Work Text:
There was a gentle warmth on her skin. Something different from what she was used to…or something like a long forgotten memory. Not that she hadn't experienced comfort, even in recent times, but whatever this was, it was different in a good way.
Slowly, she explored what was beneath her with her finger tips.
Dirt? Grass?
The ground was soft, the long blades of grass smooth to the touch, without division or nodes. Another deep breath confirmed wherever she was was likely rural. No smell of pollution, gasoline, or industry. Though there was a lack of what one would consider traditional farm smells, as well.
Where am I? How did I get here?
She tried desperately to remember anything before this moment. A place. A name…anything.
But no answer came.
She opened her eyes but remained very still, almost reflexively, as if something deep within her remembered caution at the last moment.
Above her, the expansive blue sky filled her view, puffy white clouds occasionally passing over the midday sun. It wasn't too hot, wherever she was. Maybe early spring? The air held no bite of winter but no intensity of summer, nor the crisp decay of autumn.
No one was around. Her hands were free. She was uninjured…
Odd.
Why am I here?
Slowly, she pushed herself up on her elbows and looked around the grassy field around her. In all directions for as far as the eye could see, wildflowers poked up from the deep green of the long blades of grass. A prairie of sorts, if she had to guess. It was…beautiful, she had to admit even through her confusion.
As she tried to sit up fully, a weight settled in her lap. Startled, she looked down to see a mop of dense curly dark hair. A form stretched out beside her, the head still resting on her lap, and soft snores echoing from the form. The person was most likely male, based on his build and the clothing he wore (a button down with a red tie at his throat, trousers and belt)…but he was short of stature. And she could not, for the life of her, recall his name.
But, instinctively, she rested a hand on his hair and gently removed a few strands of grass that had weaved their way into his hair. Despite the unruliness of the style, his hair was surprisingly soft, as if he took great pains to keep it in good condition. She could admire that in anyone.
The man didn't wake but he leaned into her gentle touch almost like a cat. Once all the grass was free of his curls, he sighed a soft "Thanks, Fi…"
Fi?
Was that her name? Or rather a nickname of her name?
She puzzled over that momentarily, eyes searching out across the landscape, looking for some kind of answer to her questions.
She wasn't entirely worried about not knowing who she was or where she and this man were. They were both clothed so this wasn't some kind of sexual rendezvous, but they were certainly closer than mere acquaintances if they had fallen asleep like this in a field of flowers. Perhaps friends? Comrades? Maybe more?
She shook that thought from her mind as she couldn't truly find the energy to care.
At this moment, in this place, all she could truly feel was peace. A peace that perhaps she hadn't felt in a long time. And this man, whoever he was, added to that.
With gentle hands, she carefully moved the man from her lap to her shoulder and leaned back slowly into the grass once more. It wasn't long after counting clouds that she fell into a peaceful sleep, a true smile resting over her lips.
The weight on his shoulder wasn't really a bother, Franky tried to convince himself.
In all honesty, the position he found himself in was one of those that he had only dreamed of for years. To be so close to a woman and have her be comfortable enough to fall asleep on him? Truly dreamlike.
If the angles of their position had been more ideal, Franky might have laid his head on hers and closed his own eyes. If he had been holding the television remote at the time she fell asleep, he would have certainly lowered the volume or even turned the whole thing off to allow her better rest. But for the moment…he was stuck.
Agent Nightfall, or the alias he knew her under "Fiona Frost", was taller than him and as such, the whole top of her head was pressed into his trapezius, not just the edge of his shoulder or the outer portion of his triceps. It wasn't the most uncomfortable position in the world, but she was certainly deep in sleep with the weight that pressed into him.
And thus he considered his predicament.
On one hand, moving her may cause her to wake and ruin the whole moment. On the other, he was pretty sure she'd wake up with a crick in her neck (and likely a grouchier than usual mood to accompany it) if he kept her where she was for much longer. What's worse was that he had no helpful gadgets within reach to make any of this easier.
But if there was one thing that came from years of tinkering, it was the necessity of deliberate and delicate movements. One wrong move and it could set you back months - if not, years - on new technology. And with a deep breath, he put those years of practice into action.
With a gentle hand, he carefully cupped Fiona's cheek in his opposite hand, lifting her slightly off of his shoulder.
She didn't stir.
Another breath.
Slowly, he twisted his shoulders in order to pull out from under her body, adding his other hand to her shoulder to stabilize her from collapsing to either side.
Her breath remained slow and even, giving no hint of wakefulness. But it was the weight of her body on his hands that proved to him that she was truly asleep. Spies could fake sleeping depending on where they were, but he was sure that the dead weight couldn't be faked that easily. A part of him worried about that…but a greater part of him warmed at the thought that she could actually sleep in his presence. That she trusted him enough to know that she would be safe not only in his home base, but that he would keep his promise.
He wouldn't do anything to hurt her.
Pushing aside that warmth for the time being, he maneuvered his way to a standing position, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and chin to cradle her in one arm. It was a little awkward considering his height, but it was the best way to stabilize her while he adjusted one of the pillows at the end of the couch. Once he was sure the pillow would cradle her head, he carefully guided her until she laid down fully on the bed.
Once he was sure she wasn't going to wake, he quickly ran to find a clean blanket. She seemed to snuggle deeper into the couch as he draped the warmth over her and he couldn't help but wonder when the last time she had truly rested had been.
After years of knowing Twilight, Franky had picked up on a few habits of spies. The fact that they didn't sleep well or often was one of those hard lessons he had learned. Especially during longer assignments and certainly not within a space that they hadn't personally ensured was safe. But even then, sleep could be elusive and brief.
Nightmares were an unspoken reality, especially for those that had time out on the battlefield or after witnessing the horrors of evils all over the world.
Impulsively, his fingers brushed Fiona's frost covered hair from her eyes, tucking it gently behind her ear. He hadn't seen her full face before, and at times he had wondered why she hid half of her vision from the world around her.
But in this moment, in the quiet stillness of the night, all he could think was that in this moment she was really pretty. She may be all professionalism, sharp edges and frosty demeanor in her waking moments, but here and now as she slept so incredibly peacefully…her natural beauty shined through.
Leaning down, he briefly considered pressing a kiss to her forehead. The romantic in him thought it would be perfect in this moment!
But at the last second he reconsidered…and gently moved her hair back to its usual position.
With a breath, he pulled away and turned off the TV before making his way to his workshop. It would probably be a good idea to tinker a bit before going to bed.
And if he was lucky, maybe he could make breakfast for Fiona in the morning.