by Tara Wimble
“I missed you.” Shit. Shit she said that. She actually. “Oh.”
Hope’s smile doesn’t have a trace of unease but a strange shyness that Janice finds perfect to diffuse how utterly mortifying that just was. “I missed you too.”
“Okay.” Janice settles. “Okay.” Her chest feels lighter with everything coming clean and Hope’s apology and explanation sounding true. And she missed her too.“Then we’re okay?”
“Yes.” Hope murmurs. “Well, now that you’ve got that coat off.”
“Jesus.” Janice covers her face with her hands.
“It’s cute.”
“It’s cold.”
“No one is ever cold enough for that.”
Hope’s house is warm and Janice finds herself agreeing because, really, pink is not a good color on her at all. Hope moves them from the kitchen and the last remains of their serious talk, to the couches opposite her huge TV. It commands Janice’s attention for a good minute until Hope unzips her thin jacket and tosses it over the back of the couch.
Then all Janice wants to watch is how her muscles do that thing where they exist in high definition. And maybe touch them.
Hope, oblivious to her staring, faces up and asks if she wants a drink again. As she says yes, Janice sees it, the scar.
The small white circle on her right shoulder where a piece of metal tore through one side and came out the other. When she turns around to get Janice’s drink, the flipside of the circle becomes visible too. The back looks worse than the front.
The temptation becomes hard to resist when Hope sits down next to her, just close enough for their knees to touch, and asks; “What?”
“Is that-?” Janice touches the white circle on the front of Hope’s shoulder. She reaches out and actually touches- shit again. Hope doesn’t flinch back though and stares assuredly between her hand and Janice’s eyes.
“A scar?”
“A scar with a twin?”
Hope does freeze up however when Janice traces the scar on the back of her shoulder too. It’s not just that this touching thing is new, Janice knows that Hope had kind of ignored talking how close they were getting before Christmas despite this flirtation they have between them, but touching is personal. The touching means more.
“That is,” Hope brings her hand behind her shoulder to touch the scar, catching Janice’s fingers and pressing them down there. “That is where I got shot.”
Suddenly Janice feels like she’s touching the memory of the bullet in Hope’s shoulder and she wants to pull away. Hope keeps her there.
“It went all the way through.” Janice states.
Hope nods. “They had to pull it out.”
“How did you even still do -all- of that after this?” Janice asks in shock. Her shock tells the story to her again. How did she manage to keep on her feet and take two shooters down? How did she manage to push her partner out of the firing range when she felt that explosion in her shoulder?
How can she look at that scar every day and not get angry at the fact that her pain wasn’t seen as punishment enough?
“Because I had to.” Their eyes meet over the scar and Hope lets go of her hand. Janice doesn’t take her touch away.
She knows that it should be now. Everything has been laid out bare for them to see. They’ve ran and raced and avoided each other and found each other and laughed and paused for two months now and Janice has done nothing. Nothing but stare at Hope’s back as she outruns her and wished.
Janice is sick of wishing and waiting and feeling like nothing is ever going to get along as it should without some kind of divine intervention.
So screw it.
There’s only so many charged moments when you’re touching a woman’s body without actually taking her clothes off and this is one of them.
Hope must be dazed by her movements, (or her freckles give or take) because she takes a second after Janice catches her lips before she embraces it. When she does, she finds Janice’s jaw with her hand and uses the height she still has over her, even sitting, to take control of the kiss. If Janice’s chest was fluttering before, the run of Hope’s thumb between her jaw and ear have her threatening to burst.
She came so close once and felt ready to combust but this is so different. She feels small and overwhelmed by how much she wants this. Mentally, she’s doing cartwheels. Physically she’s swooning when they break away from each other and Hope takes in the effect she’s just had on her.
“You’re a freaking hero.” Janice’s face is pink and her lips tingle from the kiss. Holy shit, Hope just let her kiss her. It’s going to take a day or two for that to sink in. Or an hour screaming at Robin. Wow.
“Well, that’s a first.” The smile on Hope’s face tells her that she’s okay and that Janice should start to keep up.
“Shit.” She shudders with the weight of what’s just happened and Hope spots it. “Shit.”
“Hey, hey.” The second is quieter and Hope grabs the side of her knees and swings them up and over her lap, pulling her into her side and holding the back of her neck. Close and calm and this is happening. “We’re good.” She says, kissing the corner of her mouth. “We’re good.”
***
SHE did think to come here first but decided to give her a little space. Instead she cycled to King’s and spoke to Jasmine about their breaks and then to the library to scope out all the little nooks and window seats Robin loves to nap in and then by the tennis courts before things started to get dark. Only when the lights started coming on and the sky started turning off, did she turn her bike towards the church.
It’s a small one just down the road from the Christian Union that handed out flyers at the give back night. She knows Robin has gone there before but until now Lexie hasn’t stepped foot inside it.
A row of lights lead up all the way to the front, ending at the altar, giving just enough light to illuminate the rest of the building. There, in the first row, she can see Robin’s bowed head.
