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The competition started weeks ago, after Jyn stole a ship with barely any fuel in it. Leaving Bodhi to the controls and Kay to rewire the communication system, she fled to the back where Cassian was doing his best to rip off Baze’s armor, the ever present haunted look apparent in Cassian’s brown gaze and in the back of her mind, she knew that despite the mission being successful, he was angry that he had not foreseen the turn of events that had gotten Baze shot and her secretly sporting a sprained ankle.
“Careful with that,” Baze grunted. “It’s an antique.”
“Dear Force, he’s dying.” Chirrut chimed in after a beat. The small smile he had on his face was in direct conflict with how his hands were clenched in Baze’s shirt. But the words set Jyn at ease as the blind man would never try to levy the situation unless there was an ounce of hope, and she flew to the back to grab the medkit.
“Quit being dramatic,” Baze replied, already filling his speaking quota for the afternoon and the swift intake of breath he took was followed by a coughing fit.
“Keep him awake,” Cassian cried out as he ripped open Baze’s shirt, revealing a distressing burn that ran from his chest to his hip. Letting out a curse in his native tongue, he dug into the medkit that Jyn had brought, and began to work, his hands precise and exacting. If there wasn’t a war going on, Jyn had a feeling that he would have made a wonderful doctor.
Jyn squatted next to Cassian, though not great at medicine, she knew what the supplies were and could hand him what he needed.
“What’s that?” she asked, spotting the hint of an old burn mark that stretched from Baze’s neck to his upper shoulder.
Baze glanced at it and smirked. “A victory.”
“A victory?”
“Someone said I couldn't punch a Jedi in the dick without dying and that someone was wrong.”
Cassian laughed despite the situation, which made Jyn nearly jump. She had never heard him laugh before. There were occasional smiles, but he never laughed and to top it off, Baze was the person to get him to laugh. She made a face at the older man.
“I didn't say you couldn't. I said you shouldn't.” Chirrut remarked, his voice tinged with mirth.
As Cassian finished bandaging the wound, he sat back on his haunches and made sure it was secure before he turned his gaze to Jyn. “Now show me your right ankle.”
“Captain,” she replied demurely, trying to appear carefully neutral but she caught the way Baze rolled his eyes and knew she was failing. She wasn’t the demure type, anyway. “This is neither the time nor place--”
“You’ve been favoring your left leg--there’s something wrong with your right,” he said matter of factly, pushing Jyn over so that she landed with a thud on her butt. How he noticed something so minute while his focus was solely on Baze since they were ambushed, she would never know.
“At least buy a girl a drink first, before asking to flash some ankle,” she muttered while removing her boots and lifting up her pant leg.
His hands were gentle as he carefully cascaded them over the skin of her leg, causing weird sensations to shoot up her thigh and make her feel wild. It wasn’t the first time he had inadvertently caused her to feel that way, and she tried to make sure that she did not react, though when she looked up, she could see Chirrut’s eyebrow quirk upward.
When he heard her hiss of pain after he moved her foot a certain way, Cassian bit his lip in thought then poked her ankle. She yelped through gritted teeth and punched him in the shoulder.
“Little sister,” Baze uttered, “what’s that?” Her eyes followed his and saw the jagged white blemish on her shin.
Smiling fondly, she remembered some guy in Saw’s group who had felt the need to belittle her. “Pantsed a partisan.”
“Pantsed?” Baze asked, not too familiar with the term.
“Pulled someone’s pants down, revealing their underwear usually in front of a group of people,” Chirrut replied. “You know, what I used to do to you?”
“Yes, and that’s how you got that scar on your ear” Baze said while pointing to a splotch on Chirrut’s ear.
“I don’t see why...I was flirting with you.”
“Flirting?” Baze thundered, incredulously.
“I wanted to see what you were packing?”
Cassian’s gruff snort came out haltingly, as if he were trying to suppress it. “You’re blind,” he pointed out as he rubbed some ointment onto her ankle, immediately making it feel much better. She closed her eyes in pleasure.
“Captain,” Chirrut said slowly, the ever present smirk on his face growing exponentially, “Baze doesn’t need help.”
“He’s lying. I need all the help.”
Before Cassian could reply, however, Kay had commed him. “Captain, I got through to the General and he wants an update.”
There is a moment of hesitation, she can feel it in his fingers as he paused his ministrations. He then set Jyn’s ankle onto Baze’s thigh in lieu of a pillow. When he left the three, she finally let out a curse. “I believe Baze gets this round,” she murmured. “But don’t smiles count as a point? I got one smile.”
“Snorts are one point, laughs are two,” Chirrut clarified. “Baze wins today’s round.”
They were preparing to leave Jakku when they heard a noise over the comm. Genuine worry marred Cassian’s features as he hailed Bodhi who was safely on the ship, keeping an eye out on the perimeter.
“What is it,” he hissed, keeping his features carefully blank so as not to draw any attention. “Do you see something?”
There was a little feedback before the line cleared and he heard Bodhi. “I said get me some Mezcal.”
Cassian snorted and behind him, Jyn shook her head. That did not count, did it? If so, that was hardly fair. So far, everyone had been able to get him to at least snort once--even Kay--except for her. “How do you know about Mezcal?” Cassian asked, genuinely intrigued.
“Jyn gave me a taste from your stash,” Bodhi replied and then the line went completely silent as he probably realized he had let something slip.
“Traitor,” Jyn murmured while Cassian turned a dark glare on her.
Suddenly, he was a little too close, his lips right by her ear. “So it was you,” he hissed.
