Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As listings go, it almost seems too good to be true - $880 / 100ft² CUTE AND COZY BLY PARK ROOM FOR RENT (w/ three adorable roommates, all inquiries sent to [email protected]) - but it's the only one that's managed to get back to Dani in the last month (a very enthusiastic we can even meet you today!), so here she is. Bly Park leans a little older than most other student-heavy areas (definitely older than West Hill, which is where Dani's desperate to escape from), so she's excited when a shaggy, dark-haired guy about her age opens the door. 

"Dani Clayton?" he asks right away, rubbing the scruff on his cheeks like he's willing it to be more presentable. Dani can see patches of flour coating his hair, though, so it doesn't help much. But she's still admittedly endeared. "The cake is still in the oven, unfortunately, but that doesn't mean we're not excited that you're here. We're just terrible hosts by nature. Except for Hannah, of course, she's lovely."

"The cake?" Dani asks, because she's still processing everything else he said.

"Sorry, manners. I'm Owen," the guy introduces, outstretching a hand as his smile turns into a yawn. He gets through most of it before he adds, "Oh god, this isn't a good look, m'sorry," first half of the sentence nearly gobbled up. "We didn't think you'd say yes when we invited you over right away."

"Oh, sorry," Dani flushes, taking his hand, smiling herself as Owen blinks his now-glassy eyes and shakes out his hair. "Excuse my enthusiasm," she apologizes. "I guess I'm a bit desperate to move."

"Coming from West Hill, most are," Owen says. "But no worries, you're safe here. No late-night partying and vape smoke, unless you count the occasional depressed wine gatherings for midnight bonfires."

"Oh," Dani laughs, the sound practically jumping out of her. She wants this room and she hasn't even seen it yet. If Owen's the welcoming party, he's at least already better than the nod of acknowledgment she got when she first met her current roommate. "Stop it, I think I'm falling in love."

"I tend to have that effect," Owen says. "I hope you still think I'm funny two weeks from now when you're running on nothing but lost hope and my endless puns, maybe a cheeky prank or two." Dani doesn't think her mouth could stretch any wider with how hard she's smiling. Owen looks positively pleased with himself, like a man that lost his audience ages ago. "Anywho, enough of this already, I'll show you in."

"After you," Dani says.

As he turns away, she straightens her skirt and follows him inside. The building is a classic Bly Park red brick, chipped and stained, with beautiful moldings and a closed-in porch. There are plants strewn in all the little corners of the enclosure and even a professional-looking miniature garden out front. Dani just keeps thinking it's weird. Owen seems lovely and the house seems nice, and somehow, she's managed to get in despite seeing the listing get renewed three weeks in a row. It should have been snatched up ages ago, at least faster than the shoebox for twice the price with a 64-year-old snappish artist roommate she was denied when she first started looking. But, god, she really loves it, though. She loves the quiet and the flowers and even likes the way the front door clicks closed: like it's announcing they're home, like it's comfort, like it's the complete opposite of the obnoxious squelch of her current front door closing, the rattling at night she can feel shaking in her bones. 

She was so excited when she first moved out here, far away from where she grew up, somewhere she could drift away with the wind - a city where no one knew who she was or that she'd lost something. She just wanted to start new, start fresh, be someone different than she was used to being, and she's definitely gotten that and then some, has had her fair share of new adventures and fun encounters. But there's only so much she can take from overgrown undergraduates before her head explodes, and her quota for bullshit definitely filled up months ago.

So, she's sort of hoping this works out and the other two roommates aren't like, mass murderers at least.

Her bar is low.

"So, this is home," Owen says, and Dani even loves the way his voice bounces off the walls. Everything seems a lot neater than she's used to. They even have a proper coat rack by the front door, and a dish where it seems they remember to stash their keys. Her roommates hardly remember they can't leave half-eaten ramen on the TV stand or that they should lock the door before they pass out drunk in front of it. Owen leads them forward until they cross into the living area, and to the side, there's a dining table where two women are seated. They're both pretty enough to make Dani's mouth feel dry—one with a shaved head, who's so perfectly put-together it's like she's straight from a magazine, and one that looks ruffled and half awake, hair messily thrown into a ponytail, wrapped up in an over-sized cardigan. "And this is the rest of the family—the lovely Hannah, as I mentioned—and our resident handywoman, and perpetual grump, Jamie. Don't worry, she only bites on Wednesdays."

