[A.N] I know it's been a while, a really long time to be honest, but i really needed this break. Now I am writing again, maybe a little slower than before, but i hope to find my rhythm once again, after the holidays. I want to thank you all for sticking with me for so long and for still reading and giving me feedback. Love you all! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
"Doctor Enoch, there's a message for you," said one of the guards, poking his head through the automatic doors of the med bay and handing her an official looking envelope with the Rebel Alliance crest printed on it.
Cora furrowed her brows in confusion, but took the letter, thanking the messenger. She turned to Doctor Crane once the guard left the med bay. The doctor was sat at his desk, going over some patient files on his data-pad, looking positively bored.
"What is this?" she asked, holding the envelope between two fingers, like it was going to bite her. "Why are they sending me official looking papers? Is this their way of telling me they want me gone?"
Doctor Crane snickered. "I doubt it, your services are still very much needed," he said, throwing her a glance over the data-pad in his hands.
"Is it a death sentence, then?" she continued, ripping open the letter. "Doctor Corinthia Enoch… blah blah blah…" She started reading, her enthusiasm diminishing with every passing second. "We inform you that…" Her face, previously scrunched in confusion suddenly turned into a grimace. "Ok, fuck."
"What does it say?" The doctor took off his reading glasses and put the data-pad down, ready to tackle whatever crisis may arise.
"Well, it says that if I want to keep being assigned to off-world missions in case of emergency I have to pass a combat skill assessment."
"Oh, just that? It's just a routine thing for everyone who, like you, may go into combat from time to time. They just want to check if you still know the basics. I wouldn't worry if I were you," he said, putting his glasses back on.
"I worry," she said, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. "I haven't been thought proper combat training since… hell, since I left the DA team," she said, running her fingers over her chin. "That was like… more than a year ago. Oh, Lord, time flies," she said, with the air of someone who just woke up from a year-long coma.
"You'll do fine!" He dismissed her worries with a vehement wave of hand. "You've had years of training and one never really forgets what they've learned."
"But it's in less than a week," she whined. "And I'm completely out of shape," she said counting on her fingers, "I haven't shot a blaster in months, hell, I've only went to the shooting range twice since I've been here, I haven't been in a battle simulation in more than a year. Besides, I have no idea what is required for such an assessment." She sighed and rested her chin on the edge the desk, fidgeting with a pencil.
"Why don't you ask Captain Andor?"
"How would he know?" she asked, moving her head slightly so she could look at the doctor. Was he in the assessment board? If so, could he be bribed?
"He's been training new recruits for years, he's bound to know."
"Really?"
"Mhm," he mumbled. "Plus, if you're really worried about the test, he could help you with some training sessions."
"I couldn't ask," she said, propping her head into her palm.
"And why not?"
"He's busy."
"How do you know that?"
"He's always busy," she said, and there was a barely noticeable trace of sadness in her voice.
"You won't know until you ask," he said in a friendly, but earnest tone. "Don't be afraid to ask your friends for help, Cora."
She knew he was right, but at the same time, she hated the idea of being a burden. She'd spent so much of her life facing every challenge alone, that asking for help somehow felt weird. But she also knew that isolating herself whenever she had a problem wasn't the way to go.
"I'll ask him about the requirements," she decided. "I'll need some training, but I think I can handle that on my own."
"As you wish," the doctor said from behind the data-pad. "However, you should leave early today," he suggested. "See if you can find Cassian tonight. If he can't help you out, I'm sure he'll be able to at least point you in the right direction."
"Yeah, I think I'll do that," she said, still nervously fidgeting with the pencil.
But despite leaving work early, the sun was already setting when she headed towards the training grounds. Doctor Crane had asked a few people during a break and found out that Cassian was currently tasked with teaching survival techniques in case of forced landings to a bunch of new pilots, and could be found somewhere around the training grounds. So Cora left work a little early, changed out of her medical uniform and into something a little more comfortable, she hoped, gathered all her courage, which wasn't that much, and went to search for Cassian.
She found him near the landing strip, explaining something to a couple of pilots that could have been the new recruits, even though some looked a lot older than Cassian. Cora waited patiently until he dismissed them, before approaching him with a weak smile on her face.
