead, fearful that her eyes would give away the attraction she felt.

Or see who he really is…

Finishing her drink and tilting her head towards the dance floor, Kary got up and walked away.

***

Snubbed again. He watched her weave into the crowd. Or am I?

Krennic’s amusement deepened. His interest sharpened. This stunning woman wasn’t falling prey to his small talk and wasn't visibly impressed by his stature. His pride was wounded, but with every passing second, he felt she was worth the challenge. He wished he was still in the Navy; perhaps his dress whites would have made a stronger impression, but then again, she didn’t know who he was—his past, his work, his connections.

Even if she did, would she be impressed?

He scanned the dance floor, found her twirling to the music. They locked eyes and she jerked her head.

New Order blasted from the DJ booth. “Perfect Kiss.” It was one of his favorites, with its gorgeous synth-pop bridge and climax.

I haven’t danced informally for years.

Downing the last of his bourbon, he straightened his shoulders and neck. He kept his eyes on her and removed his cufflinks, and rolled up his sleeves.

***

Keeping her back to the bar, Kary waited for the silver-haired man to join her.

Will he accept the challenge? Or is he too proud to let go of himself?

Warmth settled up and down her back. The scent of expensive cologne and tobacco wrapped around her shoulders. Lips hovered close to her ear.

“May I touch you?”

That accent. She shivered, her thighs clenching together; she turned her head toward him. Nodded. Her hips filled his splayed hands. Kary’s head spun. He found the beat of the music with his body and buried his face in her hair, matching her pace. His fingers caressed through the silk of her clothes. His hard cock pressed against her backside.

No attempt to hide that. She struggled with her breath.

The nine minutes of the song felt like an eternity, which then dissolved into “Natural One” by Folk Implosion.

He spun her around and locked eyes with her, slinging his arms over her shoulders. She didn’t know if it was the drink, the music, or just lust, but she pressed herself close to the man with the silver hair. Tugging her closer, he eased her into a thrusting movement that matched the beat of the song. He slipped a long muscular thigh between hers and she ground herself against him, fresh jolts of desire rattling her spine. His hand skimmed down her back and cradled her bottom, moved lower, and went under her skirt; she was wet, and if she kept going like this, she was going to come right there on the dance floor.

I don’t care.

The white noise in her head dissolved into the red noise in her blood.

The music changed again.

***

The moody romance of Echo and the Bunnymen’s “Killing Moon” slowed the pace of the dancefloor.

Krennic stepped back and let a sliver of air between them. Twirling her into a waltz-like move, he steered one steadying hand between her shoulders and dropped the other one to her hip. As the music swelled, he eased her into a backward dip and left a lingering kiss on the throat.

She groaned.

Grinning, he drifted his lips up the curve of her neck.

He wanted more but the song ended and she pulled away from him.

“I’ll be back.” She made brief eye contact, then smirked. “But if I’m not, you should come find me.”

She walked away, trailing her fingers down his arm.

***

Pushing her way through the crowd of women in front of the ladies room, she found an empty single bathroom with a door. Locking herself in, washed her hands and studied herself in the mirror. She was flushed, hot. Her hair was a mess.

Do I know what to do next? She steadied her breath. He’s a catch, that’s for sure…but why is he here?

She wasn’t looking for a man. The dance floor was full of women who would gladly take her place. She had come to the club to escape her grief. He was just a bonus to the night, a sexy dance partner who could be filed away as a fantasy.

He’s fucking hot, but there is too much at stake. She pushed back from the sink. I’ve gotta lose him…like now.

Running one hand through her snarled-up hair, she opened the door.

What happened next was a blur.

***

Krennic grabbed her hips and pulled her against him. He kissed her full on the mouth, his tongue seeking hers. He grinned as she returned the kiss, once, twice then jerked her head away and buried her face in his neck, kissing along his jawline and running her fingers through his hair.

Nails scraped against his scalp. Krennic growled and shoved her against the bathroom sink. Hoisting her up, he felt her legs wrap around his waist. Desire boiled over as she ground herself against him. Pushing her further back he kissed her chest, pushed his hands under her camisole and bra, and cupped her bare breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples. She thrust herself back against him, hands scrambling at the buttons on his shirt, growing more desperate and her hands traveled lower, the last button popped off and rattled against the floor.

Chest bare, he grunted as she nipped at his collarbone, the sensation going straight to his cock. Pulling her back again against the sink, he yanked up her skirt, running his hands up her legs. Krennic couldn’t contain his smile at the whimpering sounds she made as he plunged his fingers past her panties and found her wet.

Krennic pressed his fingers into her. Swirling and exploring, he grazed her clit and pressed harder as he heard her gasp. Stopping, he lowered his mouth against her ear and whispered:

“Is this for me? Did I do this to you?” His smile got wider as he met her eyes and watched her nod.

Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her panties, he drew them down. She spread her legs to pull them off entirely and reached for his belt.

Her hands rubbed his cock through his pants, then stopped. Hissing at the friction, he looked down at her: she was frowning.

“Do you have something?” Her voice was soft, but firm.

Krennic mentally clawed his way out of his haze of lust.

What? Something? Oh. Protection.

Of course he didn’t have anything: tonight he hadn’t planned on an adventure with a strange woman.

Glancing around the room, he noticed a condom dispenser on the wall. Coins only. He had no change.

Reluctantly pulling away from her, Krennic examined the dispenser. Bending his elbow, he jammed it against the machine. Once, twice, three times. The dispenser dented and clanged open, condoms scattering across the floor. Krennic grabbed a handful and tossed them on the edge of the sink. Problem solved.

She grabbed the waist of his slacks and pulled him back to her. Another kiss then moved her face away.

Why wouldn’t she look at him?

And why was she avoiding kissing him on the mouth but letting him touch her everywhere else?

Krennic resolved to get to the bottom of these questions right after…

An insistent nip under his ear brought him back to reality. Krennic responded with a bite to her neck and slid his hands back under her skirt. Less tentative this time, he thrust a finger directly into her warmth and slid his hand around her back, holding her steady as she gasped and teetered on the edge of the sink. The only way this was going to work was if she could keep her balance against the sink. Fucking in a public bathroom was something he hadn’t done in years and he certainly wasn’t going to take her on the filthy floor.

