A little one-shot on Cor x Monica, or what I like to call Monicor (because Cornica just sounds harsh). I've really grown to ship these two and since I don't exactly plan on writing a long fic on them or letting them invade Unexpected's plot (although their pairing will definitely turn canon in the fic) I needed to relieve some stress and just mess around with someone short and sweet.
…..
Lost professionalism
It started with complicity and undertanding. She was an organizer and he knew just which order to give and how to phrase them. They never fought together, never let personal feelings get in the way of work, until the day her hunters brought him back to her on the brink of death. Cor the Immortal was only human after all, and Monica did everything she could to keep him alive. They might count on Noctis to save the world, but someone had to give sense to the world and reassure the population. That was where their work counted. After being watched over for hours by the same woman, Leonis tried to stay detached, although her eyes on him were now a familiar blanket, a solace that helped making him feel grounded when most of the time, he had no idea what he was doing. From the beginning, they'd always stay in close contact. She always knew where he was and he did all he could to assure her safety.
Monica knew how to defend herself in a political world, among kings and court's intrigues and she used that knowledge just as much in the wild, but it didn't mean she could defeat daemons or Bendersnatches. So Cor made sure she was surrounded by efficient fighters when he wasn't around. They mostly talked on the phone, working in different campsites, often on either side of the continent. They agreed on codes whenever they sat together after a long meeting of planning, sharing a beer -or on some luxurious occasions- a bottle of wine. Cor never managed to made her laugh, he was too pragmatic for that, too down to earth and maybe she was too serious even with alcohol in her veins, but he did make her smile and relished every little line around her eyes and her lips when she would finally relax and let go of her serious expression. The twinkle in his eyes at those moments made something ache inside her, but she kept it at bay. If she lost focus, she'd make a mistake and might lose him entirely.
After five months of talking back and forth, of meeting every two weeks for more planning, Monica admitted to herself she never felt as safe than when Cor was around. And he was shocked to realize how jealous he turned when considering the idea Dave the hunter was spending more time with her than him. He was a grown man, a soldier and a living legend, not some schoolboy crushing over a pretty girl. Could love even happen in a decaying world?
That night, they sat in her spartiate room, eating small rations and both feeling a thirst for more than cold beer or whiskey. Life was too short and regrets might pile up if they kept this up. What were a few hours of bliss when they sacrificed everything else for the cause they believed in? Monica tried to convince herself she was lonely, that she needed his arms and his rough voice in her ears only to feel alive. But the only question that came to her lips when he made the first move toward her was:
"Are you really immortal?"
Cor blinked, between surprise and doubt.
"I… I'm not."
She'd never heard him stutter before and decided it sounded good.
"You'd better work on that. I don't think I can lose you."
The space between them vanished, words losing sense. Promises would be lies, but actions never lied and Cor kissed her frail smile, feeling more welcome in her embrace than he'd been anywhere else. With anyone else. All those efforts were for her. When she cupped his face in her hands, in a gesture that had been wished and dreamed for months, his thoughts unraveled. He could have vowed to serve her and no one but her right then. But she served with him, her priorities straight despite the love, the need and how much she'd longed to have him.
If the world hadn't ended, they might have remained simple acquaintances, respecting each other from afar. Now, it was almost impossible to picture a future without her, without him, without them working as a pair. They were together in this, the bad and the worst, but they'd made some good in every little way that mattered. In a bed or on a battlefield.
When his phone rang, Cor barely muffled his discontent groan, the shivering woman beneath him sighing as her hands fell on either side of her. She wouldn't prevent him from doing his job. To make things better, her phone rang too and they parted from each other, clothes half open, half gone, not even trying to fix their hair. Both conversations were over in a matter of minutes and the laugh came only after they'd hung up, Monica unable to hold it back as she saw the desperate look in his eyes. He'd talk to his men with cold precision, but he looked flustered and anything but cold or precise. He doubted her laugh was a good sign and seemed ready to fix his appearance and leave, when she tugged on his belt, her laughing eyes and wide smirk making his heart jump through hoops in his chest.
"You'd better finish what you started, Leonis."
"If I do, you might not get a minute of sleep tonight…" he warned her, sliding her pants down and letting her do as she pleased with him.
"I'm pretty sure I can wear you out first."
"That a promise?"
"Depends. If this happens more than once, I might let you have your ways with me."
And there it was, the promise she wanted, more than any confession, the reason for her question about him being immortal or not, despite the fact she knew…
"I'd never let a woman in need fend for herself."
Her eyes darkened and her hands clawed at his skin, reminding him that smooth talk never worked.
"Mon… If you want it to happen more than once, I'll…"
He hated himself for walking right into her traps. He could devise the craziest strategy and put order anywhere, but sorting out the right words to admit his feelings… That was hard, because feelings were unpredictable and would sometimes defy his logic.
"I want it." she told him. "Just tell me the feeling's mutual."
"It's more than mutual, Mon."
The nickname had made her smile the first time he'd blurt it out and her smile tasted good despite the sourness of their meal and the fact their water was running stale.
"Cor…"
He kissed her to prevent any more words to come out. Words would create fear and his name on her lips, said with tenderness and such longing… He'd restrained himself for far too long.
This turned into their best sleepless night since a long, long time.
…..
Aww, little less than 1200 words on this. But they're sweet. And I want to spread the love. Older people owes some love too. And I can't help but think that those two would make good surrogate parents for Talcott. Iris already has her hands full, so she certainly used some help in raising him after Jared's death. All the fiction potential in there. But I need to leave, got to get through this awful week of school-work. Hope you like it!
