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Kei should have known she was in trouble after the mission to free Yuri’s childhood romance – a mission that sucks, unequivocally, because what Yuri is actually asking Kei to do is participate in the destruction of the troubleshooting duo known as the Lovely Angels – almost gets her killed. Which isn’t in itself that unusual – Kei has almost been killed way more times than she is strictly comfortable thinking about – but what makes this one different is the way it happens. The way that she, knowing that Yuri’s old boyfriend is dead and gone, can’t bring herself to say so. Instead she urges Yuri to get to the ship and get out of there, because that’s their only ticket out – but only if someone stays behind to keep the facility guards busy. What’s worse is that it’s a situation they’re only in because Kei saw Yuri’s face crumple when the Chief told her there would be no rescue mission unless someone was willing to pay for it and couldn’t bear to let the injustice stand. Yuri deserved a shot a happiness, is what Kei thought as she forked over 100,000 credits of hard-won savings without a second thought, and now that her storybook romance is doomed, Kei figures getting Yuri out of here alive is probably as good of an apology as any.
She casts her gaze back at the ship, which is still under fire from a few holdouts that she sends a few shots at to keep them from causing any damage and thinks, I don’t want Yuri to die, which is a perfectly reasonable thing to think about someone you work with and consider a friend. The second thing she thinks is I am willing to die to make sure Yuri gets out of here, which is a hell of a thing to think about someone – Kei has never had any real lust for self-sacrifice, preferring to opt for survival at any and all costs and collateral damage, and has left Yuri in any number of situations which might be classified as perilous before this point. So why is it, Kei thinks as she leans against the collapsed ruins of a sentry tower and takes a deep breath, readying herself for the inevitable, that she’s willing to die here and now if it means Yuri will get a chance to learn the truth about her old (extremely dead!) boyfriend?
Which is a question she is only able to answer when suddenly, Yuri shows up with a spare jetpack and a joking “I couldn’t leave a klutz like you on your own,” which is a very Yuri thing to say. Looking up at her rescuer, Kei suddenly thinks I love her, which is a hell of a lot more terrifying than the idea of facing down a bunch of pissed-off mobsters with guns, which is what she and Yuri proceed to do.
Kei strongly suspects that Yuri knew what she, Kei was doing by sending her away – and probably figured out that her boyfriend is not currently among the living to boot – but neither of them mention it. Yuri’s a little mad about the fact they aren’t getting paid, but when Kei explodes that well I did this for you, she seems a little surprised and maybe even touched. They make it out of the situation alive – like always, the two of them together are capable of overcoming damn near any obstacle the universe can throw at them – and Kei takes the revelation she had on the top of that wall and buries it as deep as she can. The Lovely Angels, Kei thinks, have come close enough to splitting up once, far be it from her to risk a second time. She’ll get over this, it’s just a crush, it won’t last.
Weeks later, leaning against the door leading into their shared bedroom and trying to compose herself, Kei realizes she’s a fucking idiot. It’s never been an issue before, but when she walks into the room while Yuri is getting a massage the sight of her bare back (and maybe the groan of pleasure Yuri gives as a particularly tight muscle loosens up under the robot masseur’s ministrations) suddenly has her heart going a million miles an hour.
“What the hell, Yuri,” she shouts, “put on some clothes!”
Yuri looks at Kei like she’s grown an extra head. “Don’t be ridiculous, a proper massage requires bare skin and you know it!”
Kei doesn’t have a good comeback to this (it’s true, as far as she knows), so she settles for running away with a “Well tell me next time you’re gonna be naked, at least,” slamming the door on the way out. The fact that Yuri has historically slept naked goes uncommented upon, and Kei doesn’t even realize how fucking stupid she sounded until later. Yuri does not mention this incident again, although Kei thinks she spots Yuri giving her an odd look once or twice. There is nothing else for it but to step up her game of denial if there’s going to be any hope of making it out of this alive, so Kei takes the logical course of action and sets up as many dates as she can with as many partners as she can to both convince Yuri (and herself) that there’s nothing going on here, nothing at all.