She gasped as he pressed into her, she was so fucking wet, his palm pressing against her clit. Feeling her rub against him harder, he withdrew his hand. Krennic smirked as she whined in protest. He kept his voice light, teasing.

“Feeling eager?”

Krennic’s belt buckle clattered as she unzipped his slacks, jerking them down along with his boxers. Krennic saw her eyes widen as she boldly grasped him, stroking cock to the base, tightening and relaxing her grip. He groaned as he watched her lean forward and tease him with her tongue.

Hissing, he pushed her head away and pushed himself against her heat as she dragged her nails across his chest.

Reaching behind himself, Krennic fumbled for a condom. He had to get inside her. Hands shaking, he dropped the first condom on the floor. She had both hands on him, clenching, dragging. He couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t open the fucking condom.

Impatient, she released him and plucked the condom out of his hands. Blinking in confusion, Krennic watched as she effortlessly opened the wrapper and with swift and triumphant ease, sheathed it over him.

Grabbing her waist again, he tugged her up onto the sink. Her hand reached between them, and grasped his cock, Krennic covered her hand with his and allowed her to guide him…

Watching her carefully, Krennic saw her eyes go out of focus as he eased into her. Trying to go slowly, to savor her, he gripped her hips, grit his teeth, and fought the urge to bury himself completely into her. She fought him, covering his hands with hers again, threading her fingers over his. Krennic was startled at the sense of intimacy he felt, but this was forgotten as she pushed her hips against his, engulfing him in soft warmth.

Groaning at the unexpected movement, he watched her, awed as she moved her body against his, bore down once, twice, and then trembled, and cried out. He felt her clench and pulse around him and realized that she was coming already.

Krennic watched her bite her lips to smother her cries of pleasure. Feeling her go limp, he supported her body against his and continued to thrust into her. She was perfect: hair askew, face flushed, hands sliding across his chest.

But she wouldn’t look him in the eye.

Desperate to see her, Krennic pulled out, she whined and clutched at him. He roughly spun her around and pushed her against the sink. Gripping her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh, he plunged back into her from behind, feeling himself grow harder as she moaned gratefully when he thrust back into her. Gasping, she moved her hips to match his rhythm.

Burying his face in her hair, Krennic struggled to hold his composure. She was too far away from him, her hands and chest pressed against the sink. Keeping his thrusts shallow, he ran his hands over her back and shoulders and pulled her back against him. his hand roamed over her belly, caressing his fingernails across her breasts, he pressed his hand against her chest and drew her against him.

He caught a glimpse of them in the mirror in front of the sink. Her face was a mask of pleasure.

The mirror…

Krennic leaned closer, and whispered in her ear.

“Look at me, little rebel…”

Her eyes met his in the mirror, feline green and heavy-lidded. She reached up and grasped his hair, shrieking as she came again, slamming her hips against his, keeping her eyes locked with his in the mirror.

Krennic fucked her through her second orgasm. The combination of her pulsing around his cock with their eye contact and the new rhythm of her hips against him sent him over his own edge. His orgasm shot through him. He gasped, pounding himself into her, coming hard, blissful, dissolving.

He continued to thrust through the aftershocks, burying his face in her neck, breathing in her scent, something floral, her sweat combined with his own. Moving his hand down her chest, over her belly, and back down between her legs, fingers brushing against her clit, grinning at her gasps.

Images of tenderness flashed through his mind. Inviting her to his bed, drinking coffee, and lounging in bed with the newspaper. Her tattoos, the stars lining her shoulders and back: maybe she would understand his work.

Christ, I didn’t even know her name.

Still inside her but receding, he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. Her hand moved against his, then up to his face. She kissed him. Once, twice...she didn’t pull away.

Someone banged at the door. “Hurry up in there!!!”

Krennic reluctantly pulled away, and withdrew from her, wincing. She made a mewling sound as she lowered her head. He pulled off the condom, washed his hands, and turned to her. She was meeting his eyes now. He reached for her...

“Will you excuse me?”

Nodding, he adjusted himself, buttoning his shirt.

“Just give me a minute”

Krennic stepped out, pushing against another couple trying to get in “Wait your fucking turn”.

***

Kary sagged against the sink, body thrumming and trying to collect her thoughts.

When their eyes locked in the mirror, Kary had a vision.

Shouting, fists slammed against tables. A panorama of explosions. The man’s voice, full of awe and pride.

“Oh! It’s beautiful”

Combined with his hands on her body, his cock thrusting, the vision had sent her over the edge. The best sex she’d ever had.

Her legs were wobbly, she was shocked at how empty she had felt when he pulled out. Turning around to see her backside in the mirror, Kary noticed marks on her hips. She was probably going to have bruises tomorrow.

I don’t care…

But she did: the visions frightened her. His presence, his power. She was intrigued by the man with the silver hair. He was stern, but a tiny bit vulnerable, a skilled lover who had met her challenge. What was he like outside of this place?

Hold on: you don't do things like this, you're drunk and lonely, the stars aligned and you let your guard down.

The fear and desire were overwhelming, and he was waiting for her.

Did he feel her power?

Never mind, you’ve got to lose him. Go home and forget this ever happened.

Cleaning herself up she noticed her panties under the sink, along with the button that had snapped from his shirt.

Collecting herself, Kary opened the door. He was leaning against the wall, ankles crossed, head lowered. Raising his eyes to her, he bit his lip and gave a shy smile. He reached for her hand.

“Hey, little rebel…”

Her stomach flipped as his blue eyes continued to plead with her: he had given her that look in the mirror. Kary felt the pulsing between her legs return.

“I think this is yours.” She held up the button.

His smile was boyish, the arrogance she had seen earlier was gone. He traced circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

Kary tucked it into his pants pocket.

I need to get out of here.

“Listen, I’ve got to...you know…” He jerked his head towards the men’s room. “Meet you at the bar?”

She nodded, and his hand lingered on hers as he pulled away to stand in the short line. Kary backed away, keeping eye contact with him until she left the area.

She had five minutes, tops. Weaving around the dance floors to the crowded bar, she pushed her way through and flagged the bartender. Throwing a wad of cash on the bar, Kary made her way to the coat check.

***

Navigating his way back to the bar, Krennic was lost in thought. He was going to settle his bar tab, get her out of this club, and take her to his apartment. Maybe he’d fuck her again, but it wasn’t necessary tonight. He just wanted to hold her, wake up next to her. Get to know her, study the tattoos on her back up close. Figure out who this mystery girl was, and why this felt like something more than a casual fuck.

