** Thank you to everyone who has left reviews/comments! I'm so excited to have you to share this with - I wasn't sure if anyone was still around who still loves these two so it really means so much!
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Maybe it's 'cause I got a little bit older
Maybe it's all that I've been through
I'd like to think it's how you lean on my shoulder
And how I see myself with you
"Fire on Fire" - Sam Smith
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Rick has seen Lisa angry on more than one occasion. He's been the cause for that anger too many times to count… but he's never seen her stunned speechless before.
He lies in the doorway shivering as she stands over him in little else but a pale pink robe that clings to her curves and shows off the smooth lines of her legs. Oh, she's lovely, he has a split second to think before she unleashes on him.
"Rick Hunter! What on earth is wrong with you!?"
He opens his mouth to answer, or at least he tries to but every part of him is so cold he can't seem to make anything work and the only response she gets is the chatter of his teeth. Lisa glares at him then sighs irritably, muttering something under her breath he should probably be relieved he can't hear. She bends down to take his arm, then forcibly hauls him inside into the blessed warmth of her quarters just far enough to be able to close the door behind him.
Then she leaves him on the tiles and steps back, her beautiful green eyes full of uncompromising fire.
Oh, boy.
"L-L-Lisa," he stutters then gives up on trying to speak in favour of climbing uncomfortably to his feet instead. He can't manage to straighten himself completely so he stands half hunched, arms wrapped around himself and quaking from the cold. He's sure he looks rather pathetic in his half-frozen, unkempt state.
He closes his eyes as she rails at him. "You are the most pig-headed, idiotic, stubborn…!"
Lisa bites off her tirade and in the silence, Rick squints open one eye. Lisa is holding herself in check with a visible effort, one hand clenched tightly against her nightgown and her nostrils flaring delicately. Oh, yeah, she's really mad and a small part of him is strangely relieved because at least this is familiar.
He would much rather face her temper than her tears.
"Lisa, I… I needed you to know-" he starts but she cuts him off with an icy glare. It takes everything in him not to hunch down further under the cold fury in her eyes but then it's his turn to be stunned when she steps forward and grasps his arm. He wants to sigh at the warmth of her touch around his chilled bicep, except that her grip is painfully tight.
He finds himself hauled up and propelled along as she marches him through her living room and down the short hall of her quarters. If he was in a different situation, he might have craned his neck to look around curiously having never been any further than her living space and as it is, he catches a tiny glimpse of a stuffed penguin in her bedroom before she stops in front of another door and pushes it open.
"Lisa, wha-"
She leaves him floundering in the doorway as she goes into the small bathroom just long enough to flick on the taps of the shower.
"Get in and get warm before you drop dead of hypothermia," she orders sharply, jabbing a finger at the shower cubicle. The mist is builds behind her as the hot water streams down.
Lisa frowns and points at the cubicle once again when Rick hesitates too long. "Get in."
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbles, a small part of him responding to her commanding tone by rote. He lifts trembling fingers to his shirt and fumbles with the buttons. His hands feel like blocks of ice and he's struggling to make them obey his directions. He looks down at himself and gestures weakly to his clothes, offering Lisa what he hopes is one of his most charming, rueful smiles. "I can't seem to feel my fingers. Are you going to, uh… can you-"
She glowers at him… then promptly slams the door in his face.
Ouch, he thinks as he struggles out of his cold, damp clothes and steps into the spray of hot water. For a few long moments, he only thinks about chasing away the chill from his bones but then he starts to wonder what on earth he had been thinking earlier to show up on Lisa's doorstep in the middle of the night. He remembers the bar, the drinks, Max's voice in his ear and the overwhelming drive to find Lisa, to beg for her forgiveness because all he knows is that he needs her in his life. He couldn't let her be mad at him forever,
In the hazy lighting of the bar with the taste of whiskey on his tongue, it had seemed like a foolproof plan. He'd beg for her forgiveness, he would win her back and then they could carry on much like they had before. But with the water streaming over his head and draping wet locks of hair into his eyes, his only thought is that he hopes he can find a way to thaw Lisa's heart as well as the warm water seems to be defrosting his freezing limbs and wonders if he can.
Nothing worth having is ever easy, little brother.
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Lisa manages to reign in her temper as Rick thaws out in the shower but the hurt comes back as soon as she walks into her kitchenette to put on a pot of tea and she sees the picnic basket and thermos still perched in a corner on the counter.