It works out pretty well. Kei has an extensive list of paramours, and she sets to work with enthusiasm. It keeps her occupied, it keeps her out of Yuri’s hair (who makes a few snide comments about Kei’s promiscuousness, but seems to otherwise consider Kei’s excursions to be more or less normal), it – perhaps most importantly – takes her mind off of the idea of being fucked by and/or fucking Yuri, mostly because she is busy being fucked (or trying to be fucked, anyway) by whoever she’s called up that day. Yuri does not stop sleeping naked, but she does take to wrapping herself up in a sheet when she gets up, and Kei is both thankful and a little disappointed by the action – oh, and also extremely paranoid that this means Yuri has started to suspect some things about Kei which cannot and will not be spoken aloud by either of them, ever.
Then things get busy at 3WA – the sort of busy that means Kei and Yuri are spending a lot of time cooped up on the Lovely Angel flying from place to place, which is a large enough ship, sure, but Kei’s starting to find it feels awfully fucking small. Especially because after consciously spending less time around Yuri, she’s noticing all this shit about her that she never noticed before. Shit like – okay, so apparently, Yuri looks good in basically anything? Kei never really thought about this before, or if she did she was keeping it buried so deep nobody would ever be able to prove it, but apparently this is absolutely true. Yuri is incapable of looking bad – put her in any kind of dress and she will be stunning as all hell, the sort of beauty that if Kei’s not careful is going to result in extremely unwise actions. Not only that, but Yuri’s nose wrinkles when she laughs and it might be one of the cutest goddamn things Kei’s ever seen? Who the fuck thought that was fair, huh?
Oh and don’t get Kei started on Yuri’s ability to systematically beat the shit out of anyone who fucks with her, or the way she looks when she’s in the middle of saving Kei’s ass, or the way that she sings along to the radio and dances and it’s like all the nerves in Kei’s body light up and her brain begins supplying unhelpful thoughts like I want to kiss her so goddamn bad, she makes me want to run through a brick wall, I want her to throw me down the stairs and not apologize (Kei isn’t sure where this one actually came from, she was feeling particularly on edge that day). If things go on like this much longer, Kei’s not sure what will happen, but she is sure it won’t be good, because Yuri’s going to figure out that something’s up sooner or later, if she hasn’t already.
“The Chief’s really been running us ragged lately,” Yuri complains as the two fly off from one successful mission (only two buildings destroyed, which is almost a personal best).
“It’s the computer, not the Chief,” Kei corrects, although privately she wonders how much that’s actually true. “Maybe Brian’s still mad about us destroying him that one time and this is revenge.”
“Computers don’t take revenge,” Yuri replies, then, with a note of uncertainty, “do they?”
“I don’t know,” the redhead admits, “but it sure fuckin’ feels like it.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Yuri says then, and grins at Kei in a way that makes her traitorous heart skip a beat and her stomach do a flip, “that should get us some much-needed vacation time.”
It’s easy to forget sometimes, because Yuri is generally the more soft-spoken of the two (if either of them can be said to be soft-spoken at all), that she does share Kei’s penchant for getting into and out of trouble, and also that she’s often the one coming up with ways to get more money and vacation time out of their boss. This is, Yuri would claim if asked, because she’s the smarter of the two – but Kei thinks that IQs are bullshit, and Yuri is also bullshit, albeit bullshit that she, that is, Kei, wants desperately to fuck senseless and then spend the rest of her life with.
Kei realizes she hasn’t responded to Yuri yet, and with a guilty start replies, “I'm all ears, partner.”
One faux-panicked chat with their boss later and the two have three weeks of vacation, combined with a fat bonus. Kei immediately gets to work setting up more dates, except this time around it seems like the long hours have taken their toll – everyone has either moved on from her, or made other plans. In truth, Kei isn’t really sure she can blame them for doing so – it’s not like she was doing more than using them as a way to keep her mind off of Yuri, after all – but she’s a little offended anyway.
