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Chapter Text

Jyn’s not sure what it is that she and Cassian are doing.

If you’d asked her just few hours ago, she would have said she doesn’t even like him.

Not that he doesn’t have his good qualities – he’s tough and capable and daring, and she can’t help respecting that – but she can’t stand how strict he is about following the rules. He’s a… OK she’s not sure exactly what he and Kay do, but it’s definitely not 100% legal – or even 50% - so who is he to decide what the rules are?

She can’t stand the way he looks at her, the hint of disapproval in his dark eyes that he can never quite cover up. Because apparently there’s a right way and a wrong way to break the law, and she’s the wrong way.

But she likes the way he’s looking at her now. Maybe it’s the high of victory, maybe it’s the tequila, but whatever it is, suddenly it feels completely normal that they’re sitting alone together, laughing at their friends’ antics on the dance floor. Suddenly it feels normal that his eyes are soft when they meet hers, warm with laughter and, if she’s not wrong, more than a hint of desire.

And she doesn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, she’s pretty sure she’s got the same look on her face when she looks at him.

She’d like to say that what happens next, happens because she was drunk. But the truth is that she more or less stopped drinking over two hours earlier. So when she finds herself up against a wall in the alley behind the bar, kissing Cassian Andor like her life depends on it, she can’t blame the tequila.

His lips are surprisingly soft on hers. Her last coherent thought is that she would never have thought that quiet, uptight Cassian could kiss like this.

*

It’s not that Jyn doesn’t want to start dating again. She’s all about dating again. You have to get back on the horse, and all that (although honestly, as a city kid she’s not sure why you’d want to get on a horse in the first place).

Yes, what happened with Cassian hurt, but – life goes on. And what better way to move on than to find someone new? That should cheer her up.

(That should stop her stupid, traitorous eyes from wandering to him whenever she sees him in MMA class.)

But the problem is, it’s not so easy to find someone to date. Or more – it’s not so easy to find someone who agrees to date her.

She doesn’t get it. She’s not vain or anything, but – she’s an attractive woman, right? Her friends all say she is. OK, Chirrut she knows is talking out his ass, but she’s pretty sure Bodhi is telling her the truth, and she knows Leia is. Leia doesn’t lie. When she looks bad, Leia tells her. Which she appreciates (although telling her she looked like “something the cat barfed up” the last time she was hungover was going a bit far, if you ask her).

And OK, she’ll admit that not every man can handle her… how had Bodhi put it? Her strong personality. But it’s not just that, because the last two guys she hit on were not the kind to be easily scared off.

Alex, for example. She’s known him for a year, now, he joined MMA just after she and Cassian did. He’s got a kind of unthinking courage that comes through in the way he fights, all hard, fast blows, nothing held back. And he survived dating Mara, for fuck’s sake. Clearly he can handle anything.

And yet, when Jyn stayed back after class had ended and asked if he’d like to meet up for coffee sometime, he’d frozen like a deer in the headlights, his eyes flashing between her (and she’d noticed he was careful to keep his gaze above her neck) and Cassian, who stood in the far corner toweling off and studiously ignoring them.

“I… you… I like, you Jyn, but…” he’d managed, before breaking out into spasms of coughing and excusing himself to get water. That was a month ago, and she hasn’t seen him since.

Or that guy at the bar. What was his name? Jonga? Jenga? Something like that. Anyway, he’d hardly seemed the type to back down from a challenge. And he’d clearly been interested. “Let’s continue this conversation at my place. Naked,” was hard to misinterpret.

But when she’d come back after a brief – seriously, she’d only been gone for two minutes! – trip to the bathroom, he was gone. Bodhi had just shrugged, and Chirrut had given her an innocent look (a little too innocent, if you asked her). And she’d gone home alone, yet again.

So yeah. Jyn is more than ready to meet someone new. She’s just not sure how to do that.

Which is why when Kaela from work wants to set her up on a blind date, she says yes.

“He’s, like, perfect for you,” Kaela assures her. “He’s the strong and silent type. But not brooding. He’s smart. And,” she giggles, “seriously hot. I really think you’ll like him.”

Jyn hates blind dates. But it’s not like her way has been working. Maybe this is just what she needs. And really, what’s the worst that can happen?

*

“You’re shitting me.”

Cassian looks up, and does a double take. “Hi, Jyn,” he says cautiously. And then he looks at her, really looks at her, and she can see the moment it clicks. Her turquoise top, jeans, and black bag - just what his date was supposed to be wearing, as she well knows.

And she was told to look for a man in a red shirt, carrying a book with a green cover. She hadn’t seen Cassian in red before. She hates to admit it, but it works on him.

(And is the title of that book really, “20 ways to kill a grown man with nothing but office supplies”? She cranes her neck for a closer look, but he stuffs the book into his bag before she can verify.)

She turns to leave. It seems like the obvious thing to do; after all, the whole point of this date was to help her stop thinking of Cassian, not to spend extra time together.

But then she hears his quiet, “Running away again?” and oh, that is it. They’re doing this.

They’re going to actually talk about what happened.

“I didn’t run away,” she hisses, slamming her hands on the table and leaning toward him. “I left. And you know goddamn well that I had my reasons.”

His eyes narrow. “You found a reason,” he accuses. “Not the same thing.”

“You’re the one who – “

“If I hadn’t – “

“- I saw you, don’t try to tell me you were just – “

“ – haven’t so much as looked at me – “

Suddenly, Jyn realizes how quiet the rest of the café just got. They both stop at the same moment and glance around at all the people staring at them. Most are polite enough to pretend they aren’t staring, but – Jyn knows when she’s being watched.