“You’re looking at me as if it were my fault that your quarters are so easily accessible?” Using his body he purposely walked her toward an alleyway until her back was pressed against a wall. He leaned his forearm right above her head, effectively trapping her and his head descended until it was mere inches away from her face.
“At my six,” he murmured and her eyes briefly glanced away from his mouth to right behind him, catching sight of four stormtroopers bothering the town folk.
She reverted her gaze back to him and blinked four times, letting him know. “There’s a level one lock encryption on my door,” he replied, his other hand was beneath her chin, tilting it up while his thumb brushed her lips, continuing the charade.
“That means nothing to me,” she replied, her heart beating faster and her lips trembled despite knowing that he was only doing this as a cover.
“There’s a small blaster in the front of my pants.”
“I wouldn’t call that small, Captain,” she said cheekily which earned her a smile--but not a laugh or a snort. She still had zero points.
When the stormtroopers filed into the alleyway, Cassian waited a beat, testing to see if they would leave them alone. He was kissing her temple, running his lips to the back of her ear and she had to keep telling herself that this was not real and nothing more would happen even though she was getting increasingly hot in a place that hadn’t been hot in eons.
“Identification,” one of the troopers said, and she let out a frustrated sigh, her green eyes flashing brightly as Cassian whipped away and she fired the blaster, hitting all four.
Cassian was already yelling orders into his comm as they ran, darting through the stalls and headed toward the ship. Thief that she was, Jyn reached out and grabbed two bottles of Mezcal before they left.
Bodhi had won that day.
They sat in the common area, each with a shot of Mezcal perched in front of them, staring darkly at one another. They were all playing a terrible drinking game, initiated by Jyn, who stated that they all had to answer the same question and those who decide not to answer had to take a shot. By question six, everyone was drunk.
“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Bodhi declared as he took another shot.
“If we all didn’t have something to hide, we would be a lot more sober,” Chirrut responded, leaning his head against Baze’s shoulder.
“I’ve got a question,” Baze erupted, shaking off Chirrut. A glint appeared in Baze’s eye as he stared between Jyn and Cassian. “Current crush?” his gruff voice echoed in the room.
“You, my sweet,” Chirrut purred.
“You, too,” Baze replied then his eyes went straight to Cassian who had already lifted the glass to his lips and threw it back.
Jyn’s cheeks colored and her warning glare was so sinister that Baze had to look away out of pure fear. She also drank down hers and winced at the burn.
Bodhi squirmed and drank his drink. That immediately caught Cassian’s attention and he raised an eyebrow at Jyn, mentally asking who it could be, but she could only shake her head. She turned to Baze and Chirrut, Baze looked perplexed but Chirrut appeared pensive.
“I’ve got one,” Bodhi continued, unknowing of the silent conversation they all had about him. “Strange scar locations that we can see.”
Over the intercom, they hear Kay ask, “What about the scar near your ass crack, Captain? Did you want to show them that?” And suddenly everyone was intrigued, wondering how he got it in the first place, especially Jyn who practically stumbled over herself to reach for his belt buckle and he had to bat her hands away.
“I mean, since I can’t see, I’d have to touch it,” Chirrut said and Cassian chuckled as he brought refilled glass to his lips.
Chirrut won that round.
Jyn glares up at Cassian from beneath her fray of bangs, obscenities pouring out of her mouth as he continues stitching her skin back together. “Just take the shot,” he says indicating the alcoholic drink that sits by her hand. “That’s why it’s there.”
“And get all handsy again?” she cringes, ghostly images invading her mind’s eye. “Per Bodhi, I tried to suck your fucking dick the last time I drank that stuff.”
His hands pause momentarily and she catches him blush despite their predicament. “You were very...persistent,” he says diplomatically, continuing his ministrations and makes no mention of the beverage again.
When it is finally over, she feels her body sag and rests her head against the table, shutting her eyes. An errant dagger had caused him to drag her back to the ship while Baze, Chirrut and Kay continued the mission.
“Thanks,” and she pulls what’s left of her shirt, stained red with her own blood, over her body.
“Don’t mention it,” and he fishes in his bag, pulling out one of his spare tops. Tossing it to her, he turns his back on her, grabbing the bottle of Mezcal and asks deceptively casual, “so who’s winning today?”
Jyn freezes in the midst of dressing, her head just through the neck hole, and she stares at his relaxed stance just in front of her. He is taking a swig, acting careless, but that is the thing with Cassian--it is usually an act.
“What do you mean,” she responds slowly, trying to by herself some time. Continuing to pull the rest of the shirt down, smelling something that is uniquely Cassian surrounding her and knowing in that moment that his shirt will become her shirt now, she tries to figure out a way to talk herself out of the situation. Adjusting her hair out of her face, she steps forward until she stands right beside him. She manages the perfect combination of curious and irate.
“Come on, Jyn." He gives her a look and then says, "Are you losing?”
“I am not--” she stops herself, knowing that she bit the bait yet again. “How did you know?” she asks, changing her tactic.
Cassian sighs. “You all were very obvious about it. Suddenly everyone is turning into a comedian and pausing after a joke? Do you know how weird that is? Also,” he takes another swig, “I found Kay’s tally marks.”
She frowns. “Why don’t you laugh at anything I say? I’m funny.”
He arches an eyebrow at that and heads to the door. “That’s because I feel other emotions when I’m around you.”
The door shuts behind him and Jyn shakes her head, slightly intrigued. Then another thought invades and she runs out the door, chasing after him. “W--wait, what emotions?”