Wherever I'm With You
"I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume you don't have an umbrella either?"
Their taxi pulled up to the curb with a splash, disturbing the river racing toward the storm drain on the corner. The rain was coming down in buckets from an angry, gray sky after threatening as much for most of the ride from the airport. If only it had waited a few minutes longer.
The old, red brick house was a sight for sore eyes after months on the road. The rain, less so, but it was springtime. Salima found herself wishing she'd worn waterproof shoes as she tore her eyes away from the window with a grimace, letting them settle on her companion instead. Ray was a much more appealing sight.
"I have a poncho," she answered apologetically, trying to remember where it even was among her luggage.
She did a lot of backpacking when she traveled and a lightweight poncho she could fold up and stash away for emergencies was more practical, even if Goki always said it made her look like a middle-aged mom at an amusement park. It certainly didn't feel more practical with the rain pelting down on the roof of the cab and 30-odd treacherous stairs left to climb before they reached her apartment in the attic.
Ray's eyes crinkled in the corners, clearly resigned, yet amused, by their predicament. "Oh well," he shrugged. "Wouldn't do us any good against the wind, anyway."
Salima chuckled. Using a handful of Ray's shirt for leverage, she pulled herself closer and whispered, "Do you think he'd circle the block until it stopped if we asked nicely?" She nodded in the direction of the front seat. Her eyes darted down to Ray's lips, making it abundantly clear how she'd prefer to spend their extra time in the cab.
Ray leaned in, gold eyes darkening, and dropped his arm from the back of her seat to circle her waist. "Are we talking about the same driver who grumbled when I touched your knee earlier?" he asked. He was so close that his nose brushed hers, earning himself a smile.
Salima didn't answer, just tilted her head up and sought his lips with hers.
The driver chose that moment to lay on the horn and they both jumped back.
"I ain't got all day!" the cabbie groused, shooting them a look in the rear-view mirror. "Canoodle on yer own time!"
Salima couldn't help but giggle, even as Ray furrowed his brow.
"C'mon." She smoothed the wrinkles out of his shirt and slid to the door on her side before Ray could retort. "We'll make a run for it together – it's better to be miserable in good company."
As if it heard her, the wind picked up and sent raindrops ricocheting in all directions like freezing cold bullets. She could barely see the house through the storm now, even though they were parked right in front of it.
The driver unlocked the doors, ever helpful, and Ray scowled.
"I thought it was 'Misery loves company,'" he commented, zipping up his jacket, but making no moves to exit the vehicle.
"That, too," Salima acknowledged, reaching down to grab her backpack off the floor. She fished around inside for her key and made a noise of triumph when she found it. "I'll pay for the taxi and go up first if you carry the bags?" she asked, shrugging into her backpack.
"Sure," Ray agreed easily and leaned over to kiss her cheek. The flash in his eyes when he pulled back proved he heard the resulting huff from the driver's seat. "Misery obviously doesn't love company," he shot a look at the back of the cab driver's head.
"I'll be out in a second," Salima laughed.
"Wish me luck," he said and forced the cab door open. He was pelted with rain before his feet hit the pavement. The door closed loudly behind him with help from the wind and he rounded the car to fetch their luggage from the trunk.
Salima looked on in sympathy. His seat was wet when she scooted over to pay the cabbie who "don't get paid enough for the things that happen in that back seat". He scoffed when she wished him a good day and shooed her from the vehicle.
Hopping out to join Ray in the torrential downpour was like being spat out the end of a water slide; she was soaked to the skin in seconds and momentarily disoriented. Her hair whipped around her face while she tried to get her bearings. By the time she managed to comb the wet tendrils out of her eyes, Ray was slamming the trunk shut.
"This isn't so bad," he joked, stepping onto the curb. His own hair and clothes were plastered to his skin and he had to shout to be heard over the din.
Salima laughed. "Wait until we start climbing," she cautioned. Through the rain the stairs to the attic weren't currently visible, but there were a lot of them. She brushed a lock of hair out of his face and let her hand linger on his cheek afterwards, relishing in the pleasant warmth his body exuded. "You look half drowned!"
Before Ray could reply, the cab pulled away, spraying them with gutter water. Salima's surprised gasp was lost to the wind. If they weren't soaked before, they certainly were now.
"I hope you didn't tip him well!" Ray grumbled, hoisting their bags over his shoulder.
"Come on!" Salima shouted, blinking the water out of her eyes. "Let's get inside!"
