Just a little random Blade/MC fluff I came up with in between classes: Blade's reflecting on her relationship with John late one night. Feel free to comment, but no flames please!

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Halo.

Reflections

June 12, 2556

0143 hours

UNSC Reserve Base Camp Hayes

North America

She lay there silently, listening to the sound of his breathing. Funny, really, she'd never expected anything like this. Sure, there'd been the usual childish dreams about a Prince Charming coming to take her away from her evil cage, but she'd grown out of them in time. Besides, with all the black-ops and ONI trying to kill her off, she'd had no time for dreams or girlish whims.

Sitting up in bed, brown hair hanging in wild disarray, she looked out the window, lost in her own muddled thoughts. It seemed like only yesterday that she'd been a cynical, seemingly unstable special operative, one who suspected half the general population of trying to do her in. Even the Spartans had been suspects, and it had taken a long time to change her mind and convince her otherwise.

John stirred sleepily next to her, and she smiled in the dark. They couldn't see each other very often, and when they did there were usually other matters complicating things. But every so often they could snatch a brief interlude, one stolen moment to chase away the long, lonely hours. He was always happy to see her, a fact that made itself clear the minute they were alone. Her smile grew as she recalled their first night together, how inexperience they'd both been. She had some vague idea on what to do, if only because she'd hacked the networks and found some "contraband" romance novels—the kind that were banned because they were very detailed and descriptive. At the time, she hadn't understood the point: licking, sucking, touching, a "man's distinct scent"? It made absolutely no sense that one man would smell any different from anyone else—they were all kind of smelly at one point or another. Still, she'd filed that information away as she had so many other things, just in case, and it had proven itself many times over.

A contented sigh escaped her lips as she lay back down; John rolled over and wrapped her in his arms, arms that could crush her as easily as he embraced her now—she held no illusions about that fact. She snuggled against him, breathing in the unique scent that she'd once scoffed at in the contraband novels, but which now clung to her and the bed she now shared with him. John's breathing, slow and deep, stirred the hair by her ear as she closed her eyes, happy to just be there, nestled in a warm bed beside her lover. Okay, maybe she was more of a romantic than she cared to admit, but there wasn't anything wrong with that. Besides, it wasn't like anyone else really knew.

Her eyes drifted shut as she listened to John's breathing. Tomorrow they'd have to go back to their normal routines. She'd be stuck in Camp Hayes while he was shipped out on active duty. It might be months before they'd see each other again, but she knew there was really no choice. These were their lives, hectic and unpredictable: the lives of SPARTAN-II soldiers. If only things were different, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.