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“...So. Why is everyone else in the Tower getting, like…an avalanche of cookies, but not you?”
The voice speaking from behind him was immediately familiar and well-known, but Crow still gave a slight start at hearing it so unexpectedly. Looking up and around from the latest flood of reports he’d been sorting through, he was unsurprised to find Sigrid standing behind him, her expression just slightly smug, as it always was when she managed to get the drop on him these days. He hadn’t seen her come down the stairs into the Hangar--but then again, he’d been pretty distracted with all the work that had piled up lately, so that made a certain amount of sense.
“Well, you know, I...move around a lot. We Hunters are most useful out in the field. Whoever organized this probably just didn’t want to send a flood of Guardians out into the wild.”
By this point, Sigrid had crossed her arms over her chest, her faint frown making it obvious that she wasn’t convinced.
“Which...I appreciate,” Crow went on anyway, committed to this excuse now, whether he believed it himself or not. Which he wasn’t quite certain he did. “Doesn’t do much good to try to subtly scout a place out only to have a sudden influx of...hundreds of Guardians there.”
The blonde Hunter’s skepticism had only deepened as he kept talking, and she gave a firm shake of her head once he fell silent.
“Uh...no. You’re stuck here in the Tower pretty often these days, so it doesn’t make any sense for you not to get cookies. I mean, come on...I even had to give some to that robot dog. Who doesn’t even EAT, as far as I can tell?”
Crow raised an eyebrow in mild reproof, but his smile was every bit as plain in his voice as it was on his face. “Hey now, Archie is a good boy.”
“Yeah, well...so are you.”
She’d said it quietly, but there had been a telling half-beat pause in the middle of her reply that indicated that she’d wavered for a moment, unsure if she’d be crossing a line, or if he would actually appreciate hearing it.
(...Or maybe more than just appreciate hearing it...)
Judging by how Crow’s breath caught audibly and the immediate blush that darkened his cheeks, never mind the way his gaze dropped and lingered on her lips in a very telling sort of way, that lattermost option was clearly the case.
That statement--that praise, quiet and faintly hesitant as it had been--was even more startling to Crow than Sigrid’s unexpected appearance, and the jolt of pleasant heat and sharp longing that followed were almost equally surprising…but not unwelcome. The two Hunters were together now, but things had been hectic for the past few months, basically ever since they’d finally gotten together. They’d had a week or two of relative peace, which they’d largely spent together, fucking like bunnies and figuring out this new version of their relationship and how (and if) it actually worked.
...And then they’d spent the following three months largely separated, both too busy to be together as much as either would like--in a platonic sense as well as physical and romantic. They’d had a day or two together here and there, and she sent him silly “reports” to read every few days about the antics her Fireteam got up to, and they chatted over comms when they could both find the time; but it wasn’t the same as actually being in the same place at the same time for more than a few hours. It had been over a month since they’d really gotten to spend much time together, and they were both feeling more than a little touch-starved by now; Crow knew he was, and he could easily read the longing in the way the other Hunter shifted her weight, subtly squeezing her thighs together as she bit her lower lip. Seeing that made him wish that he could be the one doing that instead, made him yearn to pull her in close. And hearing someone else call him good...
His attention was brought back to the present, the here and now, as Sigrid stepped in a little closer, reaching up with a gentle hand to brush an errant strand of hair that had escaped his usually-neat bun back out of his face.
