Work Text:
Whatever the thing between them is, she’s not going to label it.
Whatever the thing between them is, he’s not going to be the first to say it.
Whatever this thing is, it means the world to them. It means life and death. It means “Is there some concern?” - “Maybe a little”. It means “I won’t see you court-martialed for that woman”. It means “I missed my shot”. It means “Tell me what happened. Then we’ll get your story straightened out”. It means rolled eyes and “Incoming, Halsey”. It means “You know me better than I thought, Captain” - “I do my best, Sarah”.
It’s the first name basis, regardless of who’s listening. It’s covering for each other when ONI’s dogs are baying for blood. It’s the always a step behind and to the right, at each other’s backs. It’s the messes and the victories and the losses and the late nights. It’s the whiskey and the silences. It’s keeping the damn tub afloat when it all goes to hell.
The unspoken thing had such a strong start too. They didn’t stand a chance. Not many first meetings have you saving your new coworker from getting spaced while the shiny new ship you’ve both been assigned gets hijacked.
People leave or they die or they get out. They’ve known more of the former than the latter. So far both of them have held onto this thing and each other and the job. Not much of a choice most of the time, but what kind of Spartan chooses to jog with a normal human. They don’t say it, not with words. Deep rooted care flourishing in false ignorance. The UNSC doesn’t allow for much choice - not any true choices anyways. But the ones they do get, those are the ones where they choose each other, over and over again.