#fem!polnareff

You can feel her heartbeat against you, fast and needy. You slide your hand through her hair, slow strokes that make her sigh. “Jean,” you whisper, but she just shakes her head and wraps her leg tighter around yours.

“No. Don’t say it like that.” She lifts her head just enough to look at you, blue eyes glassy and stubborn. “It’s not fair. We barely get you and then you’re gone again. I hate it. I hate waking up to an empty bed after this.”

Avdol sits propped against the headboard on your other side, quiet but watching everything. Her hand rests heavy on your thigh, thumb rubbing slow circles trying to memorize the feel of your skin. She looks at you with her deep eyes full of worry she tries to hide. “You do look exhausted,” she says softly. Her voice is calm, but you hear the undercurrent. “The places they send you… I wish I could go with you sometimes. Or at least know you are safe. Where are they sending you next? Do you even know yet?”

You shake your head and reach for her hand. She laces her fingers with yours immediately, squeezing once. She never has the time to tell you out loud the devotion she has for you, but you feel it in the way she looks at you, like you are something precious she can’t quite keep.

Jean sits up on her knees behind you, her hands already reaching for the brush on the nightstand. “Come on, let me fix your hair before bed,” she says, trying to sound brighter. “It always helps me feel better.” She starts working through the knots with careful strokes, every few passes her fingers linger, tracing the back of your neck or the line of your shoulder. “Remember last time? I braided it so nicely and you said it lasted the whole train ride.”

You lean back into her touch, eyes closed. The brush feels good, soothing after everything. “It did last,” you tell her. “I kept touching it on the way and thinking about you two.”

Avdol lights a cigarette and takes a slow drag before passing it to you. The smoke curls between you as you share it, fingers brushing each time. It tastes like comfort and the ache of goodbye all mixed together. “We both think about you constantly,” she says after a moment. “Jean talks about you every day. I try to stay practical, but it’s hard. This life you lead leaves us with scraps of time. I wish we could give you more than this room and these nights.”

Jean leans forward, pressing a kiss just behind your ear. “Yeah. Scraps. But they’re the best scraps.” Her voice drops, whiny again but softer. “Stay longer next time. Or take us with you on one mission. I can fight, you know that. Avdol too. We could be useful instead of just waiting here like this.”

You take another pull from the cigarette and hand it back to Avdol. “I wish it worked like that. But it’s not safe. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to either of you because of me.”

Avdol nods, but her hand tightens on your thigh. “We know. Still doesn’t make it easier.” She watches Jean brushing your hair, a small smile tugging at her lips even though her eyes stay sad. “Look at us. Clinging like this every time. You’d think we have all the time in the world.”

Jean finishes one side and starts on the other, humming a little tune under her breath. It’s the same one she always does when she is trying not to cry. “I traced your freckles again tonight,” you say quietly, glancing back at her. “I think I could do it blind next time.”

She laughs, soft and watery. “Hm, I’m adding more just to mess with you.” Her arms slip around your shoulders from behind, hugging you close. “I love you. Both of you. Even if we only get these stupid short visits. It’s enough. It has to be enough.”

The words hang there, heavy with everything unsaid. Avdol leans in and presses her forehead to yours for a moment, sharing the last of the cigarette. “We love you more than we say,” she adds. “More than we probably should, given how little time we have. But it’s true.”

You close your eyes and let them hold you, you always find yourself holding back tears. Jean’s fingers keep moving through your hair, Avdol’s hand stays warm on your skin. Morning will come soon enough, dragging you back to trains and missions and lonely hotel beds.

When you feel the tears filling your eyes, you yawn, trying to disguise your sadness with tiredness, Avdol sees it in your eyes and takes her own fingers to clean your tears. “We should sleep now,” 

Jean pouts, resting her chin on your shoulder, opening her mouth and closing it when she sees your tear stained cheeks. She nods then, freeing you from her embrace and letting you lay back in the pillows. Both of them hug you in their nakedness, pressing their bodies to be as close as possible to you. Jean hides in your neck while Avdol lets you snuggle between her breasts, keeping you warm. 

