HOME | DD

Description
Title: Nice Chat
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Aerrow/Finn

Can't imagine what that would do to our group dynamic an' all. It's not like

Aerrow's gonna get mad; he's not that kind of guy. He's a risk-taker himself,

and he's understanding--I mean, he never holds a grudge to MY screwups. So I

won't lose him. There MAY be awkward, though, lots and lots of awkward.

Furthermore, though he'd try--he cares enough about any of us to try--I don't

see him really diggin' the scene. He doesn't treat girls differently than guys, so it's

hard to tell, but--and even I think this is creepy--I've studied him, picked out all

sorts of quirks to his personality, can tell when he's forming a plan or being

cunning versus being sincere, and I don't get those direct, romantic vibes. He's

direct, sure; unless he's being clever he's straightforward, but I honestly don't

see him craving ANYone's attention but EVERYONE.

He likes us looking up to him, and since he sprinkles that cocky demeanor with

some well-tuned charm, we don't mind. But he doesn't show off to get our

attention, y'know? He just does what he does, which is kick Cyclonian tail, in

fun and creative ways. That's his outlet of energy, and he's darn good at it.

My point, anyway, is I think he's too busy having fun and focusing (on the

squadron as a whole) to reciprocate any feelings. And SINCE I get that, I

recognize that part of his brain, I don't particularly see my confessions going

anywhere. So what's the point? It's too high a risk with, I'll say it, one HECK of

a payoff should I win, but even a gamblin' man weighs the odds, if he's smart

enough...and I'm a bonafide genius when it comes to Aerrow.

See, part of why I know him so well, why I've studied him so closely, is that he

is the leader. We keep an eye on each other for cues and such in battle, so we

all pay attention to each other, but I'm his wingman and I'd like to think we're

closer, if only by a bit, than he is to the others. Not to mention he knows me

darn well, and he's the best at explaining something to me or snapping me out of it when I'm, well, out of it.

And again, I understand his explanations the better

because I've studied him, and here's a nice cycle that means I can imagine his

next move, and often, when I get carried away, what I would LIKE to be his

next move.

So lately I've been thinkin', screw it, he's worth everything and I have to find out

what it's LIKE to get closer to him or it'll drive me crazy, mostly because I've

been distracted and he's caught on. To the fact that I'm not 100%, I mean,

'cause once again, his hyperfocus isn't aimed on certain emotions. Plus, we're

practically adults now, and it's reeeeeally starting to grate on my oh-so-fine

nerves when Piper or Dove lean into him or try to entice them with their pretty,

stupid eyelash flutters. Still, he hasn't grabbed onto whatever signals they're

sending him, but if he ever does, hoboy am I gonna regret my own inaction.

Funny how he pays attention to each of us, too, 'cause right when I'm

determined to speak to him about...goodness knows how I was going to bring it

up...he comes a-knockin at my cabin, saying we need to talk. The tone is light,

otherwise I might think it's a lecture, but no worries. I tell him, "door's always

open for you, buddy!" and wince at my subtlety. He leans just inside the

doorway enough for it to close, shifty but with grins. He's fidgety, so I pay

attention, tossing aside the magazine I've been pretending to read while my mind

runs around, and I sit up.

"So..." we both start. He pauses and I give a sweeping gesture to continue, and

he smiles again, and I forget about trivial things like the wrath of Cyclonis and

the fate of the world. This is more important.

"You've been kinda out of focus lately, so I thought I'd...check up, see how

you're doin'." He looks at me sideways, and I'm puzzled as to whether or not it's

a question. When I determine it is and open my mouth to answer, he steps

further into the room and beats me to it. "You've been great on missions, so

that's...great, but that's not...Aside from the team and the work, I mean, you're

my...my friend, and I...worry." He's got this calm smile on his face like things are

fine, but his words are all over the place, and he looks like he barely has enough

energy to hold himself up.

"You're worried about ME, dude?" I'm not sure if it's life as a Storm Hawk

captain or the conversation itself that's bringing him down, but he's not

comfortable, so I scoot over and thump my fist on the bed for him to sit. "Let it

go; the anxiety can only mess with ya."

He's got a fresh grin every time I speak, but now his eyebrows go up too. "I

won't ignore it if something's wrong with my sharpshooter. That's just rude." I

try to ignore the way it hits me when he says "MY sharpshooter" like that, even

if it's just Leaderspeech. I shrug and lean back on my hands with, "Eh, I can

take it--I'm tough!" Before I know it--curse his catlike reflexes!--he's grabbed

my arm and somersaulted me off the bed. Stunned, I stare at him upside down

from my cozy spot on the floor. He's got that darn smug grin on his face, and his

eyes are narrowed, and he's claimed the middle of my bed, legs crossed and

leaning over like he plans on staying there.