"Good evening, Doctor," he said, smiling back at her with a little more confidence. "What can I do for you?" Professional and direct, as always.
"I received this today," she said, handing him the paper. She had shoved it into her pocket, so now it was a crumpled mess. "Doctor Crane said that you might know what exactly is required during such an assessment."
Cassian took the paper and silently read it. There was a slight frown on his face, like he was concentrating a bit too much on what he was doing, a frown that Cora had noticed didn't usually leave his face when he was working. When they were alone, however, it was a different story.
They didn't spend every night together since he came back to base, after the Samarkand fiasco, but they did, one way or another meet every day. And it wasn't just bumping into each other at the coffee machine, no, he diligently came in for his checkups, but only if she was working that day, and didn't bolt out the door the moment she was done with changing the bandages; he sat with Lewella and her at lunch, especially since Melshi had come back and joined them too; they played Sabacc in their underground bar when some of the others came back, and although Cora lost every game she played, she had too much fun to care; and sometimes, she'd hear a light, but insistent tapping at her door at night.
"Basically," he said, handing her back the paper, "you just show up, shoot in the general direction of the target without injuring anyone and you've passed." He looked at her with a soft smile on his lips. The golden light of the sunset his his face in all the right places, making him glow. For a moment, he looked so surreal that Cora almost forgot to breathe.
"I think you're being a little too optimistic," she laughed, shoving the paper back in her pocket.
"About the assessment, or about you not injuring anyone," he joked.
"Both I guess?" She shrugged. "I haven't had any proper training in months and I doubt Draven's gonna let me off the hook that easily, he's always been against me doing anything."
"Draven's not going to be there," he said, full of confidence. "And besides, combat medics and doctors are too valuable to deny them to work for us."
"Maybe, but they won't let me go off-world if I don't pass," she said, looking away, a wave of shame slowly creeping over her no matter how much she tried telling herself there was nothing to feel ashamed about. Some doctors, like Aidan, dar absolutely no military training or just refused to go into combat, and they still did a great job on base. No one ever judged a doctor for not going into battle, and even though she knew this wasn't part of the deal she'd made with the Alliance, she still felt like it was part of her duty.
"I thought you didn't like confrontation."
"I don't, but… I just wanted to help, you know," she shrugged.
She was still afraid of having to go into battle and of the horrors it brought, she still had nightmares of the things she had seen while working for the Empire, and even worse ones about the things she hadn't seen but imagined. And right now she felt part of the fight, so she wanted to take an active part in it. Now she understood, from the stories others had told her, just how sheltered she had been all her life, and how little she knew about the cruelty of the Empire. And she felt somewhat responsible for being blind to it all. Because no matter how long she denied it, if she had really wanted to know what was going on, she could have just looked out the window. But she didn't, because it was easier to silence her conscience that way.
Over time she had learned the stories of the ones that had willingly joined the Rebellion, and she couldn't pretend to be blind anymore. She had to admit that the Empire was a terrifying place, and once she did so, she couldn't stay passive anymore, she couldn't be an accomplice of the Empire any longer. She had to do something.
"I'll train you," Cassian said. "If you want."
Cora looked at him. He didn't really seem the type of person to offer something just to be polite. But she also knew that he was the type of person that would bend over backwards to help the people he cared for, so she really hoped he had the time for it and she wouldn't be too much of a burden.
"If you're not too busy…" she replied, still a little unsure.
"I have too much time off these days." He smiled, but Cora didn't believe him. He always seemed to be busy with something. "Follow me."
"Now?"
"Why not? The night is young. Do you have anything else planned?"
"No," she had to admit. She had zero social life.
The sun had gone down and the landing strip was becoming darker by the second, the last reminder of the warm, golden light that bathed them a few minutes before was now staining the horizon. There was something a little frightening about nights outside, surrounded by nature. It felt like everything was alive and moving and who could know what those shadows were hiding. But Cora diligently followed him, telling herself that she wasn't in fact scared, just a little apprehensive.
The training grounds extended far into the jungle—exactly how much, Cora didn't know because she had never ventured past the perceived edges of the base. Unknowingly, she'd stayed into the perimeter that had once been dictated by the restraining bracelets. Fortunately, Cassian guided her towards one of the metal warehouses built just at the edge of the rainforest.