"Today is Wednesday," the one with the shaved head—Hannah, Dani's guessing—says. "Try not to scare her off before she's even seen the room yet. Unless you plan to double your income and cover the rent."

"Yeah, don't run her away like the rest of them," Jamie chimes in, leaning forward in her chair. 

"The rest of them?" Dani asks.

Jamie smiles. "The weak are meat; the strong do eat."

Hannah rolls her eyes immediately, glaring at Jamie. "There haven't been the rest of them," she says, looking back to Dani and smiling. "We were beginning to think we were the only ones that could see the bloody ad, but then we heard from you."

"Our saving grace," Owen smiles, clasping his hands together in front of him. "Truth is, we're a little desperate, too."

"That's alright," Dani huffs, relief sitting heavy on her chest. She's okay with a little bit of desperate, after all - "They do say feeling lost, crazy and desperate belongs to a good life as much as optimism, certainty and reason,” she shrugs, "so I think we're all on the right track."

"Oh, you'll fit right in with these two," Jamie says, smiling and leaning back in her chair. Dani senses that wasn't an easy win, so she feels a bit proud of herself. "Well, get on with it, Owen. Sell us up."

"Right, then. When I said we're a family, I didn't mean it as a joke," Owen jumps back in. "We are a family, and a bit of a well-oiled machine. We all have our special talents," he explains. "Jamie fixes things and tends to the plants, I'm a world-class chef myself, and Hannah's like our glue, she holds us together, makes sure we don't neglect laundry four weeks in a row or—"

"Leave mold growing in the sink too long," Jamie adds in.

Owen drops his head, hand clutching his heart. "That was only once, but yes, we'd all fall into oblivion without Hannah. She's lovely."

"You mentioned that," Dani smiles, and catches Hannah smiling too, ducking her head, out of the corner of her eye.

"My bigger point," Owen continues, "and what I'm asking, is what talent might you have to offer?" 

Outside of wrangling fourth graders, the only thing Dani's ever managed to accomplish is making coffee with just a pan, tap water, and near expired k-cups after her Keurig broke, so. "I'm really great at making coffee," she says, hopeful.

"You had me at I'm really great," Owen smiles, "the coffee is a bonus. I'll show you to your room."

-

She only needs two days to move her stuff in, and she only needs two because her roommate locks them out on Dani's last round of pick-ups, so she spends half-a-day pacing the hallways, ringing the landlord and figuring out how to get back into the apartment. But when she finally gets settled in her room in Bly Park, she... takes a breath. She takes a deep, long, content breath and relishes in the fact that she's not smelling days old food or whatever weird scent they couldn't get out of the carpet even with freshener. She thanks whatever force is driving the universe for the faint flowery scent in the air and the smell of pre-thought dinner cooking, and then she sticks her head out of her window and thanks the universe for the smell of - cigarette smoke.

Oh.

Dani looks down and catches Jamie looking up at her. "You spying on me new girl?"

She looks even prettier in the sunlight, Dani thinks, and it nearly startles her because it's been a while since a thought about a girl felt so natural. She's come to terms with her sexuality as much as she's able to during her short time being here, but somehow liking girls never feels as easy as liking ice cream, or preferring Nietzsche over Kafka, or as easy as pointing to a bouquet of sunflowers and saying I prefer those over the daisies. She's never been a girl without opinions or preferences, or even one to hide them, but her brain still hiccups every time she stutters over another girl's eyes. It doesn't with Jamie, though. Which doesn't even make sense, considering Dani wouldn't even call Jamie her type. Jamie doesn't make sense with her messy hair and her six rings and her too-big cardigan draped over her again even though it's warm and the sun is out. 

"You have a spare for me?" Dani asks instead of entertaining the question.

Jamie holds up the box, then drops her eyes and looks out at the back garden. It's as much of an invitation as Dani needs.

"Hannah says it's a nasty habit," Jamie tells her, holding up the box once Dani's next to her on the back porch. "I can't wait until she hears the new girl is here influencing me in the wrong direction." 

"I didn't actually want one," Dani admits, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Figured I should get to know the family, though."

"Go on, take it," Jamie tilts her head. "This is my last one in my last box, m'quitting after today."

