for gipsy_danger

[striker_eureka]

timeline divergence. 

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[gipsy_danger]

She turns to look at him, blue eyes fixing on his face as she rests her jacket on the back of the chair, right next to his. Her fingers trail over the chair back as she moves closer to him before reaching to touch his elbow instead.

"I have quarters, down with the scientists -- just in case." In case he hadn't wanted her, had rejected her. Her team hadn't really been certain of the Marshal's reaction. After the War Clock stopped, after Operation Pitfall, he'd been understandably different and a little less predictable than he had been before.

"If you'll have me, I'll stay with you." Because she wants to. Desperately.

[striker_eureka]

It looks nice, her jacket hanging next to his. He doesn't often wear the green khaki thing anymore, now that he's got a higher rank he can't get away with his casual pilot gear. But they look nice together.

"Of course I'll have you, love," he protests, reeling her in so he can touch her. This may fade with time, but right now, Hercules apparently wants to have his hands on her all the time, just to make sure she's really real.

"The basement's no place for a pretty girl like you."

[gipsy_danger]

You know, said scientists might be the tiniest bit disappointed he's accepted her so easily. She really is a pretty lady and they'd object profusely to saying she has no business in the basement.

But she's only got eyes for the Marshal.

"This is my place," she decides, easily going to him once more. "Right here. With you." She looks up at him and lets her fingers touch his jaw.

[striker_eureka]

Said scientists can keep their grubby paws to themselves. It's bad enough they made her, they know more about her body and her physiology than he does. (Which is something Hercules plans on rectifying thoroughly sometime in the near future.)

He leans in to kiss her lightly, smiling against her lips.

"Now that's what I like to hear," he murmurs, bumping his nose against hers in a fond little nuzzle before pulling back a little.

"Wanna see the rest?"

[gipsy_danger]

They sure do. Wrap your mind around that one, Herucles.

"Yes. Show me." She smiles at him when he pulls back, arms firmly settled around his waist.

"I want to see it all."

[striker_eureka]

He doesn't want to. He doesn't like the idea of them knowing things about her that he doesn't. It's not fair. She's his.

He extricates himself from her grasp and takes her hand instead, leading her through the small apartment that counts as 'his space.' It really is small, unfortunately, but whatever, it's got a living room, a small kitchenette, a bathroom (with a real bathtub), and finally, his bedroom. All very spartan, all very neat and tidy, but all his.

Theirs, now.

"This is it, I'm afraid. Not much to look at."

[gipsy_danger]

Gipsy doesn't care -- it's perfect, like she said. Everything about it is perfect and beautiful and everything she could have wanted. It's his, it's where he's been living and she can feel his presence here in everything that she touches and sees.

"It's just right." Her palm rests on the wall of the bedroom and she looks over her shoulder at him, lips curving into a smile. "I love it."

[striker_eureka]

He steps up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close against his chest and ducking his head down to kiss the bare cap of her shoulder.

"Have to say, I like it a lot more now that it's got you in it," he murmurs, his hand spreading wide against her belly.

[gipsy_danger]

Her head tips back to rest against him; it's reminiscent of the time she appeared behind him in the Drift and pulled him close, holding him tightly against her chest.

"It was missing something," she agreed, hands dropping from the wall to cover his as she leaned against him. "But I'm here, now."

[striker_eureka]

Except this time, there's no mild tinge of disappointment over a failed test, just the jubilant relief of her miraculous return.

"And thank god for that, love," he replies, his lips moving over her shoulder and up her neck to the hinge of her jaw. He's half tempted to find out if he can leave a hickey on her skin, but he's forty-five now, he can't go around doing that kind of thing.

[gipsy_danger]

She tips her head so that he's got better access to her skin. It's synthetic, all of her is -- but it reacts and flushes and bruises and feels just like his.

"Do you remember when I found those secret memories?" Of all of his sexual escapades.

[striker_eureka]

He huffs out a laugh through his nose, a warm wash of air across her neck.

"Do I remember. Yes, love, I remember." He remembers how she had squirmed in his arms, her eyes wide and surprised but so very interested as she replayed most of his sexual history. "You nearly gave me a heart attack with that."

[gipsy_danger]

Gipsy's face floods with color at that, and she's very glad that he can't currently see her face.

"I have a tendency to embarrass you, don't I?"

[striker_eureka]

He hums idly, going back to nibbling at her perfect neck.

"I don't mind it so much," he admits, stroking his hand over her stomach soothingly. "We should have a talk about sex and privacy, though, because that could get pretty bad."

[gipsy_danger]

"I'm sorry." She doesn't mean to. Usually.

"Now?" She's not sure if she has the focus for that right now. His hand moving over her body is very distracting, and Gipsy's thoughts are going other places that have little to do with discussions and more to do with actions.

"I want to experience everything with you, Hercules Hansen. Sex included. But I will wait, if that's what you want."

[striker_eureka]

"It doesn't have to be right now..."

