A/N: Written for Zhuy-chan's birthday. I drew inspiration for this from this fanart by ultrajacket.
X
Warmth reminded her of Jacqueline. She couldn't help but think about her weapon in the middle of the biting cold winter of Russia. Somehow her group had gotten separated, and as she curled up on herself, shaking as she hobbled, she only thought about Jacqueline. If Jacqueline were here, no matter how cold it was, her hands would be warm. Since they had been stationed in Russia to help heal those who fell under the Madness, they always held hands.
Kim rubbed her own hands, the tips numb, possibly frost-bitten. She searched in her pockets and brought out a matchbook, the Deathbucks logo on the cover. She opened the matchbook and snapped one of the matchsticks out of it. She flipped it on its opposite side and struck. For a moment the air crackled and a tiny bead of flame appeared, wavering in the the wind. Kim quickly blocked the wind with her hand and the flame steadied.
It looked like the candles on her birthday cake had months ago. She hadn't expected anyone to know her birthday and she wanted to keep it that way but somehow, aggravatingly, Jacqueline had figured it out and arrived that afternoon with a strawberry cake. Kim couldn't find it in herself to refuse Jacqueline and instead told her it would cost her to celebrate. Jacqueline didn't check her purse, as if she expected Kim to say this. She nodded, accepting the charges, and entered the room, setting the cake on the table.
Kim slouched over the table, watching Jacqueline from the corner of her eye as she stuck candles into the cake. And then, with a flourish of her hand, she lit all the candles. The flames were bright and warm, but didn't melt the icing. The warmth then had been different from the flames of her weapon form. They were not meant to destroy. They had been meant to create.
If Kim was quiet, if she listened closely, she could feel the warmth again when they held hands. It was a gentle pulse, a tiny heartbeat.
The flame from the match ran out and Kim scowled, lighting another.
She imagined how nice it would be when the others found her. She would go straight to bed- but before that, Jacqueline would warm the bedsheets, embracing the covers until they were toasty.
This match went out and Kim lit another one.
And another.
And another. Each match sparked a memory of warmth, of Jacqueline. Each memory distracted Kim from her thoughts of her true surroundings, up until the light was extinguished.
Until there was only one left. Kim shivered, staring at it. She wanted to save this one, thinking it was the only thing left keeping her warm and alive. After a moment of staring at it, she gave in, striking it, and dropped the matchbook.
She imagined the nights spent with Jacqueline, naked under the covers to better circulate body heat. Her cheek against her partner's breasts and the steady heartbeat lulling her to sleep. Kisses dotting her fingertips, and the smell of cinnamon and cloves enveloping her senses. The taste of hot apple cider on the tip of her tongue. . .
Kim's eyes closed, and then opened. It felt like a second had passed. but her surroundings had changed. She woke up to find herself really in their bed and Jacqueline pressing their bare bodies together. Jacqueline's lips were thin and drawn with worry, tears at the corners of her eyes, held back so as not to worry her.
"W-welcome back." Jacqueline sniffled.
"I'm home," Kim answered back.