"Not that tough."

I blink for a second, say, "Oh, dude, you are SO dead-WRONG," and gather

my sprawled self to lunge at him.

---
We wrestled, we laughed, we calmed, and stretched across the bed and each

other, he cleared his throat. I glanced at him.

"So...?" he prompted, with an eyebrow raised again. Does he count eyebrow

raises like pushups?

"Right, the 'problem.'" I heaved an enormous sigh and propped up on my

elbows; he mimcked the move, all the better to see me with. His gazes are

intense, man, not sure if I'm the only one who's noticed. In battle with the crossbow has taught me that when

there's a point in life you need to hit, you take a deep breath and aim right for it. So, like a bandaid-

-"Well, I love ya." I started to shrug but ended up slumped. It's much harder to

disappear than I'd hoped.

"Alright." I jerked around to catch his expression, but it wasn't the acceptance I

thought, just amused. Ah, I get it. He thought that was me starting the

conversation, sort of an "You know I love you, but," a brotherly sort of thing,

which wasn't gonna fly. I widened my eyes at him, letting him work it out

himself, and could tell when it clicked. His expression fell into something entirely

different, but he didn't look away, so it wasn't disgust. If anything, it was more

confusion mixed with disbelief, much more pleasant to work with. Still, I didn't

want to leave him to his own devices too long, or this would be a really boring

conversation, so I held up my hands and let loose with the rambling. Did I

mention I'm really debonaire? I started saying how I'd do absolutely anything for

him, and he knows it, though I don't think he realizes just how deep that goes,

and I couldn't stop thinking about him or what it felt like to, "y'know"--oh, that's

great, NOW he'll NEVER be bored--when he sat up, leaning his elbows on his

knees and staring me square in the face.

"Finn."

There, that's the directness I was talking about. Got my attention enough so that

I could tell he was serious without worrying what I broke, like, I dunno, any

peace left in our friendship. With my chin clamped to my chest, I peered up at

him. He grinned again, darn it.

"You wanna give it a shot?" Aw man, he KNOWS how bow references appeal

to me! I pulled myself into a sitting position but for some reason I was the one

having trouble meeting his eyes. He seemed fine, great, excellent, we

weren't ruined, but there was that one idea that was bothering me, so I shared it

with him.

"I'd reeeeally rather not TRICK you into reciprocating, I mean, seems kind of

twisted--"

"Hey, Finn, remember that time you convinced me to try out Widow's Canyon?"

I nodded slowly. "Remember that time you got me to go on Terra Neon's Fatal

Footless Coaster?" Smile tugged at my mouth with this nod; we had trouble

getting our landlegs back, but it was awesome AND we got the pictures!

"Remember when you persuaded me to try that awful-smelling fourteen-pepper

-and-spice stew, and even though my throat burned for a week it became my

favorite food?" Had to laugh at that, c'mon! He shifted his body, distracting me

from that memory. "Remember that time you taught me what best friends are all

about?"

Okay, he lost me there. "Uh, no, you're gonna have to remind me of my

incredible feats for that one."

He flopped back down on his elbows, casualness at it's hottest. "What I mean

is, you've been my best friend for a long time, and correct me if I'm wrong, but

we'd take serious beatings for each other. What better than that to start out a

relationship on?"

I stared at my nightstand. Gotta say, he makes a lot of sense, but still, I'd feel

really guilty if he struggled to get it so hard he'd make up the feelings instead,

and he's determined, so he might. I opened my mouth but he held up his hand.

"Hold it. Whatever doubts you were going to express, forget about it. We'll

work it out as we go, and I promise," here he adjusted his hand in a solemn-

vow-pose, "to monitor my own feelings about it, and let you know if I come to

the conclusion that it's not working." I've still got a sliver of doubt left, sorry,

can't help it, but he grins it into submission so I grin back. Then says, "So," holds

out his hand, "we cool?" I shake it and he drops the doofy grin for a much

warmer, more generous look, and I swear his eyes are all over mine. He hops

off the bed and leaves with a kind "Nice chat" and a look over his shoulder that

I fear I'm already reading too much into.

The days after that pass by pretty smoothly, with slow movements in the

'romantic' direction, and I find it hilarious that HE'S easing ME into it, but boy

do I appreciate it. There are extra nudges when we share dish-duty, a lingering

grip on my shoulder when we're coming up with plans and it's my turn to hear

what I've gotta do, and a few added "Nice one, Finn!"s out on our skimmers.

Again, it's awesome, but there are moves to be made...and I'm thinking it's my turn again.