She hesitates for a second, then slides into the chair opposite his. “I’m sorry, honey,” she says, her voice loud enough to carry to the neighboring tables. “You’re right, we shouldn’t talk about that here. Let’s just enjoy our lunch.”

Her smile is bright and blatantly fake, and Cassian narrows his eyes at her as the people sitting nearby go back to their meals. He always did hate her fake-happy face. Which, right now, is an added bonus.

“I don’t know what the hell you expect from me,” she informs him, still smiling.

He opens his mouth to reply, pauses, then sighs.

“I just don’t see why you won’t even talk to me,” he says, voice low. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he sounded almost sad.

“I have nothing to talk to you about,” she replies, flat.

He moves one hand up, unconsciously, to pull at his hair. Which means he’s agitated, and trying not to show it. “Come on, Jyn. We were friends.”

“Acquaintances.”

Again he starts and then stops, seems to reconsider whatever it was he was planning to say.

“You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he says instead. “I know you know that.” His voice is intense, as if he can get her to agree through sheer willpower. His eyes meet hers, pleading.

There’s a long silence, during which Jyn discovers just how many interesting things there are to look at in this place. There’s a lovely blue tile pattern running across the far wall. The man two tables to her right is wearing a truly hideous hat.  In the corner to her left, there are three women sitting together who look so alike that they can only be three generations of one family.

“Jyn.”

She looks down at her own hands. The soft pink nail polish Leia insisted on applying is in jarring contrast to the scabs on her knuckles.

“I know you weren’t trying to hurt me,” she admits.

He lets out a long breath. “Good. That’s good.” He shifts in his seat. “So can we maybe – “

For a wild moment, she thinks he’s going to say “try again,” and the though sends a wave of pure panic through her.

“ – go back to talking to each other? Please?”

She sags in relief, and not even a tiny bit of disappointment. Nope. None whatsoever.

Cassian’s eyes are on her, waiting for her verdict. For someone who could kill the average man with his bare hands without breaking a sweat, it’s amazing how much he can look like a puppy begging for scraps when he wants to.

“Fine,” she says. And then, softer, “I didn’t mean to… I just thought it would be easier this way.”

The corner of his mouth rises in half a smile. “I know,” he says, and she knows he really does.

“So since we’re already here…” he continues, breaking the heavy mood. “Coffee?”

And it’s probably a terrible idea, but she finds herself saying yes.

If you’d asked her a few hours earlier, she would have said that sitting and talking with Cassian Andor was about the last place she wanted to be. But as she leaves the café half an hour later, she’s glad she stayed. Life is going to be a lot easier if she’s not trying to actively avoid him.

And her plan of getting over him by moving on is still on track. She’ll just have to remember, next time, to tell her friends who it is she’s trying to get over before they set her up.

Chapter Text

Her first thought the next morning is: oh shit, I slept with Cassian.

Not that she regrets the sex. That part was amazing. The patience and attention to detail that can piss her the hell off when they’re thrown together on projects have their upsides, as it turns out. And oh lord, is that man ever good with his hands.

No, what she regrets is falling asleep with him. That’s not how this is supposed to go. She’s supposed to be home by now. When they see each other in class or on a job, they’ll trade no-nonsense nods as usual. Everything will go back to the way it was. Simple.

But now she’s in his bedroom looking for her pants, and she can hear him moving around in the kitchen, and she’s going to have to actually talk to him. What are you even supposed to say, at a time like this? “Thanks for the orgasms, I’ll see you around”? “Nice job, ten out of ten”?

After finding her pants at the foot of his chair (and remembering how that happened sends a quick spike of heat through her), running her fingers through her hair a few times and tiptoeing out into the hallway, she’s no closer to thinking of an answer.

He’s in the kitchen, in sweatpants and a threadbare t-shirt, and she hears the sizzle of oil as he stirs something on the stove. She has to actively stop herself from drooling, and not just because whatever he’s cooking smells amazing. Cassian really does look good in anything. Hell, he even looks better than usual. He’s missing the guarded look she’s used to; without it, he looks relaxed. Young. Almost happy.

“Jyn!” He flushes slightly when he catches her standing there. “Hey. You, um. You want breakfast?”

This is where she says a quick goodbye, and leaves. That’s what she should do.

But the look on his face is a mix of joy and anxiety that sets off butterflies in her stomach. Freaking butterflies. Jyn doesn’t do butterflies.

She also doesn’t do breakfast with guys she just slept with. And yet, she finds herself sitting down and joining him.

And when he gives her a quick, sweet kiss as she’s leaving and asks if he can see her again, she finds herself saying ‘yes.’

After what happened the first time, Jyn is not enthusiastic at the thought of another blind date. To put it very mildly.

And when Jaina opens her description of the man she wants Jyn to date with, “He’s a real sweetheart,” she loses interest completely. She’s not exactly sure what she’s looking for in a man, but she knows that “sweet” isn’t it.

Her feelings must show on her face, because Jaina quickly says, “Wait, hear me out.”

She’s only known Jaina for a couple of months – ever since she switched to the Monday-Wednesday class – but she already trusts her judgment. She’s smart, and fair, and unfailingly honest. She reminds her a lot of Leia, come to think of it.

She can’t believe Jaina would honestly try to set her up with a sensitive, emotional type. There’s got to be more to it.

So she waits.

“He’s not, like, ‘nice guy’ sweet,” the other woman says. “And he’s not too emotional. Not emotional at all, really.” She frowns slightly. “A bit scary at times, actually. Mostly because he’s so mysterious.” She seems to realize she’s gone too far in the other direction, and quickly adds, “But he’s a really good guy underneath all that. He cares about people, you know? He’d do anything for his friends.”