She could be the start of something beautiful.

Signaling the bartender, Krennic tossed down a credit card. Signing off on his tab, he glanced around the bar. He surveyed the dance floor: no sign of her. A coil of concern bloomed into panic. Flagging down the bartender again, Krennic asked “Have you seen the little redhead who was here earlier?”

The bartender pointed behind him. “I think that’s her over there…”

Krennic spun around and saw her at the coat check counter.

She was leaving!

Fighting his way through the crowd, Krennic shouted “Wait!!! Don’t go!!! Please!!” She glanced over her shoulder, and he caught her eye, pleading “Wait!! I don’t even know your name!”

Her eyes flashed with panic. What happened to the woman who had clung to him?

Fuck!!

Krennic cursed out loud, shoving people out of his way. She was too far away from him! Stumbling towards the exit, he shoved the door open and ran onto the crowded street. Panicking, he looked left, right, searching desperately for her in the throngs of people. He couldn’t find her.

Struggling against the impulse to punch out a window, a person, something, Krennic drove both hands into his hair, his heart pounding in despair. He was frantic, he had to find her, but how?

He didn’t even know her name, how could he let her slip away?!?!

An idea occurred to him. He pushed back into the club, through the crowds, and up to the bar. Almost shoving a young woman aside, he reached over and grabbed the bartender’s arm.

“The redhead!? Did she pay by credit card? Do you know her name?!”

Shaking off Krennic's hand, the bartender said “No man, sorry. I’ve never seen her before tonight, she’s not a regular here”

“Did she pay with a credit card!?”

“No man, sorry. She paid with cash. If I were you I’d check your pockets. Lots of thieves come in here, gotta be careful…”

Krennic cursed aloud again, bar patrons staring at him. She couldn't have been a thief. He reached in his pockets. Wallet, money clip, cufflinks-all there. His credit cards and cash were intact, his watch was still on his wrist. He dug into his back pocket, hands finding the button from his shirt, and something else.

He pulled out a bundle of silk and lace. Her panties. Despite himself, Krennic grinned. His little rebel had gotten the last word in. Now how the fuck could he find her?

***

Heart hammering, Kary fought back unplanned tears. He was frantic, heartbroken. She had heard him shout after her and almost had a change of heart. But she shoved the impulse aside and hurried out of the club. Pushing through the people on the sidewalk, she ducked into a parking garage and pressed herself against a retaining wall, hearing him holler in the streets.

She looked for a way out. The parking garage had an exit at the opposite end. Pulling out her phone, she called an Uber to pick her up. She needed to get home, away from where he could find her.

Baze and Îmwe had tried to teach her control her response to the Kyber crystals. But the visions were too overwhelming, unbearable. There was always a surge of power, blue and green fire.

And the silhouette of a man…

Dammit, this is no time to speculate, get out of here…

Looking up, she searched the shy. Through the glow of the city, she found the glint of the North Star and breathed through her panic.

Kary didn’t even know the silver-haired man’s name. It was better this way.

***

Krennic paced back and forth. He had taken a cab home, muttering his address to the driver and sitting in the back, clenching his fists and trying to keep a handle on his panic and anger.

He’d poured himself a bourbon, downed it, and poured another. The apartment, modern and sleek, seemed less like a home, too damn tidy. She would have been a beam of freshness and color to this place.

The bourbon was getting to him and he was going to pay tomorrow. Krennic didn’t care, the drink wasn’t numbing his wounded pride and the confusing -imagined?- connection he felt with the redhead. He pulled her panties out of his pocket. Again. Stroking the soft silk, he remembered the groans of pleasure, her weight against him, her lips, his surprising feelings.

It’s been a long time since you’ve wanted to take someone home with you.

He clenched his fists, downed the rest of his bourbon, and threw the tumbler to the floor. Ignoring the shattering glass, he thought “This is why I have to get the fuck out of Boston”.

Desperate for a distraction, Krennic picked up his phone. He scrolled through what looked like a million missed text messages and phone calls.

His realtor.

“Orson, where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to reach you all night. I’ve got your dream house, it’s going on the market next week, and you’ve got the first showing. Be there, bring your checkbook.”

A date. An address: Coburn Cove. Manchester-by-the-Sea.

And several photos of a ramshackle house atop a buff facing the ocean.

…to be continued

#orson krennic #orson krennic x ofc #k/k #ben mendelsohn #rogue one #more tags tbd #krick's fics

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soultek · 1 year

Text

A Hundred Years - A One-Shot [Aliens AU]

Author’s Note: So, this one is for my fellow Bishop Girlies! @mandy23b - Happy 4th Friend-Versay! (You’re for sure stuck with me now!)

@sufferthesea because 1) Happy (belated) Birthday! and 2) because it was your lyric choice and so I had to make it Bishop, obviously! I thought you’d enjoy 😉

Love you both TONS! 💙

Amanda, I know OC fic isn’t your preference, but, I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Please note there are some weird AF paragraph gaps in this that I just can’t get to work nicely... so I apologise in advance 🙏

Warnings: Some swearing / Depressive spiraling / sex reference and innuendo / He might be *slightly* OOC... please judge this for yourself, I tried my best!

Premise: From this fun little request post. There’s engineering work to do, and Rex is spiraling. Despite Bishop’s valiant attempts to stop this from happening, it seems more like a delay. Sure, it started off as a joke - but now she’s really thinking on the fact that for the next 100 years he can upgrade himself and she... can’t. Not without drastic medical advancement. Sometimes it’s not about living for the future, but in the moment...

Words: 6965

--- Lyric Chosen ---

“A hundred years wouldn't be long enough” ~ Mean It This Time, Carly Pearce

---

It started, as it always did, with a game of chess. Although, by this point in their down time, the game had been practically forgotten in favour of general chat and gossip. The pieces used more as something to occupy hands – with the rules of the game being broken left, right and centre, as they were moved across the board with no particular destination. Travelling between planets on shorter journeys meant no need for Cryo, but right now Hicks would be glad of it, because he was bored out of his mind. So bored that really he lacked the concentration for a serious game of chess – and his feigned attempts at trying had quickly made Rex lose interest in playing any better. She had been the one to initially distract him with small talk and now the board was an absolute mess.