Description
Title: Nice Chat
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Aerrow/Finn

Can't imagine what that would do to our group dynamic an' all. It's not like

Aerrow's gonna get mad; he's not that kind of guy. He's a risk-taker himself,

and he's understanding--I mean, he never holds a grudge to MY screwups. So I

won't lose him. There MAY be awkward, though, lots and lots of awkward.

Furthermore, though he'd try--he cares enough about any of us to try--I don't

see him really diggin' the scene. He doesn't treat girls differently than guys, so it's

hard to tell, but--and even I think this is creepy--I've studied him, picked out all

sorts of quirks to his personality, can tell when he's forming a plan or being

cunning versus being sincere, and I don't get those direct, romantic vibes. He's

direct, sure; unless he's being clever he's straightforward, but I honestly don't

see him craving ANYone's attention but EVERYONE.

He likes us looking up to him, and since he sprinkles that cocky demeanor with

some well-tuned charm, we don't mind. But he doesn't show off to get our

attention, y'know? He just does what he does, which is kick Cyclonian tail, in

fun and creative ways. That's his outlet of energy, and he's darn good at it.

My point, anyway, is I think he's too busy having fun and focusing (on the

squadron as a whole) to reciprocate any feelings. And SINCE I get that, I

recognize that part of his brain, I don't particularly see my confessions going

anywhere. So what's the point? It's too high a risk with, I'll say it, one HECK of

a payoff should I win, but even a gamblin' man weighs the odds, if he's smart

enough...and I'm a bonafide genius when it comes to Aerrow.

See, part of why I know him so well, why I've studied him so closely, is that he

is the leader. We keep an eye on each other for cues and such in battle, so we

all pay attention to each other, but I'm his wingman and I'd like to think we're

closer, if only by a bit, than he is to the others. Not to mention he knows me

darn well, and he's the best at explaining something to me or snapping me out of it when I'm, well, out of it.

And again, I understand his explanations the better

because I've studied him, and here's a nice cycle that means I can imagine his

next move, and often, when I get carried away, what I would LIKE to be his

next move.

So lately I've been thinkin', screw it, he's worth everything and I have to find out

what it's LIKE to get closer to him or it'll drive me crazy, mostly because I've

been distracted and he's caught on. To the fact that I'm not 100%, I mean,

'cause once again, his hyperfocus isn't aimed on certain emotions. Plus, we're

practically adults now, and it's reeeeeally starting to grate on my oh-so-fine

nerves when Piper or Dove lean into him or try to entice them with their pretty,

stupid eyelash flutters. Still, he hasn't grabbed onto whatever signals they're

sending him, but if he ever does, hoboy am I gonna regret my own inaction.

Funny how he pays attention to each of us, too, 'cause right when I'm

determined to speak to him about...goodness knows how I was going to bring it

up...he comes a-knockin at my cabin, saying we need to talk. The tone is light,

otherwise I might think it's a lecture, but no worries. I tell him, "door's always

open for you, buddy!" and wince at my subtlety. He leans just inside the

doorway enough for it to close, shifty but with grins. He's fidgety, so I pay

attention, tossing aside the magazine I've been pretending to read while my mind

runs around, and I sit up.

"So..." we both start. He pauses and I give a sweeping gesture to continue, and

he smiles again, and I forget about trivial things like the wrath of Cyclonis and

the fate of the world. This is more important.

"You've been kinda out of focus lately, so I thought I'd...check up, see how

you're doin'." He looks at me sideways, and I'm puzzled as to whether or not it's

a question. When I determine it is and open my mouth to answer, he steps

further into the room and beats me to it. "You've been great on missions, so

that's...great, but that's not...Aside from the team and the work, I mean, you're

my...my friend, and I...worry." He's got this calm smile on his face like things are

fine, but his words are all over the place, and he looks like he barely has enough

energy to hold himself up.

"You're worried about ME, dude?" I'm not sure if it's life as a Storm Hawk

captain or the conversation itself that's bringing him down, but he's not

comfortable, so I scoot over and thump my fist on the bed for him to sit. "Let it

go; the anxiety can only mess with ya."

He's got a fresh grin every time I speak, but now his eyebrows go up too. "I

won't ignore it if something's wrong with my sharpshooter. That's just rude." I

try to ignore the way it hits me when he says "MY sharpshooter" like that, even

if it's just Leaderspeech. I shrug and lean back on my hands with, "Eh, I can

take it--I'm tough!" Before I know it--curse his catlike reflexes!--he's grabbed

my arm and somersaulted me off the bed. Stunned, I stare at him upside down

from my cozy spot on the floor. He's got that darn smug grin on his face, and his

eyes are narrowed, and he's claimed the middle of my bed, legs crossed and

leaning over like he plans on staying there.

