Archive of Our Own ^beta

Cassian ate slowly– in between suspicious glances towards the group of tables where the pilots usually sat. They seemed cliquier than usual today, all hunched towards each other and sneaking glances behind them like they were being surreptitious.

Jyn didn’t seem to notice, eating her breakfast and chatting with Bodhi as if nothing was different. Cassian was considering the idea that this might be all in his head when one of the pilots stood up and made her way over to their table.

She greeted Bodhi with some weird, complex secret handshake involving multiple fist bumps and maybe a high-five before turning to Jyn. “We’re still on for today, right?"

“Definitely,” said Jyn. “1000 sharp. I’ve got mission prep after.”

Cassian tried not to react to that. Although it was prep for their mission.

“Awesome.” The pilot grinned and fist-bumped Jyn. “I’ll see you there.”

She left, and neither Jyn nor Bodhi commented on it. Cassian stared at them until Jyn looked up. 

“What?”

“What was that all about?”

She shrugged. “I’m sparring Tuck Tyrell this afternoon. I think the pilots are betting on it.”

“Wha– You can’t do that, Jyn.” Besides the fact that it was very, very against the Rebellion rules, the thought of her getting hurt in such a frivolous pursuit made his fist curl tighter around his fork. 

Jyn frowned. “It’s pathfinders training, I can spar with whoever I want." She paused. "Besides, I didn’t ask the pilots to bet on it. If you want to be a hard-ass and pull rank on them, that’s up to you.” Although her tone revealed precisely what she’d think of him if he did that.

“I’m not going to do that,” he said through his teeth. It would be a pointless exercise anyway, because no one would listen and it would probably end up making him look like a pedantic nerfherder. “Just… be careful.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can handle myself.”

“I know,” he said. He wanted to tell her to be careful anyway, because he couldn’t couldn’t stand to see her hurt, and that she should take better care of herself because she deserved it. She deserved a life free of pain and fighting and– he was getting carried away. He ran a hand through his hair and stood up. “Don’t be late for mission prep.” 

Jyn snorted. “Yes, sir.”

Cassian tried to get on with his day, but he couldn’t get past that conversation. The yes, sir bothered him more than anything else. It ate at him all morning, kept repeating in his mind as he tried to concentrate on repairs to his U-wing. 

The third time he dropped the hydrospanner, Kay reached it before him and wouldn’t give it back. “You may have this back when you are ready to focus,” it said. 

“I am focused.”

“There is a 95% chance you are lying.” It cocked its head. “And a 98% chance the cause of your inattention is Jyn Erso.”

Cassian glared. “I’m fine.” He held out his hand for the spanner. 

Kay considered it for a second. “No. You must first fix your emotions concerning Jyn Erso. Otherwise you are only likely to do further damage to this ship.” Then it left, taking with it the hydrospanner and the rest of Cassian’s tools. 

Which left Cassian standing uselessly in the hangar, wondering whatever possessed him to give the droid such a gods-damned personality. 

He left the hangar planning to go back to his quarters, maybe get a head start on the research he and Jyn were supposed to do, but at some point found himself turning towards the training room. 

He was just curious, he told himself. He just wanted to see. 

After a beat of hesitation, he slipped into the training room and into the back of a crowd of mostly pilots and pathfinders, with a few other miscellaneous rebellion personnel. They were all gathered around a mat at the center, a ring marked out in chalk where Jyn and Tyrell were grappling. 

Tyrell easily had 40 kilos on Jyn and it made Cassian anxious to watch, even though he knew– rationally– that Jyn would be okay. (But his stomach still clenched at the thought, what if she wasn’t.) 

He stayed frozen by the wall as the match ended, Jyn impossibly pinning Tyrell to the cheers of everyone surrounding them. (No, not impossibly– of course she won.) He conceded and was allowed to stand, handing Jyn the bandana wrapped around around his head.

Cassian stayed in the background. He more than outranked everyone there, and cringed at the thought of the room falling silent when they noticed him, all the joy falling from their faces when they stopped to see if he would write them up. He waited until nearly everyone had trickled out, laughing and exchanging credits before stepping forward. She was the only one left, pressing a towel to her face and untangling strands of hair that fell out of her bun. If she was surprised to see him, she didn’t show it. She barely glanced up as he approached and tossed the towel into the laundry bin. 

“See? Not hurt.”

Technically, she was lying. There was blood trickling from a cut at the side of her mouth and from what he saw of the fight she would have bruises down her left side and leg. But he knew what she meant, so he said, “I can see that.”

She glanced at the chrono. “I won’t be late to mission prep.”

“I know.”

"Mm." She still hadn’t approached him, and she was standing farther away than he would’ve liked. She wasn’t exactly frowning, but there was a faint line between her brows that said she wanted to. “Then… why are you here?”

It was an excellent question, and one that made him uneasy because he didn’t really have an answer. He did want to see if she was hurt, but that wasn't the only thing… what did Kay say? Fix your emotions concerning Jyn Erso. Whatever that meant. 

“I…” He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair, suddenly flustered. She was staring at him, fixing him where he stood with those sharp eyes, and his thoughts were scattered like snow in a storm on Hoth. 

Jyn clenched her fists and glared properly. “Oh come on, just tell me what’s bothering you and let me leave.”

Cassian looked behind him and noticed he was standing directly between her and the sonics, then realized how this all must look to her. He stepped aside so fast he nearly tripped over himself and tried to correct her. “No, not that’s not what I–” He paused and took a breath. “Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Right. Thanks.” She made to stalk by him, face closed off and shoulders turned away.

Fuck. “You said, ‘Yes, sir.’ At breakfast.” 

She stopped. “What?”

“You said, ‘Yes, sir.’ And I know– I think– you were being sarcastic but– I don’t want you to think of yourself as less than equal to me. Or– if that’s how I treat you, please tell me and I– I promise I don’t mean it.”

She slowly turned to face him. “Seriously?”

He blinked. “…Yes.” Would she rather he was upset over something else?

Her shoulders relaxed and she rolled her eyes. “Force, you’ve been overthinking this.”

“I have?”

Her lips twitched. “As if you have any authority over me.”

Cassian almost laughed at the way she said it– a declaration, as if it was so obvious it didn’t need saying. “Of course not.” 

She finally smiled and he had to look away, before she saw the red creep into his cheeks. His eyes drifted toward her bag, when he remembered something. “Why do you have Tyrell’s bandana?”

Her grin grew wider, almost impish. “Oh, that’s because I won.”

He raised his eyebrows, then noticed that the strap of her bag was covered in bandanas, at least a dozen tied in various places like victory flags. 

Jyn shrugged. “It’s a tradition from some pilot’s home planet. Now everyone just does it.” 

“Jyn… how many times have you done this?” It looked like she’d bested at least a quarter of Echo base.

She shrugged again. “Not sure.” The grin came back when she saw his expression. “Like I said… no authority over me, Captain.” Then she sauntered off to the sonics, allowing her hips to sway just a little bit more than usual.

Despite himself, Cassian watched her in awe, wondering how she made the word captain sound so damn insolent.