Sweat stings your eyes and makes your sight blurry as you gasp for air, gripping your knife so tightly in your right hand that it hurts the cut on your palm.

The muscles in your thighs, shoulders, and arms burn with exhaustion, begging for rest. Your teeth are gritted in wild determination, chest heaving.

Quaritch stands a few feet from you, tail whipping behind him and body lowered into a half-crouch. His right hand clenches around his own knife, much bigger than yours, and he grasps it much less harshly than you do. His breathing is even, but there is the slightest, barest sheen of sweat on his forehead.

That fact might be inadequate to others, but to you, it is clear, proud evidence of your progress.

You grin fiercely at the sight and he bares his sharp teeth back. They glint in the daylight before his mouth stretches into his own feral smile.

The muscles in your legs tighten and you lunge toward Quaritch, blade stretched out in front of you as you swipe toward his shoulder.

He jerks to the side and your knife misses him by a scant inch. You stop your body from being thrown off course by your body weight, tightening the muscles of your core and jerking to a halt.

You whirl around to face Quaritch again and barely have time to duck your head to avoid getting a knife in the face.

Quaritch doesn’t stop there, using his close proximity to grab your right arm with the hand not holding his knife. His hand wraps around your slender wrist easily, broad fingers overlapping. He jerks you in close to him by your arm and you crash face-first into his chest with a grunt, knife raising to slice at him on instinct.

He drops his knife to the ground to free his other hand, and he grabs your wrist tightly just in time to stop the blade from slicing through the fabric of his tank top and into his skin.

You struggle in his grip, face and torso pressed against his chest, both wrists caught in his grasp. You jerk your arms back and forth in an effort to loosen his grip, leaning your body backward, but he doesn’t budge.

You glare up at him, angry yellow eyes matching the color of his amused ones, and you growl when his body doesn’t move an inch even with you pushing away from him with your entire weight. Your nose scrunches up, sharp teeth showing as you snarl at him.

He smirks at your attempt to intimidate him and tightens his grip to the point of pain.

Aching lightning shoots up your wrists into your arms, and your growl turns into a yelp real fast.

“You done fightin’, sweetheart?”

Anger flares deep in your stomach at his patronizing tone, and you cry out as your vigor to remove yourself from him returns with gusto.

“I’m going to kick your ass, dickbag!”

His eyebrow raises at your ballsy words, and he chuckles.

“Yeah? How you thinkin’ you gonna do that, huh, Peach? Seems to me like I’ve got you right,” he tugs you in closer and your chest crashes right back into his, “where I want you.”

You hiss and jerk your right leg up as fast you can, knee aiming to hit him right in the balls.

Hope it hurts!

Quaritch moves to your right side just in time for your knee to hit his thigh. He takes his left leg, hooks his foot around your remaining one, and pulls.

Your leg gives out from under you and you fall backward with another surprised yelp, landing hard on your back. Air whooshes out of you for half a second as you gasp, and then you’re struggling to sit up, eager to get in at least one hit for the day.

But Quaritch is too fast for you and he grabs your arms, flipping you quickly over onto your stomach. You struggle fiercely as he squeezes both your wrists behind your back with one large hand, legs kicking up as best you can whilst on your belly.

He kneels over your pinned body, chest pressed solidly against your back. His face lowers down close to your ear, and goosebumps erupt over your body when his breath puffs out across the sensitive skin of your neck and ears. Your ears twitch frantically as he comes closer, and he whispers softly, so soft you can barely hear it,

“Looks like you’re mine, Peach.”

You grunt one last time before falling limp and pressing your face into the ground in submission.

Your heart thunders in your chest so harshly you can hear it in your ears and you pant, trying to slow it down. You lay there for another ten seconds, eyes squeezed shut, before you distantly realize that Quaritch has yet to release you from his grip, nor remove his chest from your back.

You blearily open your eyes and turn your head to where Quaritch is positioned, wondering what the hell is taking him so long to let you up.

Quaritch’s wild eyes sear into your own when you move. Your stomach swoops low when you see the hungry look in them. You stare at each other, chests heaving in tandem, and your pounding heart lurches unsteadily in your chest. You can feel the bare skin of his shoulders and arms forced against yours.

Slowly, one finger at a time, he unclenches his fingers from around your wrists. They were so tight you distantly wonder if they will leave finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

You blink at the relief of blood rushing back into your arms, and the spell between you is broken.

Quaritch blinks rapidly, the untamed look behind his eyes fading slightly as he realizes he still has you pinned. He slowly, almost reluctantly, moves his chest from your back, and suddenly you can breathe. You hadn’t even realized he was pressing so much of his heavy weight on you that you were breathless from it.

Fresh, sweet air rushes into your lungs, and your heart finally starts to slow. You lower your wobbly arms to your sides and start pressing upwards, raising your chest off the ground.

Little pieces of gravel cling to your tank top and you shakily lift a hand to dust them off. You lean back on your knees, and as you are about to shakily pull yourself to your feet, a great, blue hand drifts into your eyesight.

You look up, surprised, and yep, Quaritch is holding his hand out for you to grab in a very startling, very suspicious show of uncharacteristic generosity.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously up at him from your position on your knees kneeling before him, almost certain that the second you reached for it he would pull his hand back like an elementary school bully. You glance at him, and he simply quirks his eyebrow, as if saying, ‘Well? You gonna be a pussy?’.

You hesitantly place your hand into his. He adjusts his grip until he’s holding your hand firmly, and then with the tiniest of tugs, he lifts you up quickly, as though you weigh nothing more than air.

You go flying, almost crashing face-first into his chest again. Luckily enough for your nose and forehead, which still ache from the first time, you are able to stop yourself by bracing a hand against his chest. Your fingers brush against the cool metal of his dog tags.

His chest heaves once, twice, before you are tearing yourself away and stepping three paces back.

“You know, Peach, I almost miss when you were floppin’ around, all loose-limbed and wobbly legs, like a newborn foal. It was fuckin’ hilarious.”

You roll your eyes hard but don’t take his snobby words to heart. That was the thing about Quaritch; if you let him, he’ll poke and poke and poke until you either snap and scream at him or wilt into a pile of tears, just because he’s so damn relentless.

