Hiya friends! Another Arrow-esque rendition of Tobias and Tris, taking place in the same universe as Next to Me, In Sickness and in Sneezes, etc.
This actually takes place a few weeks/months after Come to Me, My Sweetest Friend, so check that out if you haven't already!
Also, if you are a lover of Arrow and Olicity, I have this fic but with different characters/details on AO3. Let me know what you think.
Hope you are all staying healthy and safe during this time!
"Tris, I'm not saying you don't look good in glasses," Emmeline stresses for the fourth time as Aubrey flops forward on the countertop in exasperation. "I'm just saying that it wouldn't kill you to pop in your contacts from time to time and -,"
BANG!
Tris jumps, her eyes snapping around her apartment trying to locate the source of the sound. It's terrifying, she thinks, that her first few guesses include gun shots and rogue soldiers, but the fact that those options only send a light shiver down her spine is what really snaps the sentiment that her life is so not normal into perspective.
The alarm bells in her head only last a second, though, because soon enough Emmeline is continuing her lecture with an upturned nose and pursed lips.
Tris sighs, managing to squelch the laugh she feels bubbling up when she sees the huge eye roll Natalie Prior throws her way.
Natalie's eye roll turns far too comical when she sticks her tongue out and drags a finger across her throat and –
BANG!
The sound of slamming wood rings through the kitchen again, this time quieter, and Tris and Natalie share a look before the younger blonde turns towards the sound.
"Tris - ,"
Natalie, Aubrey, and Emmeline move to follow Tris, but she waves off her mother's warning, already tiptoeing towards the living room with a wonky spatula half raised in defense.
Her heart nearly stops when she rams straight into a steady wall, her nose scrunching against the hard surface. It does stop, though, totally and completely, when she looks up and it's Tobias fracking Eaton staring down at her with a nervous grin and crinkled eyes.
His hair is laying the wrong way, his nose is blushed red from the swirl of wind that has picked up as autumn rolls in, and there's a small smear of mud highlighting his left cheekbone that makes Tris suspect that her small potted daisies on her window sill are no more.
It's that last thought that has Tris driving her brightly painted finger into Tobias's chest.
"Did you just dive through my window?"
"I did not dive, okay, I was in a rush - ,"
"Did you just fracking throw your body. A body that is not small, by the way," Tris hisses, all emphatic fury and complete bewilderment, "Through my poor, teeny, tiny living room window? Again?"
"I did not jump through your window, Tris - ,"
"Tobias - ,"
"I gracefully entered through it," Tobias reasons matter-of-factly.
"Oh, I'll show you graceful - ,"
"Was I going a bit faster than I should have been?" Tobias continues casually, an amused lilt in his voice as his shoulders pull up into a small shrug. "Sure."
Tris's glaring at him with much more aggression than one would generally deem normal for someone so tiny, and Tobias pauses slightly, tilting his head in contemplation before pressing his lips together tightly.
He takes in a measured breath before schooling his features.
Cool as a cucumber, Tris would say.
Except he's not.
He's not as cool as a cucumber.
He's a plant destroyer and a window squeezer through-er and a heart rate picker upper and Tris knows that that's so not cool, but he's also still got some mud on his jaw and a blush across his cheeks and the way he's looking at her makes her feel like pure sunlight.
Tris can see the way the right side of his mouth quirks up a bit – can see the slight arch to Tobias's eyebrow as his eyes dart from her to the window and back again almost sheepishly. His tells are quick, fleeting - imperceptible, really. Anybody else would have missed it.
But Tris's been around Tobias and his dumbass bullshitery long enough to know exactly what the next few words out of his mouth will be.
"Okay, yeah. I also may have tripped over the flow-,"
Tobias's eyes widen as Tris whips the spatula in her hand against his shoulder with remarkable speed.
"Aye!" he yelps, more surprised than anything. The space between Tobias's eyebrows crinkles as his mouth tugs in a small frown, and the accusatory look he gives her almost has her smiling. But then he rubs at his shoulder as if her attack had actually hurt and she's crossing her arms tightly over her chest and arching her own damn eyebrow.
