Jyn pushes her hair back as she leans against the pier, railing digging into her back, but it's worth it for the cone of greasy, salty pier fries she's gobbling down like she hasn't eaten in three days.
She ate breakfast, three hours ago.
As far as meeting places go, it might be her favorite, even if she doesn't like the fact that their little team sport had been interrupted for those three hours so Cassian could meet someone that Jyn wasn't allowed to meet. He claims it is because she wouldn't like his contact and she believes him, but she doesn't like the idea of hanging out with someone she wouldn't like. If they're punchable, maybe they are punchable for a reason. Regardless, this means she is waiting, with unpracticed casual ease, for Cassian to meet her at the pier. She looks uneasy.
It also is what makes her mind wander idly to who he is actually meeting -- it would be silly to imagine him with some kind of secret family. That would be absurd. He doesn't have a wedding ring. He doesn't even look at attractive people like they're anything more than people. Jyn isn't even sure if he likes women, but he's never shown any interest in men either. But also maybe he has a secret wife or husband and family he is meeting. It's a weird train of thought that is interrupted when she sese Cassian approaching.
"And you thought I didn't go out in the sun." She's standing in the shade.
Cassian has a lot of contacts in a lot of places, many of whom Jyn would punch in the face, some of which he himself has also punched in the face. Half are criminals, some are just local business owners he wriggled in to know while undercover, some are actual friends he might have known once upon a time - acquaintances, really.
It goes well, if not long, but playing catch up and offering his own favors is the whole way to find success. He finds Jyn still on the pier where he left her and sidles up immediately beside her, stepping into her personal space like he belongs there - it's half normal, half a ruse to reach in and steal some of her fries, immediately shoving them into his mouth so she can't slap them out of his hand. There's an uneasiness in her frame he notices right away but doesn't bring up, and he wonders when he became so sure of his ability to read her correctly. Stealing her food is clearly a good distraction, but also: he's hungry too.
He really does like being near the water, the business a pier town brings. It's easier to blend in. Curling his hand up into a loose fist, he brushes a knuckle on her cheek. "You're already burned. I didn't think it was bad enough to get you even when you're hiding in the shade."
Her hand lifts automatically but they're already in his mouth and her own mouth turns down into a scowl that is lacking any heat and fades into a scrunch of her nose when his hand brushes her cheek.
"Bullshit, I put sunscreen on." She stole sunscreen in order to put it on and it's still sticking out of the pocket of her backpack which is resting on the ground at her feet. Yeah, she stole it and left it in plain sight. She is that kind of person.
Her head tips to look up at him. "I have a surprise for you, but they have skeeball so." She holds out her hand because she needs quarters. Or singles to get quarters, either option works and she spent her pocket money on the fries. (And fried dough. And a slush.) Skeeball first, surprise after.
His grin is smug with the grand theft fry victory, and he finishes chewing, pulling his hand away from her cheek. "It's not red, but it's far pinker than usual."
Cassian, that implies you spend a lot of time looking at her face. Instead of dwelling on that, his gaze drops to the stolen sunscreen, and he snorts. There are far worse things to steal, and he knew before he even met her that she was a criminal. It's not like he hasn't stolen worse at this point.
He blinks down at her hand and makes no movement to give her money. "What kind of surprise?" She's definitely not going to tell him, but he wouldn't be Cassian if he didn't ask anyway. "And what happened to your own money?"
"That was nice," Jyn says, flinging her jacket across their motel room. She meant to have the jacket land on the chair straight out of the seventies in the corner but it lands on the floor instead. She doesn't care, all her bristle of being in London swept away over the course of the night.
She hadn't wanted to come back to London. She hadn't wanted to stay either, but they needed to get Bodhi away from Saw and all of Bodhi's family lived in London so they couldn't just steal him away in order to ask his questions. And then, it turned out, that Jyn and Bodhi got along frighteningly well. So they has stuck around, Jyn growing increasingly more bristly and insisting they eat at the same diner every day which turned out to be a blessed when the owners, a married couple, befriended Jyn. Between the three new friends, Cassian had managed to coax some comfort back out of Jyn with netflix and chip butties and her weird obsession with Great British Bake Off.
It culminated in a family dinner. Jyn had shied away from the title -- Chirrut refused to change it, insisting family is what you make it -- but Cassian had convinced her to go anyway after the diner had closed for the day and he was right. It was fun, she relaxed, there was terrible white girl dancing and delicious food and Jyn's hand had brushed Cassian's maybe one too many times.
She crouches down to unlace her converse, because even in a sundress she will not give up the ability to run very fast if need be. "Even if Bodhi thinks we're..."
He settles his own jacket on the chair, mostly because he doesn't throw it. He's never had a family dinner that he can really remember, even if the idea of calling all these people his family makes him both warm and nervous. Cassian likes the diner as much as he likes any place, and truthfully the routine of it becomes something he adapts eagerly to.
And he can tell Jyn is antsy about being back in London. He tries to help by keeping up their usual traditions, by trying whatever weird foods she attempts to shove at him. Her obsession with the Great British Bake Off is ridiculous but he humors her and always comes back with a cupcake or some other pastry on the nights he knows its on. He's never been to England at all, so there's definitely a part of him still very interested in just exploring it, in seeing Jyn's home city.