"What's your weapon of choice?" he asked, turning on the lights.
Cora blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the sudden shift in light intensity. The warehouse interior was designed to be a small shooting range, complete with moving targets. The whole setup looked familiar, although it wasn't as big and new as the ones she had seen in the Empire.
"Standard," she replied. "E-11. And DLT-19x if needed."
"You were a sniper?"
"Not a good one. But I had steady hands and lots of patience," she said, wiggling her fingers, "so they tried making one out of me. Could also hold my pee for long periods of time. But now it seems my hands are better suited for surgeries."
Cassian smiled and handed her a blaster. "We'll see. Load the blaster and shoot your first target," he said, and his voice sounded authoritative. She kinda liked it.
"Sir! Yes, Sir!" she smiled, and did as she was told.
The weapon felt cold and foreign in her hands, even though its outline was familiar. The process of loading it was done almost automatically, but she had to fiddle a little to get the ammo in its slot. She remembered that a long time ago she could do it in complete darkness, upside down, submerged in water or in the middle of a sandstorm, and it stung a little bit knowing that she had lost that dexterity. But she was no longer a soldier, she had to remind herself. She was still in the military, but she was no longer a soldier.
She hit the target with ease, the gun recoiling slightly in her hand. It wasn't a perfect shot, but it was pretty close. A non-moving target that wasn't that far away wasn't a problem for Cora, even with almost no training.
"Not bad," said Cassian.
"Well, I was part of the training program for three years, they wouldn't have kept me for so long if I was completely crap."
"Why did they let you go then? They could have just denied your transfer."
"I can't handle stress very well, apparently, and they noticed it. Whenever there was a slight chance that I might get shot, well, let's say that I lost all capacity to think…" she said, looking down at the blaster, the black gun feeling heavier in her hand. "I wasn't very good at shooting people either."
"That's the whole job description."
"Wrong career choice. Some people choose journalism, I chose the military."
Cassian snickered and pressed some buttons on a control panel.
"Let's see how good are with moving targets."
"Not great," she said, sighing.
And she wasn't. She hit 12 out of 20, and with the last ones, the ones that moved really fast, she wasn't even close. She sighed and turned to Cassian with a sour look on her face.
"This is why I am telling you that I'm not going to pass the assessment," she said, handing Cassian the blaster.
"You will pass it," he said, pushing the blaster back into her hand. He seemed really convinced of it. "I can help you pass it if you want," he offered. "But you have to realize that if you do, you will have to go into battle sooner or later. Even though you won't be required to be on the front-lines, you never know what you may stumble onto. Until now, both of your off-world missions have been pretty eventful, to say the least."
Cora snorted. "They didn't advertise the job properly."
"It's up to you if you want to keep doing it. You could just do your job here, on base."
"Do I have a choice? With so little personnel, every…"
"You always have a choice," he said, and the look in his eyes became a little darker. "Don't ever blame it on others."
Cora felt a lump forming in her throat. He was right, once again. She had to take responsibility for her own actions. Trying to shift the blame onto someone else did not make you less responsible for your decisions.
"Yeah, I want to do it. I'm not sure I can, though."
"I can help you with that too, up to a point. Get you back into shape," he said with a stern look on his face. "But what you do in the field, that's up to you."
"You make it all sound so ominous," she joked, trying to break the serious atmosphere, not wanting to have to admit that she may never be able to hold her own in an actual fight, no matter how determined she was to try. "You must be fun at parties."
"I'm very fun at parties," he said in the same serious tone, his face not moving any additional muscle, and Cora couldn't help but laugh. She stifled the urge to put the gun down, run her fingers through his hair and kiss him until she lost her breath. "Shall we try this again?" he asked, waking Cora up from her daydreaming.
"Yeah, let's do this." She got into position and waited for Cassian to start the machine.
"Be a little more patient this time. You don't have to shoot them the moment they come into view. Most of them move slowly enough for you to have time to take aim properly," he instructed. "The targets come at random, but they use they same algorithm. Do this enough and you'll see that after a while you'll be able to predict where the next target will show up. Ready? Go!"