She moves as quietly as possible as she walks and Robin doesn’t look up. It’s when she gets close enough, to see Robin holding her silver cross necklace in one hand and supporting herself against the pew in front holding a bible in the other, that she speaks.
“It’s different than I thought it’d be.” Lexie admits when she dares to disturb her.
Robin jumps at first but when she turns to see her, her face relaxes. “How so?”
Lexie smiles, sitting next to her when Robin shuffles to one side, and automatically reaches for the hymn book in front of her for something to hold.. “It’s bigger on the inside.”
Robin stifles a laugh and the ‘that’s what she said’ joke that was sure to follow. She puts down the bible she’s borrowed from the pew and sets her hand next to Lexie’s. “I’m almost done.”
Lexie shrugs. “I don’t mind waiting.”
Lexie thinks that she’s not the only one wanting Robin to squeeze their joined fingers together for a second before she lets go and hunches over, elbows to her knees, and clasps her hands together. She stays silent for a long time. Lexie doesn’t move to see the way the concentration burrows in her face or how tightly her eyes are closed. She hasn’t prayed since childhood and the days when Santa still existed.
She can’t even remember the last thing she prayed about.
Robin, Lexie thinks, seems like the girl who would remember.
While Robin’s head remains down Lexie looks around. Everything looks clean in the way that makes her feel that the church is well cared for rather than untouched. They aren’t the first to sit here, nor will they be the last. Lexie won’t be the first one to watch someone pray and the prayer Robin sends won’t be the final one to fill the thoughts above them.
Yet it’s empty tonight.
The absence of people turn Lexie’s eyes back to Robin and the way her hair spills down her back, for once free of a tie, and the bands on her wrists which she’s touched so much that she can feel the texture of them just from thou
ght.
She can see Robin’s face shift and a smile peeks at the edge of her cheek. That smile. That smile makes her swoon, it means yes, it means trouble and a million other things but here next to her that smile is happy and content.
Robin sighs out ‘Amen’ and slowly reclines back in the pew. Lexie remembers that temptation to ask her what she prays about, before Christmas she might have but she won’t now. Prayers are like wishes to her. Saying them aloud could take away the truth they might grant.
You’re so beautiful. Lexie murmurs in her mind. She remembers the blush on her face but knows better than to selfishly want to see it again. She remembers everything about that walk home and it’s both amazing and depressing to think that it’s causing Robin stress.
She won’t push though. She cares too much. “Janice said you haven’t come back to the room yet.”
Robin leans back into the pew, emitting comfort, and let’s go of her necklace. “I didn’t think Janice was back.”
“When did you come back?” Lexie asks. Her voice echoes and she’s glad there’s no one else to hear her.
“Yesterday. I flew in around noon.”
“How was your Christmas?” Easy stuff. Simple stuff. Things that won’t make her chest hurt and Robin run.
“Good. My nana stayed with us and brought some of my cousins too. My sisters were back from college as well.” Robin’s hands don’t shake from being pressed together. Lexie’s knees do. “You?”
“I got a new bike.”
That smile, that swoon worthy smile, erupts on Robin’s face and for a second, Lexie thinks, she’d pray to see that smile every day. Every morning.
“Yeah? How sweet is it?”
Lexie laughs because the nerves won’t let her breathe otherwise. “You’re gonna be jealous.”
“Yeah?” They don’t look at each other. Just grin and let the corners of their mouths draw a line between their bodies.
“Fixed gear.”
Robin whistles. “Dang. You gonna let me ride it?”
“Maybe.” She jokes. “I’m not too sure how I feel about having someone else’s hands all over her body.”
“Touché.” Robin looks at her first, wanting to see the excitement in her face but Lexie’s expression betrays her and she can only project sadness back.
“Hey,” Robin takes her hand and a flash of longing goes through her before she pulls them both to their feet. If they were anywhere else Robin would have cracked another joke but neither of them want to disturb the quietness that has settled as Robin prayed. “It’s not forever, this, y’know.”
Lexie’s chest tightens.
“It’s going to be alright.”
“Yeah, I just-” Lexie swallows and forces everything back. “Do you want to grab dinner?”
Robin nods. “I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“I don’t think anywhere on campus is open but I stopped by King’s and I think they’re still serving.” Lexie says.
“That sounds perfect.”
They leave quietly and Robin mentions that there is someone else around no doubt to lock up. Lexie can feel a small barrier between them but it’s not as bad as she’d thought it’d be. Robin still walks like she’s unable to go straight, bumping their shoulders together and wearing a smile like a permanent laugh. She’s right, it’s not forever.
“So, you gonna let me ride this bike?” Robin waits for her to unlock it with her eyes closed as per Lexie’s insistence.
“I don’t know, you might not be able to handle it.” Lexie teases. “Keep closed.”
“You’d be surprised what- oh wow.”
“I said keep closed!” Lexie says.
“Um, how about no.” Robin helps her wheel it out, keeping it at arm’s length as she does before making the few steps back to get a clear look at it. “Wow.”
Lexie swings her leg over it and appreciates it all over again. It’s her dream bike. It’s also the level she wants to get to in her own work. “What do you think then?”
