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Cassian Andor is a lot of things, Jyn discovers pretty early on. When they met he was a spy with an exceptional ability to blend into the surroundings. Her heart pounded when he emerged from the shadows, in shock and fear, because she was sure her eyes had passed that space before and she did not even notice him there.
In the ship to Jedha, he was a puzzle. He regarded her with reluctant trust in his eyes, but when she woke and looked out into the window and to the barren wasteland just past the atmosphere, he spoke, “That’s Jedha, or what’s left of it.”
After Eadu, he was a dark cloud. Their bodies were heavy with exhaustion and rain seeping through their clothes, but his shoulders were heavier. Her heart the heaviest.
In Scarif, he was a friend.
After Scarif, he was one bacta immersion after another, and her heart sagged heavy in her chest again like when she lost her father. It made her feel all new and torn when she made that connection, all together, her head chanting ‘wake up, wake up, wake up’ repeatedly as she spent restless nights beside him. When he woke, dark eyes trained on the ceiling like he couldn’t believe he’s still alive, she was awake as well.
“Cassian,” she had whispered, because it was quiet and there’s nothing to say. ‘Thank you’? ‘I’m sorry’? Nothing. When he turned his head towards the sound of her voice, his eyes began to fill with tears and he cried. After Scarif, she found out that he’s only had a handful of missions just like that, and after surviving them, he always had no one. Until then.
In Hoth, he is somehow an even bigger puzzle.
The transition from Yavin IV to Hoth was tumultuous with TIE fighters flying overhead, alarms blaring so loud it took Jyn a few seconds to recognize what was going on. She spotted Cassian in the middle of it all, yelling commands at people, eyes alight with fire and adrenaline. It made her breath catch, and she’s aware it’s not the right time for this, but his eyes found her in the middle of the chaos, started walking towards her, and suddenly, she’s in his arms. She squeezed back, still a bit shaken.
“Go with Shara and Kes, they will take care of you, I already arranged transport for you and Bodhi.”
“What about you?” she asked.
His eyes were heated but steady, one might even say calm. But she knows the tremble in his grip around her arms. “I’ll be right behind. Don’t worry about me.”
“I always worry about you,” she had said, because it might just be the last time they spoke.
“Okay,” he said around a chuckle she surprised out of him. “Take care of Shara, she’s pregnant and antsy. I’ll… see you soon.”
And with that, he was gone.
*
Hoth is not a good place for children, Jyn decides pretty early on. It’s not even good for the full grown humanoids, but children. They’re going to get sick and die. But Shara Bey gives birth to a healthy baby boy named Poe with dark curly hair and chubby arms thrusting into the cold air, and Jyn does not cry, but Cassian almost does.
Kes claps him on the shoulder and tells him he wants Cassian to be Poe’s godfather, and war-hardened master spy Cassian Andor looks so dumbfounded Jyn has to pinch the inside of his arm.
“Of course,” he answers, Kes giving him a knowing look before returning to his wife and child.
“You look like you wanna throw up,” she tells him as they stand at a distance, letting the little family have their moment.
She hears him scoff. “I’m not. I don’t.”
*
Jyn just came from the most punishing perimeter check she has ever been on, further solidifying the theory that Draven hates her guts the most, when she stumbles into Cassian in their quarters, without his shirt on, a baby on his chest. They are both snoring peacefully, oblivious to the goings on. The first feeling she gets is envy – of the little bubble around them, as if there’s nothing to worry about. Cassian doesn’t get like this ever, and Jyn feels a bit odd about it, and then… something else.
Shara and Kes are often on call nowadays after the destruction of the Death Star, transporting or recruiting or whatever it is that they do. Little Poe, some five months old now, would be left to the care of his godparents, but more often would fall into Cassian’s care. Cassian on the other hand is still in demand (they both are, truthfully) but he’d just come from a back-to-back off-world mission, and when he stumbled out of the ship a couple of days ago, she thinks he looked ready to sleep for two days. Still, he relaxed when he found her standing some feet clear of the landing pad, walking towards her and embracing her with a might she didn’t know he still had.
That’s one thing that’s a puzzle to her, too. His embrace, his touch. It always feels like something she doesn’t deserve, and yet he’s willing to give it. They share a room in the west wing of Echo base, at first keeping separate cots on opposite sides of the small quarters. And then sometime between then and now, he gave her a small smile and pushed their cots together, a weak “it’s too cold to be away from each other” from his lips. She did not protest.