And OK, “unemotional and a bit scary” does sound a lot more like Jyn’s type. She decides to give it a try.

She makes sure to check his name first, though. Just in case.

It’s not Cassian. She tells herself that the feeling she gets in her stomach when she hears that is relief.

*

“Let me guess. Kestrel?”

The man’s voice is wry, as if they’re sharing a joke.

It’s also deeply familiar.

She lifts her eyes slowly, taking him in. Grey sweater, a thin layer of stubble, tousled hair (some men use a disturbing amount of gel trying to get that look. He gets it naturally, she knows, from tugging at it in exasperation twenty times a day during his usual battles of will with Kay). Plus, of-fucking-course, the single blue rose her date was supposed to be holding.

“Hello, Cassian,” she sighs. “Want to tell me why my sparring partner thinks your name is Joreth?”

He hesitates for a second before sliding gracefully into the seat across from hers.

“Kay’s idea, not mine. He didn’t even tell me he was doing it,” he says, sounding embarrassed. “He’s been pretty big on false identities lately. Says it will keep me safe during the robot uprising.”

Jyn can’t help but laugh, earning her a genuine – if still embarrassed – smile.

“Want to tell me why my coworker thinks your name is Kestrel?” he asks.

She shrugs. “New policy.” He gives her a questioning look. “No real names until the third date.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, but wisely keeps his mouth shut.

She moves to stand. At his questioning look, she says, “Not that it’s not nice to see you, and all, but if this isn’t a real date, I’d rather just go to 55^th and grab a shawarma.” She and Cassian have been on friendly terms since their accidental date, but – ‘nod and smile’ friendly, not, ‘romantic dinner for two’ friendly.

He looks disconcerted. “You’re welcome to come along,” she adds, uncertain.

He hesitates for a moment, then gestures to her to come closer. He leans in, until she can feel his breath on her ear.

“The thing is,” he whispers, “I kind of need to be here for the next hour or so.”

It takes her a moment to understand. And then she can’t help a brief cackle of laughter.

“Wait, were you planning to pull a job during our date?” She whispers it, but he still glances around, nervous, and gives her a stern look.

“It wasn’t supposed to be our date,” he hisses back.

“Sure, yeah, that’s the part I thought was weird.”

“It’s not a job,” he whispers. “I just need to talk to someone, that’s all.”

“And you just need someone to sit with you and make you look normal in the meantime.”

He has the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. “Essentially, yes.”

She straightens her back and gives him a look. “Fine,” she decides, reaching for the menu. “But you’re buying me a steak.”

Cassian is a good date.

That maybe shouldn’t surprise her so much, considering that they technically dated. But they didn’t do anything like this. Not that she’s complaining; she’d rather be at the Falcon than at a stuffy place like this any day.

But Cassian fits in here as if he was raised using three kinds of forks at the dinner table. Anybody watching would think he’s the very picture of ease, talking and laughing with her as he sips at his wine.

She can see he’s tense, though. It shows in the tiniest ways -  the way his fingers tighten slightly around the stem of his glass, the way he laughs a little too loudly, looks around the room a little too often. She always was able to read him.

She always did hate seeing him look unhappy.

Before she can stop herself, she’s leaning closer, until they’re almost nose to nose, and offering her help.

Which is how she ends up in the kitchen, crying her eyes out as the staff gape in horror.

 “You said you’d always love me!” she sobs. “And now you’re throwing me away, like – like I was nothing!”

The subject of her outburst, a tall, handsome man who Jyn has never met before in her life, has spent the past sixty seconds gaping in surprise as she loudly accused him of running away without a trace after getting her pregnant. Unfortunately, he seems to finally be snapping out of it.

“Listen, you little bitch,” he snarls. “If you were dumb enough to get pregnant, that’s on you.”

What a charmer. Of course, she had asked Cassian to direct her to the biggest asshole on staff, so she’s not exactly surprised.

And yet, he apparently sleeps with so many women that he honestly can’t tell she’s lying. She despairs for her gender, she really does.

She lets out an even louder wail. “But what about our baby?”

The assorted cooks and waitresses watch in a kind of stunned horror, their eyes flashing back and forth between the two as if watching a tennis match.

He shrugs. “Do whatever the fuck you want with it.”

She flicks her eyes around the room, looking for Cassian. He said he only needed one minute. Just one minute of distraction, so he could speak with some sous-chef who apparently has something vitally important to say. He’d better not make her wait much longer. She’s not sure how much longer she can keep it up.

She turns back to the man opposite her, whose features are now ugly with rage. “What I want is to raise him with you,” she says, giving him a look that she hopes is one of tremulous joy. It’s a bit hard to project ‘I want to have your baby’ when what she actually wants is to knee him in the balls, but she thinks she pulls it off pretty well.

His face grows even colder. “Yeah, well, we don’t always get what we want. Now get the fuck out of here, or I’ll make you get out.”

“I… I…” she stammers. I’d like to see you try, asshole, she thinks.

And then, she sees a hand wave to her briefly from the back of the room, before its owner darts through the door. Everyone else is blind to it; their eyes firmly on her.

“You know what?” she says. “I think I must have confused you with someone else. Sorry.”

And before any of them have a chance to react, she’s gone.

“You owe me.”

He nods. “I owe you.”

“I can never go back to that restaurant again.”

He shrugs lightly. “Not much of a loss, really. Their coq au vin was terrible.”

She gives him a sideways look. “I don’t know, I was having fun.”

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, then relax as he smiles. “Yeah. Me too.” He clears his throat. “Listen, I was going to meet Chirrut and Baze at the Falcon. You want to come? Drinks on me.”

