Jyn doesn't come every night to sleep curled up in his chair. Cassian tries to assign a pattern to her arrivals, but she shows up sporadically, and he can only guess at her motives. He thinks, based on the dark circles under her eyes, that she stays awake for as many days as she can, and then allows herself the comfort of sleeping in his quiet quarters. Perhaps she tries to sleep, only to find rest elusive or chased away by shadows and dreams. She rarely comes while he's still awake, and she tends to leave after an hour or so if he's up when she arrives. Sometimes they drink tea. Sometimes what they drink is stronger than tea. They mostly talk about nothing, both expertly avoiding the subject of Scarif and the devastation they faced together in each other's arms. The base is moved to the frigid wasteland of Hoth, and Cassian paces ruts in the the ice for two days straight checking the rosters to make sure her name is on it. He is evacuated safely in the first wave, but Jyn is part of Infantry now. Her squad stays and fights, leading raids on Imperial strongholds and removing sensitive data from the computer systems that are too old or cumbersome to make the trip. He hears the losses called out in the war room as he walks past a few too many times every hour to fool anyone about coincidence. Then, finally. Finally he sees her name on the manifest of a transport ship. There is no status next to her name, yet.

Cassian hangs back in the shadows when the ship unloads, and his knees feel weak when she walks - walks - on her own power down the ramp. She's limping again, and favoring her left arm, holding it awkwardly against her side, blaster gripped firmly in her good arm, and she has a few visible, vivid bruises, but she's alive. He sags limply against the frozen wall and whispers a prayer of relief to a Force he barely believes in. This may be the second time in his adult life that he's prayed for anything. Maybe the Force isn't against him after all. He stays pressed into the ice as the ground troops pass by on their way to medical or muster, and considers following her.

He doesn't see Jyn again for six days.

Billeting on Hoth is even worse than on Yavin 4, and Jyn starts to miss the comforts of her cell on Wobani. She only had one roommate there, even if she did threaten to kill her on a regular basis. The medbay was slightly warmer, and her berthing now is so cold that she worries she'll lose a finger if she sleeps without warm gloves - if only she had some. She considered appropriating a pair of thick gloves from a fellow soldier, but Saw's voice still echoes between her ears. "Never take from the man who has your back. That's just taking from yourself." Instead she fists her hands and paces until morning, out of sight of her slumbering comrades. Jyn wonders if they know how much she hates them for their ability to drift to sleep carelessly. She used to be like them. Before Scarif. Before Cassian. Back when she lived and died for Saw's every word and his nods of approval. Even after he left her, she could catch a few minutes in an out of the way alley or a corner of an abandoned warehouse. Now she just watches. Waiting. Perhaps she's waiting for the death that didn't come, she thinks, and smiles wryly at the conclusion. Leave it to her to go macabre when frostbite and hypothermia are her greatest foes.

Cassian leaves for a quick, and mostly successful meeting with an informant, and almost misses her in the messhall when he returns. She's off to one side, sitting alone, and he spies the back of her bowed head. The posture, he knows, tells most people to stay away. He ignores their wide eyes and sets his tray across from hers. The eyes and surprised "oh" that she utters tells him he's startled her.

"Sorry." He smiles roguishly. "Didn't mean to..."

"I'm fine." She cuts him off, frowning. She tells him that she's fine fairly often for someone who looks so sad. Her eyes are more tired than ever, and Cassian wonders if she's slept at all since he saw her limp off of that transport ship. She hasn't. Not really.

He watches her in silence while he eats. The food grows cold quickly in the chilly galley, but he notices that Jyn pushed hers around the plate more than she actually eats it. He examines what he can see of her face, eyes mostly covered with stray bangs. Her cheekbones seem sunken, and her skin has an unhealthy pallor. It could be the cold. He feels stifled and watched, and doesn't attempt conversation. When he sees her head bob in that tell-tale nod of sleep, he bumps their trays together in an obvious attempt to startle her awake. She meets his gaze, eyes unfocused, but friendly, and he gestures wordlessly for her to follow him. She clumsily grabs her tray, and dumps the uneaten food in the garbage bin before tossing it on the pile.