Cora tried her best to follow his advice, but she still rushed into shooting the targets as they showed up. After a few more rounds though, she was able to keep her impatience a little more in check, so she hit a few more. With each passing try she was getting more and more used to the strange feeling of having a blaster in her hand once again after so many months of not touching a gun. When Cassian told her to stop, she was able to hit an average of 17 out of 20 targets.
"You did good tonight," he told her as he was putting the blaster back in its place in a metal case.
"Could have been better," she said, massaging her arms. She found out she was more out of shape than she'd previously thought, but it was no surprise. With long, tiring shifts almost every day, she really didn't feel like hitting the gym in her time off. "I used to be able to hit all the targets."
"You'll get used to it," he reassured her, patting her shoulder. "I'm not teaching you anything new, you already know everything I'm telling you. You just need a little time to remember."
"Will I have enough time until the assessment?"
"Forget about the assessment," he said, his hand still heavy on her shoulder. "You don't have to worry about that, I keep telling you. That is just child's play." With a smile he took his hand off her shoulder and went back to putting things away. "But if you want to train anyway, I'll meet you here tomorrow." Cora nodded enthusiastically and Cassian snickered. "When is your next shift?"
"Tomorrow, in the afternoon. Im probably going to be at work past midnight."
"Then I can meet you here in the morning, if it's not too much for you."
"How early?"
"Whenever you want."
"Sunrise?" she asked in a burst of enthusiasm that she instantly regretted.
"Fine by me."
"Really?" She half expected/half hoped he'd politely decline and suggest a more reasonable hour, but it seemed that Cassian wasn't too bothered by it. "Do you ever sleep?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him, but not quite touching.
"As if you didn't know," he said, smiling sheepishly and Cora wanted to just grab his cheeks and kiss him. But she didn't because even though she was pretty sure there was no one around to see it, it wasn't a thing people usually did in public, and she wasn't sure Cassian would be ok with that. Overthinking again.
"I've never actually seen you sleep," she said, leaning into his frame, placing a hand onto his shoulder and watching him place the ammo into another case.
"That's only because you fall asleep first," he smirked. "And speaking of sleeping, you should go to bed as soon as possible. You've had a long day and it's late."
Cora had to cover her mouth to stifle a yawn. "I'll have to go through the mess hall first, I completely forgot to get dinner, and I sort of skipped lunch as well…"
"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, the frown back between his eyebrows.
"I forgot. You'd be surprised how easily stress can suppress your appetite." She shrugged. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure the mess hall's still open at this hour. There's someone bringing food to the night shift, but I'm not sure they make any extra." It wasn't that big of a problem, she was sure she still had some energy bars in her room since she always had some on hand for a quick snack when she was too busy at work, but a normal meal would be nice before going to sleep.
"I know someone we can talk to," Cassian said, guiding her outside and locking the door behind them.
The sky was perfectly clear for once, so Cora could see the myriad of stars once again. It was a beautiful night, some of the usual humidity having lifted, the air feeling unusually crisp and refreshing. Cassian stood next to her, his hands in his pockets, silently admiring the view.
"They look different from down here," she said. "They're just as beautiful nonetheless."
"Yes, they are," he said, still looking at the sky, the content look on his face softening his features. Cora smiled, looking at him, a warm fuzzy feeling taking over.
"Let's go find something to eat before we self-digest," she said starting to walk towards the hangar, hoping he wouldn't notice the blush that had crept over her cheeks.
They walked into the building and guided by Cassian, they found their way into the kitchens through one of the back doors. Cora had never been there, only caught passing glimpses through the swinging doors when they brought the food to the mess hall. It was a fascinating and foreign new territory, since she'd never been to an army kitchen before, or at least, not that she could recall. Truth be told, she hadn't been much in normal kitchens either, since all her life she had eaten canteen food.
The kitchen was spotless and well organized, something she found a bit surprising seeing as everything seemed to be on a different level of chaos on base. There was only one man in the whole kitchen, placing some vegetables into a huge tray.
Cassian approached the large man, and Cora followed closely behind, feeling a little out of place. She smiled as Cassian greeted him and asked if there were any leftover food for them.