There was something about being at the diner just the five of them that felt almost like being home, and it wasn't because they were in London. It didn't feel like it belonged to a place so much as the people. Jyn is arguable the worst dancer, but she always looks so happy doing it, and Cassian will never complain about that. It makes it easier to join in. It makes it easier to pretend all the casual touches are a sign of closeness he's mostly been avoiding.
"It was nice," he agrees, not as reluctant an admittance as it might have been a few months ago. He kicks off his own shoes and sets them down by the door. "He's not the first one to think that," he adds on casually, as if it's no big deal. "We've even wanted people to think it before."
That, it, trailed off sentences, haha it's perfectly normal to avoid any real words here and to avoid thinking about why Bodhi might think so.
"Do we want Bodhi to think it? He's our friend." She tosses her hair over her shoulder to look back at him, fingers scratching at her knotted laces. Every day she double knots them and every night she struggles getting them untied. Right now, she is kind of grateful for her own predictable quirks.
Regardless, she doesn't know if they should let Bodhi believe something that isn't true. Since it's not true. They're not an anything. They're just friends and partners and companions who share a bed (for safety!) and clothes (because Jyn is Jyn) and know the majority of each other's favorites and pet peeves.
She has a point. It's always been strangers, people they'll never see again who made the mistake, but Bodhi isn't someone they're trying to swindle. He frowns for a moment, trying not to get distracted by the way her hair flies over her shoulder. She always takes forever to untie her shoes. He wonders when he realized that.
"Did he - say something to you?"
It's a strange moment when he realizes too it doesn't bother him to have Bodhi think it. He knows how he is with Jyn, and a lot of their behavior as a unit easily comes across as something less than platonic. But if it's not true, they probably should clarify with Bodhi.
He just needs to know what Bodhi actually thinks, first.
This is the most absurd of any of Cassian's aliases. There are a variety of things that Jyn doesn't understand about it. The sideburns, the soul patch, the way he styles his hair, all of the clothes. There's a hat??? She actually likes the shirt, it's cute and she eyes it like she's going to steal it. But the whole look is just something else entirely. She says nothing off it, only arching her eyebrows before she ducks into the bathroom with her bottle of bleach and a pair of scissors -- she doesn't come out until after Cassian leaves for their party, getting dressed and basically running down the street to catch the bus to the subway, etc, etc.
The party is already as equally something else as Cassian's look and Jyn winds through the crowd toward the little DJ set up where Cassian as Raul as DJ Bespin is fussing with his records. Briefly, she ducks behind a tall person, flashing him a flirtatious smile before turning away to ruffle her brand new and very short halo of silvery blonde hair to be casually disheveled. She adjusts her very short dress before twisting around her human shield to lope up to Cassian, taking the tiny stage even as he absentmindedly tells her to get down.
Her hands go to her hips. "Excuse, I was invited."
Even Cassian will agree that this alias is absurd. It always takes a few days to grow in his beard the way he needs to, and he needs to find a new shirt every time because he always ends up losing the old ones. But who knew being in charge of musical dancing endeavors made for good connections. Like most aliases, he's just never done this one with Jyn before.
Swinging between eurodance and pop is the usual easy enough shtick, and even though he looks very focused on the whole disc jockey thing, he's still watching the crowds for any sign of Jyn. Or Annalie, he supposes.
From time to time some of the clubbers like to try and climb into his little stage, and it's easy enough to shoo them away because they're usually wasted. Security helps along the more rowdy and determined people, but most of the time people are more concerned with dancing. The short blonde girl is not the first short blonde girl to try and climb up, his warning slipping out carelessly. But when he hears her voice, he does a visible double take because what the fuck, that's Jyn.
And her hair is short and blonde and her dress is very short.
He muffles his surprise into a smile, a quiet flirty smirk. "Do you have the invitation?"
She flips him off, there is her invitation. As she is doing that, she steps forward to be right next to him, slipping her other hand under his open shirt and pulling herself flush against him, chin tipped up to smile at him, wry with a matching eye roll.
"This is ridiculous, I feel like a fucking trollop." But she seems to have absolutely no problem with his own ensemble. Once her middle finger falls, she lets her hand fall against his chest, cold palm flattening against his tan skin. There are Rules to Undercover but Jyn wrote herself into a slutty club girl so she doesn't have to abide by any of them. "Are you going to play Timber for me, Raul?"
If he isn't she's going to have to start drinking because Jyn isn't a fan of this kind of club music.
Cassian would expect no less, no matter what identity she was trying on. But she steps in and he immediately rethinks the whole open shirt motif and considers just taking off the entire shirt, both at the same time. Despite how cold her hands are all the time, she's still sliding them over bare skin and is very much all up in his business. Good thing they're in the middle of a song. "You decided this," he reminds her.
He cups her cheek, then slides his hand into her hair, still tangled despite the new length. "I need the right moment, but don't worry. I'll play it just for you." He likes that he doesn't need to put on any accents to be Raul, even if there's a different lilt to his voice. He dishevels her hair a little more. "You cut it."
