My one true vice is procrastination
Title: Take Me Home
Pairing: Kalifa/Jyabura/Kaku
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 1,286
Summary: Some things never change, except for when everything does.
A/N: This is for
scribe_protra, because I said I was going to write it like a year ago and I never did. But I have now! I do keep my promises. Sometimes I'm just incredibly late.
It is true that she gave Jyabura what was left of her virginity on a rainy day near the end of one of those missions that drags up bitter memories and latent stress from the most hardened of hearts, and it’s true that she took Kaku’s a year after that in an unoccupied train car on the way to one of those missions where he might have to fulfill an oft-unmentioned governmental duty with someone he didn’t know yet and would later have to kill, because he wasn’t exactly prepared and it went against policy to admit to being nervous. It’s true, but none of them ever talks about it, because it’s just work, only it isn’t really, and there are certain things best left unsaid.
She wants to believe that none of it meant anything, that sometimes coworkers help each other out and that neither of them knows about the other, but she lies to everyone else and she won’t lie to herself. She knows that Kaku is impeccably polite and that adrenaline fuels him like lifeblood, and that Jyabura tries far too hard and really isn’t as stupid as most people take him for, and she admits that if she were allowed and able she might be the smallest bit infatuated with both of them.
It’s a little difficult not to be the smallest bit infatuated with the first person you trusted enough to hold onto, breathing into his shoulder as his hands tried to be gentle on your hips, and the first person who trusted you enough to let you be that person for him. She’s never been a sentimental person, but she knows that everyone needs a little trust now and then, given and taken, and if she’s being honest she still trusts them, and if she’s being especially honest they might be the only ones.
But she’s not the only one; she knows that the strange way the two of them believe in each other is more than anything she’s ever had with either of them, and part of her almost wants to be jealous, if only to know what it’s like. She can’t be, because she doesn’t have the capacity for it or because she knows better, even though she’s seen the way they sometimes look behind each other’s backs, the way they sometimes act without meaning to.
She saw their first time, too. It was an accident, and it was almost three weeks before they went away for so much longer, and she was completely unsurprised to find that they had forgotten to close the door and only a little surprised to discover why, and they never noticed her, and she should have gone away, but she didn’t.
And when they did go away to that godforsaken city that Kaku seemed to love so much, they were only there two months or maybe three before he walked her back to her apartment after a few hours at Blueno’s Bar because cover dictated that secretaries weren’t safe from muggers in the streets at night, and when she invited him in neither of them really thought anything of it, and neither of them really thought anything of it a month later when it happened again. Of course that was a lie, but lying by omission never counts.
Eventually she tells him that she knows about him and Jyabura, and he retaliates that he’s known about her and Jyabura for a long time, and wonders if it’s supposed to mean anything, and she tells him no, none of it does. But she asks if Kaku misses him before she can stop herself and he says yes before he can, and everything’s a little awkward for awhile, but it’s hard to be defensive about the situation when one is so far away and the other is right there.
So it goes, and when they get back everything falls into place so quickly it’s almost as if they were never gone, because it’s not the first time that everyone has been tense and weary and fixated on competition. She would wish that it could have been different, but she never really wishes for anything, except when she wishes that none of this ever would have happened and that she still had a home and a job and a flawless win record.
Blueno is the one who saves them all, but Jyabura is the one who finds her the blanket, and in the end when they all stand and watch their leader’s shallow breathing and wonder what to do, Kaku is the one who gives the order, because he’s second and because someone has to. So then they walk all the way to salvation, and they take turns sharing the burden of Lucci’s unconscious body, but Jyabura carries Kaku on his back the entire way, sometimes arguing just to fill the silence and sometimes not saying much of anything at all.
Before they left Jyabura took his shirt off and handed it to her, wordless, but it meant everything he needed to say, everything about how he hasn’t forgotten her and he hasn’t forgotten him either, and about how he knew as soon as he saw her sit down on the sofa next to Kaku and share a look with him that didn’t need any words either. She took it and wore it and kept it, still has it even though she should have given it back, but of course he never asked; he found a gaudy, awful tourist shirt instead, and he wears it and doesn’t say a thing even though he probably knows she’s keeping it in her suitcase.
She should be ashamed to admit that finding Kaku still able to walk is more of a weight off her shoulders than the day Lucci wakes up, and she’s forced to acknowledge a chip in her armor when she discovers herself momentarily unwilling to leave him and Jyabura behind when all she’s doing is going shopping, of all things. But it doesn’t feel so terrible, and she’s also forced to acknowledge that, all things considered, it doesn’t matter anymore.
The two of them spend a lot of time with each other on the journey home (and the fact that they have a home again makes everything a little lighter), and she knows that Kaku has spent at least two nights in Jyabura’s room, but she still has Jyabura’s shirt and Kaku’s virginity and she’s going to be all right with that for the time being.
Everything is different now, different than it was before and different than it was in the beginning, but it isn’t bad, not when they’re sitting up so far above the little ones getting themselves into a new era and watching the future unfold, and Kaku looks at her and tries to say something before the words die on his tongue, and Jyabura looks at him like he’s an idiot and reaches his arm around Kalifa’s shoulder to smack him in the head, but he leaves his arm where it is and Kalifa has to remove it and twist his hand, but she doesn’t let go after she does. And Kaku mutters something unintelligible and leans a little against her, and everything is still different, but still not bad, and maybe better.
In the end she finds Jyabura out on a balcony and takes him with her to Kaku’s room, and none of them says very much, but she still trusts them both enough to hold onto, and she feels like maybe this is how it should have been all along.