"Depends," he replied in a heavy accent that Cora couldn't pinpoint, after looking them up and down for a few moments. "Are you on a date?" The question was followed by a huge smile, baring more teeth than Cora thought possible to be in only one person's mouth. Something told her he wasn't fully human, but she couldn't tell for sure.
"No," Cassian replied, with his usual air of nonchalance. Cora, on the other hand, nearly choked on her own saliva. Did they look like they were on a date? Probably, why else would they be together at that late hour. "Just hungry," Cassian explained.
The cook looked at them once again, then turned back to his tray of vegetables. "Then you'll have to cook for yourselves. Whatever you find in the kitchen is yours to use, but don't make a mess."
"But what if we were on a date?" Cora asked, unable to stop herself, curiosity getting the best of her.
"Same thing," the cook said, throwing her a brief, toothy smile over his shoulder, "but you know, with some lit candles and stuff."
Cora snorted, crossing her arms over her chest and following Cassian with her eyes. He was already looking through the cupboards, and seemed to be feeling quite at home.
What if it were a date, she wondered. She had never been on an actual date before, her lifestyle never allowed it, although she considered their outing on Samarkand a sort of date. It was the start of whatever they had right now. And what they had might not have been much, but to her, it was special. So yeah, a candle lit dinner would have been nice. Was it too late to ask?
"Do you want to make something?" Cassian asked, pointing towards the stove.
"No, I don't know how to cook," she blurted out, feeling her cheeks redden with embarrassment when the only two pairs of eyes in the room fixed on her. "I never had to learn," she mumbled apologetically, hoping she didn't sound too much like an entitled aristocrat.
"Then I'm going to make you one of my special omelettes," Cassian said with a cheeky smile, completely disregarding her confession. Cora let out a sigh of relief, and nodded. "It's probably one of the best you'll have on base."
"Now you're just bragging," the cook said, shoving the huge tray in one of the even bigger ovens. "I know you're trying to impress, but you learned to cook in the slums, and it shows. She ought to have more refined taste." He grinned, and Cora could tell it was just that sort of friendly teasing that happened between manly men, but for a fraction of a second Cora could see a shadow clouding Cassian's features, so she really wanted to kick the cook in the shins.
"If I can survive on canteen food, I can eat anything," she shot back. "My taste buds are already numb, I can't even remember what real food tastes like."
"Ouch! She's mean!" the cook said, smiling broadly, looking like he wasn't in the least bothered by the insult. And even if he was, he kinda deserved it. (Also the food was really bad. She most likely wasn't the first one that told him that.) He fiddled with the oven knobs for a moment before straightening his back, enjoying the cracking sound it made. "I'm gonna go take a shower until these things cook," he said, pointing towards the oven. "Make sure not to burn the place down before I come back."
"It wouldn't be the first time that happened," Cassian mumbled, loud enough for the cook to hear.
"Be careful, kid."
Cora waited until the cook left the kitchen before leaning on the counter next to Cassian, watching him pull out different ingredients from a huge fridge.
"Did you set the kitchen on fire before?" she asked.
"Not me. He did," he smirked, a little devious. "But not this kitchen, it happened on another base."
"And he's still employed? How did he manage to do that?"
"Left the oven unsupervised."
"Should have guessed it," she laughed. "What are you making?" She leaned a little closer, looking at the unfamiliar ingredients. She recognized the potato and eggs, but the rest of the vegetables she couldn't identify.
"Umm, nothing fancy," he said, scratching the back of his head and looking a little embarrassed. She guessed that the comment made earlier by the cook had curbed his enthusiasm a little. "Just something quick."
"Quick and filling are my favourite things," she said, pressing a hand on her stomach, trying to make it stop rumbling. Well, that phrase could be interpreted in more than one way… "Is there anything I can help you with? I've never cooked before, but if you show me what to do, I promise to stitch the ensuing cut fingers myself."
Cassian laughed, and started peeling some of the vegetables. "There isn't much you can help me with," he said, and Cora felt relieved. Although she wanted to help, she really didn't want her lack of skill to be on display. She was sure Cassian wouldn't laugh at her, after all he didn't laugh at her when she was in target practice, but seeing herself fail again today wasn't really needed. So instead she was happy to watch Cassian, who seemed to be just as skilled at peeling potatoes as he was at shooting guns.