Cassian waits patiently for her, examining her gait for traces of that limp he saw days ago. He limps now, almost constantly in this cold, and he grits his teeth to try to cover up the hitch in his gait. She walks with ease and grace.

"It's the same code." He speaks mere centimeters from her ear as he punches the numbers into the lock. He sees her glance up at the door number and catalog it.

The room is smaller than his quarters on Yavin 4, but he has squeezed a full-sized sofa against one wall. He had to barter a return on a favor and a mostly full bottle of gin that rather tasted like fuel and piss to get it. And he lost his desk. The gray blanket is folded neatly on the back of the piece of furniture. He watches her eyes dart around the room, taking it in.

"Officers certainly live well in the Rebellion." She finally notes, still standing stiffly just inside the entrance. Her own quarters are dingier and colder than ever. Racks pushed closer together to pack in more bodies. At least the cold keeps the smell at bay; on Yavin the bay smelled like feet and sweat and mildew.

"Are you hungry?" He offers her a package of crunchy snacks, but she politely declines. He almost makes her dinner anyway, even though he knows she'll refuse.

"No. Thank you."

"I'm going to make some tea." He doesn't ask if she wants anything, he just hands her a mug of steaming liquid and gestures for her to sit on the sofa. He takes a seat at the other end, and grabs a datapad from the table. He has some work to finish, and he might be able to concentrate on it now that he's not worrying. Jyn shivers a few times, and he pulls the blanket off the back of the sofa and hands it to her without a word. He hears the clink of her mug on the icy floor as she sits it down to arrange the blanket around her.

The next time he glances in her direction, Jyn is fast asleep sitting up, head cushioned against the back of the sofa. Something warm blooms inside of his chest at the sight of her, sleeping next to him. It's so kriffing domestic and normal. Ordinary and extraordinary at the same time. He rises and gently loosens her grip on the empty mug. She needs the rest, and he deposits a pillow in the middle of the seat before changing out of his uniform and crawling into his own bed. She's gone in the morning before he wakes, but he is heartened that she may return.


They continue the pattern of Jyn arriving sporadically and sleeping in his room for several weeks. Sometimes he is off world, and she has the place to herself. It feels odd to her, to inhabit his space without him. Almost like she's intruding. An interloper. But he's welcomed her again and again, and never expels her from his quarters when he arrives and finds her already present. It never occurs to Cassian that others have noticed until Lieutenant Colonel Jiro corners him after a meeting five weeks after arriving on Hoth.

"Are you not understanding of the concept of fraternization, Captain Andor?" He has several centimeters on her in height, but the Lieutenant Colonel is a formidable woman. She has an unusual lilt to her Basic, and he wonders from where she hails. Her word order is slightly off. If he was better rested himself, he could probably figure it out easily.

"Ma'am?"

"I refer, of course, to your friend, Corporal Erso." Cassian meets General Draven's eyes over the Colonel's shoulder, and sees nothing helpful there. "I understand many nights she spends in your quarters."

Cassian is at a loss for words. "I...she...we...aren't..."

"An officer fraternizing with a corporal will not be tolerated, Captain." Jiro eyes him, and he doesn't like the look she's shooting him, and her diction changes formally. "You are risking your career here."

He finally finds his voice, and it comes out louder than he'd inteneded. "I am not in her chain of command, and she sleeps on my sofa from time to time. Nothing more." He breathes slowly and continues before she can cut him off. "I can have no affect on her advancement, and I have no undue influence on the assignment or performance of her duties."

"I understand what you did for the Rebellion on Scarif, and we are all grateful," Lieutenant Colonel Jiro stands in front of him, hand extended like a knife toward his chest. "But these relationships are prejudicial to good order and discipline. End it."

Draven has moved to stand behind the Colonel's left shoulder, and Cassian feels like a cornered animal. This could have been avoided if they'd taken his advice and offered her a commission, he thinks angrily as Draven makes a face that tells him that he agrees with Jiro.


Three. Cassian Andor has ignored three direct orders in his twenty years fighting for the Rebellion. All three involve Jyn Erso. When she slips inside his quarters the night after his warning from Jiro, his heart shudders, and he ignores it. He's inside, reading - for pleasure this time, and she stands, fists clenched and breathing heavily inside the door.

