It's harder on her, harder just off being on a ship for months and months. He remembers that. Which only means the way she smiles, and the determined set to her shoulders when they aren't shifting with her weight or for a breath, kicks up even high in the glow of the workout shoving itself wide and warm through all of his skin. The flush running, like a glow, under her skin, shiny in the sun from moisture.
The way her smile doesn't waver, and she throws his bare level of concern back at his head, like he's babying her.
Something he really might consider doing with anyone else, but it's not something that comes to mind with Cath. At least not in this kind of situation. Or much of any, seeing as he called on her days ago, to do a job, not in ranking and she did it perfectly. For him. Which is far from any kind of consideration right now. The things he wouldn't call on her for. Far away. When she's breathless, beautiful and smacking at the bar.
And all he can do is laugh and grin, like there's nothing better in the whole world. Than the rush of his own blood, the tug to go faster, rung harder, push into that place where it feels like he's pushing hard enough until it feels like something might snap from exertion. When he's gesturing to his chest with one hand and pushing his eyebrows upward, "Oh, you don't feel challenged enough, Rollins?"
"Let's go," is louder, almost followed by double time, when he's not going to give her longer than the maybe four-five seconds since she got to the end after those words. Taking off for the path beyond the railway bridge. Flat for only a short while before it's going to start climbing straight up again. When he's definitely putting more into it. Both the run it self, that goes straight from stand still, and makes an effort to stay ahead of her a bit now.
Attacking the first stairs like they might be actual springboards, taking the momentum from each one to shave half seconds.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-01-27 05:12 pm (UTC)The way her smile doesn't waver, and she throws his bare level of concern back at his head, like he's babying her.
Something he really might consider doing with anyone else, but it's not something that comes to mind with Cath. At least not in this kind of situation. Or much of any, seeing as he called on her days ago, to do a job, not in ranking and she did it perfectly. For him. Which is far from any kind of consideration right now. The things he wouldn't call on her for. Far away. When she's breathless, beautiful and smacking at the bar.
And all he can do is laugh and grin, like there's nothing better in the whole world. Than the rush of his own blood, the tug to go faster, rung harder, push into that place where it feels like he's pushing hard enough until it feels like something might snap from exertion. When he's gesturing to his chest with one hand and pushing his eyebrows upward, "Oh, you don't feel challenged enough, Rollins?"
"Let's go," is louder, almost followed by double time, when he's not going to give her longer than the maybe four-five seconds since she got to the end after those words. Taking off for the path beyond the railway bridge. Flat for only a short while before it's going to start climbing straight up again. When he's definitely putting more into it. Both the run it self, that goes straight from stand still, and makes an effort to stay ahead of her a bit now.
Attacking the first stairs like they might be actual springboards, taking the momentum from each one to shave half seconds.