Although she could see that being grounded was making him restless, having some time off was doing him good. He had put on a little weight, her professional eye told her. Not too much, he wasn't going to get a beer belly anytime soon, but his cheeks didn't look as sunken in as they did so many times when he came back from his missions. She could feel it when they were sleeping together, his bones didn't seem to be sticking out as much and he felt heavier when he rested on top of her. Also, he seemed to smile a lot more.
When she first met him, so many months ago, she didn't think he ever smiled. He seemed so constipated, Cora was sure he needed to use some emotional laxatives from time to time. But lately he had loosened up, at least behind closed doors or among friends. As far as she knew, he was just as stiff in public as he always was. But now they had moments like this, when the frown was gone and a content expression took its place. Some stubborn strands of hair kept getting into his eyes, so as he was trying to push them away, he was smearing potato juice all over his forehead.
"What?" he asked, and Cora knew he'd caught her staring at him for the past few minutes.
"You're really handsome," she said on a whim, actually speaking her mind instead of trying to find an excuse for blatant ogling.
Cassian laughed, but seemed somewhat taken by surprise, avoiding her gaze and looking at the vegetable in his hand like he'd forgotten what he was supposed to do with it. He was incredibly cute when flustered, losing that serious demeanor that made him look so old sometimes. Although she often forgot it, he was still only a couple of years older than her.
"And also you have some dirt on your forehead," she added, trying to wipe it off with her hand, but the vegetable juice had dried on his skin and was quite persistent. Cora's cheeks had started burning too. They didn't usually say things like this to each other, not when they were out of the the privacy of her bedroom, and even then it seemed like something said only in the heat of the moment. "That, however, does not contradict in any way my previous statement."
Cassian laughed a hearty laugh and went back to peeling the vegetables. He didn't say anything for a while, like he didn't really know how to respond to the sudden compliment, but the tiny smile that kept playing on his lips was more than Cora needed to understand that it was appreciated.
His hands moved very fast, chopping and dicing the ingredients, mixing them with the eggs and finally throwing them into the hot pan. There were so many things Cora wanted to ask him about what he was doing, and the process of cooking looked so exciting and new, that it made her want to try it someday.
"You should teach me how to cook," she said, taking in the delicious aroma that was coming from the sizzling pan.
"I will," he said with the same ease he offered to train her earlier that day. "But not tonight. Tonight you need rest."
"Aye aye, Captain!" she said, standing at attention. "When did you learn to cook?"
"A long time ago," he said, flipping the omelett. "It happened gradually, I guess. I was always the youngest in the team, and so I often got the shitty jobs. Kitchen duty was just one of them."
"Wow, that must have sucked!" She imagined a young Cassian being forced to do the hardest and dirtiest jobs []. What else could have been expected by a gang that let a kid join their ranks and wield a blaster at such a young age. She wondered if he ever got any formal education. Probably not.
"Sometimes it sucked," he said, placing the omelett on two plates and handing her one. The food looked really good, steaming and colorful, so different from the usual mud coloured canteen stews that she had gotten used to. "We could…" he said, looking around the kitchen. "I hoped we could go somewhere else to eat, but we're a little stuck here until Dony comes back."
"I don't mind staying here," she said, placing her plate on a small table that was wedged in a corner, and pulling a stool next to it. Cassian shrugged, and handed her a fork and knife then placed two beer bottles on the table before taking a seat across from her.
"It's probably less fancy than what you've been used to," he said, pointing at the food with the fork. The embarrassed smile from before was back, and he seemed once again to be avoiding her gaze.
"I've eaten canteen food most of my life. No one in my family cooked, they never had the time, so home-cooked food is something new to me." She smiled a sad smile. "Besides, the so-called fine dining is usually over-hyped." Cora's stomach made a rumbling noise so she shoved a forkful of food into her mouth, instantly regretting it the moment the scalding hot substance touched her tongue.
"Be careful, it's hot," he laughed.