It had been, quite frankly, a shitty month. Their progress until now had been slow but reasonably steady, these last few weeks had been quicker, faster, and... backwards. Whatever headway they seemed to be making toward finding her father had gone backwards. When they'd gotten to where Bodhi had directed them, her father was gone and all that remained was a burned out shell of a factory and a lab and they'd spent the last week picking through the damage to find anything that could help them.
There was nothing.
Both of them were sore, both of them were tired, both of them were frustrated, and their usual easy squabbles that Jyn enjoyed for the intellectual sparring turned into actual fights. Both of them had stormed out on the other, coming back with no apologies, sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. They still wake up tangled around each other, but pull apart quicker, quieter, the easiness of mornings lost to their frustrations.
Jyn had left this morning before either of them could start a fight, going for a run and reading through their text messages from when they actually liked each other. It feels a little bit like they've lost that and it breaks her heart. Her phone chirps as she's tucking it away and her heart stutters, but instead of the text she's hoping for it's simply a calendar notification.
It's a calendar notification that sees her stepping into their room with a single cupcake with a single candle -- both of which bear receipts -- and closing the door behind her. Silently, she lights the candle with his lighter that she stole so he wouldn't fall back on bad habits and tiptoes to bed, perching next to him and offering the cupcake like it's an olive branch.
"I hate fighting with you, but I would rather fight with you than be away from you, so. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the fighting and for leaving and for going to bed angry even though conventional wisdom says that's the worst thing to do." She wants to find her father, she decided that a few months ago, but not at the expense of her relationship with Cassian. "I want to stop fighting because you're more important than whatever we're even fighting about."
After all this time the nerves still flutter around, like she still thinks Cassian is too good for her, that he'll leave and she won't be able to blame him. But she struggles forward regardless, either brave or stupid, she can't decide yet.
It's a very strange balance to walk, that line between his job and how much he cares about Jyn. Sometimes it feels like he might care about her more, which makes the way they keep fighting all the more agonizing. He wants to be in her corner just like he wants her in his. The factory explosion was a setback neither of them were expecting, and it feels like she's blaming him, even though she never says so.
He wouldn't blame her for doing so though. He's dragged her across the globe and they have very little to show for it right now. Their fights are far more emotionally charged than Cassian feels equipt to handle, but they're so wrapped up in each other that they've become an outlet for each other's frustrations.
There's a moment of panic when he wakes up to an empty bed, all too familiar to when she'd ran away after that very first night together. He should text her, check in. He doesn't. He scowls when he realizes she's stolen his lighter, but he can't very well go for a run, because what if he runs into her? She clearly needed some space. He settles for gnawing on a cigarette because he can't bring himself to go buy another lighter either.
Honestly until she walks back into their room with a cupcake and candle flickering, Cassian had kind of forgotten it was his birthday. He'd pushed it aside, because in the face of everything else it didn't seem to matter. It's not like he's celebrated it very often anyway.
She takes him by surprise, stuck in a silence while she comes over and babbles her apologies, and his heart sinks because he's just so tired and he misses her. He misses the easy way her arms wrap around him, the easy way she fits against him, the easy way they just are.
"I am sorry too." There, that's a good start. He takes the cupcake like it's something very precious. He pats the space beside him with his free hand, an invite. "You are so important to me, Jyn. I don't want you to leave and I don't want to let you down. I don't want to fight anymore either."
He looks down at the cupcake, abruptly remembering it's still there. Right. Birthday. He blows it out, then looks back at her face. "Thank you."
She tucks her legs up underneath her, settling comfortably next to him, fingers absently settling on his leg in the same easy way she always does. Even when they're fighting or upset, the way she curls up next to him doesn't change. He is her biggest source of comfort even when he is just existing and sitting next to her.
She rests her chin on his shoulder, contemplating the cupcake. "I realized I don't know how old you are," she mentions, casually, stretching out to snag a dollop of frosting on her finger.
It's only been about a month since the mission ended, since he and Jyn ended up back in the states. It's not the same place he vacated before his whirlwind cross the globe adventure, but he likes this one more. He thinks he'd like any place he stayed, so long as Jyn was there too. His apartment is also Jyn's and the novelty hasn't worn off. They're still together.
December rolls around, and Cassian finds himself digging out his tiny old Christmas tree. It's barely three feet tall, but he used to set it up on a table in the window because his old neighbors had kids who loved to point at it when they walked by. It reminded him of when he was a kid and he'd peer into the church windows at candles, listening to the holiday masses, or the little twinkling lights people would hang from their shutters as he moved from town to town. They were consistent year to year, if different in design. He hasn't had a lot of good Christmases, but maybe this year could be different.
Which is how Jyn will find him when she comes home, the tree bare and a string of lights caped over his shoulders while he winds them through the branches. There's a small box of ornaments on the couch and a single fluff of silver garland neatly wound up beside it. He hears the door open and freezes, like he's been caught with cocaine and not multicolored lightbulbs. It's just a Christmas tree! It's clearly no big deal.
She'd gone into town for food. Junk food specifically because when they go properly grocery shopping they buy actual food that adult human beings are meant to buy, with ingredients and spices and recipes in cups instead of grams because Imperial is garbage. Jyn had gone back for crisps and biscuits and ice cream and then more biscuits and crisps even though they're called chips and cookies here.
