Nolden Network

It is a truth cosmically acknowledged that James “Jim” Holden and Naomi Nagata have the best reunion scenes on The Expanse. We hate to see them separated, but we adore their unions and though this one wasn’t as explosive as we wished it could have been, in its quiet moment of solace it left us entirely satisfied and in awe.

There is a lot to appreciate about these two as a couple and as a team, and a lot of it is due to the fact that in quiet moments, they often speak the loudest. They understand each other better than any other human being ever has and will, and beyond that, they care with such fervency that it is almost unbearable at times. As scene partners, Steven Strait and Dominique Tipper have layered their respective characters and thus, their relationship with such nuances that so much of watching them is understanding that there is always much more than meets the eye.

And that is the case with them in this particular scene where for the first time, words are doing the talking just as much as their physicality—their expressions. So much of the separation this time around came with uncertainties, even for us as viewers, knowing that Naomi does not die in the books, but wondering, fearing even because we have been burned by TV before that could she? Would they do that do that her? Therefore, to imagine just how horrifying it must have been for Holden to wonder, to fear, and to wake up every morning (if he could even fall asleep), wishing she could return home.

Naomi Nagata Appreciation Week: Day 7 | Free Day

I picked “I almost lost you.” @jamesholden @the-roci

Here. She really was here. Holden squeezed his fingers tighter into the warm flesh of her shoulders, just to assure himself of her reality. Then winced and apologized immediately, worried he had hurt her.

“I’m alright, Jim,” Naomi laughed. And it was good. He hoped to be graceless, clumsy, overemotional and foolish every day, just to keep hearing that laugh. All was not lost. She was not lost.

“When the connection cut out, I thought—”

Naomi cut him off with two fingertips pressed to his lips. “We’ve been through worse near-misses than this one.”

“I know,” Holden said, trying to swallow down the thickness in his throat. “And I usually don’t have time to tell you how terrified I am. Every damn time.”

A smile graced her lips. “Too busy saving all life as we know it.”

“Or at least my own butt,” Holden agreed, with a weak mirror of her expression. But he felt tears well into his eyes anyway. “Sorry,” he said as he wiped one away, “It’s just… I guess when it’s something dumb like this, equipment failure on routine maintenance, there’s time for it to really hit me. No crisis to distract, except for the biggest one of all.”

Naomi wiped the tear welling in his other eye with her thumb. “What’s that.”

AHHH THANK YOU!!! I AM ALWAYS TAKING PROMPTS I am also always working on prompts because I take forever!!!! So here is YOUR prompt fill! I wasn’t sure if I could pull of Angst with S3 just slapping me with it SO I hope this vibe is okay! And the last bit is inspired by this art by @theninjazebra!

35. “You don’t deserve this.”

Naomi’s still sleeping when Jim climbs out of bed with a soft groan. He’s not quite ready to be awake yet, but given his body couldn’t come to an agreement on whether or not he could fall back asleep curled up against his warm, snoozing partner, he figures he could at least go get some coffee for the both of them for when she does wake up. It takes him a moment to find and pull on his boots, his old Tycho shirt, but once he does he shuffles out of the room, doing his best to make as little noise as possible.

The gentle percolating sounds filtering from the machine, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the galley start to perk him up, his body responding to the prospect of “coffee soon”. When his bulb is full of what he considers “liquid gold”, he turns to grab the other bulb, and finds Miller watching him.

“Nope,” Holden starts, holding a finger up to the apparition or whatever it calls itself. “You will not speak to me until I’ve had my coffee.”

It scoffs. “But you’re going back in to Naomi, which means—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” He wags his finger, not looking at It, focussing on making Naomi’s cup. “Coffee now, talk later.”

The spectre grumbles, hovering in his peripheral. But it does what he says. He makes her coffee without further interruption—three whites, no sugar—and carries both bulbs out of the galley, making sure to give Miller a smug look before passing into the hall. He’s won this round. He might not win the next. He’ll enjoy the victory while he can.

Naomi and Holden + “Together”