“No luck, huh partner,” Yuri asks, a little mockingly.
“Hey, I don’t see your paramours lining up either,” Kei shoots back.
“That’s only because I haven’t called him yet,” Yuri replies, and calls whoever it is she’s been spending time with recently. Kei tries to ignore the jolt of jealousy that shoots through her when she hears Yuri greet her paramour, then feels guilty about the jolt of satisfaction she gets when it turns out Yuri’s paramour is just as sick of being cancelled on as all of Kei’s partners. The guilty feeling increases when she sees how crestfallen Yuri looks (well, shortly before she slams the phone down and makes some snide comment about wasting her time on him).
“Guess it’s just us,” Kei says brightly, trying to cheer up her friend (just her friend, obviously). Then, maybe overstepping the bounds of her own personal safety, she makes a suggestion that might doom her. “Wanna grab dinner somewhere, maybe catch a movie?”
For maybe the first time ever, an expression flickers across Yuri’s face that Kei doesn’t recognize before she answers. “Sounds fun,” she says, and smiles wide and bright enough that Kei forgets why this is a bad idea. “I’ve got a new dress I wanted to wear out anyway.”
This isn’t a date, you don’t need to get dressed up, is what Kei wants to say, honest, but instead she says “Guess I’ll have to dress up a bit too then, huh?”
There’s something in Yuri’s eyes that makes her heart squeeze and honestly, this is a terrible fucking idea but it’s too late now. “You’d better look your best if you’re taking me out,” she says with just enough of a teasing tone to make Kei think she’s probably not being serious. Probably. Probably?
When the fuck did it become probably instead of definitely, huh?
Kei is pretty sure she’s going to die before the night is out, although as far as ways to die go this one might be okay. Yuri’s wearing a black dress which some might call daring and others (Kei, specifically) call criminally attractive. Kei herself has opted for a red suit that she pairs with a mostly buttoned-up dress shirt and a loosely-worn tie. She’d picked it up on a whim one day, figuring that it might impress the one boyfriend who liked his women to look “like they could turn me to dust if they wanted to.”
“Wow,” Kei says before her brain can send the necessary alert to shut the fuck up, “you look… wow.”
Yuri laughs and, because the universe is out to ensure Kei never knows a moment’s peace again, apparently, blushes. “Thanks,” she says, then smiles and looks at Kei in a way that makes her pulse rate spike, “You don’t look too bad yourself, partner.”
Which more or less is the only reason, Kei thinks, why her brain fails to stop her from doing the next stupid thing, which is offer her arm to Yuri. Fortunately, she at least has the presence of mind to waggle her eyebrows when she does so and ask, “Well then, shall we hit the town,” in a tone of voice that she means to sound joking except that her voice shakes a bit too much to carry it off.
Yuri still takes the offered arm, though.
They blow a decent chunk of their bonus money on dinner at one of the best restaurants on the planet – it might be the best meal Kei’s ever had, but having Yuri along might be tipping the scales there. Yuri orders a bottle of some fancy wine, and they fall into easy conversation about the last couple of jobs they pulled and how fucking dumb all the people who could have agreed to go out with them and didn’t are.
“I mean,” Yuri says, waving demonstratively, “just look at me! Who wouldn’t want to take me out, huh?”
I sure as hell want to, Kei thinks, but this time her brain actually does its job and keeps her from saying so out loud. Instead she simply says, “I know, right? They should be lining up around the block for me, but noooo, just because I have a job it’s too much trouble. Honestly,” she says, “I think maybe our line of work’s just no good for finding a good partner.”
Something sparkles in Yuri’s eyes – mischief, maybe – and she takes a sip of her wine. “I’ve already got a good partner, Kei,” she says, and has the fucking audacity to wink at her, “don’t I?”
“Y-you know what I mean, damn it,” Kei splutters, feeling her entire body shift its color to match her suit.