Though, being stuck together on a ship – and being close friends – meant really there was little to talk about beyond rumour and speculation. Or whatever bets the other crew members had going on this week. Hicks sank all the way down to the table, head resting on his crossed arms. She raised her eyebrows at him, “You know at this point you might as well go back to bed, huh?” “Ah, would that I could Rex… you know the second I do, something will actually happen.” “Well at least it will be worth it for the rest of us!” She tipped the rook she was messing with a little too far and it clattered off the board and rolled across the table, Hicks stretched his palm out to stop it, but even this was half hearted. “This is the most down down time ever.” “Then go find someone to mess around with.” “You’re the most fun to mess around with – suggesting chess was a screw up on my part.” Rexanna leant on her knuckles, eyebrow quirked. She tipped her head, and as she did so loose curls of dark hair fell into her face; regretting her change of position, she blew them out of the way. Maybe she should have tied it back today. “I noticed. And to think I could have kept going for an easy victory!” She looked back to the board – no point now with the state it was in. If they wanted to keep playing, they’d have to reset the whole thing. “But I’ll take the compliment that I think that was.” Hicks raised his head, but not by much, “It’s official, I’ve never been this bored in my life.” “Sorry, I didn’t realise you turned into Hudson on this trip-!” Rex folded her arms, looking away from him nonchalantly. That soon got her best friend sitting up. “You did not.” “Didn’t what?” “I KNOW I didn’t hear you say that-!” She grinned, “Well, if you’re gonna complain I don’t know what you expect me to say!” He leaned across the table, “You are SO lucky I like you!” “Or what?” Rex couldn’t help grin wider, teasing, before he smacked both her shoulders, “OW! Geez, Hicks, you’re a lot bigger than me!” She tried to lunge back across the table, but he had leaned out of reach. Now they were both laughing, and though she was rubbing her right shoulder, Rex wasn’t actually hurting. “Hey, you could always do work!” She suggested; that was always the easiest way to increase any kind of productivity, and on a ship this big, there was always something to do. “Uh, no thank you.” He waved that one away – seeming to suggest that in honesty, the only reason he was sitting across from her now was to avoid working. Fair enough. Hicks swung his right leg up onto the bench beside him, now apparently interested in his combat boots, “Never known you to throw a game of chess.” Her eyes flicked back to the pieces in annoyance, “I didn’t, but you weren’t really taking it seriously so there was no point. There’s nothing in an easy victory.” Hicks was right though; it was her favourite game. From the “CHQ MVIII” on her armour, which had now also been transferred to a tattoo just below her right collarbone, always obscured by her blue flight suit. (Which she’d now become partial to wearing when not in combat, for both comfort and the practicality of ad hoc engineering around the ship. Not to get too ‘matchy-matchy’ with her significant other!) To the chess piece around her neck… it was pretty much how her whole relationship had started… “I dunno, I figure distracting you once or twice has given me easy victories.” Rex’s eyes narrowed, “And you think I’ve forgiven you for that!?!” “Well if I can beat you then I figure you’re not really the best on the ship.” This time instead of leaning across to hit him, Rexanna grabbed the piece nearest to her and threw it at him, “Shut up!” Hicks merely laughed, “Have any of the newbies beaten you yet?” “No!” She was clearly falling for his teasing at the way her voice was pitching - damn him! “I better teach ‘em that all you gotta do is mention-” “And how is that gonna work now, jackass!” She picked up another piece, “Don’t make me throw another at you!” His laugh turned into a full-blown cackle before he calmed a little – smile still mischievous as he looked to her. “Frost, Spunkmeyer and Wierzbowski still got that stupid bet on how long it’s going to take anyone to figure out your relationship?” “I still think they should have had bets on the newbies thinking it’s us, but that’s just me.” Rex gave a shrug, “I think so. It’s not out there… it’s not hidden. It just is. Some of them know, I’m surprised they haven’t told the others… unless they’re getting hush money!” Hicks picked up one of his bishops and studied it with interest, “They do seem to keep thinking we’re a thing.” “You’re not exactly pointing out that you have a girlfriend, are you.” “Well I think I’d much rather be out in space with her than you, but that’s just me.” Rex folded her arms, squinting and mouth open, but didn’t even rise to it, “You wouldn’t be out here without me Hicks and you know it.” “Utterly lost!” He grinned and put the piece back down. Before his smile faded a little as he looked curiously behind her, “Ooop! Your man is here to pick you up.”

Rex twisted around in her seat, and sure enough now standing in the doorway of the mess hall was Bishop. She tried not to immediately beam about it – but knew this only meant one thing. Mother had picked up a few knocks here and there with some of the ship’s internals and although not serious, they needed fixing. Rex had been putting it off until they had enough down time and no other work to do… apparently that time had come. She offered a wave, before indicating that she’d be two minutes. He nodded politely, before she turned back to Hicks. “Yeah, guess I now have work to do!” “Aw man, you jinxed it!” Her best friend appeared momentarily sympathetic before his eyes narrowed, “Work? With Bishop? C’mon Rex, where are you really going? I know it ain’t work!” “Do you want a functioning ship or not? We’ve been putting this fix off for weeks!” “Yeah, uh huh, sure!” Hicks raised his eyebrows at her to indicate he believed otherwise, “Have fun getting your fix.” Rex hated that she could feel her cheeks heating, “Screw you!” “Sounds like that’s what’s gonna happen to you, honey.” “If I wasn’t so scared for my life of what Ripley would do to me once we got back, I’d kill you.” Hicks grinned a little wider, “That’s my girl! Also, if we’re being honest, as you can’t survive without me, you’d be throwing yourself out an airlock far before that.” Point noted – but Rexanna wouldn’t say it out loud. She pulled her feet out from under the bench and made a motion to stand, but Hicks was intent on keeping her there as long as possible – now studying more chess pieces. “Hey, didn’t you play against his creator, once?” She was glad for a moment she hadn’t mentally checked out of the conversation already, or she might have taken a while to pick up the train of thought going on here. Hicks was referring to Bishop’s designer and the lead engineer on the 341-B project. “Michael? Yeaaah, what about it?” “Didn’t you win?” Rex wondered if he was being facetious. “No.” “No?!” Hicks genuinely looked surprised when he looked up, “I thought you got what you wanted?” “I did get what I played him for…” essentially the agreement that once Bishop became an ‘obsolete’ model in Wey-Yu’s eyes, and especially in the eyes of their USCM missions, instead of being deactivated he would become completely Rex’s responsibility. She expected Android law to have progressed by then, but, until such a time, if this protected him it was the least she could do. “…I didn’t win.” “Fair enough. I won’t bring up any more of your losses, I was trying to big you up.” Rex scoffed, “Against a multiple time world chess champion? Try again – remind me of all the times I beat Hudson,” she leaned in, giving her hands purchase to push herself back and away from the table, “or you!” Hicks laughed again, “No chance!” Rex stepped back a few paces, grinning at her best friend, “Alright, I gotta go – enjoy your single life on the ship, Hicks!” “Yeah well, at least I don’t have to hide away any time I want some action and pretend I’m working-!” This time Rexanna laughed, winking at him before turning, “You’re just jealous!” She held a hand up in a wave goodbye, “See ya!”