“...Don’t you think you deserve a treat also?” she murmured, eyes soft but gaze heated as she looked up at him in a way that made his whole body suddenly feel flushed and warm and by the Traveler, did he ever want to put aside everything he was doing and slip away with her for a few hours. He wanted her, and he could tell that she felt the same, but even just…spending some time together somewhere quiet, talking (or not talking) and holding her hand with her shoulder pressed against his side...even a moment’s embrace, right here in the Hangar-
He’d shifted his weight slightly, the precursor to taking a step forward and closing the nominal amount of space that still separated them, when the main console gave an insistent chirp. The datapad that he’d forgotten he was still holding gave a series of beeps as well, and the Hunter Vanguard hesitated, glancing down at it with a furrowed brow. Sigrid waited, silent and hopeful, close but not moving any closer, not wanting to push too hard or force anything that he hadn’t chosen for himself--and then Crow gave an impatient-sounding huff and tossed the datapad to the side, letting it clatter haphazardly onto the console. An instant later, his hands were on her, pulling her in for a kiss, and the blonde Hunter went more than willingly, far too hungry for his affection to care who might see them. And it was everything Sigrid had wanted so badly all these weeks, both his touch and the kiss tender but longing, with a heat behind it that promised more-
Behind them, the console chirped again. Crow gave a low growl of annoyance and kissed her harder, drawing her in even closer, as if that might somehow wall them away from the outside world--but it kept chirping. Soon the collection of datapads scattered about his still rather makeshift workspace took up the refrain, a whole chorus of incessant and unrelenting beeps and alerts; and when another monitor joined in, announcing some sort of minor alarm, Crow broke off the kiss with a weary sigh. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers for a brief moment, then gave another sigh and stepped back, his hands whispering away from her to fall loosely at his sides. “Sorry,” he murmured, regret obvious in the way his gaze lingered on her face, in how he sounded almost pained at pulling away from her.
Disappointment was a bracingly cold wave washing over her, but Sigrid swallowed it down without a wince, forcing a smile as she looked up at him, eyes still soft. “I know,” she said with a quiet sigh of her own. “I-I get it--I understand.” Her eyes wandered to one of the nearby stools, wondering if it would be okay for her to at least stay here with him, to stay close...but then again, she wasn’t entirely certain that was a good idea. Even just being here, linking her arm with his or holding his hand or catching his eye and sharing a meaningful gaze...at this point, that might be too much of a distraction. She didn’t want to get in the way of his work, and if she stayed, she also wasn’t certain how long she’d be able to keep her hands to herself...
Besides, you have some baking to do, she reminded herself. Some very important baking.
Crow was still hesitating, glancing over the riotous cacophony of displays and datapads before turning a forlorn look her way. “It’s a message from Zavala, and also one of my scouts is requesting backup on a recon mission in the Plaguelands-”
“R-right. Um, I’ll...leave you to it then.” Sigrid started to backpedal slowly, shoving her hands into the pockets of the oversized subtly-Dawning-themed hoodie she was wearing as she went. “You know where to find me, if, um...if you have some time later?”
She did her best to sound upbeat and hopeful and just the slightest bit playful, and regardless of still feeling more than a little crestfallen at how things had turned out, it was impossible to keep a soft, genuine smile off her face when she looked at him.
“Right,” Crow answered with a nod, a slight smile tugging at his lips just as it always did when she looked at him like that, with warmth and obvious affection. “I'll try to hurry-” Yet another beep cut him off, and he shot a venomous glare at the offending datapad, looking as if he might be contemplating putting a bullet through it, and Sigrid couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Don’t work too hard, Mr. Hunter Vanguard, sir--and maybe don’t break anything either.”
Crow rolled his eyes at that, but his expression was amused, not annoyed.
“If the damn thing keeps beeping like that every five minutes? No promises.”
Sigrid let out a soft, airy giggle, and gave him a shy little wave over her shoulder as she continued to drift towards the stairs leading up out of the Hanger.
“Take a break when you can, and don’t forget to eat something,” she called back before breaking into a light, loping jog that quickly carried her out of sight.
Ruefully, Crow watched her go, then turned back to the array of demandingly blinking consoles, doing his best to work through them quickly but carefully--and also doing his best to put any thoughts of Sigrid out of his mind for now. He was definitely not thinking about the warmth of her hand on his face, or the soft press of her body against his, or the kiss they’d shared that he could still almost feel on his lips, and he was absolutely not thinking about what they could be doing right now if he’d only he’d said to hell with it for once again transmatted away to her apartment with her.