Rubbish.
She shifts the bag on her hip, setting her keys down on the table by the door, and squints at whatever Cassian is doing. Since when do they have a Christmas tree? She supposes she doesn't know a lot of the stuff Cassian has still in storage and it isn't like she had anything at all to offer their apartment aside from herself. Almost everything was already Cassian's, the rest housewarming gifts from Bodhi and the Damerons and Baze and Chirrut.
"I didn't know we had a tree," she starts casually, setting the bag down on the counter to start taking the snacks out of it, watching Cassian's progress.
He just has to start decorating again, instead of standing here like an idiot. But suddenly he's struck with the thought that she doesn't like Christmas. Should he have talked to her first? They've been together so long, but there's still a lot of new ground to navigate with real adulthood cohabitation and relationshipping.
"It was in storage," is where he starts, peeking over at the snacks she starts to take out before he finally dives his hand between the branches to weave more of the lights through it. He finishes up that section and pauses again. "I used to put it up by the window."
Which is where he has it up again now, even though he's not sure if there are any kids that live nearby yet. "Do you... mind it?"
Being back in the saddle of working with Cassian is easier than she expected. And ten times harder this time. They don't have the emotional baggage of Jyn's father to deal with and they don't have to sleep in shit motel rooms and steal swimsuits because Jyn refuses to pay for them, but there are different hurdles to, well, hurdle.
Mainly that they are currently ensconced in a cookie cutter home on the curve of a cul de sac full of other cookie cutter homes, all with perfectly manicured lawns, SUVs full of children with gluten intolerences and dubious vaccinations named Paisleigh and Kashton and Oaklynn and Jaxxon, and women who sip Chardonnay at ten in the morning and call it "Mommy Juice".
Luckily they have neither a child or an SUV, though Jyn is just as offended by their reasonably priced mid-size sedan. It's a Volvo! Cassian's motorcycle had to stay hibernating in Baze and Chirrut's garage and Jyn's still annoyed about it, even though they've been here and "moved in" for two full weeks. Instead of a child they have a small dog who likes to go running with Jyn in the morning even if the little pooch narrowly avoids getting run over by jogging moms pushing Bugaboo strollers holding snuggled up future lacrosse players. Already Jyn is plotting how to keep Hank the rescue pup when this is all over.
They're the picture of a happily married power couple newly moved into their forever home or whatever bullshit phrase it is, complete with a framed copy of their wedding invitation that announces the wedding of Augusta Hazel Candelet and Javier Tomás Miguel Diaz García. At least the pictures that dot the house are real; Jyn and Cassian on the top of Mount Washington, in front of the sunset at the end of a pier, a candid of them holding hands at the diner courtesy of Baze and another of them on the couch with Jyn's legs drapped over his lap courtesy of Chirrut. It's completed with a stupid sign inside the front hall that says "home sweet home" in lowercase cursive over a stamp of DIAZ in all caps block print.
Etsy would shit itself over their home.
Jyn, Aggie, is not as into it. What she is into is the lush garden she can play around in and the in ground pool her husband is currently cleaning after a brisk breeze blew all her pruning into the water. Jyn had cackled when Cassian sighed and pushed himself up from where the was reading at the patio table, but now that he is cleaning the pool in the bright sun with his shirt off, she doesn't feel bad at all.
That is until their stupid $500 highlights neighbor Arabella poked her head over the roses Jyn is pruning with a sly look on her face. "I see the secret to your happy marriage," she teases with a knowing look on her expression.
Jyn wants to know what the fuck she knows. "Yeah? What's that?"
"The pool boy of course!" Arabella chitters with laughter that doesn't move her botoxed face, gesturing toward Cassian at the pool. "A steamy affair with an exotic foreign pool boy is so overdone but sometimes it's just what you need, isn't it!"
Jyn blinks for a moment before standing up languidly and pushing a conspiratorial smile onto her expression, pushing her long bangs back from her face. Arabella may look like a model in her Lululemon leggings and off the shoulder top that says conserve water, drink champagne in silver sparkles, but Jyn seems to perfect the artfully disheveled top knot and put together but effortless jeans and slightly oversized sweater look that Arabella obviously covets. "That's my husband, Mr Diaz." A beat. "Javier, cariño," she calls back to Cassian. "Why don't you come meet our neighbor."
He likes this much better than when she was on the oil rig. They get to stay in a nice house, they get to be in the same place, there's a dog that Cassian is pretty positive is going to come home with them when this is all over. It's almost too idyllic a house, but he has to admit he likes the pictures. When Draven asked him for some good ones of the two of them, he'd been confused, but the sight of them happy around the house makes him happy, even if they are temporarily posing as Javier and Augusta. Those are going to come back to their real home with them too.
Outside is better. Jyn has a garden, which Cassian specifically asked for to make sure there was something she'd enjoy, and the pool is very nice too. They've already made use of it several times over, and she keeps trying to convince him to have sex in the pool, but he keeps panicking because their neighbors always seem to be out and about.
Like Arabella now.