Bishop was leaning against the wall outside as she rounded the corner; amused by her friends jabs as much as anything else. She’d get him back later. “Rexanna…” “Sorry-! To be honest I’m not sure if that conversation was worth finishing. But I’m good now… this is about the fix we’ve been putting off right?” “Yes.” He regarded her steadily, “This is… about work.” Catching on, she flicked her eyes back in the direction she’d come from, “Y- Yes, I know.” “Didn’t seem that’s what you and Hicks were talking about.” She very nearly snorted, “I think he was joking with me, but that isn’t what I was expecting anyway. I knew this had to be done… down time comes after, that’s okay with me!” She beamed, walking in step with him, offering a wink that was only met with a look of mild disapproval.

***

They were so close as they walked towards the source of the issue that they found hands and arms almost constantly brushing – pretty soon causing their fingers to entwine. They didn’t let go at any point after that, including as they had to descend several flights of stairs – instead Bishop would walk first in order to keep her steady. Like a gentleman (as he so often was). Sometimes he made Rex wonder why anyone would rather be with a human male – honestly just one mission with any of the guys she’d been posted with would likely put you off for life. Except maybe Hicks – but of course she’d make that exception for her best friend. Even when they came across others in corridors the connection between them was never severed, even if it meant side stepping or doing some more awkward single file walking.

They’d been together a while by now, but any situation like this always made something spark within Rexanna – she never knew if it was excitement or dread, but it was definitely anticipation of what would happen. What would their reaction be; what would his reaction be. So often before she’d unconsciously worried that he would drop her hand at the slightest sign of conflict or disapproval. Which took to Rex holding him just that little bit tighter every time they came to that impasse. Bishop picked this up so quickly that at this point the only way Rex was going to make him let go was if she dropped his hand first. On the ship where most people knew, she was much more relaxed about it; and with any of the first-time fliers, Rex was ranked high enough that staring them down would get them to drop any look of uncertainty.

Eventually she realised they had got this far without much conversation. Normally that would have been fine; they both knew exactly the issue to fix here and silence was always comfortable between them. In all honesty when she had to spend the majority of her day giving orders to the other engineers or fighting her way through marine banter, returning to a comfortable silence with Bishop was heaven. Everything else was simply exhausting. They didn’t really need words to know how each other was feeling. He could simply hold his arms out for her and that would be enough.

Yet, Rexanna hadn’t seen him all morning – and right now it was like she was neglecting to ask about his day. She turned, “Hey, I thought you’d come and collect me earlier. You weren’t around when I woke up, but considering I had no other work to do, I thought you might leave me a note or something to meet you down here…!” “Oh.” Bishop smiled, “No, I had to run some diagnostics. Still got a few to finish later, you can help, if you like?” “On yourself? Sure… You okay?” “I’m fine – it’s just routine.” He gave a shrug, “Then I thought we ought to be getting on with this before it got too late.” Rex could agree with that, “Routine? You sure?” Ever since she’d found those weird lines of three-laws-defying code in him that he kept rewriting, she had to admit there was a certain level of paranoia that Wey-Yu would find some way of wiping them out of him. “Well…” She didn’t like the pause, this time stopping their walk to actively stare at him. She loosened her fingers from Bishop’s – as if to emphasise the importance of his next answer. “…It’s just upgrades, Ree, you don’t need to worry. I promise. But there are some data chip changes I need to do.” His voice was so gentle with that particular use of her name that she believed him instantly. But she had other issues, chewing her lip momentarily and looking away from the weight of his own stare. Even now sometimes she couldn’t hold those eyes of his. Truth was, she might have got his promise – might even have been given a written contract with a signature… but she didn’t trust Michael and the company one bit. What annoyed Rex most was she didn’t have a choice.

Instead, she made something more like a joke of the situation, continuing their walk. “In 100 years I'll be nothing but dust, and you'll still be walking around upgrading yourself!” Bishop’s response was to chuckle, and she smiled just to hear him laugh, “You don't know that! There could be many medical advancements between now and then.” Funnily enough he said it with every ounce of seriousness, so it was Rexanna’s turn to laugh, “Well they better hurry the hell up or I'll be too old! By that point they better put my brain in an android!” She didn’t know if she were joking or not, but Bishop looked across to her, then looked away with a little smile. “That... would be agreeable.” Rex shook her head, before nudging him playfully with her shoulder; “Yeah, I bet!” She was smiling, and her joke was meant to be throw away… then suddenly she found herself really thinking on it. Her smile faded.