...It wasn’t too late to change his mind. She probably hadn’t even reached the Courtyard yet. If he ran, he could catch up with her--and then catch her up in his arms, and kiss her again for anyone and everyone to see. She’d do that cute little thing where she hummed contentedly against his mouth, and he’d let his hands slip lower, pulling her flush against him, so she could feel exactly how much he’d missed her, how much he wanted her-
The forgotten datapad in his hands started to squall, and Crow let his shoulders slump in defeat. There was no way he’d get all this done tonight, never mind in an hour or two, and new reports just kept pouring in-
Glint suddenly appeared beside him, and without preamble, the Ghost let out a heavy sigh. It was a mild noise, definitely more chiding than critical, but Crow still turned a flat, unamused look up at him.
“...Did you really come out here just to sigh at me?”
“No,” Glint answered with a prim sort of matter-of-factness, “I also wanted to stare at you with disapproval.”
Now it was Crow’s turn to sigh again.
“I have a lot of work to do-”
“Yes, and you've been doing it since this morning. Early this morning,” Glint retorted, and when Crow bowed his head, the little red Ghost’s tone softened. “It will still be here later. You should stop for now, or at least take a break, like Sigrid said.”
The Hunter Vanguard rubbed a hand over his face, then put down the datapad in his other hand so that he could use both of them for that particular task. His eyes were burning from looking at those damn screens all day, his feet and back were starting to ache from standing there for so long, and he couldn’t quite remember when he’d last eaten. A break definitely sounded good--a few minutes to grab some coffee and a sandwich, at least.
“All right, you win. I’ll take a break--a short one.”
“...By the way, how long has it been since the last time you showered?”
“Hey, I showered yesterday!” Crow snapped, sounding offended at the little red Ghost’s implication.
“Yesterday morning. And you’ve been standing here in the Hangar ever since,” Glint pointed out. “Except when you checked the comm relays, and came back all sweaty-”
“Right,” Crow coughed, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. He knew Sigrid wouldn’t care all that much about something like that--they were Hunters, sometimes they spent days or even weeks out in the wilds, which were not known for their bathing facilities--but he still had to resist the sudden urge to see (or rather smell) for himself how bad it was. “Maybe I’ll...go clean up, too.”
“And change into some of your comfy new clothes?” Glint pressed, and Crow huffed a quiet laugh.
“And change into some of my comfy new clothes,” he conceded with a nod, and his Ghost gave a pleased little spin. “I can’t promise I’m done for the night, there’s just...too much to do. But I will go take a break, at least.”
Glint seemed less pleased about that, mulling it over for a second, but then he perked up again a moment later. “In that case, I should get to decide where you’re going to take that break!”
“What? Why would you get to decide-?”
“Otherwise, I’ll message Estelle and tell her that you haven’t eaten all day, and that you aren’t sleeping enough, and I’ll send her the vid of what just happened with Sigrid, and then she’ll-”
“Okay, okay! Put away the big guns,” Crow protested, throwing out a hand as if to ward off the idea of an indignant Estelle coming after him, lightning already crackling in one drawn-back fist. “But also--why do you have a vid of that anyway?”
“Aster sent it to me,” was Glint’s rather smug-sounding reply, and this time the laugh Crow huffed out in response was more than half-sigh.
“...Right. Of course he did.”
After sorting through the (mostly useless) items that had piled up with the postmaster, Sigrid had headed straight back to her apartment to make cookies. True, she’d been making cookies a lot over the past few days, but those were Eva Levante’s weird Dawning cookies, and she was tired of those--tired of sourcing all those suspect ingredients, and also tired of using that strange, primitive-seeming oven to bake them. And tired of delivering them too, actually. It was simple enough to shove a box of cookies into someone’s hands here in the Tower, but braving the treacherous techno-urban battlefield of Neomuna just to have Nimbus say something completely vapid yet again as thanks for all the trouble she’d gone to felt like a colossal waste of time. Sigrid might still be relatively weak and often clueless, but even she knew that she had better things to do with her time than play courier like that.
