A/N: This is just a short story I wanted to write based off of some headcanons I have about the sleeping habits of the core members of Blue Team...with dash of my favorite pairing thrown in. Once again this story is set (with permission) within the main canon/timeline of Firerwolf's series: 'Spartan Love'. So if you want some extra context for this piece you should definitely go read their stories (and if not you should still go read them anyway because they're great). I'm really inexperienced at writing so any and all constructive comments/critiques are welcome. Thanks! :)

Sublight engines thrummed as the vessel they powered cruised through slipspace. The frigate was fortunate enough to have escaped the battle in one piece. Its interior systems were still fully functional, and the exterior damage wasn't so bad that it wouldn't be able to arrive safely to a UNSC harbor. Without much to do, the ancillary crew had settled in to their assigned quarters for a brief respite until the ship docked at its next destination - which wouldn't be for a few more hours.

Not all aboard the ship were resting comfortably, however. In a small, cramped room that would've normally been used for storage, four cots were arranged in two rows of two. And the unusually tall people occupying them made the space seem even smaller by comparison. This ship wasn't well equipped to handle Spartan-IIs and their gear, but at least it had the proper heavy-lifting apparatuses needed to remove their suits of MJOLNIR Armor. The members of Blue Team would report for debriefing and schedule equipment repairs once they reached their next outpost. But for now they had been dismissed to these accommodations in a remote section of the ship. So as not to "stir up a fuss" (as the Captain had put it) among the other soldiers on board.

The overhead lights had long since been shut down. The only thing keeping the room from being pitch black was the soft blue glow of the lights on the electronic keypad by the door. Not that that really mattered to Spartan-087, her enhanced vision allowed her to see everything around her quite clearly. She blinked tiredly as she fidgeted in her too-small bed. Moments from her team's last mission kept replaying over and over in her head, as well as thoughts about what their next assignment might be and what she might have to prepare for.

Spartans were used to operating on minimal sleep. They had been conditioned to endure physical exhaustion beyond what even the most hardened soldiers would consider nigh unbearable. But they had also been taught to take full advantage of any rest they could get when it was safe for them to do so. It should have been easy for Kelly to just close her eyes and command her body and mind to relax. But like so many other things in her life, it was proving to be much more difficult than she thought.

She rolled over on her stomach and folded her forearms atop the less-than-plush pillow beneath her chin as she sought something to focus on that might distract her enough to lull her into sleep. Kelly looked over at the cot directly across from hers. As she picked up the sounds of the man that was laying in it, she couldn't stop the smile the formed on her lips. His deep open-mouthed breaths were punctuated by the occasional low, grating snore. Kelly was certain that Fred had been a much quieter sleeper before he'd received the injury that had left him with what was now long scar over the bridge of his Roman nose. Not that she would ever say anything to him about it. The snoring wasn't a problem; such a minor inconvenience was nothing compared to what the Spartans usually dealt with. But Fred still tended to get hung up on little things like that if they were brought to his attention. It was just his way - always had been.

She recalled the last time Blue Team had attended a formal awards ceremony. Kelly had caught Fred in the locker room beforehand. He was standing in front of the mirror, tugging his beret down as far as possible in order to hide the prematurely-silver streaks in his hair. She'd quickly snatched the hat from him, and after placing it normally atop his head, commented on how distinguished he looked. Fred had muttered something inconsequential in return, but Kelly noticed that he stopped trying to pull the hat too low for the remainder of the engagement. She vaguely wondered when her friend would finally outgrow his long-held penchant for doubting himself. Perhaps if Kathleen was still alive, things would be different...but for now Kelly would just have to do her best to encourage Fred when he needed it. Even in the darkness she could see the sections of gray sticking out among the black of his mussed hair. Fred shifted in his sleep to bury his face into his pillow, while one of his arms slipped off the edge of the bed to hang down over the side. At least now his snoring would be muffled.