You, on the other hand, had done the only correct thing you could when faced with someone as seemingly mean as Quaritch; you let the things he says roll right off your back. You have to be careful when listening to Quaritch, have to dig deep and pick out all the little words that mean nothing until you're left with the bare bones of what he really means. Ignore his intimidation tactics, ignore his insults, and listen.

Otherwise, his asshole attitude and mean words would just drive a person crazy.

He disguises his compliments inside insults just because he can. And while that may not be good enough for other people, it certainly was enough for you. It was so much better than the irritated snaps and pissy words he would throw at you at the beginning when you were learning the basics, so you’ll gladly take whatever you can get.

Speaking with Quaritch is like speaking an entirely new language.

“Thanks, Quaritch,” you say breathlessly, taking his words for what they really were: a compliment.

He grins at you, smacking you on your sweaty back harshly. Air once again flees your lungs and your knees threaten to give out, but you stay standing simply for the sake of your pride.

“Got enough energy for another round, or you too tired?” he asks smugly.

“Yeah, no, I think I’m done for the day, sorry,” you gasp without shame. It’s a miracle you’re even able to form words right now, really.

He barks out a laugh. “Pussy.”

Quaritch tilts his head up toward the shining sky. Daylight catches in his yellow eyes and turns them a warm, molten gold. It steals the breath from your chest for just a moment, and you stare, caught and unable to look away.

You don’t even realize you’re practically gawking at him, looking like a stunned idiot, before he turns his head back down toward you and shoots you a glower. “What?”

You blink frantically and look down, flustered at being caught. Your hands rise to rub at your eyes, as though you are trying to clear them after staring into the bright sun for too long.  “Nothing!”

He looks skeptical but lets it go. His eyes flicker down to your cheek, and he blinks.

Before you can startle or move away, Quaritch lifts his hand and brushes the back of his index finger against the soft skin of your blue cheek. His hand is back at his side so fast you can hardly believe it had happened at all.

You freeze, mind blank as you struggle to understand what just happened. You fully gawk at him now, confused and shocked at the unexpectedly tender action.

Uh. What?

Quaritch blows on his finger and then seems to notice your startled expression. He glares at you, clearly annoyed. “What? You had an eyelash on your cheek. You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He sneers at you, crossing his arms almost defensively over his chest.

You dazedly press a hand softly against the cheek he had brushed against, skin still tingling there. Even if there had been an eyelash there, you can hardly believe he had actually willingly done such a tender act. You can’t imagine him doing that to any of the other members of his team, or even yours.

You suddenly think of him brushing an eyelash from David’s cheek, who gazes up at him as adoringly as you probably had.

The mental image is almost enough to make you giggle hysterically. It is enough to make you a little nauseous.

“Right, right, sorry. Uh, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

His gaze seems to linger on you, eyes flickering over your face and tail flicking erratically behind him. His lips seem to twitch up just slightly at the corners. He rubs the finger he used to brush your cheek, and you wonder if his skin was also tingling. Eventually, Quaritch nods in acquiescence before moving toward the gate of the courtyard.  

“See you ‘round, Peach.”

------

You’ve been in Bridgehead for over two months now, but this is the first day it rains.

You stand outside in your Avatar, head tilted back, eyes fluttered closed. It’s hard to say that it’s raining, really; it’s more of a very light, misty drizzle. The raindrops are so small that they seem to dissipate into the air by the time they reach you. Only a few are thick enough to splatter against your face and the concrete ground, but it’s still enough to make the corners of your mouth tilt up into a small, satisfied smile.

Rain back on Earth was not as fresh or clean as the water pouring from the skies of Pandora. Many places on Earth experienced droughts, rain rarely appearing. Other places were constantly wet, soaked with rain that smelled and tasted almost sharp, sour. The rain there was unbalanced, like most of the things back home.

On Pandora, though, it is beautiful, refreshing, clean. It smells sweet as you deeply breathe in the humid air, and every time you do it feels as though something deep in your soul is being healed, something you hadn’t realized was torn. You wonder if this is what it was like back on Earth hundreds of years ago, before all the pollution and corruption of the world.

You’d never felt anything like it before.

The dreary weather turns your small amount of clothing heavy and wet with humidity, making it stick uncomfortably against your slick blue skin. You refuse to go back inside, though, much too pleased to be out and breathing this amazing air.

The drifting clouds above you are gray and thick, full of unreleased water as they block the daylight. As a result, what little light there is reflects sadly off the metal and gray walls of Bridgehead, turning the area even more depressing than usual.

Regardless of the gloomy view, you much rather be out here than in your quarters or with the other members of your group. When you left, the most interesting thing happening was James trying to balance a pencil on his nose while your team lounged around on yet another uneventful day.

I miss Quaritch.

It’s a sudden thought, one that takes you completely by surprise and jolts you straight out of your peaceful position and mindset. It’s a strange insight when you realize you miss someone you probably shouldn’t.

But you just couldn't help it; for all that Quaritch is intimidating and an asshole, he is also really, really… entertaining.

There are a lot of bad things you could say about him and his mean personality, but one could never say he was boring. And it was almost embarrassing, how much he made you laugh. It wasn’t even until a few days ago when he had said something biting some poor soul who walked into a doorframe while staring at his holotablet, and your mouth had lifted once again into an entirely too amused smile. That was when you realized that Quaritch is fucking funny.

Your cheeks were almost hurting with how much he had amused you that day, even just by being Quaritch. There was just something about the crude, mean way things he sometimes said that just tickled you pink. Of course, it was the most amusing when his biting words weren’t directed toward you.

Quaritch has only been gone for two days, away with most of his Recombinant Unit to meet with a few RDA managers on the other side of Bridgehead. It had been a surprise trip, and he left the morning after your last lesson with him. Really, you would have much preferred to go with him, just so you could see the way Quaritch would surely loom over a few tiny, terrified paper-pushers, rolling his eyes at anything they had to say. You would have paid good money to see that.

Spending all this time with Quaritch is kind of making me heartless.

Instead, you’d spent those two days almost bored to tears, waiting impatiently for him to return so you could be entertained.