Ray was hot on her heels as she scurried up the gravel path to the stairway at the side of the building. Together they scrambled up the metal steps, slipping and cursing and grasping the railing desperately. More than once Salima pictured meeting an untimely end by being blown off or falling through the gaps between each step. The stairs wrapped around the back of the house and she sighed with relief when they both made it to the tiny landing that housed a single weather-worn chair.
She fumbled with the keys for a few precious seconds before managing to unlock the door. They stumbled in as one tangled mess of people and bags, eager to be out of the elements. Immediately upon crossing the threshold and forcing the door shut, the sounds of the storm lessened.
The apartment was pleasantly warm and Salima shivered at the sudden temperature change. Turning to Ray, she motioned to the suitcases in his hands. "You can drop those anywhere," she told him, turning on a nearby lamp to illuminate the room.
Ray obliged and set their luggage down inside the door before stepping further inside.
Her apartment was really a small attic fixed up enough to be a livable space. Originally it was all one room, but a tiny bathroom had been added when it was remodeled – the placement of it turned the layout into a 'U' shape and gave the illusion of separation between areas.
The ceilings slanted on either side with the line of the roof, but Salima wasn't particularly tall so it was never too much of a hassle. She thought it made the space cozy.
She watched Ray look around curiously, seeing her home for the first time. His expression was hard to read and it made a weird kind of anxiety bubble up inside her.
There was a reason she'd been halfway dreading this moment when she even allowed herself to think about it. She didn't have a picture-perfect home to show off. All she had was what she'd managed to scrape together over the years while picking up the pieces of a lifetime of disquiet. But it was hers, and that mattered more than anything else.
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.
They were standing in what could be considered her living room currently, both of them dripping onto the rug. The furniture was a hodgepodge of things she'd acquired and things that had already been in the attic when it was renovated.
Her 'bedroom' was straight ahead, the smell of cut flowers and freshly laundered sheets proving that her landlady had prepared the room for her return. Mrs. Prescott lived downstairs and was one of the first adults in Salima's life she knew she could count on; nowadays she was a friend as well as a grandmotherly figure.
If they walked forward and turned left around the corner, they'd be able to see the kitchen on the other side of the bathroom, as well as the door to the house below. Salima tried not to go in and out that way when she could help it. It felt like an invasion of her landlady's privacy and there was no staircase, just a ladder that wasn't worth the struggle with her duffel bag.
In hindsight, it might have been worth the struggle today. A flash of lightning shot across the sky, quickly followed by the crack of thunder, making her jump.
Ray saw her out of the corner of his eye and turned toward her. Reaching out, he untangled her hands from where she'd been unknowingly wringing them together and gave them a squeeze.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched in his expression.
Salima nodded unconvincingly and tugged her hands from his grip. She dropped her backpack onto the couch so she could peel off her jacket. Anything to keep her hands busy so they'd quit shaking.
"There's nothing worse than wet denim," she joked, hanging the offending article of clothing on the coat rack.
Her humor fell flat, but Ray didn't press the issue. Instead, he followed her lead and hung his coat with hers. He toed off his shoes with a grimace and Salima used his shoulder to steady herself while she did the same. She kicked their shoes to the side, deciding she'd deal with the gutter grime they were soaked with tomorrow.
"Salima?"
Ray rested a steady hand on her waist and her frayed nerves began to knit themselves back together. She didn't fight the feeling and pressed into his touch, letting herself focus on that instead of the hundreds of thoughts running through her mind.
"Yeah?"
"Can I help with anything?"
She knew he was leaving his question purposefully vague and she loved him for it.
"If you want to turn on some lights, I'll put the kettle on for tea," she said, rising up onto her tiptoes to steal a quick kiss that he happily reciprocated. "Other than that, make yourself at home. There's towels in the cabinet and dry clothes in the dresser if you want something quick to change into. The guys leave things here all the time."
"Deal," he said, kissing her right in the center of her forehead before letting her go.
Salima thanked him and went to dig her ancient kettle out of the kitchen cupboard. She filled it and set it to boil, sneaking glances at Ray every once in a while as he flitted around turning on lights. He looked like he belonged already, right at home in the corner of the world she'd carved out for herself.
She watched as he examined various souvenirs and photographs from her travels before coming to a stop beside her. His hand settled low on her back, warm and comforting. She curled her toes into the rug under her feet.
As good as it felt to be home, it felt better to share another adventure with him.
"This place is nice," he said, eyes trailing over her postcard collection that lined the counter. "It reminds me of you."
"Drafty?" she asked playfully, raising both eyebrows. She turned her head to look up at him, feeling her world right itself on its axis.
He felt it too – she could tell by the look on his face.
