lady_sarai: (Tim/Cissie Kiss: It's the cape. [YJ])
[personal profile] lady_sarai
Title: Give Rest
Fandom: DC Comics
Characters: Tim Drake/Cissie King-Jones
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,566

Summary: For [ profile] zoe_chan, to cheer her up! Title is from the song "Ships" by Umbrellas--We will one day dock at the same port / And give rest to our weary legs. ZOMG, Sara wrote something! GASP.

Cissie returned to her room after practice exhausted, tired and hating the whole world. It had been one of those Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Sneaky Hate Spiral type of days, and being kept at archery practice for an extra hour because of the impending Big Deal competition really hadn't helped. If she was being honest with herself, she might have admitted that a large part of her bad mood came from not talking to Tim for three days now. She at least knew he was still alive because he emailed her every night before he went to bed--though this morning's email hadn't arrived until after eight--but she missed talking to him. She had tried calling the night before, only to get his voice mail; she could only hope he had been sleeping. With as little sleep as he managed to get by on, every little bit counted.

But she didn't want to be that girl, the one who needed her boyfriend around all the time, or who turned into a raging bitch if he didn't call her every day, so she avoided thinking about it. The end result being that Cissie stewed and hated everyone who crossed her path to varying degrees. By the time she headed back to her room, she was in rare form, muttering curses under her breath as she let herself in and desperately hoping no one came to hang out or work on homework. She had plans for a long, hot shower and curling up in bed with her favorite blanket and a good book or a comfort movie. Maybe she would even lock her door and pretend to be asleep. Or at least put a note on the white board that she wanted to be left alone.

She let herself into her room and tossed her equipment aside, kicked off her shoes and tore the elastic off the end of her braid. She was crossing the room, running her fingers through her hair to free it, when she finally noticed that she wasn't alone in the room. It was about the same time the figure sitting at her desk cleared his throat. Cissie froze and blinked, taking in his presence and the smirk on his face and wondered what upgrades he had had time to perform on her computer before she realized what she was seeing and gave a happy squeak.

"Tim!" she cried, and ran over to jump at him.

He laughed and caught her, pulling her down to sit on his lap. "Hi gorgeous. Miss me?"

"You have no idea," she said happily, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you," he said simply, kissing her nose. "I wrapped up the case I've been working on this morning and decided I deserved a night off. And the only way to really get a night off is to get out of the city. You were distracted; everything all right?"

"Now it is," she told him, hugging him tightly. "I was just cranky."

"Bad day?"

"Eh. I think it was me more than the day. Unless the whole world really is out to get me."

He tightened his arms around her, smiling. "Well, I know one person who was definitely out to get you."

Cissie giggled, then stopped and pulled back to frown at him. "Tim, have you slept at all today?"

Tim's eyebrows shot up and he glanced at her clock. "...Some. I'm fine, Ciss. I just needed to see you."

She frowned and brushed her fingers through his hair. "Everything okay?"

He nodded, and if she didn't know him so well, she might not have noticed the way his jaw clenched or the way the muscles in his arms tensed ever-so-slightly before he answered. "Everything's perfect now."

Cissie gave him a long look, trying to decide if she wanted to call him on the way he was avoiding giving her an answer. The look he wore was too deliberately calm, but she could feel his tension rising the longer she stayed silent. Finally she sighed and leaned in, kissing him softly, knotting her fingers in his hair. She leaned her forehead against his. "I'm so going to harass you about this later, you know. Because I don't believe you. But right now I'm too happy to see you and I don't feel like ruining the mood by arguing with you."

Tim let out a soft sigh and she wasn't sure if it was relieved or exasperated or both. "I don't want to argue either," he murmured, kissing her and running a hand up and down her back. His other hand went to her hair, combing through her half-unraveled braid, finishing the job for her. "I love you."

"I love you too." She wrapped her arms tightly around him and just held him, reveling in his arms around her and the way he pressed his face into her neck, dropping a kiss on her collarbone. She shivered a little and forced herself to pull back, cupping his face in her hands so she could give him a deep kiss. "C'mere."

He smiled, letting her pull him to his feet. "Yes, ma'am," he teased, dropping his hands to her waist, pulling her close again. She laughed and pushed him back toward her bed, pulling at his sweater. He dropped to sit on the mattress and caught her hands, a frown crossing his face briefly. "Ciss..."

She stopped, going still. "How bad?" she asked, her mouth dry.

Tim looked up at her and shook his head after just a second's hesitation. "Not very." He rubbed a thumb absently over her hip. "I just--didn't want you to be surprised. It looks worse than it is. I promise."

Cissie looked at him for a moment, then silently continued pushing his sweater up. He let her remove it, watching her carefully as she took in the new bruises, scrapes and stitches that covered his torso and arms. Neither of them said anything as she looked him over, running her fingertips over a dark bruise on his shoulder.

Finally he spoke up, reaching up to catch her hand. "I saved sixteen girls last night. Human trafficking ring." A look crossed his face and he swallowed before meeting her eyes again. "I'm fine. I promise."

She pushed her fingers into his hair and leaned down, kissing him fiercely. She wasn't ready to say it was okay, even though she knew that's what he needed to hear; she knew he hated it when she worried, but she couldn't help it. Faced with undeniable evidence of how close he came to death every night, all she could do was hold him, touch him, feel him breathing. He fell back onto the bed, pulling her with him, whispering reassurances to her between kisses. "I'm here, Ciss. I'm all right."

"I know," she said finally.

"Good. But I don't mind proving it anyway."

Cissie laughed. "I think you should."

He was pulling her shirt up over her head when there was a knock on the door. They both froze and Cissie dropped her head to his chest with a groan. "I'm not home," she whispered.

The knocking continued. "Cissie! Cissie, I know you're in there!"

"I'm going to kill her," she grumbled.

Tim kissed her hair and pulled her shirt back down, smoothing it over her back. "Go on. I'm not going anywhere."

She lifted her head and pouted at him. "Do I have to?"

The knocking became a pounding and Tim grinned. "I think so."

"I hate everyone," she grouched, disentangling herself. She leaned in for a quick kiss, amending, "Except you. I'll be right back."

"Love you too, Ciss."

Cissie slipped out into the hall to deal with the interruption, which turned out to be a homework crisis. It took her longer than she wanted to deal with, but she finally did and scrawled a quick "do not disturb, sleeping" note on her board before returning to the room and locking it behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the door. "Finally."

She looked over to the bed to apologize to Tim, but the apology died on her lips. He was sprawled across her bed, sound asleep. His mouth hung slightly open and he breathed deeply and evenly, snoring softly and looking completely exhausted. Cissie sighed to herself and crossed the room, looking down at him. Asleep, she could see how tired he was; he was pale and his eyes looked almost bruised. She wondered how much sleep he had gotten in the last week and brushed her fingers through his hair. She knew she could wake him, but he looked so tired and peaceful that she didn't want to. Besides, he didn't often let himself sleep like this, unguarded and deep enough to sleep through someone touching him.

Cissie smiled down at him and leaned over, kissing his forehead. Then she changed into a nightgown and grabbed a spare blanket, spreading it over them as she crawled into bed. Sooner or later he would wake up and they could pick up where they left off, but for now she was happy just to curl up with him and listen his breathing and his heartbeat, feel him next to her, sleeping safely in her bed.
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June 2011

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