Quaritch had left you with a sly smirk and another hard smack on your shoulder, promising to return in two days to continue with, as he said, “Our pansy-ass tree-hugger lectures”. He had also promised to be back soon enough to keep kicking your ass in combat. 

Asshole.

You pretend not to notice the slight twinge of fondness accompanying that thought.

He’d said he back this afternoon and that you’d continue your lessons tomorrow. It’s completely unfair how much you look forward to seeing that douchebag again.

“What are you doing out here all alone, hm?” Margot’s voice from behind makes you startle slightly, too lost in your thoughts to have noticed the sound of her approaching footsteps even with your ridiculously sensitive ears.

You smile and turn your head to look at her as she comes to a stop to your left. Her Avatar stands just over you by around two inches, but it is still enough to make you tilt your head back just slightly to meet her wide, yellow-green eyes. While your Avatar is just a little bit plusher than a typical Na’vi, in accordance with your human body, Margot’s is thin and tall. She’s beautiful in her human form, but there is just something…ethereal, about these bodies.

Truly, the strength, the agility, the beauty. It simply put human bodies to shame.

You’d spent an embarrassingly long time in front of a mirror when you first started linking, too consumed with awe to do much else but look. Wide, doe-like eyes covered by thick, long eyelashes, not unlike your human body. Sweet, round face, body made more slender by the natural physiology of the Na’vi. It was you, but different.

“What, am I missing something interesting back at the center?” you puff softly in disbelief. “The only thing even remotely entertaining is watching David make a fool of himself again, and even that is getting boring.”

Margot smiles and tilts her head in agreement, crossing her arms over her chest as she says, “Well, you got me there.”

You puff lightly again, this time more in irritation than disbelief. Your arms fold in front of your chest, unconsciously mirroring Margot’s stance. “Really, what’s the point of even being here if we aren’t going to do anything that actually means something? I’m tired of sitting around and staring at the walls all the damn time. It’s been two months and we should be out there, doing what we came here for!”

Fierce annoyance at the RDA suddenly bubbles in your stomach and makes your fists clench. You were a scientist for Christ’s sake, you weren’t meant to just sit around and do fuck all for the rest of your life. You needed to be out in the world, feeling and breathing in nature and science. You’d go crazy if you didn’t do something soon.

You can’t wait until you’re out in Pandora, hearing the breeze ruffle the leaves of the trees. To hear the loud, overwhelming noise of rushing water from a natural waterfall and not a man-made construct. To actually see and experience nature in real life and not through a screen

It had only been three days since Miss Hall had mentioned your team’s first outing into the wilderness of Pandora, but she claims to have received no word from the RDA about when that would happen.

Soon, she promised, but soon could not come fast enough for you.

Margot sighs. “I know. This fucking sucks, but we’ll be out before we know it. And hey, take the time to enjoy the peace and quiet for now. We’ll be up to our tits in research and paperwork soon, and then you’ll be wishing for time off.”

She pops her hip into yours and you wobble to the side. The brief anger that controlled you flees just as fast as it had come. Your hands unclench and your arms fall to your sides.

“Yeah, that’s true. I guess.” You mutter the last two words grumpily, pouting just a little bit.

Margot laughs and uncrosses her arms to throw one around your shoulders.

“We’ll be alright.”

She tilts her head back just as you had a few moments ago, breathing in the sweet air deeply. Her next words are quiet, tinged with heavy melancholy.

“You know, I always wondered what the Earth was like before we came. Do you think there was rain like this?”

You look up at the gray sky yourself. While the color matched the clouds back on Earth, these would eventually dissipate, replaced by a strong, blazing light that warmed everything it touched.

The pollution clouds back home were there to stay.

You swallow. “Yeah. I think there was.”

------

A few hours later, just before the eclipse begins to bring darkness over Bridgehead, you lay your Avatar down to rest in the sleeping quarters and link back into your human body. You were in your Avatar for over six hours, which means you now have a persistent headache that pounds sharply at your temples, a growling stomach, and an irritatingly full bladder.

After relieving yourself and walking to the mess hall to stuff yourself full of sandwiches and coffee, you march back to your room. You lay on your back atop your stiff mattress, staring vacantly up at the blank white ceiling as you struggle to think of something that would entertain you.

When no miracle suggestion arrives in your brain, you huff and sit back up. As you do, you catch sight of something brightly colored laying on your desk, and a wonderful, awful idea pops into your head. You rise from your bed and pad over to your desk and carefully pick the small thing up, raising it closer to your face so you could look at the details.

It’s a simple little thing, about the size of your palm. Small blue strings of beads connect to a green, rock-like pendant, and on the top is a metal circle for attaching a chain or cord to it like a necklace. The Na’vi words of tihawnu and hafyonr were etched into the pendant.

Protection and wisdom.     

You’d spent hours on finding the right materials for creating it, marching all across Bridgehead. Then you’d spent hours modeling it.

You made it for Quaritch.

The Na’vi have many pieces of jewelry, clothing, headpieces, and other items they wear with pride, items that have great meaning to them. You got the idea to make it for Quaritch the day he left, as something to give him when he got back. You figured it would be nice for him to have something other than just your words, pictures, and videos about the Na’vi, something tangible that he could actually hold. It wasn’t an authentic piece of Na’vi culture, but it would do.

He's probably back by now. Maybe I should just take it to him.

You consider the thought just briefly before thinking, why not? Not like I’m very fucking busy at the moment.

With that you put your shoes back on, fix your hair, and then you’re walking out the door.

As you make your way toward Quaritch’s room, you begin to have second thoughts. It’s entirely possible he won’t even be back yet, still stuck in meetings. Or maybe he is back, but he laughs right in your face when you give him the pendent, calling you all the stupid and, frankly, uncreative little nicknames he has for you.

Nerves begin to invade as your mind goes over every possibility, your gut twisting. Your face begins to scrunch up in a tight frown, eyebrows furrowing as you scowl darkly at your feet as you walk.

It’s fine, if he doesn’t like it then he doesn’t have to wear it! I’ll take it back and give it to someone who appreciates what I do, like Margot. Maybe I’ll even give it to David!

You think for a moment before wincing, quickly discarding that idea. You’d rather throw it straight into the garbage than give it to David of all people. The asshole would probably just think you were coming onto him or some shit like that.

