Work Text:
i.
They have this thing, Beau and Yasha, this thing with lingering touches and longing glances and awkward, kind-of-nice small talk, and Beau finds she kinda likes it. And, okay, admittedly, this thing between them had started out very weirdly. Beau, for one, had never heard of people meeting through murderous circus toads, but hey, it works for them. Well, it sort of works. Because Beau likes to act like she's okay with Yasha's waning presence. Except she isn't really.
So Beau pretends. She pretends she doesn't miss Yasha at all. She pretends she doesn't think about their conversations with a dumb grin on her face and a bittersweet pang in her chest. She pretends she doesn't remember the feeling of Yasha's arms around her, of Yasha's hand in hers. She pretends, and pretends, and pretends.
So, when Yasha comes back beaten and bloody in the middle of the night, and drops into Beau and Jester's room unceremoniously, all Beau wants to do is hug her, hold her hand, kiss her. But instead, she settles for a curt nod and a low hey while she helps Jester with the bandages. Damn it .
ii.
Yasha leaves again, not too long after that, and Beau goes on like she doesn't give a damn. Except she does. Except maybe she's not as good at pretending as she thinks she is.
"You're worried about her." Molly states one night while they're keeping watch like it's nothing. God, she really can't stand him sometimes. It doesn't help that he's very right.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Molly." It's a weak reply, with no real bite behind it, and he clearly doesn't believe her. She doesn't even believe herself.
Thing is, worry is a new thing for Beau, is not something she's used to. She's never had anyone to worry about, but now she has this weird, crazy little family and she worries all the damn time. It kills her not knowing where Yasha is, how she's doing, if she needs any help.
"It's okay," Molly adds. "I worry about her every time, too."
"Shut up, Molly." She replies, but in that moment, she loves him.
iii.
Yasha's not really gone that long. She catches up with them along the road. Most times, Beau gets angry at how easy it seems for Yasha to just pop in and out of their lives. But then Yasha shoots that small, shy grin her way and Beau is completely done for. Ugh. Gross.
Yasha eventually falls into step beside her, places a hand on the small of Beau's back, and Beau struggles to keep a smile from spreading across her face.
Yasha opens her mouth, but of course that's the exact moment a group of thugs decides to assault them. Great.
That night they all stumble into the tavern feeling like they're on top of the world. The adrenaline rush still hasn't worn off, and they order round after round after round. After all, Yasha's back, and as if that wasn't reason enough to celebrate, they got a nice sum of gold for turning those idiots in. Overall, a pretty good day.
When everyone decides it's finally time to sleep, Beau genuinely feels happier than she ever remembers being. She also feels more than a little drunk. She turns to Jester, only to find the tiefling already going into Fjord and Molly’s room. Jester just winks at her and leaves. Huh.
Of course, because Jester is amazing but also really evil, Yasha is in her room instead. They stare at each other for a second. Two. Three. Yasha blinks. Beau blinks back. Shit. She should probably say something.
But Yasha beats her to it. “Do you want to share?” She points at the bed, “or, you know, I could sleep on the floor if you don't. The floor is okay. I like the floor.”
“No! Uh, no. Sharing is okay. Sharing is caring, right?” What? Really, that's the line you're going with?
But Yasha just smiles at her, small and toothy and not shy at all, and Beau decides she doesn't care about anything else anymore.
That night she falls asleep in Yasha's arms and it's good. And maybe it's okay if Yasha leaves, because she always comes back. And maybe she can stop pretending. She'll talk to Yasha in the morning.
Except, when she wakes up, Yasha's gone.
vi.
It rains almost daily the whole time Yasha's gone, and Beau is furious at first. She can tell the group's doing their best to avoid mentioning anything that could be even remotely related to Yasha.
But, eventually, the anger fades and gives way to a lump of emotions Beau is sure as fuck not ready for. As the days go by, the hollow ache in her chest grows bigger and bigger.
She doesn't feel like pretending she doesn't care anymore, so she stops. She knows everyone's just as worried as she is. Yasha's never been gone this long. Molly barely sleeps, volunteering to stay up for multiple watches every night. The purple bags under his eyes are almost as deep and dark as Beau's.
And Beau is angry again, but this time she's mad at herself. She's mad she took so damn long to figure her shit out, mad she didn't tell Yasha sooner, and mad she wasted so much fucking time.
So, when Yasha finds them at a shitty tavern in an even shittier town one night, safe and mostly unscathed, and shoots one of her tiny smiles at Beau, she doesn't waste any more.