"I'm going to kill him." She starts pacing, stalking around his small room.

Cassian marks his place in the book, and sets it aside. Patiently waiting.

"I'm going to kill him." She makes three more full revolutions and stops in front of him, feet splayed apart, and hands on her hips.

"Who?"

"Bessel." She spits out the name, and Cassian feels his heart sink.

"Why?"

"I'm on restriction." She sneers. "Apparently I can't follow orders, and now I'm off the squad." She resumes pacing. "Do you know what they have me doing now?"

She can still hear his voice too close to her face, spittle hitting her forehead as he bellowed. "You're dangerous, Erso. Shape up or I'll make you rue the day you decided to join the Rebellion." She doesn't retort that she already does. Usually. Except for one thing. Except for Cassian. "You're done here." He sneered at her. "Enjoy your extra duty."

He waits silently.

"I'm digging tunnels and serving that slop they call food."

Cassian frowns at that, not that he hasn't volunteered for a few working parties. It's good exercise, and there is no gym here, yet. KP duty, however, isn't the worst punishment he can imagine. At least the kitchens are warm with the heat of the stoves.

"And I'm pulling extra watches for the next month." She stops pacing again, and faces him. "Can you tell me why?"

He's genuinely puzzled now.

"Bessel said to ask you." She's mad at him, he realizes. She thinks he had her pulled off of the dangerous jobs. "Why would you do this?" Her voice cracks, and Cassian thinks he may have broken along with it.

"I did not do this." He stands, hands extended to placate her, a gesture of surrender.

"Then why did Bessel tell me to ask you about it?" Jyn isn't backing down, and he recognizes the look in her eyes. He's seen it before. After Eadu.

Cassian goes silent for a moment, and a hideous thought occurs to him. Jiro. Draven. They're firing back at him in the worst possible way. Or possibly Bessel is just tired of her questioning him. It could be either, honestly.

"Jyn." He keeps his voice low and soft. "I didn't ask anyone to pull you off duty." He runs one hand through his hair now, unsure of how to tell her what he suspects is going on.

"A few days ago Jiro got in my face. She said I have to end our...this..." He's not sure what to call this thing between them. It's everything and something and nothing at the same time. "Relationship."

"What?" Jyn is genuinely confused now, and Cassian tries to ignore the endearing way her brows furrows when she's thinking this intently.

"Technically it's fraternizing." He shrugs one shoulder. "Officer to enlisted. They usually look the other way. It never occurred to me that it might come around and affect you." He'd been prepared to take that hit, and he's seething to realize that they're taking it out on Jyn.

"I'm not sleeping with you." She almost phrased it like a question, and Cassian isn't sure where she's going with this. "Why do they care where I sleep or who I'm friends with?"

Cassian doesn't have a good answer for that, but he's grateful that her anger seems to have deflated.

He watches as she sits heavily on the chair at his little table, deep in thought.

Cassian is her only friend. The only person she likes or trusts in this crap hole of a planet. They can't take that away, too.

"Jyn, I..." He starts, but trails off when he can't find the word to finish. "No one can tell you who to be friends with. Not even the Rebellion."

"Maybe I should leave." He thinks he hears her murmur.

"What?" Surprise and confusion. "Leave?"

"Yeah." Jyn stands and paces again. "Maybe I should go. I've never been great at following orders anyway. I can make it on my own."

Cassian thinks he has to swallow his stomach and his heart to return them to their assigned spaces in his body. "Give it a month?" He bargains. "Please?" Cassian Andor is not accustomed to asking for favors.

"Why?" She's pretty sure Bessel will never like her, no matter what orders she follows.

"Just. One month." He's scrambling for a good reason now. "It's still new. It may just need some getting used to."

"One month?" She presses.

"One." He has to add. "And promise you'll say goodbye before you go. Don't just disappear." He is aware of her penchant for vanishing. He's read all about it.

"A month." She repeats more to herself than to him. "Okay."