Yuri throws her head back and laughs, and Kei traces a line from her mouth down the slope of her neck to where it meets her shoulder and feels the urge to bite, or lick, or kiss, or some combination of all three. Instead she takes another drink of her wine and shakes her head as Yuri, oblivious (Kei hopes) calms down and says, “I do, I really do,” and then breaks down into another fit of laughter. Kei laughs too, relieved that her secret is still safe.
“So what movie are we seeing,” Yuri asks as the two make their way to the theater.
“There’s a new action flick,” Kei replies, shrugging, “you know, the one about the mercenary crew? I don’t remember the name but it looks cool.”
“Oh, and the lead’s such a hunk,” Yuri says, eyes lighting up. “He looks so suave in that suit of his, too. I love a guy in a suit and tie, you know?”
Kei, very conscious of her current outfit in this moment, rolls her eyes. “Just a suit isn’t enough, but he does do some really cool martial arts in the trailer, so I agree he looks good.”
As they take their seats in the darkened theater, Yuri lets go of Kei’s arm, and Kei has the sudden realization that Yuri’s been hanging on to her arm since they left the restaurant. Somehow, with how aware and in her own head she’s been all night, she missed this important detail – and it’s with a jolt she realizes the reason she’d not noticed it is that it had just felt… right.
It’s a good movie – although both Yuri and Kei roll their eyes when the femme fatale member of the crew ends up with her top cut open by a knife in a brief moment of sexual peril. They’re pretty nice tits though, Kei thinks idly, and then glances over at Yuri and has another moment where she notices just how well Yuri’s dress fits. After it’s over, they head back to their apartment, and this time Kei notices that Yuri is definitely on her arm the whole way back home, leaning against her as the two sit in the backseat of the taxi and already dozing.
Kei thinks she could probably die happy now, but then the cab ride’s over and she nudges Yuri awake. Yuri blinks slowly, realizes she’s leaning against Kei, and straightens up with what seems like reluctance. “Oh, I fell asleep, huh?”
Kei’s attempt to not look fondly at her partner fails miserably. “Yeah,” she says, voice a little softer than it needs to be, “guess it’s right to bed for you, huh?”
“No no no,” Yuri insists, surprisingly, “the night is still young!”
“Whatever you say,” Kei replies, and the two head into the building.
When they reach their apartment, Yuri makes a beeline for the kitchen and pulls a few drinks out of the fridge. Kei, taking her cue, catches one of the cans and shrugs out of her suit coat. Yuri flops on to the couch and pats the space next to her invitingly.
Kei raises an eyebrow at this. “You sure you don’t want to get into something more comfortable?”
In response, Yuri shrugs and stretches luxuriously in a way that makes Kei start to suspect that Yuri’s become at least a little aware of the effect she’s been having on her this evening. “You’d be surprised at how comfortable this dress is. Besides, we’ve spent all evening being fancy, why would I stop now?”
“Because you’re lounging on a couch with a can of beer in your hand,” Kei replies, her voice going up at the end to make it a question. Wait, why am I trying to talk her out of her dress? (She knows exactly why she is trying to talk Yuri out of her dress, it’s just a reason that she doesn’t want to admit)
Yuri sniffs haughtily, mock offended. “I’m lounging in a gorgeous dress, that makes this fancy.” She pats the couch again, “Now come on, you’re not going to make your partner sit and drink alone, are you?”
Something about the way Yuri says ‘partner’ sounds different than usual, which just makes it all the easier for Kei to sit down maybe a little closer than she might have otherwise. It’s a damn near suicidal move on her part, but Kei is solidly past the ‘crush’ phase of this infatuation and has moved firmly into ‘down catastrophic’ territory, so she’s not quite taking the sorts of precautions she might otherwise. Yuri reacts to Kei’s choice of seat by, and Kei really and truly was not prepared for this, scooting closer, and then raising her can to cheers with Kei’s.
It is something of a miracle that Kei manages to return the gesture with a steady hand. The two both take long drinks, Kei because she feels a sudden and desperate need to calm her spiking nerves, and Yuri for reasons that Kei can only guess at.
