LEVI'S POV
I tried to block out Burrell's stream of suggestions that were getting increasingly more colorful as I made my way down the stairs. She is flat out drunk, I reasoned as I forced my grip on her legs and waist to relax after another tempting murmur, I will not be accused of unwanted advances on a subordinate.
Even if everyone was well aware of Burrell's hobbies, if someone were to come down at some point and happen upon us we would both be discharged. It was against the code of conduct for a superior to show any sort of favoritism towards a subordinate. I had known that when I had decided the best place for her would be in my quarters. With most of the squad on a mission, I hadn't deemed it as a threat. With Erwin back, the idea of having Burrell anywhere further than where I could see her made me uneasy, but after my actions during the expedition, he would be looking for any sort of leverage to force me to comply.
I knew the safest place for her would be far away from me, but I couldn't leave her to some other man. I would just have to sit here tonight and keep an eye on Burrell. I would have to ignore the way she moved against me and pressed her lips against my skin. I let out a terse breath as she lavished my neck with another kiss. The damn brat was making this difficult.
"Why so quiet, Captain?" Burrell murmured against my neck hotly before accentuating it with a playful nip to my ear lobe.
She giggled as I tensed and jerked away to frown at her. She was well aware of how much I hated her touching my ears, she'd just wanted my attention. Now that Burrell had it, she nibbled on the edge of her bottom lip and gave me a grin as she trailed her nails along my scalp. The cheeky brat.
I kicked open the door to the cell furthest from the stairs and dumped her on the cot inside before turning on my heel and leaving. I locked the door as she sat blinking at me on the cot.
She was on her feet a moment after, scowling at me through the bars and waving the half empty bottle of liquor in my direction,"Not exactly what I had in mind, Captain."
I sat heavily in a wooden chair outside the cell, leaning on the rear legs until the back hit the wall. I pulled out a knife and began twirling it on my thumb. When her complaints became more insistent I closed my eyes, focusing on the balance and worn wood of the hilt as it rotated, clicking every so often against my nail.
"You owe me a bottle of cognac." I wasn't sure exactly why I said it, but Burrell immediately quieted down when I did.
She considered it for a moment before firing off hotly, "Oh is that what it was? Okay, fine I'll get you another bottle of your fancy schmancy liquor. Mister fancy pants with your fancy liquor and your weird cravet-crevit-scarf thing!"
I sighed and sent the knife spinning again, careful to keep my eyes closed. My self control was hanging by a thread and I wasn't going to give her a chance to break it. "It's a cravat."
"It's a bib!"
I stiffened and was clenching my teeth with such force that my teeth squeaked and a muscle along my jaw jumped, but I still kept my eyes closed. I let out a long breath before I sent the knife spinning again.
After a moment of silence there was the sound of Burrell shuffling around before she settled on the cot and tried again, "Hey, Captain?"
"What is it now, Burrell?"
". . .Do I really havta stay here all night?" Her words were slurred and quiet, like the murmur of a child sent to bed without dinner. Without even opening my eyes I could see her folded up on the cot, the downward tilt of her chin pulling her hair forward into her eyes.
I sighed, "If I let you out you'll just go after the next thing with a penis."
"But . . . I don wanna be alone, I remember things. And bein with you is. . . dangerous."
My knife fell to the ground with a clatter. I stared at her for a moment as what she'd said repeated in my mind. Was she afraid of me? I sat forward and when that wasn't even enough, I stood and stepped toward her. Burrell looked away, like she finally realized she didn't want my undivided attention, and picked at the frayed rubber at the bottom of a boot.
"What?"
She glanced up uncertainly before ducking and cocking her head as she pulled her hair over her shoulder, running her fingers through the haphazard mess of curls, "Sometimes you look at me like Jerome. It's dangerous."
The air stilled around her whisper. What the hell does that mean? I look at her like her dead husband? What the hell?
Burrell's face contorted after a beat and she turned away with a grimace. I looked at my knife where it laid discarded on the ground and I told myself I would pick it up, sit back down, and wait for her to fall asleep. Instead, I picked it up and found myself locking the cell door behind me.
She spun on me, her eyes darting around like a cornered animal before her face settled into a shaky smirk.
"Do you piss everyone off this much or is it just men?" I asked before Burrell shot off some comment to get a rise out of me.
Her face fell, her eyebrows pulling together in frustration and a blush rushing up along her neck to color her cheeks as she sputtered, "I-I don't mean that!"
Then what do you mean?
Something told me that neither of us were ready for the answer to that question. I took the bottle from where she'd put it on the bed and chased down my question with a few gulps. I didn't wince as it burned through me but ran my tongue along the inside of my teeth to test the residual silken heat of it in my mouth.