Not due to unhappiness but curiosity – every now and then this was something Rex would think on. There were a lot of things she couldn’t give Bishop that an android partner could. They would be able to understand a lot of mechanical grievances; and that never ending fight for better rights. He was an Equal Opportunity Advisor for the USCM after all. Rex could live her life blissfully and never come into contact with any of that. She tried to be an active ally, for obvious reasons – but did she really give him the support he wanted… or needed? She couldn’t help but voice it: “Would you… like that?” “Like what?” She got the feeling Bishop knew, but wanted her to voice the question anyway. “If I was in an androids’ body instead of mine?” If it was still her just less flesh and bone and more circuit boards and circulation fluid. “I mean would that even be the same to you?” Bishop suddenly frowned so hard that Rexanna thought he might have malfunctioned – this time she held his stare just because of how disbelieving it was; and she was starting to feel like she’d asked something wrong. Her lips parted to say something, anything at this point that would get that look off his face. Bishop spoke first. “No.” There was a hanging silence again, Rex blinked. “S-Sorry, to which part?” “All of it. Why would I want that?” “Well, like I say… my life is so finite. As long as you have a way to keep upgrading… I’ll be long gone by the time anything happens to you. If I was an android I could… be around for so much longer.” He stepped a little closer to her, “Rex.” It was too late; she was spiralling, “I don’t know, maybe that’d be better for you. My life won’t be long enough for either of us – even with the wonders of tech, and you’ll outlive me for so long!” Would he be able to go on without her? Did Rex really want the answer to that question? “Rexanna. Ree. Don’t do that. Stop.” He took her hands back in his, but, as she kept talking Bishop moved his hands to her arms, pulling her closer before placing his forehead gently to hers. “Hey.” Silence again, except she could hear the pounding of her heart inside her head. Brown eyes wide as they looked between his. “You wouldn’t be you. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.” Snaking his left hand down her right arm he traced Rex’s tattoo – a swirl of stars and nebulae - before interlinking their fingers, “You don’t think the reason you are so complex and so… human is part of the reason I fell for you?” She wasn’t really one for blushing, but Rex knew she was getting hot – and he was giving her very little room. Even now Bishop still had troubles with personal space. If Rex backed up, she knew she was about to hit the steel wall of the ship. She tried to look anywhere but his eyes, searching for something to say and stammering. What exactly was she supposed to say to that. In reality, Bishop wasn’t expecting her to return the favour. And she noticed that his right hand was now clasped around her other wrist, fingers pressing against her pulse point – as if to really hammer what he was saying home. Duly noted.

Though he’d have to remind her, again and again and again…

To break what for her was fast becoming too awkward of a pause, Rex deflected with humour, as her group of marines so often did. “Aw man, and here I thought it was for my stellar good looks!” She made sure her grin was extra cheesy. Bishop’s laugh was almost painful, but his look softened. “Well… perhaps a little of that too.” At least she was giggling and not spiralling; he could cope with that – as apparently this was so funny to her, she ended up collapsing into his shoulder, hiding her face in his flight suit. Or, perhaps Rex was hiding for different reasons… He watched her for a moment, shaking his head, before taking a deep – and unnecessary – breath. “Okay, Ms. Mori. We have a computer to fix. Let’s go.”

Ah, her last name? Now she was in trouble… ***

Rex had fixed plenty of systems like this before - but never in a room that looked quite so compact. Usually equipment like this was afforded areas that were wider, looking a little like rows of servers. For some reason on this ship, they had decided to place it in a cramped space; meaning instead of having rows of modules with gaps in between, they were all stacked on top of each other and screwed into the walls. Not only that, but it must have been stuffed into a tight angled part of the ship - given that the ceiling was an unusual hexagonal shape that seemed to cave in on itself. And there were modules screwed into that too. The saving grace was it was brightly lit. Unsurprisingly, everything they had to fix was up there. Both because a) of course it wasn’t on the floor, and b) it was most likely the weird angles that were causing issues. Rex swivelled in place to Bishop, eyebrow raised, pointing a finger to the ceiling; “Guess we’re climbing?” “Mhm.” He affirmed, before giving her an equally disbelieving look, “You think they’d design this a bit better though.” “Hopefully we fix it well enough for this to be the one time it comes up, but I foresee further issues..!” “Fixing it once in almost 2 years?” Bishop admired that hope and optimism, “I doubt it.” “Yeah,” Rexanna sighed gently, “me too.”

On the far wall, it seemed that the company were quite prepared for engineers to fix any faults in this room; a storage locker conveniently labelled “tools” (as if they wouldn’t have bought their own? Well… at least Bishop had remembered to!) and several cables and harnesses tied neatly together that ran all the way to sturdy looking hooks in the ceiling. At least they’d assist in climbing: but what an effort! Rex puffed out her cheeks with an eye roll; this was going to be a long day.

Before she hooked herself up to ascend though… Rex patted down the pockets of her flight suit, wait… She cursed herself for a moment; surely she didn’t forget them!? Usually she had at least one in a pocket somewhere!! Bishop cleared his throat, and as Rex looked to him she realised he’d known exactly what she was looking for - extending his hand out with a hair tie. “And that’s why I love you.” She took it from him gratefully pulling her dark hair up into it, before smiling, with a gentle, “thank you.” That didn’t perturb him from his joke, though. “Thought it’d be for much more than that.” Bishop bumped his arm against hers as he passed, ready to set himself up for the climb. Rex couldn’t help snorting; “You mean your good looks, right?!” Although he wasn’t facing her, she could hear that smile in his voice. “Something like that.”

It didn’t take them long to attach the harnesses and ropes. Luckily they wouldn’t need to also pull a tool box up with them, as the harnesses came with handy tool belts; and anything they couldn’t fit in there was transferred into flight suit pockets. In reality, it wasn’t necessarily so much of a climb, but having to pull yourself up to the level you wanted. Not so bad for him, she supposed, but an arduous task when this whole fix would require you using your arms. There must have been an easier way to do it…?

Rex thought hard, staring at the rope in her hands for a long time. Either she’d missed something Bishop had said or he was just being extra patient with her, because he hadn’t moved to start either. Staring intently in silence and waiting for her to say whatever she was thinking. And then it clicked. “Oh my god…” she said softly, before laughing, “of course!” Seemingly Bishop knew she was about to say something typically Rex by the subsequent look on his face. “Mother, could you please disengage the artificial gravity in this room?”

There was a beat with no noise. Rex wasn’t even sure if she expected Mother to answer them. Sometimes Mother liked to remain silent when working on things and sometimes she could be overly… motherly.

Her eyes flicked across to Bishop’s as if to tell him it was at least worth a shot; but as Rexanna did so she noticed her clothes begin to rise, followed by her dog tags; escaping her flight suit and threatening to send the chess piece attached (a Bishop, what else?) sailing to the ceiling if she didn’t keep hold of it. Before long, her feet were hovering off the floor as it really kicked in. That unsteady moment when Rex was never sure if she’d remain floating or suddenly crash back down in a heap. The latter had happened many a time - especially when people weren’t expecting it! Luckily the Zero-G held and they found themselves free floating to the top of the room where the work was needed. This time the ropes served as anchors to make sure that they weren’t drifting off away from where they were meant to be. Hopefully no one would decide to check on them, or they were in for a nasty shock. Else the gravity would reengage and Rex would find herself with angry red marks where her harness caught her sudden weight in quite a large fall.