He looks more nervous than the simple invitation would seem to warrant, but she understands why. They haven’t hung out together as a group in ages, everyone clearly worried that getting Jyn and Cassian in the same room will lead to bloodshed. Which, to be fair, might have been true until not so long ago.

A small part of her brain is screaming that this is a terrible idea. That the whole point of this evening was to help her get over her stupidly pretty ex-boyfriend, not to spend more time together.

The rest of her brain sees Cassian – sees the happy, hopeful, anxious look on his face –  and shoves the first part into a closet and locks the door.

“Sure,” she says, meeting his smile with one of her own. “I’d love to.”

Chapter Text

It’s only after they start seeing each other that she realizes just how much their circles overlap.

They both know Melshi and his whole gang, of course. That’s how they met.

There’s the shared MMA class. Where she tries to avoid sparring with him, now – not because she doesn’t want to, but because she wants to a little too much for it to be appropriate for public viewing.

She already knew he knows Leia through work, somehow. Which is all kinds of suspicious, considering that Leia is the personal assistant to a US senator, and Cassian is… whatever he is.

It comes as a surprise, though, when he greets Bodhi with “Hey, Rook,” and starts doing some complicated handshake thing, just as she had opened her mouth to introduce them.

(“We met in the military,” Bodhi explains. He doesn’t say which military, and she’s not sure she wants to know.)

He even knows Chirrut and Baze. Of course, everyone knows who Chirrut and Baze are, but Cassian is actually friends with them, has apparently known Baze for over a decade.

Really, their lives are already seamlessly connected. It’s like this was meant to happen.

So of course, she starts to panic. Because things don’t just work out like this, not for her. She doesn’t get to be this happy, there’s a catch here somewhere.

When she’s walking down Delancey and sees Cassian in Starbucks, sitting across from a cute blue-haired woman, holding her hand – she’s not shocked or appalled. Just hurt, a dull ache that starts in her stomach and spreads, until her head is pounding and it’s all she can do to force her legs to carry her home.

She always knew it couldn’t last. It was just a question of how and when it would end.

At least now she knows.

*

Small-town America is nothing like big-city America, Jyn reflects.

All the trees, for one. The quiet. The complete lack of anything approaching a decent cup of coffee.

And the friendliness. Oh good lord, the friendliness. She can sort of see the appeal, for people who like that kind of thing. But she can’t wait to get back to New York, where she can walk down the street without people smiling to her, greeting her, trying to talk to her.

Case in point: Officer Bolvan, here, who has been talking for ten fucking minutes, apparently oblivious to the fact that she hasn’t said a word in that entire time. After two minutes, she could feel a headache coming on; now it feels like her brain is being used as a drum. The man just will not shut up.

Right now, he’s trying to convince her to call in the local bail bondsman and get herself sprung from county jail. Which she supposes is sweet of him, in a way. But the last thing she wants is to get someone potentially competent interested in finding her. She’d rather just escape on her own, and leave the pursuit to Bolvan and crew. She doubts they have 50 IQ points between them.

She can’t say that, of course, so instead she cuts in with, “That’s nice of you, but my brother will come get me out.” It feels almost true. Baze does call her “little sister.” And he had damn well better be on his way to get her, because if she stays here for more than another couple of hours, she’s going to go out of her mind.

Bolvan is so surprised to hear her talk that he drops the pen he’s been twirling, and is forced to search for it on the floor. When he stands back up, his face is red.

“I, uh. I may have called the bondsman already,” he says.

“So call him back and cancel,” she suggests, allowing a small fraction of her irritation to slip into her voice.

It’s enough to make Bolvan take a step back. Unfortunately, the woman next to him remains undeterred.

“Don’t be silly,” she chides. “It would take your brother hours to get here from – where did you say you lived? Pittsburg?”

Jyn’s not sure who this woman even is. Probably not Bolvan’s partner, since she looks to be in her seventies. She doubts that even a town this small can afford to leave a sweet-looking senior citizen weighing all of 90 pounds in charge of fighting crime.

Whoever she is, she seems to have some authority in the jail. And, in the spirit of feisty older women everywhere, she clearly believes she knows what’s best for Jyn and isn’t afraid to push her case.

“Will can have you out of here in less than an hour,” she continues. “It will be much easier, you’ll see.”

“I don’t. Want. A bondsman,” she replies, between gritted teeth.

“He’s a very nice young man,” the other woman goes on, as if she’d said nothing. “Polite. Handsome, too. I bet you two will get along.”

Did – did Officer Grandma just actually wink at her? Is she running some kind of bizarre, prison-based matchmaking service?

Bondsman Will had better not be expecting anything like that, or he’s going to find himself missing a lot more than just the $2,000 he’ll have to shell out when she doesn’t show for court.

Whatever he’s expecting, Jyn very much doubts that they’re going to get along. But her head is throbbing, and she has no energy for this stupid argument anymore. If some stranger wants to come post bond without actually asking her about it, well – that’s his mistake to make.

*

She hears them coming before she sees them.

“ – Liana’s right over here. She’s a lovely girl, you know. I’m sure this whole ‘impersonating an officer’ thing is all just a misunderstanding.”

The older woman is still at it, apparently. Jyn can’t bring herself to care at this point. The important thing is, she’s about to get out of this shithole and back to civilization.

Then they round the corner, and she can’t help but stare. Because ‘Will’ is none other than Cassian fucking Andor.

Who, judging by the smirk on his face, is clearly enjoying this far more than is necessary.

“Hello, Liana,” he says, grinning at her. “I hear I can be of some assistance.”

