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Besides the extremely new thumping sound that probably woke not only Stelle, but the rest of the Astral crew up too; things were going well. Only hours ago it was quiet, serene. In her arms lay a girl, a very beautiful girl, who had too woken up from the ruckus. After waking up slowly, sleep still clinging to them, the train fully shook, causing Stelle to become alarmed.
Glancing to Firefly, casually, not truly panicked, watching her wake up, Stelle cursed the Aeons. There was volume coming from rooms over, and the two made eye contact, an unspoken question between them was asked: what was going on?
Before Stelle could get up and check, there was a knock at the door, and soon after a distressed looking Pom-Pom fell into the room. They were huffing by the time they got back on two feet, and Stelle observed that they were sweating slightly.
“Everything okay?” Firefly jumped to ask, her voice full of concern.
“Ah- ha, well, yes. Quite.” Pom-Pom’s eyes were dancing nervously around Stelle’s room. “The train is experiencing technical difficulties.”
“We noticed,” Stelle remarked dryly as she cracked her neck pleasantly.
“Hey!” Pom-Pom cried out, pulling on their ears. “It’s not my fault this is happening!” With that, and a last nervous glance at the two of them, they angrily pressed the close button on the door, and the light from the hallway ceased with it.
Nobody spoke for long moment. Now that Stelle was awake, she doubted that she could fall back asleep. Maybe Firefly wouldn’t notice, and Stelle could at least take advantage of the shared physical contact. The day earlier had been a good one, a quiet one. Stelle had managed to okay it with the rest of the crew to let Firefly on the express. March and Himeko were excited to see her again, but told Stelle to be wary, all things considered.
Now, Firefly was on her phone, the bright light of her screen illuminating her face. From this angle, Stelle could see how her eyes were bloodshot, how her already frail, real life body, was shivering. The urge to ask if she was okay was strong, but she didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Instead, Stelle flopped back down onto her pillows, and with a free hand, idly played with Firefly’s long curly hair.
Turning the phone off with a slightly agitated sigh, Firefly looked down at Stelle, the corners of her mouth ticking up at the sight of her. How utterly domestic, they were being right now. Firefly loved it. She couldn’t get enough.
“Hey, Sammy,” said Stelle in a hushed voice. Her golden eyes were lit with amusement.
“Hi,” Firefly responded, a full smile making way. She laid back down, Stelle’s arm under her, and she twisted in the sheets until her and Stelle were face to face. Stelle’s hair intermixed with Firefly’s, and Firefly could only think about how similar their hair colors were; how similar they were.
Behind them, Firefly’s phone beeped with a notification. Stelle raised an eyebrow, questioning. Everything in her desperately wanted the night to stay the same, for them to continue sleeping together, side by side, lovingly, like a couple. Instead, she worried her bottom lip, and said rather ominously, “I don’t have much longer.”
Stelle didn’t say anything in response, she just continued to look at her. What she was thinking of, Firefly had no clue, but she hoped it was only full of good judgments. About her, about them, about everything.
“Do you need me to text Kafka,” Stelle eventually murmured, her voice not showing an inch of emotion, negative or positive. Her hand came up to cup Firefly’s cheek, and Firefly leaned into it at an almost alarming rate. “I can do it for you, if you want.”
“Oh-- no, silly. You don’t have to do that for me.”
Stelle smiled wryly. “I know, but I’m offering. Kafka and I are fine, these days.”
Now it was Firefly’s turn to raise an eyebrow. There were so many things she could say, so many truths she could reveal, but all she chose to say was: “Oh really?”
A low, throaty laugh came from Stelle. “Positive.”
Firefly hummed, enjoying Stelle’s touch. Stelle was looking at her curiously, like she was trying to solve one of those blasted puzzles on Penacony. “Can you change into Sam here on the Express?”
“Well,” Firefly blinked, taken aback at the question. “I could.”
Stelle nodded thoughtfully. “And could you, oh, I don’t know, come back to the room with me when you’re done?”
Firefly stared at this-- this woman, who stole her heart, and who constantly blew her away with the things she said. She couldn’t keep the slight embarrassment out of her voice when she asked,“You would really want that?”
Gentle hands pulled at Firefly’s face, and as an answer to the worlds most obvious question, she responded with an easy kiss. Breaking apart, Stelle smiled slightly, and put their foreheads together. “’Course I do, babydoll. I love you-- all of you, Sam included.”
Firefly knew Stelle longer than Stelle knew her. She knew Stelle before she had to fulfill her script, and she got to meet her again, twice in one lifetime. As Firefly knew she would be, Stelle was the same person, but still so different. Of course, where Stelle is at right now in the script, those are things she has no idea about. But she did know who Firefly was, who Sam was. How Firefly has killed and hurt and survived and would do it all again, no questions asked. Stelle was a bit… softer. It was a quality that attracted Firefly to her in the first place.
“You wont be scared?” Firefly asked breathlessly, teasing only a little.
“Nah,” Stelle exclaimed, like it was no big deal. Maybe it wasn’t to her, all to Firefly’s comfort. Taking a deep breath, Firefly got up from the warm bed that they shared. Stelle patted where Firefly was previously laying. “I’ll be waiting.”
Firefly laughed openly, only somewhat wishing they were back in the sweet dream, where Firefly could be herself, but if Stelle was okay with spending time with her in her Sam suit, then who is she to tell her silly darling no.
Sometime later, Firefly returned to Stelle’s room, silent as a shadow even in her mecha wear. It was incredibly impressive, and one could say attractive, even.
“Could I sit on you,” Stelle questioned, taking her time at looking Sam over, memorizing every detail.
A strangled sound came from Firefly, and interestingly, Stelle realized she was laughing. Stelle grinned up at where Firefly was standing. “Is that a yes?”
“I,” rasped Firefly, who loomed over the bed before sitting down slowly, ignoring the slight creak the frame made, “can’t promise I’ll be very comfortable.”
In a flash, Stelle found herself sat upon Firefly’s lap. She was cold, to be sure, but the way Firefly spread her legs, the way she held onto Stelle’s body gingerly, as if she would break her, lit her with a fantastic sort of glee she rarely feels.
Stelle felt content, and even though she thought she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, sleep was increasingly creeping up on her. She tugged a blanket with her toe, and following her line of sight, Firefly grabbed it for her, laying it on her lap.
“Thank you honey,” Stelle said, stretching comfortably.
“Of course,” Firefly said, and Stelle wished she could see if Firefly was blushing underneath all that metal.
Yawning, Stelle snuggled deeper into Firefly’s armor. “Love you,” she murmured, closing her eyes.
“I love you more, my heart,” said Glamoth’s defender and last front line soldier, hopelessly and utterly smitten. And there they were, asleep and content in Stelle’s bedroom, a sanctuary that she invited Firefly into, for the rest of the night.