When she wakes with his warm breath on her neck, an arm slung around her stomach, his legs curled behind hers, and his dick hard against her ass – it feels like an eternity in a minute. He would stir and bring his hips away from hers as if she wouldn’t notice, stretch, and then pull at her shoulder so that she lies on her back. She turns her head to him and he gives her a sleepy smile. Her stomach would swoop with a feeling, and he’d whisper a quiet “good morning”, breathy, just the way she hated it.
“You breath stinks,” she would say, and he would grin and he’s beautiful. He would breathe again and she would smack his chest.
That’s how their mornings together would start, and it’s one of the things she thought she couldn’t afford – before Cassian Andor, there were many things she thought she could never get. And yet, there they are.
But he’s never kissed her, and her him, and right now feels like a bigger pull than the ones before.
An arm is carefully slung over Poe’s back, protective. The room is warm (Captain perks, she would tease him), and the baby’s mouth is open, drooling on his skin.
Jyn feels her heart grow lighter at the sight. Peace looks good on Cassian.
She strips her jacket and her boots and her pants, leaving her in her undergarments – as she always does. This is how they sleep together, unclothed, comfortable. She lies next to him, running her fingers gingerly through Poe’s hair, smiling a little at his tiny whimper. She sleeps.
*
When she wakes, it’s to small fingers dancing along her face, sticking into her nose. She grabs the little hand, opens her eyes, sees the baby sitting between them. Cassian is awake, holding the same arm she’s holding in her hand. She shakes her head in disbelief.
“Funny,” she notes. The baby gurgles at her, wiggling out of Cassian’s grip and climbing over to her, settling on her stomach. Cassian gives them a quiet grin.
“Hey, Poe,” she says, tickling the baby’s stomach. “Uncle Cassian training you to be a sneaky boy, huh?”
Jyn remembers the first time she’s held a child – it was in the middle of a battle in one of Coruscant’s moons, Saw’s rebel army behind her. It was a tiny thing, covered in soot and dust, left in an abandoned house. Mal, one of the rebels she’s with, took it from her, promised to give it to someone who can take it to a safe place.
Children are born into the war, lose families, grow up orphans, and become soldiers themselves. She thinks of a little boy with dark eyes, bones defined, skinny – made to stay on the streets to eavesdrop on Imperial officers, and pick pockets, and crawl into tight spaces. The Alliance secret. She looks at the one in the bed with her, looking at her like there’s nothing better to look at in the whole galaxy.
She thinks about his vow to Poe, a whisper on the infant’s forehead.
‘No more orphans, no more crying.’
Jyn sits up, cradles Poe in her arm and curls a hand behind Cassian’s neck, pulling him forward until their lips meet.
He freezes, caught off guard, and her heart seizes in her chest as she awaits him. An eternity in a minute, she thinks. And then he moves, a quiet sigh passing between their lips, his mouth opening under hers. Their tongues meet and a quiet moan slips, unbidden.
Her head chants Cassian, Cassian, Cassian, flooded with everything of him, his skin, his hands, his eyes, his words welcome home, passing as the breath they share. The hand she has on his neck slides up, threading through his hair, pulling. He groans, and Jyn thinks it’s a sound she will chase to hear over and over again.
An extra hand, a small soft one, touches their cheeks, and Cassian breaks away, laughing. He doesn’t go too far, resting his forehead against hers, tongue darting out to catch her taste on his lips, and she wants to kiss him again, but there’s a child envious of the attention he’s not getting.
Finally, he pulls away and hooks his hands under Poe’s arms, lifting until he’s up high. “Come here, you,” he says, swinging him around. “You’re quite the little charmer, aren’t you?”
He shoots Jyn another smile.
She lies back down, watches him play with the child until he tires and goes back to his nap. And then he lays the child between them, careful.
He reaches out a hand to tangle in her hair, gentle and reverent – a softness peculiar to the heart of the Rebellion. But she nuzzles his wrist and closes her eyes.
“We have to talk about this, Jyn,” he says, quiet. Echo base hums around them, a steady bustling of energy, feet thudding through the snow covered floors, voices muffled through the walls.
“Tomorrow,” she promises. “We can take tonight off, Cassian.”
*
Tomorrow, she promises him her life, not only her death. He breathes through his nose, disbelieving. And then he kisses her in the quiet of their room, deep and wanting and yearning. There are more promises in that kiss, and the kisses that happen after. And the hugs, and the smiles.
She thinks there’s a future now.
Or at least something to look forward to.