“Thanks,” Yuri says, after a moment of silence has passed between the two.
“You’re welcome,” Kei responds easily. There’s another beat of silence. “Um, for what, exactly?”
Yuri gestures around them, as if that explains it. Then, when Kei’s expression reveals that it does not, in fact, explain it, “For tonight. Dinner and the movie and everything.”
“I mean, I used our joint account to pay for everything, so it really wasn’t—”
Yuri waves Kei off. “That’s not what I mean, idiot. I mean you took me out and gave me an excuse to dress up, and took my mind off the fact that Stefan apparently had better things to do,” she clarifies, adding “that fucking asshole,” in a lower tone that Kei isn’t really sure she was supposed to catch or not.
I would do so much more than take you out if it would make you happy, Kei thinks, her brain fizzing at how close Yuri is, worn down by prolonged denial and maybe a little of the alcohol too, I would topple a government for you, I’d fight every suitor you ever had if it meant I got to be by your side after it all and I would fucking win. Eventually she realizes she should probably answer and, because she couldn’t possibly get any kind of romantic word out without choking, shrugs and says, “Hey, what else are partners for, huh?”
She meant to say ‘friends’ instead of ‘partners,’ really she did, but the word doesn’t seem like enough anymore, and maybe it never was enough and Kei’s been doomed from the moment she met Yuri. Maybe this is just how her life is going to be now, executing a harrowing dance around a Truth that she cannot speak aloud because Kei’s faced death multiple times but she can’t face the risk of ruining what she has now.
It doesn’t seem like it’s exactly the response Yuri was looking for – there’s a flash of disappointment and her posture shifts away a little. She takes another sip of her drink and asks, “Hey, do you remember that mission with the assassin on the ship?”
Which, of course Kei does – it’s probably the closest she’s ever come to dying, like, dying for real, drifting in space and doomed to fall forever or at least until a black hole pulled her into a single stream of spaghettified particles. It’s the only mission that still gives her nightmares, although some other ones come close. She’ll wake up in a cold sweat with Yuri screaming her name, with the cold certainty that she’s done for and the strange calm that had descended on her.
“Hard one to forget,” she responds, wondering what brought this on.
“When you were…” Yuri licks her lips, seems to struggle to get the rest of the sentence out, “I mean, when you thought you were… did you mean what you said? That you’d had a good life and no regrets and you were… okay with it?”
Kei notices something in Yuri’s posture now – her grip on the can’s tightened a little, and her eyes are boring into Kei’s like she’s looking for something, but Kei isn’t sure what it is. She takes a deep breath, thinks carefully about her answer, because she has the sudden feeling that if she doesn’t answer this one honestly it’s going to break something and she doesn’t want to know what it is. “Yeah,” she says, after a moment, “I think I’ve had a good life. I was okay with it ending, even if—”
Yuri leans forward, interrupts, “if?”
The tension in the room ratchets up a sufficient number of notches that Kei begins to quietly hope that Mughi is asleep because this feels like a situation that shouldn’t be interrupted. “I mean it’s not…” she trails off, tries again, “there are… some things I’d still like to do, obviously. It was just… if I wasn’t going to be able to do them, I’d at least gotten… enough.”
“Name one.” Yuri’s voice is low now, shaking a little, and a little demanding. “Name one thing you haven’t gotten to do that you want to do.”
Don’t say ‘kiss you’ don’t say ‘kiss you’ don’t say ‘kiss you,’ Kei thinks desperately, then opens her mouth and says, “Kiss you.” Fuck.
Yuri’s eyes widen in surprise, and she might even make a little “oh” of surprise but Kei can’t hear over the roaring of her own blood in her ears and the way her brain has started chanting “You fucked up! You fucked up! You fucked up” like the crowd at a professional wrestling show. Then Yuri’s expression shifts from surprised to… Kei isn’t sure she can describe it as anything but seductive, which can’t be right, can it?
“Would you like to now,” Yuri breathes out in a voice that snakes through Kei’s ears into her brain and places whatever parts are concerned with rational thought into a chokehold.