You arrive at his door much quicker than you hoped, stopping in front and taking another moment to smooth down your clothes and take a deep breath. Then you hesitantly raise your right fist and knock three times on the door. If you can even call it knocking; they’re more light taps than anything else.

When you hear no movement or any footsteps approach the door, you knock three more times, this time making sure it’s loud and clear to hear.

Still, no one opens the door.

Fine with me!

Just as you turn to leave, ridiculously relieved he wasn’t even there, a deep, loud voice booms out from behind you on the other side of the hallway.

“Hey!”

You startle, heart leaping into your throat as you whirl around with wide eyes.

Standing before you is a Recom Unit soldier, one you’ve never seen around Bridgehead before. He’s almost as tall as Quaritch, but not quite as muscled, more lean. While most of the other Recom members you’ve seen have their hair shaved fairly close to their scalps, his is almost long in comparison, even if it is only by a few inches. He’s covered in all kinds of tattoos, wearing the usual green tank top and camo shorts of his unit. The only thing unusual about him is the way he looks even younger than any of the other Recoms.

His wide eyes seem to sparkle as he eats up the remaining distance between you in just two long strides, standing before you with a sharp-toothed, youthful grin. He comes to a stop only a foot from you and you have to take another two steps back to see him correctly. Even then, you have to crank your head back.

“Oh! Uh, hi?” you say nervously. What the hell does this guy even want?

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you! I saw you knocking on Colonel Quaritch’s door. You gotta be Peach, right?” he asks. His smile doesn’t fade even a little bit as he talks.  

Your eyebrows rise in surprise before you can help yourself.

Peach? How the hell does this guy know about Quaritch’s little nickname for you? Quaritch can’t have mentioned you to his team in enough detail that they’d be able to spot you standing in a random hall, could he?

Your surprise must show on your face because his grin softens into something a little more genuine. That fierce sparkle never leaves his eyes, though.

“Must wonder how I know you, huh? Quaritch told us all about your little arrangement.”

…Really?

You can’t help your skepticism; you’d never have thought Quaritch would willingly admit to his Recombinants that he needed help with something, let alone help from a ‘science puke’.

The man laughs at the look on your face, eyes scrunching up at the corners. He leans his torso down just slightly to look you better in the eye before he says, “You know, he talks about you a lot. Well, a lot for a man like Quaritch. If you want, I can take you to see him.”

Your mind wavers, torn between being utterly bewildered at the thought of Quaritch talking about you, a lot, apparently, and between considering whether the effort of going with this random stranger to find Quaritch was even worth it.

Eventually, you sigh and nod your head reluctantly in agreement. It’d be much weirder if you backed down now. And besides, you’d already made all this effort. Might as well see it through.

“Uh, yeah, thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

The young man’s grin grows even sharper. He straightens up and sticks his hand out in greeting.

“Cool! My name’s Leo Williams, but you can just call me Williams. If you just follow me, I’ll take you right to the Colonel.”

You clasp his hand with your right hand as best you can, and your entire arm moves up and down with his force as he shakes you vigorously.

This guy is like an excited little puppy.

He releases your arm and then turns around back toward where he came from. He takes three long strides before you remember you’re supposed to be following after him, and you lurch toward his direction, walking quickly to reach him before he rounds the corner of the hallway.

You catch up to him just in time before he leaves your sight. You have to fast walk to keep up with his ridiculous pace, almost jogging at one point. Luckily for you, he seems to notice your predicament, and he slows down with a sheepish grin until you’re walking much easier. While your Avatar body was now in shape and could walk and run easily without even getting out of breath, your original body is defiantly not in such good condition. Especially with all the muffins and coffee you’ve been having these past two months to stave off the boredom.

You walk for a few more minutes before you gather the courage to squeak out, “What have you heard of me?”

“Oh, nothing all that interesting. Quaritch just likes to bitch about the lessons he has to take with you. ‘If you wanna find the Na’vi, you gotta think like the Na’vi’. You know, that kind of shit.” Williams laughs, tossing up air quotes as he mocks Quaritch’s deep voice and unique way of speech. He playfully rolls his eyes when he’s done, looking down at you and shooting you another grin.

“Oh.” You say simply, dejectedly. You scowl at the floor as you continue your path.

It was expected that he’d complain about it, but still. He could be less of a dick about it.

Now that you got him talking, Williams doesn’t shut up for the next twenty minutes. He leads you out of the building, across several busy platforms, and into another building you’ve never been in before. He chats all the while, seemingly about nothing of any importance. He only pauses a few times to let you respond to his questions or give your own opinion before he’s off again, talking about something completely different.

By the time you seemingly reach your destination, you are sorely missing Quaritch’s biting words. At least with him there were comfortable pauses of silence.

You both walk through the sliding glass doors and into a wide area, passing all sorts of massive workout machinery and equipment. Dumbbells the size of your torso litter the ground. Large mirrors reflect your image and the bright, fluorescent lights across the entire area, and you look at your reflection. Just as you thought, you look ridiculously small and insignificant walking next to the giant, bright blue Williams.

This must be the gym area for the Recom Unit. It looks like a playground for giants.

“Well, look who it is. Where the hell you been, Williams?” As you turn a corner, another Recom member pops out of nowhere, slowly setting down the jump ropes he’d been using. He’s panting a little bit, completely shirtless with dark, tattooed words and patterns across his arms, chest, and navel.

“Ah, sorry! I got a little distracted with some of the software I’ve been working on, took me a bit longer than I thought it would to finish. Then I ran into a little someone knocking on Quaritch’s door.” He looks down at you, grinning sheepishly.

Another one comes out of a room full of treadmills. She’s almost as tall as the men she comes to a stop in front of you. Just like the rest of the others you’ve seen, her arms and part of her upper chest are covered in tattoos. But while theirs had been dark and mostly black, hers are full of vibrant yellows, reds, purples, and blues. The colors stand out starkly against her bright blue skin, but the contrast is beautiful. Her hair is pulled back into almost a mohawk style, and she wore it well.

Her golden eyes pierce yours as she looks down at you. Her mouth pulls up into a skeptical sneer.