She had hoped to escape him for a while, to lick her wounds and regroup before she had to face him again but here he was, in her bathroom of all places!
On any other day, she would have secretly rejoiced in the idea of it. But today… today it just makes her already weary heart ache for hopes and dreams too soon put to bed.
She goes about making the tea on autopilot, before realizing that Rick won't have anything to dress in once he leaves the bathroom. His clothes are a damp, soggy mess and there was no way she will let him put them back on no matter how angry she was with him. But she also had nothing else to offer him so she resigns herself to the fact that the rumour mill will go wild and makes a quick call to the requisitions centre on the base. A peculiar look from the Ensign who had handed her the package at the front door a short time later and she had a spare uniform for Rick ready.
"Rick," she calls through the door, before realizing her tone was far too tentative and soft. She calls again, louder this time, sharper. It's been a while now, surely the hot water had long turned cold. She places the neatly folded uniform down. "Rick, there are dry clothes for you on the floor outside the door."
The sound of the water shuts off and she steps back from the door quickly. Without meaning to, a mental image of him naked, draped with nothing but one of her towels on the other side flashes through her mind. She does her best to push it away.
His voice is soft on the other side of the door but she hears it clearly. "Thanks, Lisa."
She hurries away from the bathroom and returns to the kitchen, busying herself once again with the tea. The bathroom door opens after a moment and too late she realizes she's put herself at a distinct disadvantage by not dressing herself.
Now here he was fully garbed in perfectly pressed white and blue while she was in nothing but her nightgown and a simple, silk slip underneath. When he walks into her living room, she feels naked in more ways than one.
He pauses there for a moment, his dark hair wet and slicked back away from his forehead. It makes his blue eyes seem even brighter and for a split second, a wave of longing crashes over her so hard it makes her eyes prick.
She wonders if she will ever be able to harden her heart against him; if she can ever stop herself from loving him.
He watches her silently and for an anxious moment, it feels like he can read her thoughts but then his gaze skitters away and he gestures awkwardly to the couch. "Can I sit?"
Lisa's eyes narrow as she tries to cling to her anger. "I don't recall inviting you in for a night cap, Captain."
The retort might be sharp in tone but it doesn't give her the reaction she was hoping for. Rick doesn't bite, but he doesn't retreat either. Instead he tilts his head slightly and meets her gaze with composure that's borne of all the years he's served and of the equal he's become.
For a split second, Lisa's balance is unsteady. He knows her too well now. She can't hide her heart from him.
"You have two cups and the tea is brewing," he says mildly. "Or are you expecting someone else?"
Lisa lifts her chin, the echo of a challenge in his voice making her rally her defences. "It wouldn't be any business of yours if I was."
For the briefest instant, a stricken expression rolls across his features but he's quick enough to hide it that Lisa wonders if she imagined it.
"Well, then you'd better make it three because I'm not leaving until I say what I have to say."
She opens her mouth to retort, only to find there's not much she can say. Why did she gather up two mugs if she had every intention of kicking him to the curb once he was warmed up like she told herself she was? Why wasn't she marching him right back out her front door now that her duty of care not to let one of the best pilots in the RDF end up with frost bite was complete?
Rick seems to sense the turmoil in her and ventures a step closer, then another. He moves cautiously, as though approaching a wounded animal that may lash out at any moment. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lisa wants to laugh hysterically at that. Wasn't that what she was? Wounded and bleeding because she allowed herself a moment to hope whatever he felt for her could be something… more.
She holds herself rigid, tension tightening across her body the nearer he gets. A portion of her mind screams to move away, to protect herself but she can't make her body move and then suddenly he's there standing in front of her.
The broad expanse of his chest fills her vision but she can't see much behind the dampness that unexpectedly appears in her eyes.
"Lisa," he murmurs and the way he says her name makes her want to sob. The warm touch of his hands on hers startles her but she can't bring herself to pull away. The truth was, she was tired, and not because it was the middle of the night.
She dips her head and stares down at their joined hands. He holds her tenderly, one thumb brushing over the back of her palm. Something flutters against her heart, a warmth and a longing that has her wondering where all her anger went even as she desperately tries to remind herself that he's not hers.
He won't ever be. She just wishes she could find the distance from him to heal and move on but it seemed he wasn't prepared to let her have even that.
"Rick," she whispers, her voice rough with defeat and the pain that grips her heart. "Why are you here?"
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