It would be no good doing this if you were afraid of heights.

The lack of gravity worked wonders; they could effectively “swim” to exactly where they were needed. That would save them some energy; or, maybe a couple of percent on having to recharge later. Though Rex couldn’t help but look over to Bishop for approval. He could tell, of course, so he made her wait for it. Luckily this time his stare included a blink or two. “Well I wasn’t going to say it until it worked - but that is a pretty efficient idea, yes.” Rex couldn’t help but give a little wiggle of a happy dance at this - Bishop just shook his head at her. Sometimes she could get so happy at the tiniest of things. She was still a mystery to him by all accounts. But he liked that.

She held her tongue for the first few minutes of work - because she actually thought she’d miscalculated - if they needed to remove panels and screws, they risked them soaring off out of reach; and if they were very unlucky, either screws lost, or further damage created they didn’t need to fix. This fear was soon abated when Rexanna realised that everything stayed firmly locked in even once unscrewed. Even those screws had a limit and didn’t come fully out of the plates. The only thing she really need to keep an eye on was her data pad; making sure she was fixing and rewiring all the right parts, before moving onto the next one. They kept a back-and-forth dialogue to ensure everything was covered. And other than that, no small talk passed between them. They stuck to task. Professional. It was probably the main reason they were allowed to go on so many of these colonisation - or ATMOS - missions together. Because work was work; and the relationship came after or between those moments. They knew how to keep things separate. So separate that there were still several newer marines that, even about a year or so into this one, hadn’t figured it out yet. They probably worked better together than most science and engineering teams in the entire Wey-Yu USCM roster. And, in this strictly professional way, they scaled themselves across their entire engineering fix.

***

After screwing her last panel into place Rexanna glanced over her shoulder. Bishop was studying the data pad - having long since finished his section (of course, he had precision and efficiency she didn’t). This would at least tell him if all systems were back to functioning. She waited… and waited… He looked up slowly, almost as if he didn’t know she was looking for the green light. “We’ll probably have to test it. But I would say everything looks nominal here.” He jabbed the pad with his index finger, “we at least fixed everything on the list.”

This was good enough for Rex! Who punched the air. They’d been up here a few hours at least; it had been more work than she initially expected. And they were working in Zero-G; not as easy as she’d hoped. Speaking of… now she was up here, she had less clue of how exactly to get back to the floor… If she asked Mother to reengage the gravity that presented the “all my weight at once” problem of before - likely not a slow process… Though then they could just abseil down… easy!

Bishop watched Rexanna look down to the bottom - the expression of concentration on her face that showed how her thought patterns were figuring their way out of this. “You know,” he spoke up, “I have a system that can engage artificial gravity. I could just float us down to the ground again.” “What?!” Rex’s eyes widened, “You do! Well that saves me a lot of hard thought!” She grinned. He pressed his lips together, thinking, “I mean you have to get to me, but, I’m sure you can manage that.” “Pretty sure I’ve been through hell and back and almost died that one time to finally get to you, so… yeah. A lack of gravity is not going to stop me!” Without warning Rex pushed herself off the wall - it didn’t have quite the desired speed; but she let her rope out enough to sail across the expanse to him. He’d at least pushed himself out to just about the middle of the room by that point anyway.

Realising there was very little to slow herself down now except Bishop, Rexanna latched herself to him; legs tangling with his and clinging to his shoulders. “Uhhhh-! Not sure this is quite what I had in mind-!” He was busy trying to balance both to not send them careering into a wall - but he chuckled; voice teasing. “Funny, because I was.” Rex’s eyes narrowed “Huh?” “I got you over here. And that was the plan.” The silence of her disbelief really said everything, “… The extent of your plan was… Did you just lie to me!?” It took a while for Bishop’s smile to crack, but once it did Rex knew she had absolutely been played. “Well…” One hand fell to her hip; and it brought back memories of the first time he’d teased her, “it wasn’t the extent of my plan. No.” “Oh? What was then?” Because no matter what; they did have to get down. So, he better have a way!

His smile was gentle, and he pressed his forehead back to hers, as he had in the hallway to calm her. “This…” His deep voice lowered to something gentle, not quite a whisper. Bishop closed the gap between them, lips to hers. Rex’s eyes closed on contact, hands tangling in his flight suit as she pulled him a little closer, savouring that contact. He kept her steady in their free float – the hand not on her hip supporting her back; running in soothing circles. He pulled away ever so slightly; but that was another tease, because he knew Rexanna wasn’t going to let him get away with it, before she pulled him in for a deeper one. Oh yeah, this was way better than getting to the ground. Rex was getting to experience a Zero-G kiss! (And how many people could say that, in honesty!?)

***

The next time they really got a quiet moment together was late into the evening, after having to fend off a million comments when Hicks decided to loudly proclaim that the last thing they’d been doing for the past three hours was fixing the ships systems, and the entire table decided to join in. If Rex had hoped anything would go that way this evening, by the time she’d made it back to their room she was exhausted.

They had finally made it down from the precarious situation of turning the gravity back on by Bishop having Rexanna continue to wrap her body around his and taking the full force of gravity and her weight by himself. After she suggested that might hurt, he came back with the cheeky quip of, “I’m used to it.” …She rather thought it might be the other way around, but wouldn’t argue.

In fact by the time she’d had enough of her crew mates and declared she was turning in for the night - which earned numerous pretty crude jeers (and several people swift smacks to the back of the head; not least Hicks for causing all this) - Bishop was already back to the room and settled. On a ship that was somehow even bigger than the Sulaco had been, and on their third such mission, Rexanna and Bishop had been afforded their own room. Small, pretty cramped, and not really enough for two people in one space without some tricky navigation – but still, theirs. Which at this point sure beat bunking with every other marine she knew.

Bishop looked up as the door slid open, she stepped inside with a blown-out breath and a shake of her head. “That good, huh?” “Dinner was dinner – you know what it’s like… it’s everyone else.” A small smile, “Oh. I can imagine your best friend was at his most helpful.” Rexanna’s laugh was almost pained, “You got it.”