Tobias has enough sense to look a bit reprimanded, but it's entirely too short lived as he steadily plants his own feet and matches Tris's glare.
Tris huffs haughtily, glancing unthinkingly towards her cousins with a "can you believe the audacity of this man" look stamped onto her face before turning around and nailing Tobias's other shoulder with her makeshift weapon.
Tobias lets out a surprised noise, opening his mouth to protest, but Tris's quicker to the punch and she steps forward, right up into his personal space, and jabs her finger into his stomach.
The action hurts her finger a lot more than it hurts him because hello, abs of steel, but it's the way he looks so unaffected by her onslaught – so measured and calm and almost amused by the way she shakes out the sharp sting in her hand – that has her raising her spatula to swat at him again.
Tobias raises up his arms in defense, trying earnestly to snatch the kitchen utensil from Tris's hand. "Hey, hey I said I may have - ,"
"Those. Were. My. Victory. Flowers!" Tris snaps, a sharp whack punctuating each word, her face flushed and eyes vibrant.
Tobias smiles then, really smiles – teeth and dimples and all – as he recalls Tris's smugness just the day before when she had danced into the office chattering on and on about her green thumb and nurturing heart and forget technology genius, I'm Mother-Freaking-Nature.
"Victory flowers," Tobias deadpans, his eyebrow arching sharply as he stares down at the blonde. His eyes drop lower for a split second, and when they snap back up to meet hers, there's a certain fondness to his gaze that startles her.
Tris stills instantly, eyes going wide as she realizes that she's dressed in pajamas.
She can feel her ears turning red as she glances down at the dancing pandas that decorate her favorite pair of pajama pants– she can feel the flush that runs down her neck and chest as realizes that while she could care less about Emmeline's snooty opinion about her choice in leisurewear, she cares a whole lot about the opinion of a certain billionaire CEO turned soldier.
Tris's too busy staring down in horror at the cartoon sloths that decorate her socks to notice the gentle smile that pulls onto Tobias's lips, but the women standing quietly in the entryway see it just fine.
Tris's stunning – her cousins both know that, despite how much Emmeline likes to claim the beauty guru status in the family. Hell, Natalie Prior is damn proud of how smart and talented and gorgeous her Tris is. She's got beauty and brains – a lot of brains – and, yeah, there are dancing mammals on her pants and the tank top she's wearing right now doesn't exactly leave much to the imagination, but so what.
The large man that stands before Tris glances from her sloth socks to her dancing panda pants to the mortified expression that paints Tris's face and the only thing Natalie Prior can see in his eyes is adoration so soft and innocent that it takes her breath away.
Tris's eyes snap up towards Tobias, daring him to say something, but he just folds his arms across his chest and flashes her a brilliant smile, his head tilting in that half-amused way he seems to only do when he's around her.
Tris finds her own lips battling between pulling into a scowl or a smile.
"Tris," Tobias draws out slowly, his voice low and steady as he rocks slightly forward on his toes. "We both know that those flowers weren't making it past the end of this week."
Tris's eyebrows furrow dangerously.
Scowl it is then.
She advances forward quickly, oblivious to her small audience, and prods the spatula into Tobias's chest. She's threatening a tanked credit score and promising to sell his phone number to the press and those flowers were growing perfectly, Tobias, you big dumb caveman, I have a front door for a reason!
Tris shoves her spatula against him and Tobias takes an exaggerated step back, as if thrown off balance by her actions, even though the both of them know that Tobias's only ever off balance if he chooses to be.
And it's that movement – the dramatic step back and the way his eyebrows shoot up comically in mock surprise – that lets Tris know exactly what kind of mood Tobias is in.
She tilts her head to the side, trying to mask the sudden wave of fondness and affection that floods through her body as she takes in the man in front of her. Instead, she gives him a pointed glare and pokes him sharply again, testing her theory.