". . . Yeah. You're probably right, brat." I murmured as I settled on the cot beside her, leaning my head back against the stone wall.
Leaving the comment about her dead husband aside, being with me was definitely dangerous. With our wounds just a few day short of being completely healed and the alcohol tinting the air around us, there was no doubt that something was going to happen. With nothing but the moon and stars to accompany us, we were going to be doing something dangerous.
Knowing all of that, I still couldn't make myself leave. I didn't have it in me to even want to leave her. Not like this, not when she looked like she was just one thread short of unraveling. It had taken more self control than I was comfortable admitting to not pull her tight against my chest when she had seen the mere handful of soldiers file in past the gate. Her skin had paled and suddenly all of her bravado, all of her swagger and smirks and armor had been ripped away to reveal that she was just as broken as any of the rest of us.
The debriefing had done nothing to alleviate her crestfallen state, if anything it had worsened it. Despite that, I didn't regret keeping what I knew from her. Eyebrows had opted to keep so much information from them. Seeing how what little he had revealed had pushed her so far, I'm not sure how she would have reacted if she had known what was actually going on.
She had tried so hard to get the information out of me, too. My lips quirked slightly at the thought of her trying to seduce it out of me. The cheeky brat. She was always playing with the boundaries, testing just how far she could push me before I pushed back.
After I took another long swig from the bottle, I turned my head to find Burrell watching me, her full lips parted and skin flushed. She slowly reached over and took the bottle from me, watching me for a moment before she tipped it back and dank with an intensity that made me thirsty. Her tongue darted out to sweep along her bottom lip, leaving the soft pink skin wet and shining. I swallowed hard, my mind swept clean by her movements. She worried her lip between teeth for a moment and my breath stuttered. The ghost of the thought of self control was the only thing that kept me from capturing her gently worn lip between my teeth.
Burrell handed me the bottle, panting slightly, and gave me a shallow smile, "Guess it's a thing I gotta good for danger."
I held onto the bottle dumbly for a moment before trying to shake off the alcohol induced rose tint to the air. I waited for her to correct herself, but she didn't. My hair fell haphazardly across my forehead, tickling my eyelashes, but I didn't bother to brush it back. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a series of guzzling mouthfuls from the bottle, recognizing too late that the contents were not meant to be chugged. I winced, coughing slightly as my head spun and the cell began to mimic the action. I blinked the tears from my eyes and held out a hand to keep Burrell at bay when she rocked toward me, though I couldn't remember why I was trying to keep her back.
Once the spinning had subsided I opened my eyes to find the vixen thumbing the rolled cuff of my sleeve. When I frowned at her she merely smiled in return and pressed a kiss against my tense jaw. My arm bobbed in the air between us for a moment before falling to my side. With the barrier gone, Burrell rose up on her knees and leaned forward, brushing her lips against mine. My muscles ached with the strain required to keep myself from pushing my fingers into her skin and pulling her against me. I closed my eyes and let out a shaking breath, overly aware of her moving to put her knees against the outside of my hips to settle in my lap.
When I opened my eyes again I couldn't remember if the room had become hazy because of her or the liquor. Burrell leaned forward again but this time I put my hands against her arms and shook my head slightly. I couldn't remember why I had decided to exercise restraint, perhaps I wanted to test exactly how much I could take before I started ripping her clothes from her. If that was the reason, then she and I were both fools. My self control was sorely lacking. If she pushed a little harder, if she purred one more time, I would push her into the thin mattress without a second thought.
She didn't push back, though. She stopped without me having to actually force her back and I deflated slightly at her lack of persistence, my head dropping.
Greedy bastard, I thought disdainfully.
Her shoulders slumped and I tilted my head, glancing up from the tangle of limbs on my lap. Burrell shifted and I hissed slightly as her thighs tightened around my hips, pushing the juncture of her legs flush against my stomach. I tried not to think about how different the situation would be if we didn't have clothing separating us.
I failed.
Burrell looked up at me through her eyelashes, her green eyes bright with desperation and desire, like she needed this more that air-like she needed me.
"Please?" She whispered.
I kissed her.
A/N: Hello my lovelies! Sorry I haven't put anything up in a long time, I've had a lot of trouble with this part. I've rewritten it at least three times now and I like this version the best (think it goes fits the best with the characters) but I feel like it still needs a lot of work and I just keep going around and around in circles. In the end, I decided I was happy enough with this and would just move on. So, I hope you enjoyed it!
P.S. To those of you who tried to read it when I first posted, I am so sorry! the Doc manager has NEVER done that to me before and I had absolutely no idea that it was a complete and total MESS. I have it fixed for you now, though!