She wants to glare at him, wants to tell him to go back to the city and send Baze up instead. But she also really, really wants coffee and a hot shower, so.

“That’s right, Will,” she says, sweetly. “I really need to get out of here before my grandmother starts to worry. I promise I’ll pay you back right away.”

She knows Cassian hears the lie in the last sentence, even though the other two clearly don’t. She thinks they might actually be misting up at the thought of her poor, anxious, non-existent grandmother.

His eyes narrow, but he can’t exactly back out now. “It would be my pleasure,” he says, politely, and as they leave she can hear the woman whisper to Bolvan, “See? I told you they’d get along.”

“Care to explain why you’re the go-to bail bondsman in middle-of-nowhere, upstate New York?” she asks, as they drive toward the highway.

He shrugs. “Care to explain why the cash machine on 42^nd street spits out $100 every time you walk by?” he replies.

There’s silence for a minute.

“So did Baze send you?” she asks. It seems like the obvious explanation. Sure, there was a time when Baze wouldn’t have wanted to risk Cassian and Jyn spending hours alone in a car together, but the past few weeks must have convinced him that they can get along just fine. That they can all go back to being friends.

But he shakes his head. “No. He called me an hour or so ago, but when I told him I was on my way up here to bail someone out, he just laughed and hung up.”

“So are you disappointed it was me?” she teases. “You’re going to be out two thousand dollars, now, you know.”

“I would have been disappointed if it wasn’t,” he says, seriously. A little too seriously. He clears his throat and adds, “You’re behind by three, now.”

She scowls, and says nothing.

“Seriously, Jyn. This is the fifth time you’ve been arrested. You need to be more careful.”

She arches an eyebrow. “You may have only been arrested twice, but may I remind you that one of those times you were caught by a strip mall rent-a-cop?”

Now it’s his turn to scowl. “You’re never going to let me forget that one, are you,” he sighs.

She grins, smug. “Nope. I’m going to be reminding you of that when you’re 90.”

She regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth. Now it sounds like she’s planning to know him when they’re 90. Which is ridiculous; they’re barely friends now. Sure, they’re back to hanging out with the same people at the same time, they even talk – but they aren’t close, let alone together-for-life close.

She tries and fails to think of something to say to fix it (“If I still know you then” just emphasizes the weirdness; “I hate you, go away” would be overkill). But then he turns and gives her a smile that’s sweet, with a hint of what might be hope. And all the words fly out of her head.

The rest of the ride back passes quickly. He tells her the latest developments in the ongoing Kay-Melshi prank war. Melshi had the latest win, she learns, after breaking into Kay and Cassian’s shared apartment every morning for two weeks to move their sofa exactly one centimeter to the left. Unsurprisingly, Kay was half out of his mind by the time he figured it out.

She breaks down and relates the story of her latest arrest, which she has to admit is almost as bad as his rent-a-cop thing. She can hardly blame him when he laughs so hard he almost loses control of the steering wheel.

He’s finally agreed to tell her about his side job as a bondsman when they find parking. Jyn frowns, because she’s not ready to let him leave without hearing this.

“Want to head to the Falcon?” she suggests.

“It’s only eight,” he points out. “You know nobody we know ever gets there until nine.”

She shrugs. “So we’ll get drunk before them. I think that means we win.”

He grins. “I might even get to eat all of my own chili fries for once.”

(He doesn’t, because Jyn steals at least half. He doesn’t seem to mind.)

Chapter Text

“It was a job.”

Jyn doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want to hear anything from him. If she had her way, he wouldn’t even be here right now, but of course Leia let him in. She makes a mental note to yell at her traitor roommate later.

“I didn’t know you were taking that kind of job,” she replies, her voice acid.

“It wasn’t… We were just… Nothing else happened,” he insists. He shifts to the side, trying to move into her line of vision, but she just turns away.

“Jyn,” he says. Pleads. “It was a job for Draven, OK?”

She’s never met Draven, but from the way she’s heard Cassian and Kay talk about him, she knows he’s someone important.

He sees her hesitation, and keeps going, the words pouring out of him in a rush. “I agreed to do this two months ago, before - It wasn’t a secret or anything – “

“It doesn’t matter.”

For half a second he looks hopeful. Then he sees the look on her face. “Jyn –“

“No.” She’s furious now, in a way she hasn’t been in years. “It doesn’t matter what your reasons are, I can’t trust you now.”

“I told you, I –“

“You told me. What did you tell her?”

She’s made him angry now. He’s trying to hold it back, but she can see it in the way his jaw tightens.

“Don’t do this,” he says, quiet.

“Don’t do what? Don’t dare to tell you that Draven’s orders are fucked up? Look what he has you doing, you can’t possibly think that’s normal!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never flirted with a mark, Jyn. At least I’m doing it for a good cause.” And like that, the dam is broken, his fury on plain view.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” she hisses.

“You know goddamn well what that’s supposed to mean. It must be nice for you, doing whatever the hell you want, never worrying what will happen if you don’t get the job done.”

“Get out.”

“Jyn – “

“Get the hell out.”

To her eternal credit, when Leia comes home an hour later and finds her sitting on the couch, stone-faced, she doesn’t say a word. Just comes to sit beside her and pulls her in for a one-armed hug. They sit like that for a long time.

*

“You should date.”

Jyn sighs. As if it’s not bad enough that Leia and Bodhi are on her case. Now she’s getting love advice from 12-year-olds?

She gives the girl who spoke one of her more intimidating looks. The girl just stares back. None of the kids at Chirrut and Baze’s shelter are afraid of her anymore.

Cheeky little brats.

“Moreena’s right,” the boy next to her declares.