You suddenly realize you’re completely surrounded by three massive, tattoo-covered, insanely muscular humanoids who excel in combat and are total strangers to you. You can easily admit to yourself that you’re intimidated. Not because you fear for your safety or anything, but because you can only dream about becoming as good as these guys. Only the best of the best can be a part of Quaritch’s team; you know he expects nothing less.

They tower over you by several feet, and you feel like a tiny mouse caught by three giant cats.

Your already fast heartbeat picks up in your chest and you can feel a cold sweat trying to break out on your body. Your face burns from the intense attention you suddenly find yourself the center of. If you had known this would have happened when you knocked on Quaritch’s door, you would have said fuck it and booked it out of there as fast as you could. You’re not afraid, but goddamn are you nervous right now. You really, really want to make a good impression on these people. You’re nowhere near their skill level, and you really wish you were in your Avatar. At least then you’d have some level on them, even if it was minuscule. And you wouldn’t feel so small.

The woman seems to notice your increasing nerves, but thankfully she doesn’t point it out to make fun. Instead, her smirk grows wider and her eyes sharpen.

“What’s this little pipsqueak doing with a knucklehead like you, huh, Williams?” The woman asks, crossing her arms over her chest. The motion causes her biceps to bulge under her tattoos, and she pops her bright pink bubblegum as she scans your body up and down. Her eyebrow raises, expectantly waiting for an answer.

You swallow and lift a hand in a quick nervous wave. You introduce yourself by your first name and weakly say, “Uh, hi! I’m just here for Quaritch, I’ve got something for him.”

“‘Here for Quaritch’, huh?” The woman snickers. She looks you over again slower and much more obviously, this time with less of a calculative look and more of something with a strange gleam in her eye. She smirks when she meets your wide-eyed gaze again, before she loudly says, “You must be Peach.”

Goddamnit! I might as well change that to my permanent name at this point!

Your lips thin, but you manage to laugh weakly and mutter, “Yeah, guess that’s me.”

“Hm. Well, it’s about time you met some of the unit, given that Colonel Quaritch is the head of our team. My name’s Z-Dog,” she pops her gum for emphasis, smug smile never leaving her face, “This asshole here is Lopez. He’s a quiet guy, you won’t be hearing much from him.”

Z-Dog smacks a hand across Lopez’s back, and the cracking sound of her hand making contact with his bare skin and the sheer force of the hit makes you wince. If she ever hit you with even half of that strength, you’d have a dark bruise spanning your entire back for at least a month.

Lopez doesn’t even seem to feel it, though, not even moving an inch from the force or grimacing. Instead, he just rolls his eyes at Z-Dog’s words and starts rubbing his hands with a nearby towel.

You have to wonder if hitting each other isn’t just a Quaritch thing, but something the Recom Unit as a whole just likes to do.

Lopez looks you over in the same considering way Williams and Z-Dog had. While you had been able to figure out at least a little bit of their thoughts, Lopez is a blank slate, expression stoic. His yellow eyes simply flick over you once before returning your gaze.

“And you obviously already met Williams. You need to watch your things when he’s around, the little shit likes to nick stuff when you aren’t paying attention.” She glares pointedly at Williams, who laughs guiltily but nods his head in agreement.

“Hey, I only take the things you aren’t going to be using! And I give them back eventually, you gotta admit that.”

Z-Dog scoffs and rolls her eyes but relents and turns her attention back to you. She tilts her head in consideration as she stares down at you. Her smirk grows salacious.

“So. You got something for Quaritch, huh? Can we see it?” The tone of her voice as she speaks makes it seem as though she doesn’t really think you have anything to show her.

Why else would I be here for Quaritch if I didn’t have something to say or give him?

“Couldn’t you have waited and given it to him tomorrow morning? Don’t you guys have your little, uh, lessons, then?” Z-Dog snickers and adjusts her hips just slightly enough for it to be suggestive. Lopez rolls his eyes and elbows her hard in the side of her stomach, but you can see his own small, crude smirk. Williams looks like he’s barely able to hold in his own laugh, rubbing at his jaw and flushing a light lilac.

No way.

You barely keep from gasping and clutching at your neck like you have pearls, but only just. If you had thought your face was red before, it’s nothing compared to the fire that spreads through your cheeks, ears, and all the way down your chest. Embarrassment and surprise are shockwaves through your limbs.

They totally think we’re fucking! Oh my god! Why?!

Their insinuations were not at all subtle, probably trying to get a reaction from you.

God, these fuckers are just like Quaritch.

You swallow thickly, dignity and pride fleeing from you quickly. They must think you’re some sort of pet for Quaritch, dropping everything to come when he calls. They think your lessons and training sessions are just when you and Quaritch-when you and Quaritch-

Oh, this is so humiliating! Why can’t they just act like grownups and not middle school boys! They’re making fun of you!

The overwhelming embarrassment coursing through you lights an angry fire in your stomach. Your fists clench at your sides, eyebrows furrowing.

“No, I can’t show it to you because it’s confidential, and I know that Quaritch does not like to be kept waiting, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll be heading to him now.” The snap doesn’t come out as aggressive as you wanted it to, but the point gets across.

Z-Dog keeps snickering but relents, throwing her hands up. “Alright pipsqueak, we were just making fun. Williams will take you to him, don’t worry your pretty little head.”

Your anger blows away like smoke and you blink, relaxing your fists.

Well, that was easy.

“Besides, wouldn’t want to keep Quaritch waiting for his girl any longer, huh?”

Never mind.

You scowl but let it go. She’s just poking at you, trying to see how long it’ll take for you to blow. Just like Quaritch, really.

You turn your frown into a tight smile. “Thanks for your help.”

Z-Dog scans your face for anything else she can use to make you angry, before sighing deeply. She crosses her arms over her chest once more, and her smirk becomes just slightly more genuine.

“You know, I think I kind of like you, almost as much as the Colonel does. Guess we’ll see you around. Maybe you’ll meet more of the squad soon.” Z-Dog shoots you one last smirk. Lopez rolls his eyes at her again but gives you a tiny nod goodbye, and then they’re off, sauntering out of the room and toward the front of the gym with not a care in the world.

“Nice meeting you, Peach.” She tosses a peace sign over her shoulder before she’s out of your view.

