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I do what it takes to make this right
But we got to stop before the regret
"Armor" - Landon Austin
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It's the middle of the night when Lisa is woken by an unexpected tap against her bedroom window. She wonders briefly if it could be an intruder trying to gain entry but crime has been all but non-existent during the reconstruction efforts so that thought is quickly discarded. She lies still and strains her ears, listening hard for the sound to repeat. It does, and then there's a new sound that accompanies it - a muffled call of her name.
She sits up slowly, not entirely sure that her ears aren't playing tricks on her but then she hears it again. She recognizes the voice and she's not sure what to feel.
She's still so numb after spending the better part of her evening crying in her bathroom.
Her name is called out once again, louder this time and the taps against the glass gets more insistent. She spares half a thought for her neighbours, hoping that they won't be woken up by noise when the voice calling her name gets brasher. She doesn't want to have to explain this, why there is a dark haired man rattling her bedroom window in the middle of the night. She can only imagine the kind of lurid conclusions they would draw and her face heats at the implications. Wearily, she pushes aside her sheets and swings her feet to the rug. It's cool in her quarters without her blankets so she reaches for her robe and slips it around her shoulders.
Her feet make no sound as she pads across the floor. She doesn't open her window, but stands beside it to keep out of sight. She doesn't want to him to see her, not mussed with sleep and with eyes puffy as she is. She doesn't want him to know how deep she was allowing herself to wallow.
He calls out again and her traitorous heart pangs at the familiar flow of his voice.
"Lisa," he calls out in what she guesses is supposed to be a hushed whisper, but is infinitely too loud. She thinks again about her neighbours and dreads the lights coming on in the pre-fab unit next door. "Lisa, please. Please talk to me. Lisa?"
She wants to ignore him, but she knows how stubborn he can be. For days she's kept her distance but it hasn't been easy. Every time she would hear a message or receive a note from him, her resolve would waver.
But then she remembers what he did.
"Lisa!"
His voice is louder this time and Lisa can't ignore him any more. She tugs aside the curtain and peers out. Her heart flips inside her chest. "Rick," she hisses through the glass. "What on Earth are you doing out there?"
Even in the low light from the street lamp that washes his features silver, Lisa can see the way his eyes light up when he registers her voice.
"Lisa." He presses his face to her window and desperate relief colours his tone. "Oh, good, you are home. Please, Lisa, I need to talk to you."
"Are you insane? It's the middle of the night!"
There's a scuffle and Rick's face disappears from the window for a moment before he returns. His expression turns lost and unsure. "Is it?"
She studies him through the glass, noticing then that his hair is even more dishevelled than usual he's dressed in civilian clothes. She recognizes the shirt, a deep green she had agonized over buying for him just this Christmas past. She remembers the way it had made his eyes take on the colour of the sea when he had held it up and smiled at her, thanking her for the gift.
She frowns at the memory just as another one skitters past her thoughts, of something he had mentioned to her before their failed date about one of the Skull just recently engaged.
He must have been out celebrating with them.
She exhales sharply, wondering if the sharp wave of hurt whenever she thinks about him will ever fade. Here she was heartbroken over his two timing, crying herself to sleep and there he was off gallivanting around with his squad and painting the town red.
"Yes it is, Rick," she snaps, the hurt and anger once again rising up to the fore. Lisa hugs it close, barricading her heart behind it to keep him at bay. "And I have no desire to talk to you right now. Especially not when you have clearly been drinking!"
There's a pause, a small groan and his voice changes, turning low and mournful. "Aw, come on Lisa. Please let me come in."
The softness that blends with his words catches her by surprise. Once again, her resolve wavers and she has to take a moment to gather her strength around her. If only she could shut off her feelings for this man. But embarrassment of their failed date, the hurt and humiliation still burned deep.
Rick may want to talk to her, but really, what was there to say?
"Go home, Rick," she calls out, relieved that her voice comes out clear and strong when she feels anything but. "There's nothing I want to say to you."
There's a heartbeat of silence on the other side, then a thud that startles her. Rick is suddenly pressed close to her window once again. He starts to plead.
"You've been ignoring me for days. Come on, Lisa, how much long are you going to stay mad at me? Please let me in-"
"I don't want to talk to you, Rick."
"Lisa, you've got this all wrong. Please, Lisa. Let me in. I'll explain everything!"
"You told me all I needed to know that day in the park. Go home, Rick."
"No! That's… uh, no, that's not what I-"
He cuts himself off and then the silence on the other side is longer this time. So long she wonders if perhaps he decided to follow instructions and go home after all. She tells herself she should be relieved, but instead her chest just aches with a sense of loss.
Don't be ridiculous, she says to herself sharply. You never had him in the first place.
She turns to go back to bed, but then a loud, confident knock comes from her front door. She grits her teeth in frustration. Of course Rick wouldn't listen. When does he ever listen?
She tries to gather up the rage from a few days ago, donning it like armour and hoping that the sting of it will smother any weakness. Already she finds herself wishing she could open the door and let him in – not just to her quarters, but to her life, and her heart.
But haven't they done this dance already? And hadn't it already ended with her once again all alone and sidelined?
She pads out to the living space and calls out firmly through the front door. "I'm going back to bed now, Rick. I suggest you do us both a favour and do the same."
"I'm not leaving," comes his response. There's an edge to it now. Lisa can almost picture the stubborn tilt to his chin as he speaks. That same petulant challenge he'd fling at her over the com back in the early days of their acquaintance. "Not until you hear what I have to say!"