Kelly then turned her attention to the other cot that had been placed next to Fred's. There wasn't much that could be observed about the round mass of blanket that lay motionless atop the mattress. The only indicator that there was a person beneath it was the small shock of red hair that poked out from a gap between where the edge of the mound of covers met the pillow. Linda had always slept like this; all curled up like a cat, completely buried under whatever covering she had at hand. Kelly didn't know exactly why that was what made the quiet sniper most comfortable, but she wasn't about to ask either. Lest she be subjected to one of Linda's infamous unblinking glares.

If Kelly had to guess though, Linda's preference for sleeping in that particular position was connected to the way she seemed antsy whenever getting in and out of cryo. Sure the pods were fully enclosed, similar to how Linda liked her blankets. But they also required you to lay completely flat and keep your arms and legs straight just before the freezing process initiated, until the chemicals that were pumped into the tube put you to sleep. It usually took no more than a minute or two before even the most determinedly awake Spartan was rendered unconscious. However it was still far from what anyone would call a pleasant experience. Even for those trained to push past most types of pain and discomfort.

It put Kelly's mind at ease to see her two teammates resting so well, but sleep was still eluding her. She rolled back over onto her side and looked to the bed that was set right next to her own. The broad-shouldered man in it was lying on his side and breathing quietly. He had one arm folded beneath the thin pillow, propping it up for better neck support, while the other was held snugly against his chest. The blanket was pulled halfway up his torso and the edge of it just barely dangled over the side of the cot. Kelly exhaled a silent chuckle. Even when he was asleep, everything about John was still crisp, efficient, and military-like. She took a moment to let her eyes roam over his face. His expression was peaceful; and though the straight, tapering lines of his cheeks, nose, and jaw had softened under the influence of sleep, his features seemed no less strong.

Kelly didn't have a very large frame of reference as to what was considered attractive by society at large - just what she'd gathered from listening to other soldiers - but she was sure John qualified as "handsome" at the very least. Not that those labels mattered to her. He'd always be the standard to which she gauged other men. And not just for his looks: for his courage, his wry sense of humor, his consideration for those serving under his command, and his ardent refusal to lose. To this day she sometimes found it almost hard to believe that the brash, selfish little boy she'd been paired with on the first day of training had grown into the selfless, stalwart man before her. The man that was unanimously acknowledged as being the leader of the Spartans...and the one person that Kelly cared for more than anything.

She sighed into stale air of the darkened room. None of this musing was helping her fall asleep though, as she hoped it might. Kelly pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked around at the still forms of her comrades, before turning back towards John. There was one more thing she knew she could try that may help her relax. Stealthily she slipped from her bedcovers and took the one step needed to cross the space separating her cot from the one parallel. At this angle she could see that John wasn't lying in the center of the bed, but rather had his back right up against the far edge of the mattress. Leaving a small, but still manageable, amount of room open on the side from which she approached.

Kelly smiled.

She leaned over and lifted the corner of John's blanket, braced one hand against the bed frame for leverage, then slipped into the cot next to him in one fluid motion. Neither Fred or Linda stirred, and John only moved his arm a fraction as Kelly gently pressed up against him. Immediately she felt soothed by the warmth radiating from his body, and inhaled deeply to take in his scent. The starchy odor of the bedsheets crowded her nose, but underneath it there was still a particular combination of UNSC standard-issue soap, metal, and flesh that was unmistakably John.

Kelly tucked herself as close to him as she thought she could get without overcrowding him. Not that there was much wiggle room with both of them lying on a cot that was already slightly undersized for a Spartan's augmented physique. Yet in spite of that, being able to touch John was comforting. She lightly placed her fingertips against the soft cotton shirt covering his chest. Even through the thick wall of muscle Kelly could still feel his heartbeat. She focused on the steady rhythm and tried once more to rid herself of the restlessness that plagued her.

"You should be sleeping," a deep voice murmured from above Kelly's head.