She glares at him, too. “And what would you know about it, huh, Ezra?” she says, sending out a hand to ruffle his hair. He ducks, and sends her a mocking look.

“You’re right, I don’t date,” he says. “I’m twelve. What’s your excuse?”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I wasn’t aware I needed one.”

Ezra just shrugs it off, but Moreena and her friend look contrite. “Sorry, Jyn,” the girl says. “It’s just that we know a guy we think would be perfect for you.” She and her friend break out in giggles.

As much as it warms her heart to see them laughing and blushing like normal kids (which it does, more than she cares to admit), she has to put a stop to this. “I’m sure he’s great, but I’m not interested,” she says, firmly. “Now get back to doing your homework.”

*

The kids are quiet about her love life for the next few weeks. In retrospect, that should have been her first warning. Because when have they ever given up that easily? Of course they were still plotting to get Jyn and this mystery guy together.

She’s not even surprised at this point to find out it’s him. At this point, she just assumes that any man anyone wants to set her up with is Cassian. If she’s ever wrong, it will come as a pleasant surprise.

What does surprise her, though, is being locked with him in a supply closet. Which has her kicking herself, because this is the most cliché situation ever, and how did she not see it coming? Of course this is what a bunch of rowdy preteens would do, if they had all of the emotional competence and respect for authority that she did at their age.

They jammed the lock pretty well, too. Two minutes of working at it, and she’s no closer to freeing them than she was when she started. She’s got to hand it to Ezra, that kid wasn’t lying about his skills.

“Jyn.” The sound of his voice so close to her ear makes her practically jump out of her skin, and the feel of his hands on hers a moment later doesn’t help. “That’s not going to help.”

Why is he taking that calm, soothing tone with her? She’s fine. Maybe a little on edge. Maybe her breath is coming a little quickly, and she’s trembling a bit, but she’s fine. She can handle small, dark, enclosed spaces just fine.

Shit. Ezra had better get his ass back here and let them out soon, or she’s going to have a breakdown.

“Jyn,” he says again, sharper. “Breath.” He’s touching her again, his hands running up and down her arms, which, she has to admit, seems to be helping her breathing. She’s still shivering, though.

He starts talking, telling her about Kay’s latest disastrous attempt at dating, about the job that left him smelling like fish for two whole days, and the cat that still follows him around, hopeful. It’s random, and funny, and she listens desperately, closes her eyes and pretends they’re sitting at the Falcon and everything is fine.

“How did you know?” she asks, when she’s finally under control. His silence speaks volumes. “You read my file.”

“I assume you read mine as well,” he says, matter-of-fact.

She nods, then remembers he can’t see her in the pitch darkness. “Yes.”

They’re still holding hands, and she is suddenly very, very aware of all the points where his skin is touching hers. Well. It’s not like it’s news that she’s attracted to him. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

The problem with being attracted to a man you’ve slept with before, she decides, is the knowledge. It’s one thing to imagine how his hands might feel against her bare skin, how his lips would feel on hers. It’s quite another to remember.

She’s wanted to touch men before, of course, but this is the first time it feels like an actual physical ache. As if something is missing from her body when he’s near to her, with a careful, just-friends distance between them.

No, she tells herself. Bad Jyn. Do not think about your ex. You know, the one who’s dating other women?

That’s the part she tries not to think about. Because her accidental dates with Cassian mean that he’s trying to date, too. Trying to move on. Maybe he’s succeeded by now.

She lets out a long, shaky breath, and feels his hand tighten on hers in response.

“You want to hear about them?” he asks, so quietly she might almost have missed it.

It takes her a second to remember what they were talking about. And then it bowls her over, what he’s suggesting. What he’s offering.

Her hand squeezes his. “I would love to.”

And so they sit in the dark, in a musty closet full of old rags and cleaning supplies, and Cassian tells her about his family. About his sisters, and his parents, and the few good years they shared.

“They would have liked you,” he concludes, wistful.

“I’m sure I would have loved them,” she whispers. And then, because things feel uneven now, she adds, “My mother would have loved you, you know.”

“Why do you say that?” he asks, and she can hear his expression, the single raised eyebrow; skeptical, but ready to be convinced.

She pauses, her brain catching up with her mouth a minute too late. Because now that she thinks about it, she realizes she said that because she knows – on a bone-deep level that’s beyond thought or even intuition – that he will always, always have her back. Her mother hid and fought and died to keep her family safe. Of course she would have loved Cassian. Would have loved the way he comes back for Jyn, when nobody else would dare. Would have loved the way he makes her more careful – not by giving orders, or trying to hold her back, but simply by being there, by making her play it safe so that he won’t end up sticking his own stubborn neck out to protect her.

She can’t say that, though.

“She would love the way you tell me off for getting arrested,” she says half-jokingly. It’s as close to the truth as she can let herself get.

His hands tighten on hers, and she feels him shift forward. “Jyn, I wanted to ask –“ he starts.

And then they hear footsteps.

The kids look so sorry when Jyn and Cassian step out that all of her anger drains out of her. They whisper their apologies with Chirrut at their backs looking as stern and merciless as some ancient god. Jyn doesn’t envy them. She knows that by the evening he’ll be his usual kind self, but at that moment even she’s almost afraid of him.

Cassian looks like he wants to say something, as the two of them are leaving. She speaks first, “I have to run. I have plans with Bodhi.”

He studies her for a moment, then gives a quick nod and walks away.

She does have plans with Bodhi. In an hour, which is thirty minutes more than she needs to get there. She uses the extra time to sit with her head in her hands, taking deep breaths and wondering where the hell her plan to get over Cassian went so badly wrong.