And using her own, very normal oven, and her own far more palatable-sounding ingredients to make cookies from her own recipe, not someone else’s, was definitely one of those better things.
As usual, baking calmed her: all the fear and frustration she’d felt over the past few months, ever since whatever had happened with III back on Kepler, drained away, as did her disappointment and loneliness over her exchange with Crow in the Hangar. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said that she understood why he couldn’t get away from his work--she did understand, of course she did. He’d been busy ever since she’d met him, and that wasn’t going to change just because they were together; but just because she understood the why of it didn’t mean that rejection, even temporary and reluctant, didn’t still sting.
As expected, baking dulled that sting, soothing it away almost entirely. She’d go visit him again tomorrow, she decided, smiling to herself as she shaped the cookie dough into balls and rolled them in sugar, and when she did, it would be with a huge box full of her own personal favorite in hand: the very cookies she was baking right now, softly sweet ginger cookies that had a spicy kick to them. Her smile grew wider as she imagined the way his eyes might light up on seeing her again so soon, and how he might smile when she gave him the cookies and explained why she’d spent hours baking so many of them.
...And it would take her hours to make as many as she planned on making, and her back and shoulders would probably be killing her before the night was over, but that wasn’t going to stop her. Making Crow smile, making him feel like he was important, like he was worth something...she’d happily put herself through a lot more than some stiff muscles and sore joints with a goal like that in mind.
“Ya know, you could ask Estelle for help with this little project,” Aster quipped as she finished arranging the balls of dough on a baking sheet and tucked it into the preheated oven. “You’ve had lots of baking nights before!”
Sigrid smiled, as she generally did when thinking of her friend, but shook her head. “Estelle already gave Crow a great Dawning gift, remember?”
“Of course I do! And you helped her out with that, so…why not let her help you with this?”
The blonde Hunter shook her head again, something stubborn in the set of her jaw. “I ask her for help too much already, and I actually do need help when I ask.” She’d learned the hard way how foolish it was not to ask for help when necessary, especially when she had a whole group of people who were willing (if not eager) to assist, and who would probably be angry at her for not asking for their support. “...But some things, I can do on my own.” She gave her Ghost a cheery smirk, and Aster bobbed in place happily at the attention. “Like this! I’m good at baking, it’s fun and I don’t need any backup. Besides, there’s only one oven anyway, so...another person helping won’t really make things go much faster.”
“Fair enough,” her Ghost chuckled, righting himself as he stopped projecting the cookie recipe for Sigrid to refer to. She knew the recipe by now, but she found being able to double-check the amounts of everything reassuring somehow--plus, it kept Aster out of trouble, an important added bonus.
She’d just gotten the first batch of cookies out of the oven and was transferring them to a wire cooling rack when Crow transmatted in, whispering into existence behind her. Without a word, he looped his arms around her middle and buried his face against her shoulder, hugging her from behind, and Sigrid gave a soft laugh, too pleased by his sudden appearance to be startled.
“I thought you were too busy for me tonight,” she teased, without a hint of accusation in those words. “Zavala kept messaging you, remember? Is it really okay to leave him hanging like that?”
Crow didn’t raise his head, grumbling something unintelligible into the crook of her neck, prompting another brief laugh from the blonde Hunter.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”
His arms around her waist didn’t loosen, but he did lift his head just enough to say, quiet but clearly this time, “I handled that already. And you told me to take a break...and eat something.” He dipped his head down again as he spoke those last three words, murmuring them directly against her skin, then followed them up by biting down right there, in the tender, curving juncture of her neck and shoulder--not hard enough to break the skin, but still hard enough to make Sigrid give a low gasp, her knees suddenly wavering beneath her.
“Th-that...isn’t what I meant,” she stammered, fighting to keep her head clear and not simply turn around and throw herself at him.
“Don’t mind me~” Aster chirped from where he hovered close beside the rack of cooling cookies, sounding very pleased indeed with how things were turning out. “Can’t beat a front row seat~”
Sigrid rolled her eyes at her Ghost but didn’t dignify his typically libertine comment with a response as she leaned her weight onto the counter with one hand; the other scooped up a cookie, still extra soft and warm from the oven, and held it over her shoulder, right in front of Crow’s nose. “I meant actual food, like this.”