They lapse into silence, and Cassian falls back on old habits to ease the tension. He isn't altogether certain that alcohol is a good idea, but he has a stash of premium Coruscanti tea that he breaks out when he's in a particularly bad mood and has to fly soon. It's their tradition, anyway. She sits at his table, and he makes her a hot beverage. They sit amicably and sip, the only noise the occasional slurping sound.

"At the risk of offending you, did you cross Bessel recently?" Cassian recalls their breakfast conversation from several weeks ago.

She remains quiet a hair too long, and Cassian can tell what's coming before the words tumble out of her mouth.

"I might have insinuated that he's more suited to scraping the slime off a Hutt's balls than commanding a company of soldiers." She shrugs, and Cassian nearly inhales hot tea up his nose as he snorts.

"Seriously, Jyn?" He's biting the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing now.

"Maybe. I may have called him a hotheaded harpy, too." She's smiling in earnest now, and Cassian can no longer contain his laughter. It has been so long since he's laughed, he'd almost forgotten how.

"So, maybe this isn't about us after all?" He manages between breaths.

"Maybe." She's still smiling at him.

Cassian tries to cover his relief with activity, and rises to make them both some food. It's nothing fancy, just dehydrated stew and some hopefully still-crisp crackers he picked up on his last mission. He's been saving them for her, but never found the right time to bring them out.

Jyn watches him move easily around the cramped kitchenette, and considers protesting when he hands her a bowl of soup. She is hungry, though. She was too angry to eat lunch or dinner tonight, and it does smell delicious. He slides a spoon across the table, and drops heavily into the other chair to start on his own bowl. She's finished her meal too quickly, and burned her tongue on the hot liquid.

"What can they do to me? If they're mad that we're friends." Jyn asks quietly, eyes searching his face for any sign of dishonesty.

Cassian just sighs and rubs his hand over his face, ignoring the way his chest seizes at her admission of their friendship. "Honestly, that should be about it." He considers not continuing, but she'll know if he's less than honest. He can't lie to her. Not again. Not even a lie of omission. "They can punish me, not you. Ultimately any responsibility for an inappropriate relationship falls on me because I outrank you."

A horrified expression covers Jyn's face as the news sinks in, and he feels the loss of her wide smile in his bones. "Cassian, I can't..." She falters. "I don't want to get you in trouble." He watches as a look he can't identify steels in her eyes. "I didn't know. I'm sorry. I'll..."

"Jyn." Cassian reaches a hand across the table and closes it firmly around her wrist. "Stop." He waits until she meets his eyes before continuing. "Tell me, who are your friends here? Who do you spend time with, when you're not here?"

"What?" She looks puzzled for a moment, and he thinks she's embarrassed. "I...I've never had any friends." She mumbles the admission, and while not surprising, Cassian feels nothing but sadness for her.

She spent her entire life in hiding, even on Coruscant. There were no children for kilometers on Lah'mu, and she quickly learned that no one lived long enough in Saw Gerrera's Partisans to waste time forming attachments. Those survival skills have followed her into adulthood. Once, she thought she might have a friend in Baze and Chirrut. Maybe even Bodhi. But they're dead, and she's not sure how to proceed from here. Cassian is a constant enigma that she seems to be in orbit around. She's tried to pull herself away, but the force between them is too strong, and the comfort and companionship he offers are too tempting to ignore. It's dangerous, she knows, to get attached like this. He'll leave, and she'll be alone. Just like before. Like always.

Like Baze said, "He has the face of a friend." Jyn is searching that face now as she remembers those words, and Cassian feels small under force of her scrutiny, like he's afraid he won't measure up and pass the test.

"I am your friend." Cassian states it plainly, repeating her assertion from earlier like he doesn't want her to argue with him about it. Jyn wonders if he can read her mind, and he gives her wrist a squeeze. "And the Rebellion will just have to get used to that." The wheels have started turning, though, and Cassian knows that there is no going back now.


A/N:Your reviews are so kind. I'm grateful to every one of you who takes the time to leave an encouraging word. I wrote and rewrote this chapter about six times trying to get it right. It's not quite there, but I don't think I can fix it.

The next chapter might take a while. It's written, but it is more difficult than this one. I've been fixing it for days. Apologies.