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Language:
English
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Published:
2016-06-17
Words:
619
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
3
Kudos:
96
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704

Not a Proper Toast, but Almost There

Summary:

Eiffel has recently returned from the murky depths of cryo. Hera's just glad to have him back.

Notes:

This is set post-Mayday. I really wish I could have made this longer, but I'm just overcoming a bad bout of writer's block, and wanted to get something out there. I added a couple more words to this and made a few tweaks, but if you find that this is not to your satisfaction, perhaps you'd like to pop over here for the original: http://noddingviolet.tumblr.com/post/145589186764

My inbox is always open, so feel free to say hi/request prompts/give me feedback on this. Thanks so much, and I hope you enjoy. :)

Work Text:

“Check.”

“Damn!”

“And, mate.”

“Double damn!” Eiffel pushes away from the computer screen and bumps against a wall. He grabs a pen floating nearby and scratches a tally on a paper. “That’s eighteen for you, and a grand total of none for me.”

“You gotta step up your game, Officer Eiffel. Not even Hilbert can beat me.” Hera says, a note of triumph in her voice. There’s no way to tell for certain, but it sounds like she’s smiling.

“Don’t remind me.” Eiffel says, opening a new carton of cigarettes. He takes one out and twirls it between his fingers. He raps his knuckles against a wall, and it shudders. He winces. “What else can we do around this tin can? I want something new. Something exciting.”

“Don’t know. There isn’t really much to do. Everyone else is asleep.”

“Right.”

“Officer Eiffel, aren’t you tired?”

“Hera, I’ve slept for a couple hundred days straight--give or take a few--and I don’t think I ever want to see the insides of my eyelids again. Never. Ever. Ever.” He picks up a mug of seaweed brew. “Nope. I’m gonna drink this stuff till I die from sleep deprivation.” Hera laughs.

“To staying up late,”

“To staying up late.” Eiffel says, downing the pseudo-coffee in one gulp. “Not the best toasting beverage, but it’ll do.” Eiffel rests his arms behind his head.

“You know, it’s nice not screaming or being screamed at for once.”

“Amen to that.” He says, trying to balance a cigarette on his nose.

“It’s good to have you back, Doug. You’re the only person who seems to treat me with any respect around here.”

“It's good to be back. And, hey, for what it’s worth: if it were up to me, Hera, you’d be the captain. I mean that.” He snatches the cigarette from midair and puts it back in his breast-pocket. “And no worries, we don’t have to do anything. We can just stay here for a little while.” He adds, quickly. “The Comms Room has always been nicer than my quarters, anyway.”

They don’t talk. Just the occasional creaks in the walls and the low rumble of the engine is enough. Hera does some calculations in the background. She finally has her fellow crew member again--no, not a crew member. Her friend. It could be something more, if they wanted it to be. Well, there’s no time like the present. They’re all probably gonna die anyway, so what the hell. Right?

“Doug,” Hera says at last. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it,” Eiffel says, keeping his head down. “But if you’re asking about the star charts, I can proudly tell you I updated them today. At least I'm pretty sure I did.”

“No, no, it’s not that. It...kind of sounds silly now that I think about it.”

“Hera, I’m your best friend. I’ll answer no matter what.”

“Do you…” she trails off, “Do you have...Do you have... --oh, god, this sounds so ridiculous-- Do you have feelings for me?”

Eiffel smiles and exhales.

“What gave it away?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” She pauses. “When I was hurt or broken, you didn’t give up on me like everyone else. You believed in me. And I believed in you, too. I knew you’d come back, Eiffel. I wouldn’t give up on you.” Her voice glitches. “And you know what?”

Eiffel raises his head and looks at the flickering screen. The glow of the star outside is soft, and in a strange sort of way, never before has it been so beautiful to either of them.

“What’s that, Hera?’

“I love you, too.”