Chapter Text
Prompt: Could you write a Drabble where Illya and Gabby have to talk or show their true feelings about each other? Please
- ONCE-UPON-A-HORSE-AND-A-TIMELORD
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She was upset with him. Again. He’d lost his temper after Vasilescu had put a hand on her and he’d firmly broken it. Had almost assuredly, in turn, broken their cover because of it. This would be a dead end. Because of him.
Solo was trying to pick up the pieces of their shattered operation by exploring another in they’d had. Which left Illya and Gaby alone in the hotel room. She was pacing.
She was angry.
“You can’t keep doing that,” she chastised, pulling a vodka bottle from the shelf, but she didn’t set to pouring a drink yet. Only kept it in her hand.
“He should not have touched you,” he drawled.
Gaby turned, holding her hand out to the side. It had been a slap and it hadn’t even left a mark. “You knew that was a possibility going in. I was ready, I can take it, you know. There are things that need to be done when we’re on assignments and-…”
“You are not ready for this.”
“I’m not?” she asked, tipping her head slightly at him. “Or you’re not?” Illya kept quiet, a thin line to his lips, that blue stare averting to the side. How did she know how to cut so deep? With a sigh, Gaby set the bottle back down on the shelf. She walked over and stood in front of him, her chin tipped back so she could look up at his face.
“I did not like that he put his hand on you,” Illya told her, his voice low. “He is lucky I did not cut it off.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need you to protect me.” She stood her ground, reaching to take his wrists. Bloodied knuckles. Because of her. “If it were Solo, in that situation – wouldn’t you have trusted him to take care of himself?”
The answer was simple in words alone. “You are not Solo.”
A moment passed between them, a slow breath leaving her. “Well, I don’t want you to protect me,” she told him, the words ice stabbing at the silence on his face. There was question, rejection passing behind his eyes and she pulled at his wrists. “I want you…to kiss me. And then let me do my job.”
For a moment, she didn’t know if she’d gotten through to him. But the corner of his lip curled upwards, ever so slightly. “I am not so good at the first.”
“No doubt,” she told him. “But you’ll learn.”