Ray laughed softly and shook his head. He scooped her up effortlessly, ignoring her surprised squeal, and set her on the meager stretch of counter top. She had to lean forward to keep from hitting her head on the roof, but neither of them minded the proximity.
"Inviting and full of stories," he corrected, studying her with renewed intensity.
She squirmed, both from the chill of the laminate counter beneath her and anticipation as the look on his face turned passionate the longer it lingered. Behind her, she could hear the rain pounding against the skylight, a pleasant background noise.
Before she could piece together a response, his arms circled her middle, dragging her to the very edge of the counter. There was some resistance from her wet clothing, but she was sufficiently distracted by the sight of his own soaked t-shirt clinging to him, so she hardly noticed.
Ray didn't go in for a kiss like she expected, instead pulling her forward until her body was flush against his. Reflexively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and then her arms around his neck, urging him impossibly closer. He rested his head on her chest, making her heart flutter.
"Oh, Ray," she cooed, stroking his hair. She pressed her lips to the top of his head, inhaling the wild scent of rainwater and the outdoors – it made her head spin in the best way.
She wanted this forever.
A shiver worked its way up her spine and he tightened his hold. Salima tried focusing on the warmth of his body against hers, but there was something about this chill she couldn't shake. She shivered again when the wind rattled the skylight behind her.
Maybe forever wasn't plausible.
"You need to warm up," Ray observed sympathetically, coaxing her off the counter and fully into the snug bracket of his arms. "Your fingers are like icicles."
She hadn't noticed, but they had gone numb raking through Ray's hair.
Ray took a step back and the air flowing back into the space between them felt colder than it had any right to. She wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered.
"Maybe changing should have been higher on my list of priorities," she admitted wryly.
Ray smiled. "I'll keep an eye on the tea so you can grab a shower," he offered, rubbing his hands up and down over her arms to generate some warmth. "Don't want you to catch a cold."
His forehead came to rest on hers and his eyes were so bright that she shivered for an entirely different reason. Maybe they should share a shower. Ray was always warmer than she was – between him, the hot water, and the sight of it sluicing off his body, she'd warm up in no time. She probably would have extended the invitation if unpacking and all the rigmarole that came with it wasn't still hanging over their heads. Shame.
"I'll be quick," she promised instead and sidestepped her way out of his arms.
"I'll be waiting," Ray promised with a grin.
He watched her smile back and disappear into the bathroom, letting out a breath as the door snapped shut behind her. He was glad that the uncharacteristic tension from earlier was gone, but he couldn't help wondering what had caused it in the first place. He had a feeling it had a more complex origin than the storm that had washed them in.
With a quick glance at the stove to make sure the kettle wouldn't boil as soon as he walked away, he went to get changed.
As he struggled out of his wet clothing, his thoughts found their way back to Salima.
He'd learned early on that she was a much more complicated person than she appeared to be on the surface. Though she was approachable and kind to everyone she met, there was an invisible line that she didn't let many people cross.
Ray considered it a privilege to be one of her trusted few, even if some of the secrets she'd whispered to him in hostel beds or under a blanket of stars had made his heart ache. Those were the nights where he would roll over and kiss her until that faraway look on her face was replaced with something more present.
He'd ask her about it. Any number of things could have caused her mood earlier, even something as simple as jet lag, and he wouldn't fault her for a single one.
He didn't need a shirt, he decided as he stepped into a pair of worn sweatpants that must have been Goki's for how low they hung on his hips; the humidity from the rain ensured Salima's apartment was plenty warm. With deft fingers, he unwrapped his hair and toweled it off. When it was no longer dripping wet, he braided it back.
When he was finished, he scanned the room for something else to occupy his time until she was done.
Salima's apartment was decorated with an eclectic mix of souvenirs from her travels, various equipment, and mismatched furniture. Somehow, despite the chaotic mix of colors and patterns, it managed to feel cohesive. He was sure she had a story to go with each trinket and he had the sudden urge to spend a day asking her about every single one. Maybe they could plan their next trip that way.
It really did remind him of her – a collection of pieces that shouldn't have gone so well together, but managed to create a captivating picture nonetheless.
After a time, his eyes settled on her backpack. It was still on the couch where she'd discarded it earlier. On their travels, she kept the things she needed readily available or constantly on her person inside, and there was one item in particular that he wanted to be sure wasn't waterlogged.
He sat down on the couch, sinking into the soft, floral-printed cushions, and pulled her backpack towards him.
He found her camera bag nestled right at the top. Salima's camera was the most expensive item she traveled with, used to document her adventures long before Ray began joining her, and he knew she'd be gutted if anything happened to it. Thankfully, when he opened the bag and examined its contents, everything was dry and in one piece.