"Now you tell me!" she whined, after taking a huge gulp of beer, trying to calm the burning sensation. She took the next bite with a lot more caution, making sure to actually taste it this time. "It's really good!" she said, shoving another forkful into her mouth. It was creamy and flavourful, the different vegetables giving it a pleasant texture. She could identify a type of ham, but the taste was unfamiliar. Overall, it was nothing like the bland, overcooked food that they served in the mess hall. "I could get used to this."
Cassian laughed, and maybe it was the light, but she could swear there was a light blush tinting his cheeks. Maybe it was the beer.
"Well, we could do this more often," he offered, digging into his own omelette. "If you want to. And have the time, of course."
"I will always make time for food," she said, with a little grin on her face. And also for you, she wanted to add, but didn't for fear of not making it sound too cheesy.
"We should take the candles next time," Cassian said, looking down at his food and Cora felt a fuzzy feeling taking over her.
"Yeah, we could. Or we can wait for the oven to catch fire," she joked, trying to hide how flustered she had become in a mere second. So he sort of considered it a date too. That was good to know.
Fortunately, nothing happened to the oven during their meal, so they could eat their food in peace. Cora managed to forget about the assessment and her worries were laid to rest for a while. Only when they left the kitchen, after they cleaned the dishes and woke up the cook—he was sound asleep in a small office down the hall, snoring loudly—Cora realized just how sleepy she was. It was a nice feeling, different from the usual fatigue that was ever present at the end of her shifts. Her whole body was feeling heavy and warm, and she was very eager to take a quick shower and go to bed.
The way to the elevators seemed a lot longer than usual. The base was pretty quiet at this hour, with everyone either sleeping or working the night shifts, so the halls were almost empty. There was an odd silence surrounding them, and Cora could clearly hear herself dragging her feet on the stone floor, but was too tired to do anything about it.
"Thanks for helping me," she said, waiting for her elevator. "And for the food. It was really great."
"My pleasure," he said, leaning on the wall next to her elevator. "Come find me tomorrow, if you want to continue the training. Make sure you eat your breakfast first. And rest. Don't come first thing in the morning."
"Do you think I'll have enough time to train?" she asked, panic once again rising from the depths.
"Yeah. I told you, I'm not training you for the assessment, I'm training you for when you'll actually have to go to battle. You could pass the assessment today if you had to."
She knew that it was meant to calm her nerves, but it had the exact opposite effect, the reminder that she had to actually go into battle one day was giving her the chills. Fortunately, she was too tired to have a full blown panic attack, so she just threw a death glare in Cassian's direction.
"I'm blaming you if I fail the assessment," she said, as the elevator door opened in front of her. "Just so you know."
"I'll keep that in mind." For a moment, he seemed not to know what to do next, so he fidgeted a bit. Cora waited patiently in front of the elevator, not daring to make the first move. She wanted to kiss him, drag him to her room and then promptly fall asleep in his lap, but instead she just smiled timidly. "Good night, Doctor," he said, making up his mind and leaving with a smile.
"Good night, Captain," she smiled back, stepping into the elevator.
She sighed and leaned on the wall, pressing the button with the enthusiasm of moist cardboard. Was it too much to ask for a goodnight kiss? There was a little irony in that thought, because she knew she could have actually asked for a kiss instead of wishing he'd just take a hint, but there was always the fear that maybe he'd reject her. Sure, behind closed doors, hidden from the rest of the world, their relationship was certainly different. But what if that's all he wanted? She wasn't sure if he'd be ok with them eventually coming out as a couple to everyone else. She wasn't sure if he even thought about them as a couple. Right now it was a sort of friends with benefits type relationship, no strings attached, no headaches, no commitment. Unfortunately, Cora knew that sooner or later thay'd have to have "the talk", and the relationship would either move onto the next level, or end completely.
This couldn't go on forever, because every day she was falling for him a little more. She'd gotten so used to seeing him every day, that she was looking forward for their meetings. Even on the shittiest days, he had the power to make her feel a little better. There was something comforting about his presence, the way he smiled at her and the little jokes they shared; the warm embraces and hot, languid kisses they shared when they were alone; the nights when she just couldn't fall asleep so she just nestled closer to him, listening to his heart.
Maybe one day she'd have to give it all up, but for now she was content living in this limbo.