legionworld | [Closed to Tucker] There's never enough time

Who| Connie and Tucker
What| Campfire heart to heart, maybe?
Where| Connie's Hab
When| After "After These Messages"
Warnings/Notes|

There's nothing like a few brushes with death to give you a little perspective. It feels like barely any time has passed but there have been quite a few changes. North had changed, like she'd seen happen with Grif months ago. Carolina came and went, leaving after her a familiar hole where a friend Connie could put her trust in again used to be. After the threateningly fun bullshit of her last mission, after everything else? She's tired.

With a bottle at her side, Connie builds up a fire in the pit outside her cottage, pulling a blanket around her shoulders as she settles in to watch the flames rise. Her hand lowers to the knife in her pocket, itching for something familiar and comforting to do but after a moment it settles on her omnicom. Flipping open the screen she stares at her contact list, feeling the weight of the missing names in there as she sends a message out.

"Hey, are you busy?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Sounds like excuses to me," Connie snorts back as she watches the newly placed marshmallow be almost immediately set aflame. By now her own marshmallow has cooled to the point where she'll have to toast it again but- oh he wants to play this game, does he?

She raises a brow at him, quickly glancing from him to the burning tip before giving in and leaning forward on her armrest to blow the fire out in a quick breath. And well, since she's here and he's sitting back looking so smug she leans in to steal a small bite of the melting marshmallow from his stick. She's earned it if he's gonna make her do all the work.

Rude. You don't steal a man's marshmallow like that, especially not when it's still crunchy on the outside and filled with gooey, melty innards with that perfect contrast! His eyes widened, mock-offended, before he leaned forward.

Fuck, he wanted to kiss her. He wondered how much he would get his face beat in. Freelancers were still scary, especially the women.

"You know I'm totally going to go after that, right?"

There. A warning. Less chance for death.

Technically they're her marshmallows but oh, this is fun. Connie can't help a little smirk as she cocks her head in reply, eyebrows lifting curiously as if to say, 'I'm waiting'.

She had been curious to see if he'd try for something...hoping for it, really. Question is, is he actually gonna go for it, or is he all bark and no bite?

No way! They stopped being hers when she offered them up; no take-back-sies. But the rule of possession-is-nine-tenths-of-the-law went out of his head because fuck, it was happening wasn't it? Finally? After dancing around it, after so many thoughts of What Ifs and the usual flirting?

Funny how life had a way of just taking something shitty like Your Boyfriend Tried To Kill Me For Weeks In A Desert and turned it into this.

His free hand reached up, sliding behind her neck, trying not to get distracted by the ticklish feel of her hair against his knuckles. He tugged her in closer, meeting across the chairs as his lips sought out hers, the tasty sweetness of the marshmallow still lingering there. Behind him, he could hear the crackle of the fire, but he ignored it because--

He was kissing a Freelancer.

He was kissing Connie.

Fuck. Yes.

There's a kind of quiet rush that comes with letting go of the games and unspoken rules they've been playing. It's all too easy for Connie to play it safe, to stay reserved and hide but...damn it, how many opportunities has she missed out on because of it? She took a chance when she first opened up to Tucker whey they first met and he's given her no reason to regret it. No, the only regret would be if she let him slip by.

She moves easily as Tucker draws her in, the feel of his fingers brushing across her hair leaving her skin tingling under his touch when he meets her halfway. Fond as she is of the teasing and flirting it felt good to give in, to forget everything except for the heat of the fire beside them and the warmth of his kiss.

Damn right it was. And they had mountains of bullshit to forget, things Tucker was tired of tugging him down: Church and Carolina and everyone he was missing back home, the impending doom of losing all of the new friends he made here when he inevitably returned home. Because as great as this all was, he couldn't stay; he had a son who needed him, who he needed just as much, had his own missions, his own teams, family.

But in this moment, it was so easy to let those strings slide through his fingers and let it go. Her mouth was warm and inviting and it had been awhile since he kissed anyone, since Sister, probably, and this felt...amazing. Good. All the things he missed with all the new explorations of someone he didn't know. His mouth opened against hers, his tongue seeking hers out, trying to slip inside and dance, while the scent of the campfire curled around them.

S'mores were, unsurprisingly, forgotten.

Her lips part to the press of his tongue, the sugar from the marshmallow making him taste sweeter as she relaxes under his hand.

They can take their time, learn each other in a way Connie hasn't been able to since before she joined the Project; and yet there's the underlying threat that it could all be taken away all too soon. She doesn't know why Carolina- or South or Maine left when they did, what triggered it or if it was a passing whim of the Time Trapper but without warning, Tucker might disappear too. Or Connie will, returned to the point she was taken from...which would be her death all over again. She doesn't want to think about where her friends would end up, knowing what she knows now.

Connie's free hand reaches up to curl around Tucker's shoulder as the other abandons the stick she'd been using to fist in his shirt, pulling him in closer to her.

[Closed to Tucker] There's never enough time

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