The anger comes a bit easier now.
"I have no interest in whatever you have to say. I've already made that clear. Go home, Captain Hunter."
There's a low thump against her door, as though maybe he's kicked it in frustration. Then his voice carries through even louder than before. "Oh, so you're pulling rank on me again? That's what you always do when things get uncomfortable. Well, I'm not leaving until you talk to me."
Lisa's brows snap together angrily and her temper flares white hot after simmering all this time. "Fine," she shouts from the other side. "If that's how you want to play it, then you can stay out there all night and freeze to death for all I care!"
She spins on her heel and goes back to her bedroom, a righteous fury boiling inside her chest all the while. If he thinks he can just show up here in the middle of the night after everything he's done and demand that I hear him out then he has another thing coming! The sheets snap as she straightens them, then she flips off her lamp and plunges her bedroom in to darkness.
For a moment, all is quiet. She listens to the sounds of the night wondering if he's still there then convinces herself he couldn't possibly be. She wants to sleep, but instead her mind replays their interactions from the last few weeks in bright, technicolour dreams. She had honestly felt they had reached a turning point, that maybe Rick had moved past his infatuation with Miss Macross and was ready to take a chance on something real. She had certainly felt it when they had sat together, albeit somewhat awkwardly, on his couch sipping at the tea she had brought that one rainy night. They had talked, cleared the air between them, maturely said their apologies and eventually reached a kind of warm understanding. She remembered thinking that night that if she had Rick's friendship, then maybe she could be content with that.
And she might have been, were it not for the promise of something more when he asked her on a date. But then he chosen Minmei again and Lisa understood then that perhaps Rick hadn't really grown up at all.
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Rick huddles on the front step of Lisa's quarters. It was just as cold as it had been in the small garden next to her bedroom window but now the liquid courage of the alcohol from earlier was starting to wear off and the chill was starting to set in.
He didn't know what else to do but beg her to let him speak, to explain, to apologize…. Again. He only knew that he wasn't ready to give up on having Lisa in his life, not after having spent an evening with Bobby and Max and listening to them wax lyrical about the women in their lives. He wasn't sure what the future would bring, but he knew he that he wanted Lisa to be a part of it – far beyond simply being his superior officer and issuing him commands over the tac net.
He wanted more.
Rick closes his eyes as the air around him chills him further. His clothes are starting to feel damp now and he regrets his rush to hail a cab and leaving his coat behind in the bar. It proves to be another bad decision in a flurry of bad decisions lately and without meaning to, his thoughts once again drift back to the day it all changed.
From the moment he had de-planed after his side trip to Monument City, Rick had bolted to Lisa's quarters only to discover them silent and empty. He found a vid-phone and called everyone he could think of looking for her, valiantly trying to wade through the waves of disapproval flowing down the phone line before realizing with an ever increasing sense of dread that she was still at the café, still waiting for him, even though it had been hours.
He could barely get his words out when he had finally found her, stuttering something out between gasping breaths about the uprising in Monument and what felt like a thousand apologies. He had been so sure she would take him to task for wasting her day but instead she had linked their arms, smiled up at him with those green eyes soft with an affection he wasn't sure he deserved and suggested a walk. He'd been so relieved he had been spared her wrath that he didn't think twice to drape the scarf Minmei had given him around her shoulders.
If only he could go back, he could have done everything differently.
He conjures up her face behind her eyes as his teeth start to chatter from the cold. His favourite memory of her after he had finally found her in the hallway of the command centre and they had finalized their plans for their date. He wasn't sure what it was about her that day that seemed so different, maybe it was the warmth in her gaze she was usually so careful to hide but she had glanced at him over her shoulder as she walked away and her smile had almost made his heart stop.
How had he not realized until that moment how truly wonderful she was? So strong and brave but with a capacity for such sweetness underneath her sharp edges. And just when he thought he had her figured out, she would surprise him with something new.
A bit like now, he thinks dejectedly. He honestly hadn't anticipated that she wouldn't let him in. She must really be mad.
Can you blame her? His big brother's voice laughs suddenly in his mind.
Rick scowls to himself and hunches down, wedging himself as tightly as he could against the door. The snow was falling harder now and soon he would be forced to either suffer hypothermia, or admit defeat and crawl home with his tail between his legs.
Neither prospect was particularly inviting.
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Back in her bedroom, Lisa lies in her bed and stares up at the empty ceiling wishing for sleep.
It frustrates her that Rick might still be outside her door and she worries about him if he is. Rick wasn't dressed for snow weather, she could see as much with his plain button up shirt through the window. Where was his coat, she wonders before scoffing to herself and trying to harden her heart. He probably left it at whatever bar they were drinking at, she tells herself savagely. Off having the time of his life like he didn't just rip out her heart a few days ago.
She waits for the sting of pain those thoughts should bring but they're muted under the concern that's slowly creeping forward. At best, he could catch a chill. At worse, he might lose his fingers and toes and then what good would he be to the service?
For the second time that night, she taps on her lamp and pushes aside her sheets. She doesn't believe for a moment he's still out there, but her conscience won't let her rest. She resolves to check that her front stoop is bare then go back to bed. Maybe then she can sleep without fear of something like guilt gnawing on her insides.
Not that she had anything to feel guilty about.
She pulls her robe tighter around herself as she opens the door-
Only to be greeted with a very cold and very damp Captain Hunter tumbling sideways onto her feet.
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