Robin sighs. “Gorgeous.”
Lexie forgets everything just for one second. “Yeah, but I asked about the bike.”
And it’s worth it just for that moment that Robin’s hidden nerves break and a laugh erupts from the bottom of her stomach. It catches and Lexie keels over on her handlebars laughing too until her face starts to hurt and she has to hold herself up.
“Yeah,” Robin stumbles over and touches her elbow. “The bike is pretty sweet too.”
Lexie let’s her grin relax and feel natural once more. They were alright. “C’mon, I’ll buy you dinner.”
***
JANICE wakes up late to the sight of Hope pulling a shirt on. Hope can tell that her eyes recognize where she is a little slower than her brain as she rolls over and blinks in her direction a few times like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.
She wants to call it adorable and brush it off but she knows it means more than that when she tucks her shirt in and has to stifle a groan when her hand reaches low.
Hope hadn’t meant for Janice to spend the night when she had work in the morning. Or before she’d cleared the house of everything that didn’t belong to her. She’d panicked a little seeing Janice on the porch before she’d got home. Which wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t decided to change at the station before driving back. It was more important that she did. The ringing truth of her ‘always being on’ duty was something that she didn’t want to remind Janice of before they’d had a chance to talk.
She’s still trying to figure this out.
Like, how this happened to start with. How whoever plays with the dice that decides her destiny rolled this girl in her direction with no strings attached on her part.
Still, Hope thinks as she looks over her shoulder at Janice, she’s not about to complain. She lent the girl something to sleep in last night, an old shirt and a pair of shorts she only wears when working out at the gym. Both were too big and completely drowned her figure.
Adorable is the word. It’s too early for her to think of another way to describe how Janice had changed in the bathroom and wandered back in blushing like she hadn’t stood outside the room waiting for Hope to put her shirt back on. All that cocky confidence was in there somewhere but absent when things got serious. It made her look older in Hope’s eyes.
Yet, adorable is still all that comes to mind watching Janice sleeping on her back with one arm flung across the bed that Hope’s just gotten out of, seeking the warmth she’s lost.
Lingering too long on that view twists it and she’s mid way through memorizing Janice on her back in a new light when a whispered declaration of “So hot” that was probably not meant to be voiced mumbles from behind her, shaking her out of that day dream. Hope looks over her shoulder to see Janice burying her face into the pillow to avoid her gaze.
“Wait till you see me put the gun on.” Hope jokes back. Janice groans into the pillow, into the side she chose last night when they fell asleep together. The joke suddenly turns on her as she tries to not drift back to Janice being in her bed so early in the morning. Professionalism today is going to suck.
“You can’t say that right now.” Janice objects. Not when she can probably still remember Hope against her back in the middle of the night and how nothing was said about there being no space left between them.
Hope silences herself but makes a show of actually strapping her gun around her waist just for the look of lust that passes over Janice’s face, she knows she'll have to take it off when she gets to the car but, she can play the game well enough still.
“You have classes.” Hope reminds her.
“Classes are boring.” Janice rolls onto her back. “You are decidedly not boring.”
Hope rolls her shoulder, feeling Janice watch her in a new light now, after putting her uniform on. Checking how it feels and preparing for the day ahead.
“What time do you finish tonight?” Janice asks.
“I’m off at eig
ht.” Hope pulls her bag from the bottom of the bed. “And considering what time you went to sleep last night at-”
Janice beams. “Your fault.”
“-you need to sleep.” Hope insists, shaking the memory off her reluctantly. She needs to think about work and getting through another day with half the department still shaking their heads at her and the other half trying not to get in trouble for defending her. Thinking about Janice McPherson on her back, in her bed, isn’t going to help her at all.
“Do you need a lift?”
“You’re leaving?” Janice scoots up against the pillows with a sad little look in her eyes.
“I’m not dressing up for your amusement.”
“I have class later but I can walk.”
“Sorry I can’t stay.” Hope pulls out her bag from underneath the bed. “There’s some stuff in the fridge if you want to make yourself breakfast and I’ll leave my spare key for you to lock up when you want to-”
“Wait, you’re letting me hang out here for a while?”
“On your own. That’s the stipulation.”
“Who am I gonna call?”
“No one.” Hope throws her bag strap over her shoulder and fishes her spare keys out of her bedside table. She tosses them on the bed and the bounce by Janice’s hand. She must be leaning too close in above because Janice’s arm rises up and catches the strap of her bag.
“You gonna say good morning before you sneak out of bed?” Janice’s confidence is on an all time high just by the grace of being here. Hope plays to it despite a twinge telling her not to, putting her hands either side of Janice’s shoulders and kissing her fully awake.
The confidence is replaced by surprise at Hope committing to it, it seems, as Janice lets out an appreciative groan that Hope feels shiver through her.
“Good morning.” She says and Janice’s face comes up in a rose red. “I’ll call you.”
Janice mumbles something that she laughs at before she pulls back and goes for the door.
The drive to work plagues her with the feeling that she’s left something important behind and she guts through traffic with a little more road rage than usual.