He might have rolled his eyes when Jyn laughed at the sudden mess of leaves, but cleaning it means he doesn't have to deal with her gossip. He can hear most of what the woman is saying, her attempt to be subtle is not subtle at all and speaks volumes to what she thinks about the pool boy, but he has to bite back a smirk at Jyn's very easy reply, immediately picking up on what she's doing. Suburban undercover is much different from their life on the go, but Cassian is still very used to pretending to be other people. Javier is just a new sort of persona.
Dumping the soggy leaves onto the ground, he comes over with carefully cool steps, dropping his arm around her waist with ease and kissing Jyn's cheek. The word husband does funny things to his chest, but kissing her is never unwelcome even if he's still shirtless.
"Making friends already, Aggilita?" Surprise, she has another nickname now, and if he went with the hella Spanish version, that's clearly just a coincidence. "I am Javier, I have seen you around. Isabella, was it?"
He knows it's Arabella, but if she can be a dick, he can be a dick. He's just better at making it sound like a pure accident.
Cassian gives her a little Spanish nickname and she melts a little bit, smiling up at him. Maybe the secret to their happy marriage is that, gasp, they love each other. Shocking.
Cassian throws down a Spanish nickname and Jyn takes it a full leap forward.
"Dios, te amo, maldito idiota. Su nombre es Arabella, no Isabella. Me encanta cuando no hablan español." She knows that Arabella not Isabella can't speak Spanish because she called Jyn's husband exotic, but she'll recognize her own name and know she's being talked about. She also won't realize that Jyn's own Spanish still has a British lilt to it and she is simply never going to be as fully fluent as Cassian but their years together have at least made her moderately fluent.
She gestures toward Arabella, even as she loops her own arm around Cassian's waist, nudging his arm up to curl around her shoulders. It does not escape her that he is still shirtless so she isn't going to make him linger without a shirt, even if she really loves the warmth coming off his sun soaked chest.
"Arabella is our neighbor, darling, she was just noting how lovely it is that you actually clean out the pool."
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ohnofeelstho2017-03-22 04:13 pm
no subject
“ask not what you can do for your country. ask what’s for lunch.”
She ate breakfast, three hours ago.
As far as meeting places go, it might be her favorite, even if she doesn't like the fact that their little team sport had been interrupted for those three hours so Cassian could meet someone that Jyn wasn't allowed to meet. He claims it is because she wouldn't like his contact and she believes him, but she doesn't like the idea of hanging out with someone she wouldn't like. If they're punchable, maybe they are punchable for a reason. Regardless, this means she is waiting, with unpracticed casual ease, for Cassian to meet her at the pier. She looks uneasy.
It also is what makes her mind wander idly to who he is actually meeting -- it would be silly to imagine him with some kind of secret family. That would be absurd. He doesn't have a wedding ring. He doesn't even look at attractive people like they're anything more than people. Jyn isn't even sure if he likes women, but he's never shown any interest in men either. But also maybe he has a secret wife or husband and family he is meeting. It's a weird train of thought that is interrupted when she sese Cassian approaching.
"And you thought I didn't go out in the sun." She's standing in the shade.
papitas
It goes well, if not long, but playing catch up and offering his own favors is the whole way to find success. He finds Jyn still on the pier where he left her and sidles up immediately beside her, stepping into her personal space like he belongs there - it's half normal, half a ruse to reach in and steal some of her fries, immediately shoving them into his mouth so she can't slap them out of his hand. There's an uneasiness in her frame he notices right away but doesn't bring up, and he wonders when he became so sure of his ability to read her correctly. Stealing her food is clearly a good distraction, but also: he's hungry too.
He really does like being near the water, the business a pier town brings. It's easier to blend in. Curling his hand up into a loose fist, he brushes a knuckle on her cheek. "You're already burned. I didn't think it was bad enough to get you even when you're hiding in the shade."
excuse u, they're chips
"Bullshit, I put sunscreen on." She stole sunscreen in order to put it on and it's still sticking out of the pocket of her backpack which is resting on the ground at her feet. Yeah, she stole it and left it in plain sight. She is that kind of person.
Her head tips to look up at him. "I have a surprise for you, but they have skeeball so." She holds out her hand because she needs quarters. Or singles to get quarters, either option works and she spent her pocket money on the fries. (And fried dough. And a slush.) Skeeball first, surprise after.
sounds fake but ok
Cassian, that implies you spend a lot of time looking at her face. Instead of dwelling on that, his gaze drops to the stolen sunscreen, and he snorts. There are far worse things to steal, and he knew before he even met her that she was a criminal. It's not like he hasn't stolen worse at this point.
He blinks down at her hand and makes no movement to give her money. "What kind of surprise?" She's definitely not going to tell him, but he wouldn't be Cassian if he didn't ask anyway. "And what happened to your own money?"
i will fight you
ur 2 smol
HOW VERY DARE YOU
i dare all the time
dead 2 me
haunts you
you're a monster
im a ghost
banishes!
boo
SHRIEKS
2 spoopy
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good foods good moods good smooches
She hadn't wanted to come back to London. She hadn't wanted to stay either, but they needed to get Bodhi away from Saw and all of Bodhi's family lived in London so they couldn't just steal him away in order to ask his questions. And then, it turned out, that Jyn and Bodhi got along frighteningly well. So they has stuck around, Jyn growing increasingly more bristly and insisting they eat at the same diner every day which turned out to be a blessed when the owners, a married couple, befriended Jyn. Between the three new friends, Cassian had managed to coax some comfort back out of Jyn with netflix and chip butties and her weird obsession with Great British Bake Off.