Instead of answering, the parts of Kei’s brain that are not currently a sparking mess decide the best course of action is to take the hand that is not currently holding a can of beer and place it on Yuri’s cheek with an agonizing tenderness that Kei’s rational mind would be surprised to learn she possessed the capacity to perform. Yuri’s pupils widen, then, and her breath catches a little, which is all the encouragement Kei needs to close the distance and answer Yuri’s question as definitively as possible.
Kei thinks her entire goddamn chest might explode with the way Yuri’s lips burn against hers, with the small murmur of delight that escapes when Kei pushes forward, settling Yuri back against the couch cushions and climbing over her to get a better angle. There’s a clatter as both cans of beer hit the floor, and some lone neuron that isn’t currently chanting yes yes yes more registers that and notes they’ll need to clean that up later. She isn’t sure how much time she spends just kissing Yuri, but eventually she pulls back because it feels like if she kisses her much longer clothes are going to start coming off and while that is precisely what she wants, there’s part of her that needs to make some things clear. Yuri chases her, and Kei lets her because she cannot in this moment (or ever) deny her anything, and anyway kissing Yuri is maybe the best thing Kei’s ever done in her whole fucking life as far as she knows, at least for the moment, so before she risks blowing her chance at a passionate one night stand she might as well kiss just a little longer.
But eventually she does pull back, and this time when Yuri moves to chase her again she halts her progress with a gentle hand on her shoulder. Yuri blinks and seems to come out of a blissed-out stupor that Kei frankly cannot wait to put her back into as soon as possible.
“Just… just give me a second here, Yuri,” Kei says, her voice shaking with the effort of doing anything that is not kissing Yuri again. “We need to um,” she shakes her head to clear it, “we need to clarify something here.”
There’s real fear in Yuri’s eyes that makes Kei regret her choice of words immediately. “Is… did I do something wrong,” she asks, in a voice that is wrecked and wretched.
Kei moves instinctively to kiss away her partner’s doubts immediately, murmuring a quiet reassurance of “No, never, you haven’t done anything I didn’t want, I promise.”
“Then…” Yuri still seems nervous, “why?”
“Because,” Kei says in a voice that’s shaky with want, “I need you to know something important.”
Something seems to click into place for Yuri, because she while she still seems nervous, there’s a hint of smugness in her tone as she asks, “What’s that?”
In spite of the fact that she’s just been kissing the absolute hell out of Yuri for the last who knows how long, Kei feels a jolt of nerves before she takes a deep breath and admits, in a tone that brooks no argument, “I love you, Yuri. I love you so fucking much and I’ve loved you for so fucking long and I am sorry that I did not say it earlier because there is nobody, not a single fucking person in this whole galaxy, that I would rather spend the rest of my life with. So this is not going to be a one-time thing, okay? It can’t be a one-time thing, because if it were I think it would destroy me.” Her voice drops to a low growl, “I am going to be your goddamn girlfriend, Yuri, because there is nothing else in the world I am interested in being.”
Yuri’s eyes have been getting steadily wider as Kei makes her declaration, and when Kei finishes, she responds with a simple, “Good,” before she surges up so fast and fierce that Kei finds herself on her back quite suddenly as Yuri perches on her, looming like some kind of sexy bird of prey (Kei makes a mental note to keep these mental comparisons to herself) and fixing Kei with a look that turns Kei’s insides to jelly. “I love you too, if that wasn’t obvious enough.”
“Oh I don’t know,” Kei says, feeling a rush of excitement and delight at hearing the thing she’s wanted to hear (and resolutely denied wanting to hear) for basically years at this point. “Maybe you could be a little more obvious.”
“Fine,” Yuri says, moving down to kiss Kei again, “I guess I’ll just have to show you.”
She does. Then, because it’s important to be clear in these matters, she does it again.
Mughi startles the both of them awake the next morning when he steps in the tacky beer residue on the floor and yowls in disapproval.