"Not that tough."

I blink for a second, say, "Oh, dude, you are SO dead-WRONG," and gather

my sprawled self to lunge at him.

---
We wrestled, we laughed, we calmed, and stretched across the bed and each

other, he cleared his throat. I glanced at him.

"So...?" he prompted, with an eyebrow raised again. Does he count eyebrow

raises like pushups?

"Right, the 'problem.'" I heaved an enormous sigh and propped up on my

elbows; he mimcked the move, all the better to see me with. His gazes are

intense, man, not sure if I'm the only one who's noticed. In battle with the crossbow has taught me that when

there's a point in life you need to hit, you take a deep breath and aim right for it. So, like a bandaid-

-"Well, I love ya." I started to shrug but ended up slumped. It's much harder to

disappear than I'd hoped.

"Alright." I jerked around to catch his expression, but it wasn't the acceptance I

thought, just amused. Ah, I get it. He thought that was me starting the

conversation, sort of an "You know I love you, but," a brotherly sort of thing,

which wasn't gonna fly. I widened my eyes at him, letting him work it out

himself, and could tell when it clicked. His expression fell into something entirely

different, but he didn't look away, so it wasn't disgust. If anything, it was more

confusion mixed with disbelief, much more pleasant to work with. Still, I didn't

want to leave him to his own devices too long, or this would be a really boring

conversation, so I held up my hands and let loose with the rambling. Did I

mention I'm really debonaire? I started saying how I'd do absolutely anything for

him, and he knows it, though I don't think he realizes just how deep that goes,

and I couldn't stop thinking about him or what it felt like to, "y'know"--oh, that's

great, NOW he'll NEVER be bored--when he sat up, leaning his elbows on his

knees and staring me square in the face.

"Finn."

There, that's the directness I was talking about. Got my attention enough so that

I could tell he was serious without worrying what I broke, like, I dunno, any

peace left in our friendship. With my chin clamped to my chest, I peered up at

him. He grinned again, darn it.

"You wanna give it a shot?" Aw man, he KNOWS how bow references appeal

to me! I pulled myself into a sitting position but for some reason I was the one

having trouble meeting his eyes. He seemed fine, great, excellent, we

weren't ruined, but there was that one idea that was bothering me, so I shared it

with him.

"I'd reeeeally rather not TRICK you into reciprocating, I mean, seems kind of

twisted--"

"Hey, Finn, remember that time you convinced me to try out Widow's Canyon?"

I nodded slowly. "Remember that time you got me to go on Terra Neon's Fatal

Footless Coaster?" Smile tugged at my mouth with this nod; we had trouble

getting our landlegs back, but it was awesome AND we got the pictures!

"Remember when you persuaded me to try that awful-smelling fourteen-pepper

-and-spice stew, and even though my throat burned for a week it became my

favorite food?" Had to laugh at that, c'mon! He shifted his body, distracting me

from that memory. "Remember that time you taught me what best friends are all

about?"

Okay, he lost me there. "Uh, no, you're gonna have to remind me of my

incredible feats for that one."

He flopped back down on his elbows, casualness at it's hottest. "What I mean

is, you've been my best friend for a long time, and correct me if I'm wrong, but

we'd take serious beatings for each other. What better than that to start out a

relationship on?"

I stared at my nightstand. Gotta say, he makes a lot of sense, but still, I'd feel

really guilty if he struggled to get it so hard he'd make up the feelings instead,

and he's determined, so he might. I opened my mouth but he held up his hand.

"Hold it. Whatever doubts you were going to express, forget about it. We'll

work it out as we go, and I promise," here he adjusted his hand in a solemn-

vow-pose, "to monitor my own feelings about it, and let you know if I come to

the conclusion that it's not working." I've still got a sliver of doubt left, sorry,

can't help it, but he grins it into submission so I grin back. Then says, "So," holds

out his hand, "we cool?" I shake it and he drops the doofy grin for a much

warmer, more generous look, and I swear his eyes are all over mine. He hops

off the bed and leaves with a kind "Nice chat" and a look over his shoulder that

I fear I'm already reading too much into.

The days after that pass by pretty smoothly, with slow movements in the

'romantic' direction, and I find it hilarious that HE'S easing ME into it, but boy

do I appreciate it. There are extra nudges when we share dish-duty, a lingering

grip on my shoulder when we're coming up with plans and it's my turn to hear

what I've gotta do, and a few added "Nice one, Finn!"s out on our skimmers.

Again, it's awesome, but there are moves to be made...and I'm thinking it's my turn again.