It culminated in a family dinner. Jyn had shied away from the title -- Chirrut refused to change it, insisting family is what you make it -- but Cassian had convinced her to go anyway after the diner had closed for the day and he was right. It was fun, she relaxed, there was terrible white girl dancing and delicious food and Jyn's hand had brushed Cassian's maybe one too many times.
She crouches down to unlace her converse, because even in a sundress she will not give up the ability to run very fast if need be. "Even if Bodhi thinks we're..."
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And he can tell Jyn is antsy about being back in London. He tries to help by keeping up their usual traditions, by trying whatever weird foods she attempts to shove at him. Her obsession with the Great British Bake Off is ridiculous but he humors her and always comes back with a cupcake or some other pastry on the nights he knows its on. He's never been to England at all, so there's definitely a part of him still very interested in just exploring it, in seeing Jyn's home city.
There was something about being at the diner just the five of them that felt almost like being home, and it wasn't because they were in London. It didn't feel like it belonged to a place so much as the people. Jyn is arguable the worst dancer, but she always looks so happy doing it, and Cassian will never complain about that. It makes it easier to join in. It makes it easier to pretend all the casual touches are a sign of closeness he's mostly been avoiding.
"It was nice," he agrees, not as reluctant an admittance as it might have been a few months ago. He kicks off his own shoes and sets them down by the door. "He's not the first one to think that," he adds on casually, as if it's no big deal. "We've even wanted people to think it before."
That, it, trailed off sentences, haha it's perfectly normal to avoid any real words here and to avoid thinking about why Bodhi might think so.
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Regardless, she doesn't know if they should let Bodhi believe something that isn't true. Since it's not true. They're not an anything. They're just friends and partners and companions who share a bed (for safety!) and clothes (because Jyn is Jyn) and know the majority of each other's favorites and pet peeves.
But also Jyn wouldn't mind.
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"Did he - say something to you?"
It's a strange moment when he realizes too it doesn't bother him to have Bodhi think it. He knows how he is with Jyn, and a lot of their behavior as a unit easily comes across as something less than platonic. But if it's not true, they probably should clarify with Bodhi.
He just needs to know what Bodhi actually thinks, first.
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one good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.
This is the most absurd of any of Cassian's aliases. There are a variety of things that Jyn doesn't understand about it. The sideburns, the soul patch, the way he styles his hair, all of the clothes. There's a hat??? She actually likes the shirt, it's cute and she eyes it like she's going to steal it. But the whole look is just something else entirely. She says nothing off it, only arching her eyebrows before she ducks into the bathroom with her bottle of bleach and a pair of scissors -- she doesn't come out until after Cassian leaves for their party, getting dressed and basically running down the street to catch the bus to the subway, etc, etc.
The party is already as equally something else as Cassian's look and Jyn winds through the crowd toward the little DJ set up where Cassian as Raul as DJ Bespin is fussing with his records. Briefly, she ducks behind a tall person, flashing him a flirtatious smile before turning away to ruffle her brand new and very short halo of silvery blonde hair to be casually disheveled. She adjusts her very short dress before twisting around her human shield to lope up to Cassian, taking the tiny stage even as he absentmindedly tells her to get down.
Her hands go to her hips. "Excuse, I was invited."
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Swinging between eurodance and pop is the usual easy enough shtick, and even though he looks very focused on the whole disc jockey thing, he's still watching the crowds for any sign of Jyn. Or Annalie, he supposes.
From time to time some of the clubbers like to try and climb into his little stage, and it's easy enough to shoo them away because they're usually wasted. Security helps along the more rowdy and determined people, but most of the time people are more concerned with dancing. The short blonde girl is not the first short blonde girl to try and climb up, his warning slipping out carelessly. But when he hears her voice, he does a visible double take because what the fuck, that's Jyn.
And her hair is short and blonde and her dress is very short.
He muffles his surprise into a smile, a quiet flirty smirk. "Do you have the invitation?"
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"This is ridiculous, I feel like a fucking trollop." But she seems to have absolutely no problem with his own ensemble. Once her middle finger falls, she lets her hand fall against his chest, cold palm flattening against his tan skin. There are Rules to Undercover but Jyn wrote herself into a slutty club girl so she doesn't have to abide by any of them. "Are you going to play Timber for me, Raul?"
If he isn't she's going to have to start drinking because Jyn isn't a fan of this kind of club music.
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He cups her cheek, then slides his hand into her hair, still tangled despite the new length. "I need the right moment, but don't worry. I'll play it just for you." He likes that he doesn't need to put on any accents to be Raul, even if there's a different lilt to his voice. He dishevels her hair a little more. "You cut it."
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[stuck in caps, apparently.]
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1/2
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may today be the best birthday of your life
There was nothing.