Dani does take it, but then she shoves it in her pocket instead of asking for a light. Jamie smiles, dropping her arm back to her side. "I'll put it in my scrapbook as the first good deed I've done here," Dani says. "You're pretty confident about quitting."

"What? You saying I don't look as stubborn as Hannah says I am?"

"Oh no, every bit," Dani smiles, like she can't help it, like Jamie's sunshine after two weeks of rain. "But if it gets hard—"

"I can find you peeking out your window at me, I know," Jamie finishes. 

Dani laughs, tries not to blush as she drops her eyes to where she's kicking at the worn wood of the porch. "Are Hannah and Owen, like?"

"At their own pace, I suppose," Jamie says, taking a drag and puffing out smoke. "It's obvious to everyone but them."

"They're cute," Dani says, looking back up. 

"Just wait until she falls asleep on his shoulder during movie night. A tornado couldn't make him move an inch."

"Was there another member of the family before me?" Dani asks, because she can't imagine anyone wanting to leave here after getting to know them. She imagines she might like to stay even if she somehow hit the lottery.

"Once upon a time," Jamie frowns. "She quoted books for fun, just like you. Hannah called her brilliant."

"Oh, I see," Dani says. Something about the past tense is rubbing her wrong though, and she doesn't have the heart to figure it out, so. She switches the subject. "Well, I'm glad I found this place, feel like I've been searching for so long. I would have - honestly, I would have taken anything, so this feels - I don't know. I'm just glad, really. It feels right."

"We're glad to have you here, I think," Jamie says, like she's not sure yet, putting out her cigarette. "We thought you might send your uni essays along with your CV, though. What ever happened to a thorough application?"

Dani laughs again, ducking her head. "I know I over-did it, I've just been through so much. I wanted to be impressive up front."

"Oh no, you were," Jamie assures her. "Your email made Hannah smile, next thing I know we're all scrambling to tidy up because you're coming over soon, Owen shoving whatever he could into a bowl to make a cake. Don't be so nervous, alright? You're more than welcome here."

"Thanks," Dani says, then she smiles, breath catching as she maybe lingers on Jamie's eyes too long.

"Well, this is done," Jamie transitions them, a few seconds later, looking down at her snuffed-out cigarette. "I guess one of us should go fix the leak on the ac. Think you could handle it?" Dani smiles even wider, shakes her head. "Didn't think so either, so that leaves me to it. See you inside, then," she leaves off with. 

And then she's gone. Dani's still smiling.

-

Oddly enough, that becomes somewhat of a thing over the next two weeks - Jamie goes outside just before dinner to stare at the garden, and Dani finds some dumb excuse to join her. Eventually, Hannah catches on, and it becomes their thing—the three of them hanging out while Owen cooks. "So you just spend all day in fancy houses doing tutoring with fussy, rich brats that'll rule the world one day?"

"Don't say it like that, Jamie," Hannah says sweetly, "it seems exciting, and helpful."

"Oh no, that's pretty much it," Dani says.

Jamie smiles and tilts her head like she's won something, and Hannah smiles and waves her off, shoving her playfully. "So you're saying you'll be the inside job when the proletariat finally rises?"

"I don't know," Dani shrugs. She knows it's just a joke, but her occupation is a little bit of a sore subject. She misses teaching a full room of students, but in the end, it just got overwhelming. "I imagine it's a transition for me, but to what? I'm not sure."

"None of us are sure," Jamie comforts, tapping her with her shoulder. "I'm supposed to be head gardener at Martha's Vineyard, but instead I'm sending apology arrangements to wives, and nice night flowers to mistresses. It's all a part of it, I think. Circle of life or whatever."

"I was going to be a dancer," Hannah says, looking out at the setting sun. "Ballet, top of my class."

"And then?" Dani asks.

"A boy," Hannah smiles, then shrugs.

"It's always a boy, isn't it?" Dani sighs, and then tries not to think about it.

Jamie hops up to sit on the railing, back to the sun. "I guess I'm glad I at least don't have that problem."

"Sworn off boys?" Dani asks.

Jamie just smiles at her. "Oh, they're just not my type, sweetheart."

"Oh," Dani says, too quiet. She feels the heat flooding her cheeks faster than she can turn her head away.

Thank god for Owen and his food and him poking his head through the door to say, "Dinner's ready."