You watch them go, stunned that this little conversation had even taken place. You really, really hope they weren’t off to tell the rest of the team about the stupid little human woman that was on her way to meet with Quaritch in private and wouldn’t even tell them why. That would be the last thing you need. Clearly, they already think something else is going on, and you don’t want to give them any more fuel than they already have to make fun. Are they as bored as you are and the only thing they can do to entertain themselves is sitting around gossiping like a bunch of old ladies?!

God, you can’t imagine what Quaritch must have said or done that got them all even thinking about this!

You’re jolted out of your concerned thoughts when Williams gently places a hand on your back.

“You ready to go, Peach?” he asks lightly.

You turn around and glare up at him, clearly still a little miffed about what just happened and the way he had laughed at your expense.

He has the shame to wince a little bit. “Yeah, sorry about that. The team can get a little…rowdy, when they’re bored.”

You stare at him harshly for a moment longer before sighing and nodding your head in acquiescence. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t something all that serious anyways.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Forgiven, Williams grins in relief before pushing you forward, his palm still in contact with your back.

“Quaritch should be right over in the weights section of the gym! He likes to spend a lot of time over there. I think it’s just something for him to do when he’s not ranting about Jake Sully and the Na’vi.”

He leads you deeper into the gym and up a flight of stairs before turning left.

“You know, I think he likes working out more than he likes the team, and-”

But the rest of Williams's sentence is drowned out, muted in your ears, because in front-in front of you is-

Oh…my god. Oh my god. Jesus. Fucking Christ.

Your thoughts, your concerns, your nervousness, it all drifts away and into the wind with nary an attempt to pull them back. Your mind goes blissfully blank, all too eager to focus on the sight in front of you.

Quaritch grunts and lifts his arms, raising a bar attached to a ridiculous number of weights. His sharp teethed are clenched, and for the first time, you actually see sweat heavily beaded on his face and chest.

And the real kicker, the thing that knocks your breath straight from your chest, is the fact that he’s shirtless.

You gape at the wide expanse of muscled, deep blue skin that’s proudly on display in front of you. Sweat glistens on his taught stomach, and his biceps bulge as he lifts the bar a few more times before setting it on the ledge. He pants for breath, pink tongue peeking out and tracing the line of his bottom lip.

He looks debauched.

Warmth blossoms deep in your stomach.

Williams’s constant stream of babble slowly filters back into your ears, and you blink. You hadn’t even noticed that your eyes had begun to burn from the time you had been staring at Quaritch, completely uninterrupted, not even blinking once.

You swallow thickly and struggle to break free of your trance. Even then, you don’t tear your eyes away from Quaritch. Luckily, Williams is too focused on his own talking to care much about where you are looking.

Everything that has led to this moment has been so, so worth it.

Quaritch sits up, still breathing deeply, grabs a gray towel from the ground laying next to him, and uses it to wipe the sweat from his face. After he’s satisfied with that, he runs the towel over his chest and down toward his navel. The towel brushes the edge of his shorts, going under by just a centimeter.

You nearly swallow your tongue.

“…and even then, I definitely didn’t think he was going to be able to fit the whole thing in the helicarrier-oh hey, boss!”

Williams jolts out of his speech, lifting an exciting hand to wave at Quaritch even though he’s just on the other side of the room.

Quaritch finishes wiping the sweat from his body, face set in its usual neutral expression as he turns to look towards William’s loud voice. His yellow eyes flick several feet down from Williams's beaming face to your own. You don’t even know what your face looks like at this point; nervous, blank, or ridiculously dazed. You’re praying for blank.

Quaritch’s eyebrow raises when he sees you, surprise stretching over his face before it settles into the regular slow, sly grin he seems to favor. He lowers the towel and turns fully to face you.

Williams pushes you forward as he marches closer to Quaritch. His hand is still pressed against your back, as though you’re about to take this chance to run away.

Quaritch notices Williams’s proximity to you. His eyes seem to darken and he glares at him, teeth clenching once more. He stands from the workout equipment he had been using, and he even seems to tower over Williams’s lean form, let alone your own.

Williams notices Quaritch’s glare and jerks his arm away from you guiltily. Quaritch’s tense expression relaxes just a little bit.  

“Hey boss, looks like something sweet is here for you!”

“I can see that, kid. A peach, just for me?” Quaritch grins slyly.

You think you’ve set a new record for the number of times a person can blush in a day. Your already flushed face burns brighter at his words. The amount of heat radiating off of them is insane, and the overwhelming scent of Quaritch’s sweat is… strange. It’s not as sharp and pungent as human sweat, no, it’s almost sort of…sweet, like the rain you had smelled earlier.

Yeah, something sweet with an underlying hint of tartness, like citrus or lemon.

Whatever it is, it’s fucking good. You wonder if all members of the Recom Unit, all the ones stuck in their Avatar bodies, smell as good as he does. You hadn’t smelled anything from Z-Dog and Lopez, but they hadn’t been sweating as much as Quaritch.

You remember when you first met up with him while in your Avatar body, the way his rainwater and coffee smell nearly had you losing your mind. If that’s what it’s going to be like if you meet others of the Recom Unit while in your Avatar, you’re going to have to avoid them forever so you don’t embarrass yourself.

Why the fuck does Quaritch always smell so good?! What kind of body wash is he using, and where can I get some?

Your lips press together before you smile hesitantly and reply,

“Ha. Yep, it’s me. I just, uh, I just came to give you a-”

You choke and cut yourself off before you can finish your sentence.

I can’t fucking say I’m here to give Colonel Quaritch what’s practically a fucking friendship pendant! He’d kill me!

You cough lightly and resume your sentence, hoping nobody noticed your pause. “I have something for you?” It comes out more of a squeaky question than a statement.

But Quaritch doesn’t make fun of your voice like you thought he would, for once not rising to the easy bait. Instead, he simply raises another eyebrow and repeats, slowly, like you’re an idiot, “Something?”

Williams wiggles his eyebrows again as he looks down at you, mouth opening quickly to say something you know you won’t like. Quaritch notices and glowers at him before snapping, “That’ll be all, soldier.”

Williams closes his mouth with a click and holds his hands up in mock defeat as he backs away from you and Quaritch. His sharp smile stretches across his face boyishly and he makes finger guns at you while saying, “Bye, Peach!”