Both of them were sore, both of them were tired, both of them were frustrated, and their usual easy squabbles that Jyn enjoyed for the intellectual sparring turned into actual fights. Both of them had stormed out on the other, coming back with no apologies, sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. They still wake up tangled around each other, but pull apart quicker, quieter, the easiness of mornings lost to their frustrations.
Jyn had left this morning before either of them could start a fight, going for a run and reading through their text messages from when they actually liked each other. It feels a little bit like they've lost that and it breaks her heart. Her phone chirps as she's tucking it away and her heart stutters, but instead of the text she's hoping for it's simply a calendar notification.
It's a calendar notification that sees her stepping into their room with a single cupcake with a single candle -- both of which bear receipts -- and closing the door behind her. Silently, she lights the candle with his lighter that she stole so he wouldn't fall back on bad habits and tiptoes to bed, perching next to him and offering the cupcake like it's an olive branch.
"I hate fighting with you, but I would rather fight with you than be away from you, so. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the fighting and for leaving and for going to bed angry even though conventional wisdom says that's the worst thing to do." She wants to find her father, she decided that a few months ago, but not at the expense of her relationship with Cassian. "I want to stop fighting because you're more important than whatever we're even fighting about."
After all this time the nerves still flutter around, like she still thinks Cassian is too good for her, that he'll leave and she won't be able to blame him. But she struggles forward regardless, either brave or stupid, she can't decide yet.
"I'm sorry, Cassian. Happy birthday."
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He wouldn't blame her for doing so though. He's dragged her across the globe and they have very little to show for it right now. Their fights are far more emotionally charged than Cassian feels equipt to handle, but they're so wrapped up in each other that they've become an outlet for each other's frustrations.
There's a moment of panic when he wakes up to an empty bed, all too familiar to when she'd ran away after that very first night together. He should text her, check in. He doesn't. He scowls when he realizes she's stolen his lighter, but he can't very well go for a run, because what if he runs into her? She clearly needed some space. He settles for gnawing on a cigarette because he can't bring himself to go buy another lighter either.
Honestly until she walks back into their room with a cupcake and candle flickering, Cassian had kind of forgotten it was his birthday. He'd pushed it aside, because in the face of everything else it didn't seem to matter. It's not like he's celebrated it very often anyway.
She takes him by surprise, stuck in a silence while she comes over and babbles her apologies, and his heart sinks because he's just so tired and he misses her. He misses the easy way her arms wrap around him, the easy way she fits against him, the easy way they just are.
"I am sorry too." There, that's a good start. He takes the cupcake like it's something very precious. He pats the space beside him with his free hand, an invite. "You are so important to me, Jyn. I don't want you to leave and I don't want to let you down. I don't want to fight anymore either."
He looks down at the cupcake, abruptly remembering it's still there. Right. Birthday. He blows it out, then looks back at her face. "Thank you."
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She tucks her legs up underneath her, settling comfortably next to him, fingers absently settling on his leg in the same easy way she always does. Even when they're fighting or upset, the way she curls up next to him doesn't change. He is her biggest source of comfort even when he is just existing and sitting next to her.
She rests her chin on his shoulder, contemplating the cupcake. "I realized I don't know how old you are," she mentions, casually, stretching out to snag a dollop of frosting on her finger.
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voices singing, let's be jolly; deck the halls with boughs of holly
It's only been about a month since the mission ended, since he and Jyn ended up back in the states. It's not the same place he vacated before his whirlwind cross the globe adventure, but he likes this one more. He thinks he'd like any place he stayed, so long as Jyn was there too. His apartment is also Jyn's and the novelty hasn't worn off. They're still together.
December rolls around, and Cassian finds himself digging out his tiny old Christmas tree. It's barely three feet tall, but he used to set it up on a table in the window because his old neighbors had kids who loved to point at it when they walked by. It reminded him of when he was a kid and he'd peer into the church windows at candles, listening to the holiday masses, or the little twinkling lights people would hang from their shutters as he moved from town to town. They were consistent year to year, if different in design. He hasn't had a lot of good Christmases, but maybe this year could be different.
Which is how Jyn will find him when she comes home, the tree bare and a string of lights caped over his shoulders while he winds them through the branches. There's a small box of ornaments on the couch and a single fluff of silver garland neatly wound up beside it. He hears the door open and freezes, like he's been caught with cocaine and not multicolored lightbulbs. It's just a Christmas tree! It's clearly no big deal.
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Rubbish.
She shifts the bag on her hip, setting her keys down on the table by the door, and squints at whatever Cassian is doing. Since when do they have a Christmas tree? She supposes she doesn't know a lot of the stuff Cassian has still in storage and it isn't like she had anything at all to offer their apartment aside from herself. Almost everything was already Cassian's, the rest housewarming gifts from Bodhi and the Damerons and Baze and Chirrut.
"I didn't know we had a tree," she starts casually, setting the bag down on the counter to start taking the snacks out of it, watching Cassian's progress.
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"It was in storage," is where he starts, peeking over at the snacks she starts to take out before he finally dives his hand between the branches to weave more of the lights through it. He finishes up that section and pauses again. "I used to put it up by the window."