After that it seemed silly not to check on her passport, wallet, and the rest of it. One thing led to another, and he ended up sitting on the floor beside her dresser unpacking their bags and sorting through the laundry from their latest trip abroad. It made the time pass quickly and, before he knew it, he heard the bathroom door open.
Glancing up, he caught sight of Salima in the mirror. She was bundled up in a cozy-looking robe, and any visible skin was flushed pink from the heat of the shower. He hoped she was as toasty as she looked. He was kind of tempted to sneak his hands inside her robe to feel for himself and hold her close if she wasn't. Maybe even if she was.
As he watched, she stopped short to take in the sight of his naked torso, eyes trailing unabashedly over his back. She blushed harder when their eyes met in the mirror and she saw him staring back. He smirked.
"You look a little glassy-eyed, Salima," he teased, stretching in a way he knew made the muscles in his back flex and shooting her a grin. "Are you sure you didn't catch a cold?"
She chuckled and shook her head at him.
"You're incorrigible." Instead of taking the bait and joining him on the floor, she sat on the bed, still within his reach. "You didn't have to start unpacking," she said, beckoning for him to come closer by patting the side of the mattress.
Catching her meaning, he scooted over so he was situated between her knees with his back against the bed, the laundry forgotten for the time being. He let his head recline on the mattress and watched her lean in. He hummed when she kissed his forehead, his world momentarily nothing more than a curtain of long, red hair.
"I don't mind," he answered truthfully, capturing one of her hands and giving it a squeeze. "Wanted to check on your camera anyway."
Her lips tilted upwards in a wide smile.
"That was sweet of you," she murmured, using her free hand to comb his bangs back out of his face.
The feeling of her fingernails grazing against his scalp made Ray's eyes slide shut with a moan. Any reply he planned on making was lost. He could easily fall asleep with her hands in his hair and the silky-smooth skin of her legs framing his rib cage. In the back of his mind he registered that she was, indeed, pleasantly warm. He ran his thumb over her hand in appreciation.
They stayed that way for a while with their hands intertwined and her fingers in his hair. As much as Ray loved traveling the globe with Salima and seeing something new every day, he sometimes treasured their down time even more. The silences that stretched between them seldom felt out of place. They lived life in the same rhythm, more often in sync than out of it, and the quiet was filled with comfortable understanding.
In those rare moments when they weren't on the same page, everything seemed slightly unbalanced until they cleared the air.
"Salima?" he mumbled, opening his eyes.
"Hmm?" she hummed with a tilt of her head to indicate she was listening. Her fingers skimmed along his hairline, light enough to be ticklish.
"Can I ask you something?"
As if on cue, the kettle started whistling.
"Hold that thought," Salima said apologetically. "That thing's a relic and I think it enjoys inconveniencing me." She gave his hand a squeeze before slipping away.
After a brief interlude of clinking mugs and soft humming, Salima returned balancing two cups of tea on a serving tray. Gently, she set it down on the bench at the foot of her bed. She climbed back onto the mattress, tucking her knees beneath her and Ray relocated to sit cross-legged in front of her without a second thought.
There were a lot of evenings spent like this on their trips; recounting their day over refreshments, trading stories, and existing as each other's sole point of familiarity among all the newness. Sometimes Salima would have a notebook, jotting down things she wanted to touch on in her blog as they cropped up. Or she'd bring her laptop and have him help reply to comments on her latest post.
Tonight she was armed with only her mug. She cradled it in two hands and took a sip, eyeing him curiously all the while.
Ray plucked his own mug off of the tray and took a drink.
"Well?" Salima asked.
He smirked. "One day I'll take you to White Tiger Hills and teach you how to brew a proper cup of tea."
She laughed and it made her dark eyes shine bright like the night sky.
Ray grinned at her and took another drink, enjoying the earthy flavor of the rooibos, despite his teasing. Salima had a knack for making any tea taste delicious no matter how she brewed it, but he wouldn't deny the possibility of his feelings for her clouding his judgment.
"I'd like that," Salima said, shooting him a fond smile back through the steam rising from her cup. "Seeing where you grew up. It always sounds so beautiful when you talk about it."
Thinking of the lush green forests and mountain rivers, he knew Salima would be in her element. But then, she was a chameleon – in her element just about anywhere. Even here, in the attic of an old house, wrapped in a threadbare robe drinking tea while it lashed rain outside. It was different in almost every way from White Tiger Hills.
"It's one of my favorite places to be," he said and took another sip from his mug.
