#if you put more pressure onto that plush it will squeak out duck noise just like a typical plastic duckie anw. just my thought

[takitori67]

The origin of that one post

[alderaani]

conceal don’t feel

Summary: Fox removes his helmet in front of Riyo for the first time, and she very much likes what she sees. | AO3 

Pairing: Foxiyo, no warnings.

A/N: I’m not even really sure where this came from, but it has been all my brain wanted to write for the past two days, so.......here she is.

Riyo knew what it was like to fall.

It was a rite of passage on Pantora to climb the cliffs outside the capital, the only high point disturbing the tarnished gleam of the marshlands for hundreds of miles. It usually took adolescents several tries to reach the top and Riyo had been no different, just one of many amongst the blue-and-purple sea of her peers. She’d been fifteen then, straddling the cusp of adulthood and desperate to prove herself. How funny, now, that she wanted to peel back a decade and tell that young girl to slow down, not rush, to cling on to her youth.

The day of her climbing she’d been so impatient, so sure that she would be among the first to reach the top. It had lasted as long as it took to leave the ground before all ambition had been wiped away, the world narrowing down to the tips of her fingers, the pads of her toes and the way she sought out crevices in which to place them. She wasn’t the first to fall, nor was she the last. The memory was sharp and clear, like the cold air near the top of the ridge, where the birds took flight from their nests and swirled, screaming, around their earthly intruders. She’d hesitated a beat too long, her fingers sliding on the slick rock, and then there had been the lurch of her stomach dropping out, the white noise of terror supernovaing inside her skull. The split second of free-fall, of feeling totally and utterly weightless, before gravity had set in. The sudden finality of the drop, of the way the air rushed through her horrifyingly empty fingers.

The ropes had caught her, of course, along with the eager, guiding hands of her friends, and before long she’d been stood on the peak, feeling the wind corral the backs of her legs and pull teasingly at her hair, victory surging in her gut. But the feeling had stayed with her - that long, eternal moment, like a drawn in breath.

It was the sort of thing most people didn’t experience twice. But now here she was, staring into Commander Fox’s face and stepping into free fall.

“Senator?” He was saying, his hands firm and solid on the curves of her shoulders. Her poncho had gone awry in the bomb blast that had shattered her windows and put the Senate into lockdown, and he pulled up the edges and tucked them round her almost absentmindedly. She shivered at the feeling of his gloved fingers brushing over her naked skin, despite the blunt efficiency of the touch.

“Senator Chuchi?” The commander repeated, his hands going tight. “Senator?”

When she didn’t reply, unable to do anything but stare, he released one of her shoulders in favour of putting his commlink to his mouth.

“I need a medic here stat. Think the Senator’s going into shock.”

That was enough for her to shake her head, feeling the scrape of her hair pieces against her scalp where they’d gone awry. Pulling some sort of composure together out of the rubble was harder, though she did her best seeing the worry in those brown eyes.

Was this always what he looked like under that helmet? Was there always so much feeling, fleeting and raw across his naked face? She was so used to having to parse out his emotions from the slant of his shoulders, the tight motions of his hands, the hard shape of his voice, that so much bare skin was almost overwhelming. 

“Sorry, Commander, I’m well,” she murmured. His eyes were a brown she’d seen literally a thousand times, but somehow were completely different. The full lashes, the little creases developing at the corners, the flecks of gold sitting bold at their centres. The hard, piercing gaze that was all Fox, breathtaking without his helmet in the way. It was almost worth the ruin her office had been turned into to have seen the strong line of his jaw, the soft streaks of grey hair developing at his temples. His lips looked chapped and raw, and a not-insignificant part of her wanted to touch them with her thumb. 

“Senator, you’ve been staring at me for five minutes,” Fox informed her flatly, voice deep and scratchy with a bass that the vocoder must usually filter out. “And - kriff, you’re bleeding.”

“What?” Riyo reached up to touch her face, then squeaked when Fox caught her wrist and reached into his utility belt for a tissue, which he used to dab at her hairline. There was a flash of pain as it came away dark, and the cold night air funnelling through the open window sharded against her bare skin, sending shivers wracking through her body.

“Oh,” she breathed, as Fox cursed and pressed the tissue back down. As he shifted she caught sight of a thin line of red beading on his cheekbone and tilted her head. “You’re bleeding too.”

“Just stay still, Senator,” Fox said, ignoring her comment in favour of glancing over his shoulder and shifting so that his body was between her and the door. His uncovered curls lifted as a fresh gust of wind blew in, his shoulders hunching. She saw him glance at his helmet more than once, resting by his feet with the visor shattered, and considered how odd this must be for him too as she let herself be manhandled away from the window to one of the plush green chairs in the corner, stained now and blackened with soot. 

“I’ve never seen your face before. It’s very nice,” she said before she could help it, fighting the urge to clap her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, or to phrase it like he’d picked it at a store. 

Usually she was so careful around the Commander, so choosy with what she said. Riyo had learned early on that blunter commentary would make Fox withdraw, turning him back into a professional pillar of plastoid and paint. Too many nights of him leading her escort back to her apartment had gone by in silence before she’d mastered the knack of weedling him into polite conversation, like luring a baby loth-cat into the open. 

