The world spun when she stood. So Hana laid down on her bed, staring at the rivets in the ceiling. Occasionally she glanced to the digital clock on her bedside table, the broken red lines blurring into numbers that didn't make any sense.
She always had trouble sleeping. When she was younger her parents blamed it on video games. It was true that staring at bright screens all night didn't help… but she could never explain it away without sounding like she was making excuses. Fast forward a few years and some misdiagnoses later: her new friend Angela set her up with another doctor who might be able to help. Lo and behold, she had insomnia. But like, she really had it. It was official now. A doctor said it.
Like, she'd been saying as much for years now, and if someone had listened to her sooner they would have known that, but it was honestly whatever.
Blinking a few times,her vision of the clock cleared out. Three in the morning. She knew if she went to the mess hall there would be some folk on night guard, taking their lunch break. If she went online she had friends in every time zone, all of them willing to lend an ear or a voice. Anything she needed. And if that was too much, too vulnerable, she could stream a fluffy video game and ask her followers to communicate only using memes.
She knew if she got up and walked across the base, Angela would still be up.
Angela had been her lifeline ever since she arrived to Gibraltar. It was the first time she felt like someone took the time to really understand what she was saying, not just parroting what she wanted to hear, or dismissing her entirely.
I can't go bother her just because I'm lonely.
Rolling onto her side, Hana pulled the blankets higher.
Then she kicked them off, legs thwumping against the fabric until she rolled out of bed and shot out of the room. There was no rule against wandering the premises in your pjs, just as long as you were wearing shoes. Except not even then, really, but maybe Genji was an outlier.
If she thought a little late night walk would help her settle down, she was sorely mistaken. Her heart rate only amped up higher, and every time she paced the length of the building she wound up closer and closer to Angela's private quarters. Patting her pockets, she cursed herself for forgetting her phone.
I can't just show up. I should have texted her first.
But instead she went right to her door. Hesitantly, she reached to the access pad. Then she pressed her hand to it, letting it scan her fingerprints.
To her shock and distress, the door beeped and the screen turned red. Denied.
That didn't make any sense, but at the same time it just cemented something awful in her heart. Angela said she'd given her access to her quarters, that she could swing by whenever she wanted. But of course that wasn't true.
Except then, the door swung open and a breathless Fareeha stood in the doorway, smoothing her hair back with a palm.
"Oh! Hey, Hana." She crossed her arms, relaxing against the door frame. "Should've figured it was you. Miss me?"
Hana took a step back in surprise— then launched herself into the air, throwing herself at the taller woman.
"Fareeha!" she shouted joyously, nearly swinging from Fareeha's neck. Fareeha squeezed her, arms secure around her waist. "You're back?! When did you fly in?"
Setting her down, Fareeha hugged her again. She was completely enveloped, one large hand resting fondly on the back of her head to hold her close. Fareeha pressed a kiss to her crown, lingering there to inhale deeply. "About an hour ago. Habibti, you didn't answer. Did you miss me?"
"Of course I did, dork."
"I did, too."
When Angela spoke, Fareeha finally moved out of the way, letting Hana inside. As head of medicine, Angela was entitled a larger living space– more like a tiny apartment than Hana's setup.
Angela stepped into view, hairpins in her mouth as she pulled her tangled curls into a bun. Nearby, a battered off-white coffeepot finished brewing enough coffee for two. There wasn't an actual kitchen in there, of course, but Angela was allowed to have a hot plate and a coffeemaker. Again, privileges.
In an instant, Hana intuitively understood three things: 1) Fareeha had been keeping her out 2) because Angela was getting dressed, because….
Angela gave her one of those million-dollar smiles, welcoming and gentle. "Here for another sleepover, Hana?"
Her face grew hot. "Oh. Yeah. You know…"
Oh my god. Oh my god.
3) I totally walked in on them getting busy.
Desperate now for an escape, Hana jabbed a thumb towards the door. "You know, I actually just— maybe I should just go."
"No way." Ever since she learned that Hana liked being carried around, Fareeha rarely let her feet touch the floor when they were together. She never let an opportunity pass to sweep her off the ground and into her arms, carting her princess-style over to Angela. "Now say hello to your girlfriend and tell us what's wrong, baby bird."
"Nothing–" The nickname, born of her status as the younger pilot, always made her thoughts scrambled. She knew Fareeha would never let her fall, but still she clutched tightly to her. "Nothing is wrong. Why would anything be–"
Walking over to them, Angela took Hana's head between her hands and kissed her on the lips.