Crow gave a considering hum, having switched to pressing slow, lingering kisses to that now slightly-tender spot instead, but the smell of sugar and cinnamon and a few other spices he couldn’t name offhand was too tempting to resist. Sensing that he didn’t want to let go of her yet, Sigrid fed the cookie to him and, remembering what had happened the last time they’d baked together, she took special care not to let him get any of her fingers. (Maybe later...but not now, not while she was in the middle of baking--and while Aster was probably recording.) She could feel the Awoken Hunter chewing, heard him swallow, at which point he gave a contented little sigh and pressed his face into her neck again, hugging her close.
“You’re welcome to have as many cookies as you want, by the way. They’re for you, after all.”
She felt him shift behind her at that, his head coming up off her shoulder again. “For me?”
There was a part of her that hated how surprised he sounded, hated that he still hadn’t had a lot of kindness in his life. It hurt, and it further steeled her resolve to change that as much as possible, but even so, she couldn’t help but smile at the eagerness and excitement that mingled with that painful surprise and disbelief in his tone. It was almost childlike somehow, a pure and simple sort of delight that was…really cute, actually, and more than a little endearing.
“Yeah, for you. I decided earlier that if Eva Levante wants to leave you out of her little-” Sigrid struggled for a second, trying to find words that fit, “-Little cookie mafia morale-boosting bullshit event or whatever--well, so what? I’ll just make you more cookies than you can eat all by myself.”
Close as he was standing, she couldn’t miss the way that his breath caught at her words, or how still he went as he processed what she’d said--and then he was hugging her even tighter, his breathing definitely not quite steady. Sigrid patted one of the arms looped around her reassuringly, reaching back and up with her other hand to stroke his hair and cradle the side of his head; and for a little while, they just stood like that, enjoying the chance to soak in each other’s warmth and presence.
Finally he shifted, his hold on her loosening, but instead of pulling away he tugged at her, turning her around to face him. He started to lean in, but Sigrid was one step ahead already, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks as she went on up on her toes to kiss him, soft but firm. Crow returned the kiss every bit as eagerly, and Sigrid soon ended up pinned against the counter, but even so, it was still more tender and grateful than forceful or hungry, both of them once again taking their time to enjoy the kiss, to appreciate the chance to simply be together at all. When they finally drew back, Sigrid’s eyes moved pointedly to his clothing.
“You changed clothes,” she observed, plucking at one of his hoodie’s sleeves, letting her fingers lightly trace over the soft fabric with its subtle but striking feather pattern. “And showered, too.” Her eyes came up to search his face, slight concern glinting in them. “You didn’t have to, I thought you were fine-”
Crow exhaled something between a sigh and a laugh. “Glint said I should. And...he’s also the reason I’m here. He said that he should get to decide where I took my break.”
“Aha, well played, Glint!” Aster chortled, then shrunk back a bit when both Hunters turned their attention onto him meaningfully. “...Uhhh, oops? Sorry, sorry, carry on~”
“Anyway...” Crow continued with a slight shake of his head for the irrepressible rabbit-shelled Ghost, “about the clothes. I meant to thank you before, the note said it was from Estelle and you. So, sorry for not saying anything earlier. I was a little...distracted.”
Sigrid flashed him an impish grin at that. “Oh yeah? Distracted by what, I wonder?”
“By someone who loves me,” he answered without missing a beat, soft and earnest and happy, and Sigrid beamed up at him through the sudden threat of tears, a poignant sort of delight over those words twisting tight in her chest, proof that he really and truly believed that she loved him.
“You got that right, Mr. Hunter Vanguard, sir.”
Her voice wasn’t quite steady, but her smile made it plain that she was pleased with his answer. Crow couldn’t help flushing a bit at that sir, wondering at the curious way it made his already-singing pulse speed up a bit more, but he didn’t comment as he drew her in close, wrapping his arms around her again.