“Wake us up when you have to leave, okay?” She tells you before turning off the lights and kissing your lips one more time.

You find it sweet how they call it your home too even if you don’t have anything yours there. All your belongings are always traveling with you, the only thing in that apartment that’s yours is them. 

The walk to the place is full of overlapping voices and stolen touches. Jean holds your hand the whole way, swinging it a little. “We tried that new recipe you mentioned last time. The croissants are actually good. Avdol burned the first batch she attempted though.” Avdol chuckles low and bumps her shoulder against yours. “Only because someone kept distracting me.”

Inside the apartment the door clicks shut and it feels like the rest of the world drops away. Jean is on you again immediately, pushing you gently against the wall for a proper kiss. It starts soft, but deepens fast. Her mouth is warm and eager, hands pressing your hips. Avdol joins after a moment, turning your face to her so she can kiss you too. 

You get lost in their touches, forgetting about everything else. 

Jean tugs you toward the bedroom, Avdol following with a hand at the small of your back. “C’mon. We have two whole nights before anything else matters. I want to feel you.”

Clothes start coming off, Jean peels off her own top first, then reaches for yours. Avdol’s hands are already working on your belt, whispering how beautiful you look and how much they both need this.

But when Jean tugs your shirt up and over your head, you freeze. Your arms come down quickly, crossing over your chest on instinct. “Wait. No,” you say, voice distant even to your own ears. You step back a little, pulling the shirt back down fast. You panic at that moment, scared that they might have seen something.

Avdol stops too, eyes narrowing as she studies you closer. “Show us,” she says quietly. It’s not a demand, but you know that tone. You hesitate, then lift the hem of your shirt just enough. The bruises are ugly, a half-healed gash along your side still taped, smaller cuts and marks scattered over your torso and arms. Nothing life-threatening, but enough to tell the story of the last mission.

Jean’s breath catches. “Oh… oh no.” She reaches out but stops short, fingers trembling. “What happened? Why didn’t you say anything at the station?” Her eyes fill up fast and she presses closer anyway. “We were all over you. I’m so sorry.”

Avdol’s face tightens, she sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you down between them carefully, one hand resting on your knee. 

“You should have told us right away. We would have kept it soft.” Her thumb strokes slow circles, careful to avoid the worst spots. “Does it still hurt? Be honest.”

You feel bad, really bad, because you can see how much they wanted this. The way Jean had been buzzing with energy, how Avdol’s touches had grown hungry. They had been waiting for you, building up these nights in their heads and now here you are pulling away. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, looking down at your calloused hands. “I know you both wanted to… you know. Catch up properly. I wanted it too, but my body just… not tonight. Maybe not for a couple days. I didn’t want to ruin the reunion.”

Jean makes a sad noise and curls into your side anyway, careful this time, her head on your shoulder. “You didn’t ruin anything. You’re here, that’s what matters. I just hate seeing you like this. It makes me want to fight whoever did it.” Her fingers trace lightly around a bruise, not touching it. “Stay right here. We can just hold you. Whatever you need.”

Avdol nods and shifts closer on your other side, her arm sliding around your shoulders without pressing on the sore spots. “Jean is right. There is no rush. We have time this visit.” She kisses the top of your head, then rests her cheek against it. “Tell us what happened, if you can. Either way, we are not going anywhere. You don’t have to be strong for us right now.”

You let out a shaky breath and lean into them, the warmth of their bodies soothing even through the ache. You three end up cuddling in bed together. Jean starts humming the same little tune as she runs her fingers through your hair, untangling it gently. 

The devotion is still there, wrapping around you tighter because of the hurt. It’s sad in its own way, knowing they want more but choosing to give you this instead. You talk a little, sharing pieces of the mission and they listen without pushing. Kisses land soft on your temples and hands, full of love and the relief of being together again.

The room grows quieter as night settles in. Jean stays clingy, pressed close but mindful, while Avdol keeps playing with your hands and kissing your knuckles, whispering words about how they will take care of you these next few days. It’s not the reunion any of you pictured, but it’s them and it’s real.