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Cody’s house is a brightly lit, cozy bastion against the encroaching darkness of the winter’s night. He’s invited several people over for a Life Day party, and as a medic who worked closely with the 212th during the war, you’d received an invitation.
Cody greets you at the door and takes your coat, urging you to enjoy yourself. You wander toward the kitchen where a buffet-style feast has been laid out, admiring the vaulted ceilings and open floor plan. After selecting a few of your favorite nibbles, you mingle with the clones and other natborns you’d served with, all while keeping an eye open for a certain silver-haired sniper.
During your time with the 212th, you’d gotten to know the members of the Bad Batch. You were friendly with Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker, but it was Crosshair you wanted to get to know better. Despite his standoffish nature, you’d seen a softer side to him between missions on the Negotiator, when he thought no one was looking.
You’re just starting to think the Batch isn’t going to show when you hear Wrecker’s unmistakable laughter. With a grin, you go to greet them. Wrecker and Hunter return your greeting warmly, Tech with his usual reserve, and Crosshair just nods. You’re pretty sure his eyes linger on you though.
As the Batch splits up to greet others at the party—or in Wrecker’s case, to raid the refreshments—you unobtrusively stay close to Crosshair. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.
As the evening progresses, you find yourself talking to Tech. Crosshair had been drawn into a conversation about sniper rifles with Longshot, and Tech had apparently taken it up on himself to entertain you. He’s waxing eloquent about modifications he’s made to the Marauder’s hyperdrive and while you’re trying to be attentive, alluvial dampers and influx capacitors don’t really interest you.
You’re just waiting for Tech to take a breath so you can excuse yourself, when you feel someone bump into you. Looking over your shoulder, you see Crosshair. Next to him is Wrecker, with a mischievous smirk on his face.
“Ooh! Look who’s under the mistletoe,” Wrecker crows.
You look up, and your heart leaps as you see the sprig of green with white berries tied to a rafter over your head. Your eyes flick back to Crosshair.
“It’s traditional for two people caught under the mistletoe to share a kiss,” Tech says.
You have the distinct feeling that Tech and Wrecker have orchestrated this situation.
Wrecker is suddenly looming over you and Crosshair. The big clone plants one hand on your back, the other on Crosshair’s, and smashes the two of you together. Your arms automatically go around the sniper’s slim waist as you catch your balance and Crosshair’s hands close around your shoulders.
“Now kiss,” Wrecker says, then steps back with a satisfied grin.
Your cheeks heat up and you swallow hard as you look up at Crosshair. You want him to kiss you. You’ve wanted to kiss him for a while now.
“I’m hardly a trained monkey-lizard, to perform on cue,” Crosshair snaps at his brothers.
He slips out of your arms and disappears into the crowd.
For a long moment, you just stand there, trying to process what just happened.
“Awe, I thought for sure he’d kiss you,” Wrecker says.
Hot tears prick your eyes and you dart away, ignoring Wrecker and Tech calling after you. You don’t want to let anyone see just how much Crosshair’s snub hurt you. He was hard to read, but that’s why you’d taken your time getting to know him. Working your way slowly into his orbit. You’d thought for sure he’d been interested in you too.
“Stupid,” you mutter, wiping at your eyes. “I shoulda known better.”
You head for the room where the coats are piled and find yours. There’s no point staying at the party in your current mood. Pulling on your coat, you make a beeline for the front door and step out into the bracing night air. You’re halfway down the walkway when a shadow detaches itself from the surrounding darkness and starts toward you. You inhale sharply before recognizing Crosshair.
“Stars, you scared me,” you say.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Home,” you snap, stalking away.
You turn your collar up against the cold and shove your hands in your pockets. Your house is only a few blocks away, so you’d walked over. You’re kind of wishing you had your car as you hear Crosshair’s steps following you.
“Go back to the party,” you say, walking faster. “I’m fine on my own.” When his footsteps continue to follow you, you say, “I don’t need you to walk me home.”
“Who said I was walking you home?”
His dry voice comes from practically next to your ear, making you jump again. Curse his long legs.
“Stop following me.” You turn around, walking backward so you can glare at him. “You humiliated me back there.”
A look you think might be regret washes across his face.
“Just, leave me alone, Cross—”
You start to turn, and your foot hits an icy spot on the pavement. Crosshair lunges and catches you before you can fall. For the second time that night, you find yourself crushed to Crosshair’s chest. Your eyes meet his for a long moment, and you look away first.
“Thanks,” you mumble, trying to push him away.
Crosshair’s arms tighten around you. “I’m sorry,” he says.
You look up at him again, and see a blush darken his cheeks. He makes sure you’re steady on your feet, then takes a step back. Pulling a toothpick from a pocket inside his coat, he puts it between his teeth and bites down hard.
“My idiot brothers,” he grates out, “have been teasing me about you for weeks now.”
“Really?” You watch him with wide eyes.
Crosshair’s gaze flick to you, then down to his shoes, and you can see his jaw working. “I’m no good at . . . this,” he says, waving a hand vaguely.
“At talking?” You take a step closer.
He shakes his head, then says, “Relationships.”
Your heart flutters in your chest, but you try not to read too much into his words. “You seem to get along with Cody and Rex. And your brothers—”
Crosshair rolls eyes. “I’m putting soggy cereal in Wrecker’s bed for the stunt he pulled. And a few of Tech’s tools are going to go missing.” He huffs. “Cody is Cody, and Rex earned my respect.”
“Oh,” you say, not sure if you’re dejected or hopeful. If you haven’t earned his respect yet, then maybe you still have a chance. But if you haven’t earned his respect yet, what will it take?
A cold wind blows past, and you shiver.
“Come on,” Crosshair says. “You’re freezing.”
He shocks you by reaching out and taking your hand. You stumble after him as he starts to walk, then fall in beside him as he matches your stride. The two of you are silent as you walk. Your mind is whirling, trying to reconcile Crosshair’s words with his actions.
He doesn’t let go of your hand.
“This is me,” you say, as slow in front of your house.
“I know,” Crosshair says.
Your steps falter for a beat. You realize you hadn’t told him where you lived, but he’d walked there unerringly. He walks you to the stairs leading up to your porch. As you step onto the first stair, he tugs your hand and you turn, finding yourself face to face with him.
He removes the toothpick and says, “I owe you a kiss.”
Your breath hitches. “No,” you manage to say. “The whole mistletoe thing is just a silly tradition. You’re not obligated—”
“I know,” he says. Crosshair takes your chin between his long fingers. “But I want to. I just didn’t want to give my brothers the satisfaction of thinking they’d been the ones to push us together.”
“Oh,” you whisper.
Crosshair leans in and his mouth settles on yours. Warmth spreads through your chest, down to your toes and your arms go around his waist. His other hand cups the back of your head and you lean into him.
When Crosshair pulls back, a soft smile lifts your lips.
“That was definitely better without an audience.”