You and Quaritch watch Williams’s lean form leave the weights area via the sliding glass door. Neither of you speaks until the door slides all the way shut again, leaving only silence.

He sighs deeply, as though he has all the weight of the world on him just because you came to see him. It makes you scowl.

“Alrigh’, Peach. What’s so important you couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” He crosses his arms over his chest. You struggle to keep your eyes on his face and not on his bare skin. He’s so tall that it makes that simple task so hard, because all you want to do is just look down slightly, and he probably wouldn’t even be able to tell you were ogling him.

You open your mouth and suddenly find your brain devoid of words.

Quaritch groans and tosses his head back in exasperation before he grabs a hold of your right upper arm. He leads you over to the steep staircase you had struggled up when Williams lead you to Quaritch, and gestures for you to stay at the top. You follow his command, albeit confused, and he takes a few steps down the platform. His height shrinks just a little bit

He stands just a little bit away from you, but now you don’t have to crane your neck to look up at him and he doesn’t have to look down at you so far. You’re still much shorter than him, but still, it’s much better. 

You’re surprised he even bothered; the past times you had spoken to him while in your human form, he had used your height difference to intimidate you, scare you into helping him. This was a surprisingly kind gesture. You're also astounded he hadn't just made you stand on a stool like a toddler. 

You grin at him, entirely too warm-faced.

He notices and scoffs. “I just didn’t want to have to bend down and break my damn back to talk to you, is all.” There’s another brief pause before he snaps,

“Well? I don’t have all damn day.”

Before you lose the meager amount of courage you had mustered in your heart, you gingerly take the green pendant from your pocket and lifted it between your bodies. It’s grasped tightly in your hand, your fingers clenched around it before you loosen your grip.

Your stomach tightens before you can speak, butterflies erupting deep in your gut. You can already feel your face blushing. Your eyes flutter down to the ground before you can stop yourself, just so you don’t have to see whatever unpleasant expression will come over Quaritch’s face.

You reach over and grab Quaritch’s hand as best you can, lifting his arm. Surprisingly, he lets you. You carefully press the pendant into his blue palm, fingers tingling when they brush against his. Your hands linger together for just a moment too long for it to be casual before you quickly move away with an awkward cough. You swallow thickly, opening your mouth hesitantly before you quietly say,

“I made this for you. It’s just a pendant. The Na’vi believe that the word on it brings protection and wisdom. I know it’s not really authentic, given that it was made by a human and out of materials found around Bridgehead, but I just figured you might want something physical to go along with our lessons. Just so it isn’t only my words and the pictures I show you, I don’t know.” You babble on and on, too afraid to stop talking.  

You lift your eyes hesitantly to look at him, gaze flickering across his face quickly to take in his thoughts. His face is blank, but there is a look in his eyes. Confusion, perhaps, or maybe disbelief? There’s a slight furrowing of his eyebrows, but he doesn’t immediately scoff or make fun of you like you thought he would.

“…For me?”

He slowly lifts his arm, as if expecting you to leap backward and laugh in his face. He brings the pendant closer to his face to examine it.

“I dunno, I just thought you might like to have something kind of from them, just to, uh, really put yourself in their mindset, I guess. You don’t actually have to wear it or anything, I just figured you might want to look at it? But yeah, I made it for you.”

Your voice trails off near the end of your sentence, becoming quieter and quieter until you’re almost whispering. Your shoulders lower in on yourself and you grasp your left wrist in your hand in front of your body, quietly putting your head down and looking at the floor.

A few seconds pass in tense silence. When Quaritch makes no sound and doesn’t move a muscle, you discreetly raise your head slightly and take a peek at his face. Your fists clench tightly and your stomach drops when you see his expression remains stoic, eyebrows lowered and eyes filled with an emotion you simply cannot name.

Stupid, stupid! This was a bad idea! He hates the Na’vi, why would you even make something that you knew he wouldn’t even-

Quaritch clears his throat and your head shoots up fully to meet his eyes with your own wide, too-hopeful ones. You imagine you look like a sad, stupid little girl, but you just can’t help yourself. Every time you talk with him, you always seem to forget yourself, say and do and feel more than you should.

He stares down at you, eyes boring into yours. You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

“Thank you.”

The words are spoken so softly you barely hear them, but they’re enough to make the tension release its hold on and sweet relief and warmth bloom in your chest.

He accepted it, he didn’t even throw it back in your face!

You relax, shoulders relaxing. A deep, unbidden sigh leaves your mouth before you can help yourself. You beam up at him, happy eyes suddenly scrunching up slightly from the force of your smile, face surely alight with joy. You suddenly feel ridiculously delighted.

Oh. I’m so glad I did this.

Quaritch looks surprised at your obvious reaction, and his bright yellow eyes soften. Unknown emotion flickers across his face before it’s gone in a flash and even more surprise takes over. His ears flick twice on the sides of his head.

He returns your smile almost hesitantly. His eyes are still stunning and they almost glow, even in the bright lights of the gym center.

He looks the most unsure and taken aback you’ve ever seen him, but his smile. Oh, the smile is so different from his usual sly smirks or smug grins.

This smile is genuine and small and sweet.

He looks so pretty.

Your chest clenches and you swallow hard. Your heart begins to pound, breath coming quickly. A tight, overwhelming urge to move, to do something vividly overcomes you. Your hands twitch at your sides, your feet shuffle an inch closer. You can’t help the way your eyes drift down to his soft-looking lips just once before quickly snapping back to Quaritch’s gaze.

Even on the steps he’s so much taller than I am right now. Maybe-Maybe I could get him to lower himself down so I could kiss him-

Your eyes pop wide and you almost gasp, viscously jerked straight out of your vivid thoughts as you realize what you’d been thinking. That wonderful, fuzzy feeling of warmth that clouded your thoughts abruptly pops, and you’re left in the unrelenting grip of cold, unfeeling reality.

Holy shit!

You jerk back a step with a quick breath and break the fierce eye contact you had been holding with Quaritch for an unknown time. It could have been seconds or minutes, you don’t even know anymore.