"–Wrong." Hana was sure her face was hot enough to fry an egg, now. "Hi, Angela."
"Can't rest?" Angela guessed, brushing her bangs out of her face to kiss her forehead.
"Yeah."
"What a big friendly collection of insomniacs we got here." Fareeha said brightly. "I'm jetlagged, and you two just don't fucking sleep."
"I sleep!" Hana protested, huffing loudly. "Or, I try to. Not like someone we know."
"That's rude," Angela said, but she sounded more amused than anything else.
"It's true, though."
"That doesn't mean you have to say it." Angela kissed her again, deeper this time. Her mouth tasted faintly like ash, like menthol. It was familiar and warm, lips soft, tongue hot, stroking hers. But she tasted like something else, like–
Hana let out a shuddering breath.
–Like Fareeha, probably.
"I should go," she said again.
Angela drew back, the cupid's bow of her mouth bent in a pouty frown. "But I want you to stay."
"But I'm–" She had to stop to collect her thoughts, blinking hard because the room was getting blurry again. "You two were probably– I mean I shouldn't be here, I'm–"
She didn't dare say it out loud. She felt so stupid, just a stupid kid, running to Angela in the middle of the night like a child with a nightmare. Everyone knew Angela and Fareeha had been in love for years, they were basically married. And at first she didn't dare believe her feelings were reciprocated, it had to be wishful thinking. Surely they were just taking her under their wing, just saw her like a little sister.
"If she wants to go, let her go, Angela." Fareeha's voice dropped low in a warning. "Come on. Don't make her uncomfortable." Fareeha lowered her slowly, letting go with reluctance.
"My love, that protective streak of yours is absolutely charming when it doesn't blind you. Learn to read between the lines."
Uh oh. Now they were fighting. Hana waved her hands to get their attention again. "Angela's right. I just don't feel like I belong here."
Angela just had the smoothest, sweetest voice. "And why's that?"
"I don't know," she admitted in a mumble, eyes downcast. She wasn't sure she could bear looking into Angela's eyes right then. "This is all so new. I keep expecting you to wake up and change your mind about me."
A warm, calloused hand gripped the back of her neck. Hana nearly melted into that hand, like a kitten gripped by the scuff. Fareeha rolled her thumb at the base, right where Hana was tensest. "…Baby bird, when was the last time you slept?"
That made Hana blink and twist to glance at Fareeha behind her. "Um. Why?" she said warily.
Fareeha and Angela exchanged a look.
"Hmm," Angela said.
"She gets insecure at right about the 70 hour mark," Fareeha pointed out.
"You don't know that," Angela said. "It could also just be normal new-relationship jitters."
"She's only dating you, though."
Angela's eyebrow quirked up, chin tilting down almost coyly. "She's practically in a relationship with you by proxy."
"Yeah, but I don't fuck her."
Hana turned bright red. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here!"
It always surprised her, how strong Angela was. She once saw her hoist Morrison up over her shoulder, carrying him to safety before he bled out. Still, she shouted in surprise when she was lifted again, and then carried around the short corner to the bed. Angela unceremoniously tossed her on top of it, and then jumped in next to her.
"Hey! You can't just–"
Shushing her, Angela kissed her again. It was hungrier now, more of their body pressing together. She knew Angela was probably still turned on from whatever she'd been doing with Fareeha before Hana arrived. It sparked something in her, like jealousy but not quite. A sense of inferiority, maybe. It was a feeling so alien to her she couldn't name it for what it was.
Hana didn't want to beat this dead horse. But the room was finally still, and her head was clear enough to form the words. "Why do you want me when you already have her?" she asked, resting her head against Angela's chest. Her breasts were bigger than Hana's, the perfect size for a pillow.
"It's not a competition," Fareeha grumbled, sliding in behind her to spoon her gently. "You make us happy, you know."
"Ever since you came along," Angela said, stroking a hand underneath her shirt. "Fareeha's been smiling more."
Tension stretched her taut. All too aware of every part on her body that these two beautiful women were touching. She'd never done anything with Fareeha, not even kissed on the lips— that wasn't how their relationship worked. But she'd be lying if she said the thought never crossed her mind.
But nothing happened.
Fareeha fell asleep first, of course. She kept an arm over Hana's waist, reaching out so that she could still touch Angela, even in her sleep. And Angela kept stroking Hana, nails on her scalp.
She dozed, sliding in and out of consciousness. Then she let herself fall down, deep. Protected on either side by the warm, strong body of someone who loved her.