He's rather enjoying touching her too, even if her shirt is in the way. His hands settle down at her hips and he gently turns her around so she's facing him again, which lets him kiss her slowly and coax her to walk backwards towards his bed.

"I've waited over a year for you, love, waiting is not exactly appealing right now."

[gipsy_danger]

"Later, then."

Much, much later.

"No...no, it isn't." Nothing about waiting seems appealing right now, and she moves with him eagerly, palms flat on his chest. "Can we--?"

[striker_eureka]

"Whatever you want to do, Gipsy," he assures her, his hands strong and steady on her as he inches her back until her knees hit the mattress and she sits down. Instead of joining her on the bed, Hercules kneels down in front of her and sets to untying her shoelaces, sliding her boots off and carefully setting them aside.

"I don't want to rush you."

[gipsy_danger]

There's heat in her face as she watches him take her boots off for her. Everything seems so...intimate already, because from what she's seen of them, this is not something that most humans do for one another.

"I want to." The sentence is rushed and she can feel her face getting warm again. "I'm...inexperienced, though." She's 'learned' though his memories, but there's something to be said about doing this first hand.

"Is that alright?"

[striker_eureka]

He looks up at her and the smile on his face should speak volumes about just what he feels for her.

"I wouldn't kick you out of bed for the world," he assures her, picking up her hand and kissing the palm. "And if your inexperience bothers you, well..."

Time for a little wink. "We can always fix that."

[gipsy_danger]

It does, and it sends a wave of affection crashing over her that's entirely different from the heat that's settled in her belly. Trust him to make her smile, even at a moment like this.

"You are quite the man, Hercules Hansen." And she adores him for it. So much. Her features settle into a determined expression; even if she's inexperienced and relatively clueless, she wants to do this.

"I want you. Right now. Will you show me what it's like to be part of you outside the Drift?"

[striker_eureka]

There we go, that's the smile he was looking for.

"Whatever you want, Gipsy Danger."

He surges up from his position on the ground and kisses her, getting his feet under himself and slowly pushing her back down onto the bed, following as soon as he's toed out of his shoes. Some brief maneuvering later, and he's got her up against his pillows, her hair spilling darkly across the stark white cotton, and his hands are under her shirt.

It slowly gets peeled off her as he kisses her, trying both to distract her and to rile her up so whatever nerves she's feeling get subsumed by other, more interesting feelings.

[gipsy_danger]

She's incredibly nervous because the last thing she wants is to be bad at this. While Gipsy isn't used to being the best Jaeger (Striker would have argued that he was the best), she was always a heavy hitter and she'd never lost -- not even on the day she'd died. She considers the battle a success, even if people died that didn't have to.

So to be in a position like this; vulnerable and exposed and entirely human, open and subject to judgement -- is nerve wracking. She doesn't want to fail, and she damn sure doesn't want to leave him disappointed.

He's careful with her, though, and Gipsy can tell that he's trying to soothe her rattled mind and if she's to be honest with herself, it's working. Her jitters morph into a different kind of nerve-tingling sensation, and she's eagerly reaching to get her hands on him and simply touch whatever is available and exposed to her. Face, arms, chest -- curious hands travel and pick at clothing, frowning at the damn buttons but quickly losing her frustration the moment her shirt is peeled off and tossed to the side.

[striker_eureka]

Hercules seems far less interested in taking off his own clothes, focusing instead on what she's wearing and how she should be doing less of that.

She could never disappoint him. Not like this. Helping her learn how her new body functions and responds will be an exciting adventure and he's looking forward to them learning together.

She's left lying in a perfectly serviceable sports bra, her skin pale and milky and utterly unblemished, and Hercules has a brief moment of ridiculous nerves, anxiety over the fact that his body is quite heavily marked up by this point in his life: his Air Force tattoo on one arm, freckles across his chest, countless scars littering his skin from one scrape or another. But then he remembers that he's really the only man Gipsy has ever been interested in which means she has nobody to compare him to, and he forces himself to stop thinking about it.

His lips abandon hers to trail down the smooth column of her neck, nibbling along the sweep of her clavicles, his fingers stroking the skin just below the band of her bra nice and slow.

[gipsy_danger]

Gipsy should really stop comparing this to battle. It's really not very similar at all. Wins and losses and jaegers and kaiju -- nothing even remotely close to the way his hands feel on her skin and the way he's looking at her. Unfortunately, she's doesn't have a lot to relate the experience to besides that, so it is what it is. As they do this more (and oh, does she want to), she'll have more of a frame of reference.

She sighs and adjusts under him, just a little, hips lifting to press up before settling back down. She's bared and while she's certain that he's very enthralled in her wearing considerably less clothing, Gipsy would really feel better if they were a matched set in that. It's only fair, right?

"These...are infuriating." She mumbles, hands picking at the buttons on his shirt. She's glad she's only got the one, just there on her standard issue pants.