"Hey" Tobias slaps away the offending kitchen utensil, maneuvering his hand around and poking at her side with ease.
Playful Tobias, Tris thinks in awe. Lighthearted, pink nosed, flower-pot breaking Tobias.
"Think of it this way," Tobias starts, and Tris instantly knows that whatever monologue she thought had been playing inside of her head was anything but internal. "It's not going matter if the pots are broken if the flowers were going to die anyway - ,"
Tobias's words break off into a delighted laugh as Tris surges forward, forgoing the spatula for her fists.
She's not mad – can't be – not when Tobias is finally laughing for the first time in months. She wants to ask what had him clambering in through her window on an early Saturday morning – wants to ask about why he's still wearing the same clothes from yesterday and looks like he spent the night on the cot at Dauntless Defense HQ instead of an actual bed.
She doesn't though, not yet. Because each tiny insult that falls from Tris's mouth pulls another glorious sound from Tobias's chest and she thinks she'd be perfectly fine spending the rest of her life right here in this moment.
Somehow Tobias manages to maneuver the spatula out of Tris's hand, and the laughter that falls from her lips lights the whole damn room.
"Tobias, I swear to God - ,"
"Uh, Tris?"
Both Tobias and Tris freeze at Emmeline's words.
Tris spins around quickly, eyes wide with shock.
Tobias straightens beside her, and when Tris turns to glance at him, she's stunned to see the small upturn of his lips instead of the hesitant expression she had expected to find.
He doesn't look shocked at all about the Prior girls' presence. Tris lets out a small laugh. Of course he knew they had been there the whole time. You can take the man out of the war zone , but…
"Hello Tobias," Natalie says softly, the warmth in her tone echoing a memory from not too long ago – a memory of bullet holes and Thanksgiving turkey and nightmares and a mother's love.
"Hi Natalie," Tobias says, his voice low and just as warm. "It's good to see you again."
Tris tilts her head up in question at Tobias, her lips mouthing 'again?' in confusion. Emmeline looks just as confused as Tris and a tad jealous too, but Tobias just shakes his head with that same small smile.
Natalie beams. She steps forward and grabs at his arm, pulling him towards the kitchen, and Tobias lets himself be dragged along willingly.
"You're joining us for breakfast," she says as they walk away.
Tris stares at her cousins blankly. Emmeline's face is twisted in a mix of disbelief and envy and it's Aubrey's bark of laughter that pulls them both out of their stupors.
"I fucking told you Tris had Tobias Eaton in her bedroom on Thanksgiving, Emmeline," Aubrey snorts. She turns towards the kitchen to see Tobias chatting amiably with Natalie as he pulls out the ingredients for French toast and she laughs again. "And now he's making us breakfast. Fucking score."
Aubrey reaches forward and links her arms with Tris's before marching them both into the kitchen.
Tobias looks up from whatever he's mixing then, his eyes finding Tris's almost immediately, and even though the two of them have absolutely no idea what it is that is going on between them, the way he smiles at her lets her know that there's something.
So they all make breakfast and tell jokes and trade embarrassing stories and argue over what music to play and what constitutes the perfect piece of French toast. Natalie giggles when Tris ends up covered in flour, Emmeline makes her famous cheesy eggs, Aubrey proves to be a fairly competent and extremely mouthy Sous Chef and Tobias learns what it means to be surrounded by people that love him again.
There's constant chatter and spilt syrup and way too many pieces of French toast and when Tris sneaks a glance over at Tobias, he's already looking at her with an expression so intense that it levels her whole world.
Their lives are loud and hectic and complete pandemonium – life and death and joy and sorrow.
But this?
This is tiny windows and broken flowerpots and stolen glances.
This is warmth and comfort and light and love and -,
"Hey Tobias? I'm – I'm really glad you're here."
Tobias smiles at Tris, his throat too tight to say much. He covers her hand with his and steps close, his lips pressing lightly into her hair.
"Me too," he whispers. "Me too."
This is home.
Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think!