Chapter Text

It’s not until they break up that Jyn realizes just how much she liked him.

She expected to miss the sex. That’s just hormones, or something. A kind of withdrawal. It can’t be helped.

She hadn’t expected to miss him all of the fucking time. She drinks coffee in the morning, and remembers the faces he used to make as he teased her for putting in so much sugar. She runs into a problem on a job, and is halfway to calling him before she remembers. His birthday comes and goes, and she doesn’t know where he is, what he’s doing. If he’s happy.

Her apartment feels quiet, and her bed feels empty, and she aches.

She used to be fine without him. Her life was complete without him. There is no reason she shouldn’t be just as happy now as she was then.

But no matter how many times she tells herself that, it doesn’t make things any easier. He’s ruined her, turned her solitude into loneliness, and she hates him a little for it.

That thought, that whisper of hate, is what finally gives her a certain degree of comfort. She’s sick to death of missing people, but anger – that she can do. She can glare at him, and rage at him, and think of all the reasons she’s better off without him. Eventually, it will stop feeling like a lie.

Jyn sips her beer and peers suspiciously at her phone.

It’s not that she’s not good with technology. In fact, she’s fucking great with technology, if she does say so herself. That trick with the ATM on 42^nd wasn’t exactly easy.

But - dating apps. She’s never used one before, and she’s still not entirely sure she wants to start.

Leia was the one who convinced her to try. Demanded that she try, more like.

“Meeting guys at the bar isn’t working for you,” she pointed out. Which was true.

“You won’t let anyone set you up,” she argued. Also true.

“Of course, you could always give dating Cassian a second try,” she said, her tone carefully nonchalant.

Which was absolutely, categorically not true. For… reasons.

So now here Jyn was, preparing to look at a bunch of strangers’ profiles, and to click “yes” on three of them. (Jyn had proposed – strongly – that she would only click on a profile if she damn well felt like it; Leia had insisted – equally strongly – that she choose at least three. Eventually they had compromised on doing exactly what Leia wanted, as usual.)

She wouldn’t let Leia watch while she chose them, though. There were limits. It was bad enough that Leia and Bodhi had grabbed her phone and filled out the personality profile for her. (“You can’t just write ‘none of your fucking business’ for everything, Jyn, that’s not how it works.”)

In theory, the app is supposed to use her personality profile to find the best possible match for her. And then, if they both click “yes,” they can start sending messages. Maybe set up a time to meet.

She sighs. Meeting a random guy at the bar would have been so much simpler than all this. If only all of the single men in New York didn’t seem to be running away from her.

Time to see which of the city’s eligible men is her ideal match. And if it’s some douchey banker type, she’s going to hunt Leia down and make her pay.

She takes a deep breath, clicks, and the top match is…

It’s him. Of-fucking-course it’s him. Cassian. This time going as “Jeron,” which at least is sort of his real name.

It’s always him, and suddenly she finds her eyes getting suspiciously moist. Is the universe mocking her? Did she do something terrible in a past life?

… OK, come to think of it, she’s done plenty wrong in this life. But still.

Jyn doesn’t believe in soulmates. She doesn’t think you only get one shot at love per lifetime. Chirrut isn’t Baze’s first love, and the two of them are perfect together. And Han – everyone knows the surly bartender has it bad for Leia, and it’s not like she’d be his first serious girlfriend.

But there’s a part of her that feels like if she couldn’t make it work with Cassian, she’s never going to make it work with anyone. He’s smart, he’s hot, he’s underhanded enough not to be afraid of her own devious nature, but so loyal – to the things and people he believes in, at least - that she would trust him with her life. He can speak three languages (that she knows of), he makes the world’s best omlettes, and he can hit the bullseye of a target from so far back most people can’t even see the damn thing.

And he gets her. He’s always been able to see through her lies, her false bravery, to understand exactly who and what she is. And he liked her anyway.

There aren’t a lot of guys out there like that. He might be the only one like that, even in a city this size.

And she screwed it up. True, he screwed it up first. But she was so quick to throw it all away. So quick to move him from “lover” to “enemy” in her mind, without even hearing his words. Without even considering that sometimes, maybe, there were worse things than making yourself vulnerable.

And if she screwed up even this, what hope is there for her, really?

When she hits “yes” it feels like a kind of penance. Like she’s confessing to the universe; admitting that yes, he was pretty damn perfect for her, and no, he wasn’t the only one who made a mess of it. She’s not putting the blame for what happened on him alone. Or even on that asshole Draven.

And she knows he won’t click “yes” on her, but choosing him just feels right.

*

She decides she’s earned some time with Netflix before choosing her other two candidates (choosing Cassian counts, damn it, even if it’s not what Leia had in mind).

She’s just gone back to her phone, and is trying to decide whether or not to hit “yes” on some guy named Snoke when there’s a knock at the door.

She’s been thinking about Cassian a lot tonight – and, OK, for the past few weeks – but she’s still totally unprepared to see him on the other side of the door. She runs a quick mental check – yes, she did just answer the door in her sweatpants and an old, stained tank top, but no, she hadn’t taken her bra off yet, so at least there’s that.

She’s so busy worrying about her own appearance that it takes her a minute to realize that he’s soaking wet. Apparently it started raining out at some point, because his hair is plastered to his head and there are drops of water hanging off his eyelashes.

“Can I –“ he gestures, and she moves silently aside to let him in.

And then he just stands there, dripping water onto the living room floor, until her stomach feels like it’s about to crawl out her throat and she can’t help but speak.

“Did you want something?”

She winces at the sound of her own voice, impatient, almost hostile.

“You clicked on me.”