Which is where he has it up again now, even though he's not sure if there are any kids that live nearby yet. "Do you... mind it?"
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only the best for mrs diaz
Mainly that they are currently ensconced in a cookie cutter home on the curve of a cul de sac full of other cookie cutter homes, all with perfectly manicured lawns, SUVs full of children with gluten intolerences and dubious vaccinations named Paisleigh and Kashton and Oaklynn and Jaxxon, and women who sip Chardonnay at ten in the morning and call it "Mommy Juice".
Luckily they have neither a child or an SUV, though Jyn is just as offended by their reasonably priced mid-size sedan. It's a Volvo! Cassian's motorcycle had to stay hibernating in Baze and Chirrut's garage and Jyn's still annoyed about it, even though they've been here and "moved in" for two full weeks. Instead of a child they have a small dog who likes to go running with Jyn in the morning even if the little pooch narrowly avoids getting run over by jogging moms pushing Bugaboo strollers holding snuggled up future lacrosse players. Already Jyn is plotting how to keep Hank the rescue pup when this is all over.
They're the picture of a happily married power couple newly moved into their forever home or whatever bullshit phrase it is, complete with a framed copy of their wedding invitation that announces the wedding of Augusta Hazel Candelet and Javier Tomás Miguel Diaz García. At least the pictures that dot the house are real; Jyn and Cassian on the top of Mount Washington, in front of the sunset at the end of a pier, a candid of them holding hands at the diner courtesy of Baze and another of them on the couch with Jyn's legs drapped over his lap courtesy of Chirrut. It's completed with a stupid sign inside the front hall that says "home sweet home" in lowercase cursive over a stamp of DIAZ in all caps block print.
Etsy would shit itself over their home.
Jyn, Aggie, is not as into it. What she is into is the lush garden she can play around in and the in ground pool her husband is currently cleaning after a brisk breeze blew all her pruning into the water. Jyn had cackled when Cassian sighed and pushed himself up from where the was reading at the patio table, but now that he is cleaning the pool in the bright sun with his shirt off, she doesn't feel bad at all.
That is until their stupid $500 highlights neighbor Arabella poked her head over the roses Jyn is pruning with a sly look on her face. "I see the secret to your happy marriage," she teases with a knowing look on her expression.
Jyn wants to know what the fuck she knows. "Yeah? What's that?"
"The pool boy of course!" Arabella chitters with laughter that doesn't move her botoxed face, gesturing toward Cassian at the pool. "A steamy affair with an exotic foreign pool boy is so overdone but sometimes it's just what you need, isn't it!"
Jyn blinks for a moment before standing up languidly and pushing a conspiratorial smile onto her expression, pushing her long bangs back from her face. Arabella may look like a model in her Lululemon leggings and off the shoulder top that says conserve water, drink champagne in silver sparkles, but Jyn seems to perfect the artfully disheveled top knot and put together but effortless jeans and slightly oversized sweater look that Arabella obviously covets. "That's my husband, Mr Diaz." A beat. "Javier, cariño," she calls back to Cassian. "Why don't you come meet our neighbor."
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Outside is better. Jyn has a garden, which Cassian specifically asked for to make sure there was something she'd enjoy, and the pool is very nice too. They've already made use of it several times over, and she keeps trying to convince him to have sex in the pool, but he keeps panicking because their neighbors always seem to be out and about.
Like Arabella now.
He might have rolled his eyes when Jyn laughed at the sudden mess of leaves, but cleaning it means he doesn't have to deal with her gossip. He can hear most of what the woman is saying, her attempt to be subtle is not subtle at all and speaks volumes to what she thinks about the pool boy, but he has to bite back a smirk at Jyn's very easy reply, immediately picking up on what she's doing. Suburban undercover is much different from their life on the go, but Cassian is still very used to pretending to be other people. Javier is just a new sort of persona.
Dumping the soggy leaves onto the ground, he comes over with carefully cool steps, dropping his arm around her waist with ease and kissing Jyn's cheek. The word husband does funny things to his chest, but kissing her is never unwelcome even if he's still shirtless.
"Making friends already, Aggilita?" Surprise, she has another nickname now, and if he went with the hella Spanish version, that's clearly just a coincidence. "I am Javier, I have seen you around. Isabella, was it?"
He knows it's Arabella, but if she can be a dick, he can be a dick. He's just better at making it sound like a pure accident.
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Cassian throws down a Spanish nickname and Jyn takes it a full leap forward.
"Dios, te amo, maldito idiota. Su nombre es Arabella, no Isabella. Me encanta cuando no hablan español." She knows that Arabella not Isabella can't speak Spanish because she called Jyn's husband exotic, but she'll recognize her own name and know she's being talked about. She also won't realize that Jyn's own Spanish still has a British lilt to it and she is simply never going to be as fully fluent as Cassian but their years together have at least made her moderately fluent.
She gestures toward Arabella, even as she loops her own arm around Cassian's waist, nudging his arm up to curl around her shoulders. It does not escape her that he is still shirtless so she isn't going to make him linger without a shirt, even if she really loves the warmth coming off his sun soaked chest.
"Arabella is our neighbor, darling, she was just noting how lovely it is that you actually clean out the pool."
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