It seems you weren’t the only one lost in the moment. The second you step back the spell is broken, and Quaritch jerks back in the same manner you had. You hadn’t even realized he had been leaning closer as well, muscles just as tense as yours, chest frozen still as though he wasn’t breathing.

Even now, even though he had moved back, he refuses to look away from you. You clear your throat loudly and smooth an unsteady hand over your pristine, unwrinkled shirt, and you can feel his intense yellow eyes burning into the side of your face.

The both of you remain still, neither one wanting to make the first move of shifting backward or forwards.

Eventually, Quaritch takes a step closer into your bodily space. The smell of him becomes even stronger, and you can’t help the way you breathe it in deeply one last time, mind unwillingly going fuzzy, before holding your breath. You’re frozen, unable to move as he hovers over you.

You find the courage to finally look up from the ground to return his intense gaze. The sight that meets you stuns you, makes your heart thunder in your chest.

The warmth from earlier returns with a vengeance, swirling down deep in your stomach. A pulse begins to pound between your legs, and you shift as unnoticeable as you can.

Quaritch’s eyes are dark and burning, and you’re locked in, helpless now. You can’t move even as he lowers his head down to yours, and for one thrilling moment, you think he’s going to press his lips against yours. Your mouth tingles just from the thought. You want to close your eyes, but your brain refuses.

Instead of kissing you, a large hand gently presses a soft thumb against the tender, sensitive skin of your pink bottom lip.

You gasp, gaze lowering and cheeks burning. Your breath comes quick, fluttering against his hand as your chest rises and falls. If someone saw you now, they would think you looked just as debauched as you thought Quaritch looked earlier, cheeks rosy and eyes glossed over.

He consumes every angle of your view. He overwhelms your senses so much that the only thing you can feel is him, think is him.

His thumb presses closer, so close to touching your tongue, and you just can’t take it anymore.

Your pink little tongue brushes against his skin, taking a taste before darting away just as fast as it dared, but it's too late.  

Quaritch hisses between his sharp clenched teeth, long and strained, and your eyes dart back up to his face. Your heart jolts when you realize he’s enjoying this as much as you are, as tempted as you are. His pupils are massive, leaving only a ring of gold. Tension and, god, desire battle on his face.  

“You know, Peach, I’m not sure how much of this I can handle before I take what I want.” The words are tense, whispered through clamped teeth, and you want, oh how badly you want to give in, to smash your lips to his. But there’s something that warns you in the back of your head, something that hisses that once he’s had you he’ll abandon you. You’re just a new, shiny little toy that he’ll fuck and be done with. You won’t matter to him if you sleep with him.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Against everything, all your instincts, all the voices, all your gut says, you like Quaritch. You like spending time with him, like the way his eyes crinkle whenever he laughs, like the way he teases you. You like his curled smile, like how hard he always seems to make you laugh, the way your skin tingles whenever you touch, the way he gets adorably frustrated when he fumbles a Na’vi word, the way he never lets you give up, even when you’re exhausted. You could go on and on and on.

You want to matter to him. He's important to you now. 

The reality hits you hard. You have feelings for Quaritch. 

So far on Pandora, Quaritch has been the main person that has kept you sane. Margot is a blessing, but what you feel for Quaritch is so different. Yes, he can be a massive dick sometimes, and yes, he has a very strange, almost obsessive hatred toward certain people. There are a lot of bad things you can say about him, but it’s the small, almost unnoticeable, kind things he does for you. Just being in his presence makes you stupidly pleased.

Maybe it’s just you turning crazy from being on an alien planet, bored, and suddenly having a whirlwind of chaos crashing into your life. Maybe it’s from spending hours together every day for months, pressed up against one another and fighting and learning and teaching. Seeing rare little parts of one another that no one else seems to see. You’ve shown him vulnerability, and he’s shown it to you as well, in his own way. You highly doubt he’s walking around brushing eyelashes from other people’s cheeks or thanking them so softly when they give him things.

You really, really like him.

And you don’t want to ruin that.

So, you shift back.

It’s just an inch, barely more than a centimeter, but it makes all the difference. Suddenly, you can breathe again.

Air rushes into your lungs, and the world around you seems to shift and open up. It’s not just you and Quaritch standing on a staircase, lost in one another. The sound of the overhead fan filters into your ears, and cool air brushes against your cheeks. Your fuzzy head clears, and the tenseness in your body fades as you relax, resolute in your decision.

You want, oh how you want, but it’s just too soon. If you slept together and things ended badly, whatever you had with Quaritch would be ruined, and you’d spend the rest of your life avoiding him.

You want Quaritch to be in your life, god help you.

So you’ll wait, until you’re sure he actually, fully cares about you. Until you’re sure he isn’t just playing with you, isn’t just wanting to fuck you because you’re something new.

And if that never happens, then fuck it, you’re fine being friends with him until he gets bored.

You open your eyes you hadn’t even realized you shut and look up. Quaritch is already looking at you. His eyes are still mostly black, and he surprises you when he speaks.  

“You’re testing my patience, Peach.” The words are supposed to convey annoyance, but his tone is as gentle and understanding as you’ve ever heard it. You’d had no idea he could sound like that.

Fondness strikes you hard.  

You stretch your arm over the steps and reach up as high as you can, standing on your tiptoes. Your fingers barely brush against the soft skin of his right cheek. Just for a second, Quaritch leans down until your hand can better encompass his face. He tilts his head and leans into you, yellow eyes looking like warm, melted butter. His desire still burns there, but it’s faded into something almost tender, and it makes your heart swell.

You realize that maybe Quaritch doesn’t want to lose your tentative, fragile little relationship either.  

He’s always surprising me.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Quaritch.” You whisper softly. You stroke his face one last time before dropping your arm.

“…See you tomorrow, Peach.” He says, just as quietly as you before he leans back.

You look into his eyes one last time, and then step to the side and walk past him. You hear him turn to watch you go.

“Hey, Peach?”

You turn around as you make it so the bottom of the stairs, hands in your jean pockets. Quaritch stands higher up than ever before, and a wide expanse of stairs separates you.

“…Thanks again.” He lifts his arm, and you can see the flash of green of your pendant clutched gently in his large blue hand.

You smile. “Of course, Quaritch.”

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