And then, just as Crow was considering giving into the urge to pull back just enough to kiss her again, and maybe not stop at just kissing her this time, his stomach gave an obnoxiously loud, pointed growl. The sound set Sigrid giggling, though she took any possible chance of injury or offense out of her laughter by going up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek before neatly extricating herself from his embrace and heading for the fridge.
“You’re on break, right? So, you should eat something. I’ve got a lot of leftovers from dinner, I made curry and it came out really nice, the beef is super tender and the potatoes just melt in your mouth-”
Crow was already snagging a bowl out of one of the cabinets before she’d finished talking, and before long he was digging into the promised savory, spicy curry. Sigrid got another batch of cookies into the oven while he ate--he couldn’t resist her offer of a second helping--and after he’d finished and scrubbed out his bowl, then washed his hands afterwards, he sidled up to her at the counter, watching her roll more dough into balls and coat them in sugar. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her make these cookies, and Sigrid raised a curious eyebrow at him.
“...You, um, can help if you really want to...? But they are supposed to be a gift for you, so-”
Crow needed no further invitation, taking a spoonful of dough and mimicking her actions, rolling it smooth before rolling it again, this time in the little bowl of sugar kept separate for just that purpose.
“...All you really need to do is eat them,” Sigrid finished faintly, though her smile went brighter at his actions. Baking together (and cooking together) like this was special in her opinion, a familial sort of intimacy to be shared only with a close, trusted few. It also seemed like a great test of a relationship: if you couldn’t work together in harmony in the close quarters of a kitchen, then a serious discussion or heart-to-heart might be in order. For Sigrid, having Crow or Estelle in the kitchen with her was just like having them at her back out in the field: she felt supported, like they would fit themselves around her seamlessly and help her in any way necessary, while not hovering or anticipating so much that it got irritating. It felt safe: it felt like home.
The cookies tasted especially delicious tonight, and they both ended up eating a lot of them. At first Sigrid had refrained from eating any more of them (she’d had one at the start, as the usual, necessary taste-test), but Crow kept offering them to her, holding them right in front of her nose in very much the same way she’d done to him before, and he looked so hopeful, so happy to share them that she was helpless to resist; so together, they ate their way through the entire batch, leaving them with nothing to show for it once the bowl of dough was empty. Sigrid had just laughed at that and started in right away on another batch of dough, as always getting out all the ingredients first and then putting them away as she used them. Aster helpfully popped the projection of the recipe back up again as well, and this time Crow helped measure and mix as well, and before Sigrid knew it, the dough was done and ready to chill in the fridge for an hour or so.
Crow’s arms were slipping around her almost before she’d finished closing the fridge, and as he hugged her from behind again, Sigrid couldn’t hold back another soft laugh.
“...Guess you’re still hungry, huh?”
“Starving,” he breathed out, low and rough, his mouth so close that his words tickled her ear and the sensitive skin of her neck.
“Well...there’s plenty more curry,” she teased, as if she hadn’t just watched him put away two generous-sized bowls of it already, as well as almost two dozen ginger cookies--as if she didn’t know what he was actually hungry for right now; the way his grip shifted, his hands settling low on her hips, and how closely he was pressing himself against her left little doubt of that. Sigrid couldn’t hold back a soft moan at the feel of it, overwhelming want taking control as she returned the favor, pressing backwards and grinding her ass against him. Crow hissed out a low groan at that and moved even closer, pinning her between his body and the counter. “Or...mmm...m-more cookies-”
Abruptly Crow stepped back and away, and Sigrid couldn’t hold back a reflexive, plaintive little sound at the devastating loss of his warmth and weight over and against her--
But the reason for it was made immediately obvious as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her off towards her bedroom. Sigrid gaped up at him--he’d never been quite this proactive before, not that she was complaining--and he looked at her with an outright wicked smirk that had an eager shiver of anticipation shuddering through her.
“Tempting as that is...I already know exactly what I wanna eat next...”