Some headcanons - all set (and written) directly after each episode. Started with episode 5 of season 2. Some episodes have multiple chapters. Chapter length will vary. Various ships and relationships will be explored as inspiration strikes.

Rated K+.

Clay returns home and Stella looks after him (and Sonny) post mission.

Say Again Your Last

Clay walked into his apartment rubbing his chest absently. Early morning light was starting to stream into the living room. Stella was sprawled out on the couch - her laptop was open, but dark, on the coffee table - and surrounded by books and stacks of papers.

Writing or grading.

Her hair was a wild tangle criss crossed over her face. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts and a pair of sweatpants with NAVY down the side.

Clay leaned against the wall by the door, just watching her chest rise and fall. He dropped his go-bag on the floor. The noise didn't pierce Stella's slumper. He smiled - she must have been exhausted then.

With careful steps Clay navigated through her whirlwind of graduate life to stoop down beside the couch. Stella 'hmmed' as he pushed hair away from her face. She curled inwards, instinctively moving closer to him.

It was no real effort to pick her up. Stella was light, easily cradled in his arms. The real trick was navigating back out of her maze without tripping.

Stella murmured in her sleep as he set her down on the bed. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, her hand came up to his chest.

"You're back," her eyes closed, her hand dropped back to the mattress. A smile spread across her face.

Clay swallowed, kissed her forehead, "Yeah. I'm back." He pulled the blanket over her body and walked towards the bathroom.

The cool water of the shower felt like icicles slicing through his chest. He grimaced, ducked his head under the spray. Trent's order to alternate ice and heat echoed in his head: did cold showers count as icing it?

When he walked back into the bedroom Clay found Stella sprawled out on her back, blanket tangled around her waist. He didn't bother with a shirt before crawling in beside her. Stella turned to curl into his side - kissed his shoulder without even opening her eyes.

"You have a bruise the size of a plate on your chest," Stella murmured against his skin as Clay pulled her against him.

He chuckled, fingers slipping into her hair, "I'm fine. Ice. Heat. Nothing special." She 'hmmed' against his chest. Clay slipped into sleep - Stella's warmth spreading across his flesh and her breathing a quiet lullaby.

Three hours later Stella stumbled, bleery-eyed, into the kitchen. 8 am had come much sooner than she would like, especially when it was succeeded by a text from Gordon cancelling their meeting.

"No, its fine," Stella grumbled as she yanked open the refrigerator, "It's not like a spent all night finishing that chapter for you to read." There were no leftovers in the fridge. Just milk, beer, and eggs.

A ragged thumping came from the front door. Stella startled, jumping at least a foot in the air and holding a hand to her chest. Then her brain reminded her that Clay was asleep and she was skidding across the room to open it.

"Stella!" Sonny greeted her, wide grin and heavy circles under his eyes, "Can Blondie come out to play?" Stella shook her head at him, hiding a smile behind her palm.

"He's asleep, Sonny," she nodded her head towards the bedroom he couldn't see. But she stepped back from the door, "Want some breakfast?"

Sonny entered with a tip of his head, removing his hat and jacket as Stella walked back to the kitchen.

"My advisor canceled on me and I have no leftovers," Stella talked over her shoulder, keeping her voice light. Sonny leaned against the island - looking altogether like a dusty outlaw who'd just lost a fight with John Wayne. "So, eggs or pancakes?"

"Now, Stella," Sonny smirked down at her as he pulled a stool out, "We both know the answer to that question."

She shook her head at him again, smiling openly this time.

"Both."

Stella offered him a beer as she pulled supplies out. Sonny took it and immediately swallowed down half the bottle before she had set down the carton of eggs.

"So why'd the professor cancel?" Sonny diverted from her pointed look. Stella grabbed a pack of bacon from the freezer. Sonny's lips quirked into a smike at the addition.

"Apparently," Stella drew out the word as the bacon began to defrost in the microwave. She moved around the kitchen in rough, jerky motions, "One of his undergrads requested an emergency meeting about the midterm."

Sonny raised an eyebrow as pancake mix was plopped into a bowl, "That code for something?"

Stella's smile was sharp and gritted. Sonny took a swig of his beer at the very sight. "The midterm is tomorrow. I'm the one who grades it, and this student hasn't shown up to section since the first day." Sonny nodded along as Stella whipped the battered together, "If he wants an emergency meeting, it should be with the admin office to beg for an exception to the drop deadline."

The batter was light and fluffy from Stella's ~attentive~ stirring. Sonny eyed the griddle in her hand warily, "Student's playin' kiss ass, huh?"

"Frat kid," Stella rolled her eyes, "I hate when people fulfill stereotypes." She gestured with the griddle before placing it on the stove, "Scrambled or Fried?"

"Eithers fine." Sonny leaned back in his chair, "So, why's the ass kisser gettin' you all riled up?"

Stella ducked her head, chuckling, "The ass kisser is the least of my worries. I'm meant to be finishing my dissertation by May, which is hard to do when my advisor is ducking the critiques last minute."

Sonny had no earthly idea what half that meant, and no real desire to parce that half out either, "Prof's not pulling his side of the bargain?" Stella nodded, "Want me to kick his ass for ya?"

The bark of laughter that escaped Stella's lips was loud and sharp. She immediately clasped a hand over her mouth, cheeks red with mirth as Sonny grinned. She slapped his shoulder with her free hand.

"Sonny Quinn," Stella warned, taking his empty beer bottle to gesture with, "Behave yourself." She gave him another beer as she went about frying bacon in a pan beside two eggs. Sonny kept on grinning.

It was only a few minutes later before the scent of bacon drew Clay in to the room. He scrunched his eyebrows together at Sonny, "Wha-"

"Stella here offered me breakfast," Sonny stole a piece of bacon off the small pile that Stella had just deposited on a plate. She slapped at his hand. "I've decided to steal her away from you."

Clay glared at him, wrapping an arm around Stella's waist as she kissed his cheek.

"I found her first," Clay watched from over her shoulder as Stella moved eggs and pancakes onto a plate.

She slid it across the counter to Sonny and turned her head to look at Clay, "Didn't you say Brian pointed me out to you?" Sonny laughed and slapped his hand on the counter.

"Well, yeah, but he was too slow," Clay squeezed his arm around her lightly, "I know quality when I see it."

"Good answer," Stella bopped him on the nose and turned back to the stove. Two more eggs were cracked and salted. "Guess that trip to Vegas will have to wait, Sonny."

Sonny made a scene of placing his hand on his heart, "Damn. Sideswiped again." Clay smiled into the crook of Stella's neck.

"No remorse," Clay stuck his tongue out at Sonny and stole a strip of bacon off his plate before the man could stop him.

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