“As for dinner, I could have made you some myself, but…” Bishop indicated to the state of himself – ports open and skin pulled back in several places. She was surprised that there was no sign of white circulation fluid everywhere. “Oh shit,” she sounded surprised, “when you said upgrades…” “Oh yes.” He nodded, “The company sent along some new data chips, as I said, so I thought they were worth installing.” “Mhm.” But this many? Wow. Rex wondered momentarily if that shipment had anything to do with her – and then thought she was better off not knowing. She approached the side of the bed, sitting gently so as not to jostle him. Sensing she had no more to say than that, and would be content with watching him, Bishop went back to installing the little chips – clicking them into place. Absentmindedly Rex’s fingers went to her necklace, twisting around the chess piece, and then her dog tags. With both these things was a very old data chip of his from when he had previously been fixed up on a mission. Tech that had become obsolete almost as soon as it was made. It would just have been destroyed otherwise – but there was something about this piece that felt too real to Rex. And too surreal as well; being a previous part of his memory core.

She pushed herself across the bed to him as inconspicuously as possible, folding her legs under herself. He’d continue on as normal, of course. Bishop didn’t have that horrible feeling any human did of being watched – and certainly wasn’t one to make any mistakes because of it. Rexanna had a sudden realisation, while watching him. Well – maybe not a realisation, maybe just a resurfacing of something she’d known for a long time, but had kept pushing down. Something she’d almost reached with her spiral earlier before he’d stopped her. But it was so out in the open now that it was unavoidable. She placed her hand gently on Bishop’s free arm, sliding it slowly to entwine their fingers. Even now there was something Rex quite liked about the difference in their skin tones; it never failed to surprise her just how pale he was in contrast to the darker tanned complexion she had. Rexanna realised that beneath that fairly superficial surface (literally), she was just contemplating her own mortality. And, in a strange way, his too. Eventually there would be no more upgrades – he’d be an old, obsolete, discontinued model. To her that almost seemed a worse fate than death. Did he care about things like that? Did he even think about them? Even with whatever agreement she had with Michael Bishop now – which would save him from being scrapped completely – at some point technology would advance so much it just wouldn’t be compatible. She’d would fight long and hard to make sure this wouldn’t happen. But what about after her? How would he cope after that? She’d age and die but Bishop never would. He was a collection of data chips: metal and plastic... No. That was wrong to say. Even if the truth. He was as human as she was – she’d spent the better part of their first mission together relaying that information. There was no debate in her mind at all that he was alive. But…

Bishop paused his working, glancing up to Rex watching him. Although realising that she wasn’t really watching him anymore – he’d lost her again, inside the void of thoughts within her head. He wasn’t sure why today of all days she was going through it. He knew it happened from time to time, but Rexanna didn’t often get this bad. “Ree…” He prompted gently, sounding a little more curious to know her wavelength. He wanted to affirm at least where she was heading. Whether he could bring her back or not. Her expression was almost one of puzzlement too, as she traced her eyes along the inner workings that were still visible, and the small pile of chips he still had to install. “That’s your heart and soul... what makes you, you... without that you-” He cut her off, now very aware that he was correct. All Bishop had managed to do earlier was pause the journey, but it was clear that the ship had left the space station and wouldn’t be back until it’s travels were complete. “Yes, but, it can all be replaced, I mean you’re wearing one, and I’m still the same as I was.” As much as he had a point, that didn’t feel the same to her. Around her neck was a fix out of necessity – he wouldn’t be here without it. This seemed like compliance. For the hell of it. Because technology just would not slow down… She almost laughed. Really, Rexanna was wrong – it was just a different kind of necessity. And at the end of it all, something she couldn’t do. She’d joked about her mind in an android body earlier – but to a point, she was envious that he could just upgrade or fix himself like this. It all seemed too easy. “And I’m just human... I... I’m not gonna last like...” Rex gasped. Seemingly out of nowhere she pulled back from him, placing a hand over mouth, before tears spiked. Bishop was quick to spring into action; snapping everything closed – this could wait. “Hey, hey... No... stop... why are you crying? Don’t- don’t think like that!” “Shit-!” Rex said again from behind her hand, “It’s just so hard!” He pulled her closer, fingertips gently brushing the remnants of the first tears from her cheeks, “This isn’t even something you have to acknowledge for years. Why is it all coming up now?” “Because I do have to think about it…” Her voice strained as she tried to stop herself from really crying hard. “I can’t be in the marines and doing this forever. I’m limited. And even if I can still work somewhere… you’ll remain out here. And that’s just the start of it-!” “You’re not limited… And…” He took a deep breath, encouraging Rex to imitate it, in an attempt to help calm her. “You’re nowhere near that. If anything, at least Earth will be safe for you.” His smile was a little crooked, “I know people say you shouldn’t live in the past but… somehow, Rex, you’ve managed to do the complete opposite.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, you’re living in the far future. And, while I admit it’s always good to look to the future… something tells me I’ve been neglecting to tell you to live in the moment.” He made a face for a second as if trying to recall, searching the room as if it had answers, “Or… someone has.” Rexanna groaned gently, burying her face in his chest, making Bishop wind his arms around her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly as she sniffed, “I’m an idiot.” “No, you just let your mind go wandering a little too far sometimes…” He held her closer, pulling the warmth of her body flush to his, “We can think about our mortality and live like that, sure. But, the truth is, neither of us know how long we have, so we have to make the most of this time. That's what matters!” His head tipped, recalling something else he’d read, “Medical advancements are happening all the time. We probably have at least another 100 years. So, you don’t have to worry about anything for minimum the next 99.” She laughed, which is what he wanted, rubbing her eyes – before shaking her head disbelievingly. Bishop didn’t really care if Rex believed him or not, he just wanted that smile back on her face. “Even if I had a hundred years to love you it wouldn’t be long enough.”

He chuckled, “Well, that’s something we can both agree on.”

---

Thank you for reading! 😚💙

#Bishop x OC #Aliens AU #I'm sorry but my favourite part of this entire fic is my space play on the phrase /the train has left the station/#I just.... that little bit made me so proud to come up with I can't even explain! haha!#For my Bishop girlies - you're real ones! <3 #Bishop Aliens #Linzi Writes #Happy Birthday Bee!!!#Happy Friend-Versary Amanda!#Hicks is best BFF #Of course I had to include chess!#Michael Bishop reference cuz it's his fault i'm in this mess / srs #Please tell me everyone read /No/ in his voice like in that scene in Aliens?#The lab one? You did?! Good!#He might be a little OOC? I don't know I really trieeeed!#Fun and Games references but nothing you'll need to read it for!

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