And in the end, she always had a home, and only now is it all in the right place.
Pairing: Kalifa/Jyabura/Kaku
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 1,286
Summary: Some things never change, except for when everything does.
A/N: This is for
scribe_protra, because I said I was going to write it like a year ago and I never did. But I have now! I do keep my promises. Sometimes I'm just incredibly late.It is true that she gave Jyabura what was left of her virginity on a rainy day near the end of one of those missions that drags up bitter memories and latent stress from the most hardened of hearts, and it’s true that she took Kaku’s a year after that in an unoccupied train car on the way to one of those missions where he might have to fulfill an oft-unmentioned governmental duty with someone he didn’t know yet and would later have to kill, because he wasn’t exactly prepared and it went against policy to admit to being nervous. It’s true, but none of them ever talks about it, because it’s just work, only it isn’t really, and there are certain things best left unsaid.
She wants to believe that none of it meant anything, that sometimes coworkers help each other out and that neither of them knows about the other, but she lies to everyone else and she won’t lie to herself. She knows that Kaku is impeccably polite and that adrenaline fuels him like lifeblood, and that Jyabura tries far too hard and really isn’t as stupid as most people take him for, and she admits that if she were allowed and able she might be the smallest bit infatuated with both of them.
It’s a little difficult not to be the smallest bit infatuated with the first person you trusted enough to hold onto, breathing into his shoulder as his hands tried to be gentle on your hips, and the first person who trusted you enough to let you be that person for him. She’s never been a sentimental person, but she knows that everyone needs a little trust now and then, given and taken, and if she’s being honest she still trusts them, and if she’s being especially honest they might be the only ones.
But she’s not the only one; she knows that the strange way the two of them believe in each other is more than anything she’s ever had with either of them, and part of her almost wants to be jealous, if only to know what it’s like. She can’t be, because she doesn’t have the capacity for it or because she knows better, even though she’s seen the way they sometimes look behind each other’s backs, the way they sometimes act without meaning to.
She saw their first time, too. It was an accident, and it was almost three weeks before they went away for so much longer, and she was completely unsurprised to find that they had forgotten to close the door and only a little surprised to discover why, and they never noticed her, and she should have gone away, but she didn’t.
And when they did go away to that godforsaken city that Kaku seemed to love so much, they were only there two months or maybe three before he walked her back to her apartment after a few hours at Blueno’s Bar because cover dictated that secretaries weren’t safe from muggers in the streets at night, and when she invited him in neither of them really thought anything of it, and neither of them really thought anything of it a month later when it happened again. Of course that was a lie, but lying by omission never counts.
Eventually she tells him that she knows about him and Jyabura, and he retaliates that he’s known about her and Jyabura for a long time, and wonders if it’s supposed to mean anything, and she tells him no, none of it does. But she asks if Kaku misses him before she can stop herself and he says yes before he can, and everything’s a little awkward for awhile, but it’s hard to be defensive about the situation when one is so far away and the other is right there.
So it goes, and when they get back everything falls into place so quickly it’s almost as if they were never gone, because it’s not the first time that everyone has been tense and weary and fixated on competition. She would wish that it could have been different, but she never really wishes for anything, except when she wishes that none of this ever would have happened and that she still had a home and a job and a flawless win record.
Blueno is the one who saves them all, but Jyabura is the one who finds her the blanket, and in the end when they all stand and watch their leader’s shallow breathing and wonder what to do, Kaku is the one who gives the order, because he’s second and because someone has to. So then they walk all the way to salvation, and they take turns sharing the burden of Lucci’s unconscious body, but Jyabura carries Kaku on his back the entire way, sometimes arguing just to fill the silence and sometimes not saying much of anything at all.
Before they left Jyabura took his shirt off and handed it to her, wordless, but it meant everything he needed to say, everything about how he hasn’t forgotten her and he hasn’t forgotten him either, and about how he knew as soon as he saw her sit down on the sofa next to Kaku and share a look with him that didn’t need any words either. She took it and wore it and kept it, still has it even though she should have given it back, but of course he never asked; he found a gaudy, awful tourist shirt instead, and he wears it and doesn’t say a thing even though he probably knows she’s keeping it in her suitcase.
She should be ashamed to admit that finding Kaku still able to walk is more of a weight off her shoulders than the day Lucci wakes up, and she’s forced to acknowledge a chip in her armor when she discovers herself momentarily unwilling to leave him and Jyabura behind when all she’s doing is going shopping, of all things. But it doesn’t feel so terrible, and she’s also forced to acknowledge that, all things considered, it doesn’t matter anymore.
The two of them spend a lot of time with each other on the journey home (and the fact that they have a home again makes everything a little lighter), and she knows that Kaku has spent at least two nights in Jyabura’s room, but she still has Jyabura’s shirt and Kaku’s virginity and she’s going to be all right with that for the time being.
Everything is different now, different than it was before and different than it was in the beginning, but it isn’t bad, not when they’re sitting up so far above the little ones getting themselves into a new era and watching the future unfold, and Kaku looks at her and tries to say something before the words die on his tongue, and Jyabura looks at him like he’s an idiot and reaches his arm around Kalifa’s shoulder to smack him in the head, but he leaves his arm where it is and Kalifa has to remove it and twist his hand, but she doesn’t let go after she does. And Kaku mutters something unintelligible and leans a little against her, and everything is still different, but still not bad, and maybe better.
In the end she finds Jyabura out on a balcony and takes him with her to Kaku’s room, and none of them says very much, but she still trusts them both enough to hold onto, and she feels like maybe this is how it should have been all along.
And in the end, she always had a home, and only now is it all in the right place.