He got the feeling that bringing Salima back with him would make his old stomping grounds feel more like home than they'd felt in a long time. Ray was a wanderer by nature, but he needed to return home once in a while to replenish his spirit. He didn't get that urge as often traveling with Salima, content to be with her wherever she was.
"I'm sure Lee and the others would tell you all my embarrassing childhood stories," he continued, not voicing the heavier thoughts just yet.
"I'd be disappointed if they didn't," Salima chuckled, shifting her position so she could get her legs out from underneath her and taking care not to spill her drink.
"Trust me, they won't miss the opportunity," he replied, holding one hand out to hover near her waist, ready to steady her if need-be. When she was settled with both feet flat on the mattress so she could rest her mug on her bent knees, so close to him that his knee was under the peak of hers, he continued. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything," she replied with a grin. "We shouldn't have any more interruptions."
Ray rolled his mug between his hands, formulating his question before speaking. "Earlier, when we first got here, was something bothering you?" he asked, giving voice to his sneaking suspicion. "You seemed a little uneasy."
Her head tilted as she took pause to consider his question, tapping her fingertips against her mug.
"I was nervous," she admitted, after a time, "but not because of anything you did, so please don't think that." She took one last long drink, before leaning over to deposit her mug back on the tray. "You're the only person, other than the guys, who I've brought here. It meant a lot to me that you liked it."
"It's a part of you – I was always gonna love it," Ray said, placing his mug down next to hers to give her his undivided attention.
Salima smiled and laced her fingers through his. She squeezed his hand and leaned into her knees, so close to him that he could count her eyelashes. The darkness and rain from the storm effectively shut out the world around them, and the familiar feeling that he was about to be drawn deeper into her confidence set in.
"When I first moved in here, I didn't realize how beneficial it would be to have a soft place to land. I didn't…" She paused to take a deep breath, offering him a wan smile when he kissed her knuckles. "I didn't ever have that."
Ray nodded, indicating that she didn't need to elaborate. They'd touched on that subject before on another gloomy night, somewhere in Europe. Her life hadn't been a walk in the park, even before the whole fiasco with the cyber bitbeasts.
"I made it a point to come back as often as I could, or I'd start to feel like I was being swept away."
"Like losing your grip on yourself," he interjected, because he knew the feeling all too well.
"Exactly!" She clutched his hand like a lifeline. "And this last trip with you was the longest I've spent away from home in years."
"You could have said something," Ray said, tucking a few stray locks of red hair behind her ear with his free hand. "I didn't mean to keep you away."
"Oh, no!" Salima exclaimed. "You didn't keep me away. You sort of just, became my soft place instead." The flush that had faded from her cheeks after her shower reappeared. "We've been all over, but it never really felt like being away from home when we were together."
Ray's heart was beating fast and he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. Hearing his thoughts come out of her mouth nearly verbatim brought his affection for her flooding to the surface. Leave it to Salima to boldly put all his most cumbersome feelings into words. Even on the day they'd met she'd showcased that talent. He'd probably been a little in love with her ever since.
"I feel the same way," he said, in awe of how she hung onto his every word with rapt attention. They were on the same frequency and it felt like electricity under his skin. "When life got confusing, it was always comforting to know I had White Tiger Hills to go home to. But now when I think about going back, I can't imagine not taking you with me."
"I'd go anywhere with you, Ray." Her hand came to rest on his thigh with her words.
Ray exhaled. Unable to hold back any longer, he pressed a kiss to her temple. Her hair was damp and smelled like lavender. He moved closer and kissed her cheek, then her jaw. She let out the sweetest sigh when he got to her neck, and tipped her head back for him.
With a gentle shift of his weight, they tumbled onto the bed, one after the other.
"Having you here made me realize how special this place is," Salima whispered breathlessly, arching against him and making no effort to pull her hand away from where he had it pinned to the mattress. Her other hand was behind him, tracing patterns onto his back with her nails and covering him with goosebumps. "But now I know that I'd be okay without it as long as I have you."
He kissed her for that and she tasted just as sweet as her words.
"Lucky for both of us, I'm not going anywhere."
He was home, after all.
A/N: I'll admit this was entirely self-indulgent and I don't regret it one bit. Ray/Salima was actually my first Beyblade ship and I have a lot of feelings and headcanons for them. There's something about that instant connection and understanding they had in V-Force that just makes me happy. The way they communicate so openly with each other, too. They're like those once-in-a-lifetime friends you meet who you can talk to about anything and completely jibe with. It's always gratifying to know someone else feels the way you do or has values that align so flawlessly with your own, and Ray and Salima are that in couple form.
So yeah, I had a good time writing this one.
Thank you for reading! :)