Her breath caught in her throat. After a moment's pause, she tipped her head back up so she could better see John's face. His expression was neutral, save for the slightly raised eyebrow and one eye that was cracked open as he peered back at her. Kelly noted that his mild admonition hadn't included "in your own bed"; but still, she felt guilt pool in her stomach for having disturbed him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered in response.

"You didn't," John rumbled, his voice still heavy with slumber. "Been drifting in and out for a while now." He then lifted up his free arm and draped it over Kelly's torso. She needed no more prompting as she scooted right up against him on the cot and nestled her head more comfortably into the space between the pillow and his neck. His hand settled along her back and he rested his cheek against her forehead. Kelly finally felt somewhat relaxed and allowed her eyelids to droop, but the rush of air over her ear regained her attention as John spoke softly, "What was keeping you awake?"

"Nothing in particular. After a smash-and-grab op like that last one, six hours isn't enough time for me to wind down. But what about you? Why weren't you sleeping well?" Kelly kept her voice quiet enough so that only John would be able to hear. Deep down she knew she shouldn't be encouraging any more conversation in favor of both of them getting some rest. But if he wanted to talk, she wasn't going to dissuade him. Moments like this were precious, and to her were better than any amount of sleep.

Kelly could feel the chuckle resonate from John's chest more than she actually heard it. "Changing the subject..." he intoned. But, after a deep breath, he continued. "I kept having...I wouldn't call them dreams. Not exactly. Just shadows, shapes of things moving in the dark. Couldn't fall too deep asleep." His shoulders shifted in a small shrug and he didn't say anything more.

"I understand," Kelly acknowledged. She wouldn't press him to describe his experience further. She didn't need to. Because in spite of what most soldiers believed or what ONI spooks liked to write in reports about their psychology, all Spartans had bad dreams sometimes.

"S'alright," John mumbled thickly. "Maybe this will clear both our heads," he added as he nuzzled his face against her hair.

Kelly couldn't help the hum of approval that escaped her throat at both his words and his actions. "By the way..." She leaned up a little more so that her head was now better aligned with John's. "Thanks for leaving room for me," she said as she pressed her forehead lightly against his.

A huff of warm breath washed over her cheeks as another silent laugh escaped John. "It's just a force of habit by now," he replied. His voice was still low, but Kelly caught the ever-so-slight lilt of amusement in it.

True, this was hardly the first time she'd snuck into his bed. In fact more often these days the two of them would share a cot - even if it was only for a short while - during their increasingly rare periods of downtime. Whether it was to read, nap, or to do something productive like go over mission reports. And then of course there were the even rarer times when they could abscond to some private place where they could be together more intimately. As the wars with both the alien Covenant and the human rebellion dragged on, that seemed to have imbibed in them a sense of needing to make the most of every moment of peace they had. Kelly didn't really mind the latter. Though she still wished the circumstances were better.

"Well, it's good to know that you haven't become fed up with having me next to you yet," she quipped. The comment was purely in jest though. Kelly had no real concern that John would tire of the nature of their relationship; both in the field as Blue-One and Blue-Two, and in private.

John only shook his head, apparently missing her sarcasm. "That's not going to happen. Ever," he affirmed in hushed tones as the arm that he had curled over her body held her just a little tighter. "Your place is right here." Then, to Kelly's surprise, he dipped his head down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against her lips. "Go to sleep," was the last thing he whispered to her as he pulled away, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers once more.

Kelly wasn't certain if it was because he was sleep-muddled, or if it was something else that had caused John to be so unusually affectionate. Particularly while they were in a room with their teammates. Even though Fred and Linda were oblivious, still dozing quietly in their own cots. But frankly she found that she didn't care. She and John belonged at each other's side. Be it in battle, or in between missions, it didn't matter. The years had shaped them to match up like two adjoining puzzle pieces. And even though they couldn't be physically close like this all the time, that didn't change the fact that they would always fit together perfectly. Kelly shut her eyes, and didn't think anymore as the warmth coming from both her bedmate and the fluttering feeling inside her own chest eased her into an untroubled slumber.