Prompt provided by blaze-edge on tumblr: "Breaking the Rules, Kimball/Carolina"


Carolina's falling asleep at her desk, well on her way to drooling on the latest draft of the New Republic's security org chart (complete with its endless annotations from her counterpart in the Federal Army), when the sound of a cleared throat behind her jolts her back to full awareness. She turns, wincing as the room lurches. She's maybe been missing out on more sleep than she should; even with Epsilon off doing his own thing, the damn nightmares keep intruding, flames at the edge of her awareness every time she closes her eyes.

Vanessa's standing behind her, wearing an old hoodie over her work clothes. Her eyes are a little too wide, like she just downed an entire carafe of coffee. "C'mere," she says, and walks out the door. Carolina stumbles to her feet and follows.

It takes her a few minutes to realize they're walking off-base, and she stumbles to a halt. "Where are we going? I should get a car. You should have a security detail—"

Vanessa shrugs. The feverish light in her eyes is, actually, bordering on alarming. "I have an ex-Freelancer with me. What better security detail is there?"

Carolina squints at her, but she's already nodded crisply and moved on. When Vanessa nods crisply, the conversation's over. Done. No further debate possible. The tides stop in their tracks. So Carolina, sleep-drunk and marginally reassured by the pistol holstered at her side, can do nothing but trail in her wake.

Vanessa takes them out to the hills that border the Armonia River valley, and tosses Carolina her hoodie when her shivering becomes too obvious to ignore. Vanessa seems immune to the cold, anyway; Carolina thinks blearily of flames. The path is wide and reasonably well-lit, but Carolina makes a point to glower at any late-night joggers careless enough to cross their paths. Nobody seems to notice that a notoriously dangerous rebel, recently the target of three separate assassination attempts, is wandering the hills with them.

The borrowed hoodie is still warm with the heat of Vanessa's body. Carolina wonders how one person can produce so much warmth. How one person can possibly have enough left over to share.

When Vanessa stops, Carolina walks into her, then stumbles back. They've ventured a little ways out from the beaten path, into a clearing ringed with the twisted, grasping silhouettes of trees. Carolina scrubs at her face, trying to focus on something beyond the numbness in her limbs. "General," she says, "I think we should—"

Vanessa's teeth flash white in the darkness. "Look up," she says.

Carolina does. The stars are alarmingly bright. As she watches, a brief flicker catches her eye; remembering her training, she keeps that sector of the sky in her peripheral vision, more adept at picking up light in the darkness. She's rewarded with another glimmer, then another. "Meteor shower," she says.

"This was a mistake," Vanessa says. Carolina blinks, glances over to see her pacing, her hands buried in her pockets. She looks cold, but the absurdity of offering her back her hoodie gives Carolina pause. "You've been a good friend," Vanessa continues. She's speaking to the ground, moving mechanically in short, quick strides. She hasn't slept in almost forty-eight hours, Carolina thinks. "More than that. You've been an advisor. A mentor. And I hope I've been some solace to you. I think we're good for each other, Carolina. With each other." She hesitates, then turns. Carolina meets her halfway.

It's a good kiss. Objectively. And when Vanessa's teeth drag against her lower lip, Carolina has to very sternly remind herself that they're off-base, that even a minor incident on base could require one or both of them on a moment's notice, and that their absence will be noted shortly.

So she pulls away, just a little, and laughs when Vanessa immediately buries a hand in her hair and drags her closer again. "Did you really drag me all the way up here for a romantic make-out session?" Carolina asks.

Vanessa laughs, pressing her forehead into Carolina's shoulder for a moment. "It was Palomo's idea," she says.

"Jesus," Carolina says, carding her fingers through Vanessa's hair. "You really do everything by committee." She pauses as the words penetrate. "Palomo?"

"It's been a long week," says Vanessa, a little defensively.

Carolina laughs. "A long two months. C'mere." She pulls the hoodie off her shoulders, draws back long enough to wrap it around Vanessa's. "When we walk back, you let me take care of you for a bit."

"Trade-off, huh?" Vanessa gives a long, satisfied sigh. "I think I can work with that."

Carolina grins, tugs the hood up to cover Vanessa's head—and half her face. "Back to work?"

Vanessa tugs the hood back with a mock glower. "Back to work," she says.

All of a sudden, that prospect's considerably less daunting.