She swallows. “I… “ Great explanation, Jyn. Really articulate.

His eyes are on hers, intense, pleading, and this is really not helping the whole stomach situation.

“Why did you click on me?” he asks, still looking at her. She needs him to back up, to look away. There’s no way she can tell him the truth when he’s looking at her like that. Maybe if he were a bit farther away – say, in Canada – she could force the words to come, but not like this.

Instead, he takes a step forward, his hand moving to brush her face automatically. As if that’s something they still do. His thumb is rough against her cheek, and even that one little touch is enough to set her pulse racing.

“Please, Jyn,” he begs, his voice soft. “I’m tired of missing you.”

How does he do that? How does he always find the perfect thing to say?

He’s so like her, sometimes, but at times like this she doesn’t understand him at all. Despite everything he’s been through – and she’s seen his file, and what she saw there made her cry – he’s still willing to wear his heart on his sleeve for her. 

There might not be another guy in the whole world like him.

She’s terrible with words. But fortunately, right now she doesn’t need any. Instead, she tells Cassian what she’s been wanting to say by stepping forward, dragging him down by the lapels of his jacket, and kissing him as if it’s her last hour on earth.

His shock only lasts for a fraction of a second, and then he’s kissing her back, his mouth opening to hers, his weight pushing them both back against the door. He always did catch on quickly.

She hadn’t forgotten how this felt – no matter how hard she’d tried – but remembering is one thing, and feeling another. His hands curve across the bare skin of her back and his leg is between hers and it’s so much better than any memory. Soon all she can say is his name, and it comes out in a broken whimper that makes his hips jerk against hers.

They don’t manage to make it to the bedroom the first time. Oh well, Jyn thinks. What Leia doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

They make it into bed the second time. She pushes him down, sucks hot kisses against his neck, determined to make him as frantic as he makes her. Soon they’re both burning, hearts racing, but she keeps the pace slow, turns it into a sweet torture. The look on his face tells her he doesn’t mind. His eyes watch her as if she’s the moon and all the stars; as if she’s something bright and wonderful and new.

Later, they are quiet. Jyn lies curled on her side, with Cassian behind her, more relaxed than she’s been since she can remember herself. Tomorrow there will be conversations to have, misunderstandings to clear up. Tonight, there is just the two of them, in a moment of time that feels all their own.

His breath ghosts over her skin, tickling her shoulder. “I love you,” he says, his words soft and reverent in the silence.

He’s never said that before. For a moment, she can barely breathe. The words are like a physical presence between them, something shimmery and bright.

There’s a part of her, still, that hears them and wants to run. Wants to go somewhere far away, where nobody knows her name, where life is uncomplicated. But it is a small part, and easily silenced.

She brings his hand to her mouth, and trails soft kisses across his wrist. “I’m glad,” she finally manages to say, past the lump in her throat.

He knows exactly what she means. She can tell by the smile she feels on his face as he kisses her shoulder, each brush of his lips a declaration.

*

“I need you two to tell me something. And I need you to be completely honest.”

Kay is leaning across the table, his eyes alternating between her and Cassian, so intense that it’s honestly starting to scare her.

“What time was it, exactly, when you two worked your,” he waves his hand impatiently, “emotions thing out, and decided you were a couple again?”

“Sometime between nine and midnight,” Jyn offers after a moment of thought. Kay ignores her completely, looking expectantly at Cassian.

He sighs and pulls out his phone. “I got the message at 9:40,” he says, after briefly checking something.

“And you left immediately,” Kay states.

“Awww,” Leia croons, while Cassian glares at his roommate. “Something like that,” he mutters.

“So, ten blocks, on foot – I’m assuming you ran,” Kay says absently. “That puts you at Jyn’s apartment just before 10.”

“Hah!” Leia crows. “Pay up, flyboy.”

“Wait a minute,” Han objects. “He got there by ten. That doesn’t mean they were together by ten. These things take time, you have to use some sweet talk first, apologize and all that.”

Bodhi snorts. “Yeah right.” Now it’s Jyn’s turn to glare. “It’s not an insult!” he hurries to say. “Just – I don’t see it taking you two more than five minutes, once you were in the same room.”

She keeps her face straight, she knows she does, but Bodhi’s just known her too damn long. “That’s what I thought,” he laughs. “You lose, Han.” 

“So that’s 10:05, tops, for the Jyn-Cassian reunite,” Kay declares, pounding the table as if he’s a judge in a courtroom.

What follows is the most convoluted round of payments that Jyn has ever seen. Bodhi pulls out two ten dollar bills with a sigh and hands them both to Baze, who hands one to Chirrut. Han rolls his eyes and passes a fifty to Leia, who in turn gives twenty to Bodhi and another twenty to Kay. A sharp “ahem” from Kay then leads to more hands reaching into wallets.

When it’s all over, most of the money seems to be with Kay.

“It’s your fault for not learning statistics,” he smugly tells a frowning Han. “It all comes down to the numbers.”

They all start arguing over whose turn it is to buy drinks – most seem to be voting for Kay – giving Cassian the opportunity to lean closer, until his breath is warm on her cheek and they can speak in what almost resembles privacy.

“So much drama,” he mutters.

“I know. You’d think us breaking up was the only thing that happened in the city this year.”

He sighs, and she nudges him with her elbow. “Hey, it’s not like we’ll have to do this again,” she consoles him. He looks at her, curious, and it’s all she can do to get out, “I mean – we can just, you know. Not break up again. And then they’ll find something else to talk about.”

His smile is dazzling, and all hers. Jyn finds herself calculating how quickly they could be back in her apartment, if they left now.

“I think,” he says, voice low, “that is a very good idea.”