She liked him - liked the way the harsh things seemed to roll impassively off his back, the way he turned to stone should anyone cross him or his brothers, the plainness of his feelings when you knew how to look. She didn’t know why she’d felt so compelled to learn his tells, and he hadn’t invited her in as much as she’d bothered to knock. Commenting on his face, bared without permission, felt much more like picking the lock and forcing entry to the tight facade he so carefully maintained.

It seemed to be a night for surprises, though. Fox just tilted his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You’ve seen several of the Guard, before, yes?”

Riyo nodded, then winced as it sent pain skittering down her neck. Fox noticed, of course, and moved one hand to support the base of her skull while he continued to press down on the wound. Now that he’d mentioned it she could feel the blood trails tickling as they dried down her cheek. 

“Then you have seen my face, Senator. I got the standard GAR issue, same as everyone else.”

She shook her head before she could think better of it, and realised suddenly that she was trembling, shivers wracking up her arms. Perhaps the Commander was onto something with his assertion of shock. 

“Now that’s not true at all,” she murmured, aware that she was setting herself up for another fall but unable to stop the words tumbling out. “Now that I know it, I’d recognise yours anywhere, Fox.” 

His brow crinkled, concern burning bright in those pretty eyes, and she realised, distantly and unable to care much, that she’d never called him by name before. Not without ‘Commander’ attached, at least. He raised his commlink again. 

“What the Sith-hells is taking so long, Oops? Get your shebs up to level fifty now,” he hissed, then pressed down firmly when she shifted again. “Please stay still.” 

“I’m cold,” Riyo said quietly, closing her eyes briefly until Fox made a low sound and shook her, just a little. 

“Come on Senator, keep talking to me. Are you sure there’s no medkit in here?” He asked.

Riyo gestured at the still-smouldering remains of her desk. “There was one in the third draw down.” 

Fox cursed, soft and sharp, and despite the cold and the way her head was swimming, it made her giggle. 

“Sorry Commander,” Came a panting, tinny voice. “I’m in the stairwell now, moving to your location. It’s chaos down here, ‘m gettin’ run over by half the karking Senate.” 

“Tell him corridor 847 is always empty,” Riyo murmured. “The maintenance tunnel half way down pops out just opposite my aide’s office.” 

Fox raised an eyebrow but dutifully relayed the message, getting a laugh and an affirmative from the medic on the other end. 

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, instantly regretting it when Fox’s expression shuttered. “No - I mean - you can laugh. I suppose it’s silly, but sometimes it’s the only way to avoid Senator Bronn. I climb in there with a datapad and pretend I’m out until he leaves. Courageous of me, isn’t it?” 

Fox’s forehead creased. “Is he giving you trouble?”

Riyo laughed weakly. “No, no, it’s very kind of you to worry, Commander. He just likes to talk too much and orders the worst food - some sort of delicacy from his home, I think, but they taste awful. And it would cause offence to refuse.”

There was a short pause before Fox’s lips stretched into a small grin, his head ducking as if to hide it from view. 

“So you hide in the maintenance halls?”

Riyo couldn’t help the answering smile that burst onto her face, even as her cheeks went hot. Their gazes met, and the jolt that ran through her was electric before she forced herself to look away. She swallowed thickly. 

“I’ve never liked confrontation,” she shrugged. “So where I can, I avoid it. Perhaps not the best trait in a Senator.”

Where Fox’s hand still cupped the back of her neck she felt the gentlest pressure, the quick sweep of a thumb against the dip of her spine. 

“Seems like we could sometimes do with more of that to me,” he said, voice soft but still amused. At this distance she could see the light stubble on his cheeks, a small scar on the bridge of his nose that had paled with time, the deep purple shadows ringing his eyes. 

Riyo stilled, lost again in the thrill of every little detail, and still hadn’t responded by the time they heard a thump and a yelp from outside the door. Fox rolled his eyes, but she could see the tension drain out of his shoulders.

“That’ll be Oops.” 

She smiled. “A promising name.”

Fox smirked. “He’s one of our best, Senator. I’ll let him in.” 

The cold rushed back in from the moment he let her go, but she could almost still feel the imprint of his hand on her skin, the weight of his eyes on her. Fox stood from where he’d been kneeling next to the chair, then turned to go to the blast door.

Riyo cleared her throat.

“Commander Fox?” 

He turned, the emergency lights slanting red over the bridge of his nose. 

“I meant it - what I said. You do have a pretty face. And I’d recognise it anywhere, GAR standard issue or not.” 

It seemed awfully important that he know, right now, before this moment ended, even though she couldn’t articulate why. She had to let him know that it mattered; that for however little it was worth, considering what she was and what the system she was part of made him do, she could see him. 

“I think that may be your head wound talking, Senator. But...thank you.”

He raised his hand towards the control panel, his head ducked, but as he pressed a button and the lights went green, Riyo could see the shy, bashful smile forming on his lips. 

She could only hope that he’d deem her worthy of that great privilege again.

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