Well, Dani at least thinks thank god, until a few seconds have passed and Jamie's still staring at her. They're still looking at each other, actually, Dani's breath lodged in her throat. Finally, after too many thick heartbeats, Jamie decides, "You're quite interesting, aren't you," and doesn't bother explaining what that means before she jumps off the railing to head inside.

-

Despite being somewhere new and happier with actual friends, the nightmares still find her. She wakes up at 4am in a cold sweat, and has to splash water on her face a few times before her brain registers she's not in it anymore, she's not reliving it, it's over.

She can't get back to sleep, though.

So when 5am rolls around, she decides her best bet is making herself some coffee and just praying she can sleep tonight, because she'll have to work before she knows it. Jamie says, "hello," at exactly five-twenty-one and six seconds. Dani knows because she's zoned-out staring at the clock on the stove. "What are you doing up looking like a proper zombie?"

"Just thinking," Dani says, breathing in and out until the gears in her brain start churning, then she blinks up at Jamie. She looks soft at five in the morning, hair even more ruffled than usual, wearing a thin, black band tank-top, that looks like it was a t-shirt maybe years ago. "I couldn't sleep."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Maybe one day," Dani says, sipping her coffee.

Jamie shoves her hands into her joggers, and nods, then focuses her eyes on Dani's mug. "Is this your famous coffee?" she asks. "I was wondering when we would get to see it. Show some hospitality, will you, offer me some."

Dani shakes her head, but she sets her own mug down to pour Jamie one, then hands it over before she picks it up again. "They're not brats, by the way. I - it's not important, maybe, but I wanted to clarify that."

"Hm?" Jamie asks, taking a sip of the coffee.

"The kids I tutor, Miles and Flora, they're sweethearts," Dani explains. "They lost their parents not too long ago, so. They have a lot going on, and I'm just glad to help out in some way, make them smile a little bit with my lessons."

"Oh, I was just giving you a hard time," Jamie says. "I could tell you really liked kids from your CV, the way you talk about your experiences."

"You read it? Like, in its entirety."

"All eleven over-stuffed pages of it," Jamie smiles, taking another sip. "I thought you had to be really full of yourself, or you're just passionate about what you do. I'm glad it's the latter."

"I'm just glad I found this place," Dani gushes, sipping her own coffee.

Jamie takes another drink, then clears her throat. "I think you've said that already. You must really like us?"

"I do, you make it... easier," Dani finishes quietly.

"We're still not talking about it?"

Dani shakes her head. "Still not the time."

"Okay," Jamie says. "Well, m'letting you know that not smoking has been a little hard, so. I could use some encouragement."

"You can do this. I know you can," Dani tells her right away. "I mean if anyone could quit, you - I haven't known you that long, but you seem like someone that can do anything if you're determined."

Jamie nods again. "Alright, that does it, should be good to go another week," she says, like she's doing an objective appraisal of her status. "Thanks for letting me open up to you in my time of need."

"I get it," Dani laughs, then sighs. "I can talk to you, right?"

"I didn't say that, you did. But it's true, you can." Jamie takes another sip of her coffee, then sucks a deep breath as she looks in the mug, face heavy like she's reading tea leaves. "We've all been through a lot here, so we might get what you're going through in ways most don't."

"Trust me, when I'm ready - you all would be the first people I wanted to talk to."

"Okay, just no bottling it up and shutting down, yeah?"

"Yeah," Dani nods, and then they sit in silence for a while, comfortable, just drinking their coffee.

"I like you, Dani," Jamie says, a few minutes later, like she's just now deciding. "Which is why I won't tell Owen you lied on your application." Dani perks up, chest too tight as she watches Jamie point at her cup. "This is dreadful, you know. I'm almost offended you offered me this."

Dani snorts, heart thudding. God, she's just being grumpy about the coffee. "I've had worse before, trust me. It's alright."

"Yeah, I'm sure whatever worse you had was also made by those hands," Jamie says, eyes wide with caution as she reaches over to grab Dani's hand. She pulls it forward then, and holds it up between them, and Dani tries her best not to think about how soft or how fucking warm she is. "Just look at it. It's proper treacherous, up close. I can tell it's responsible for destroying my taste buds."

Dani laughs. She feels flushed and wants to cover her cheeks, but she also doesn't want to let Jamie go. "Hey, my hands can learn, I promise. What do we have Google for, anyway?"

"Looking up the number to poison control, I'm sure," Jamie says. She lets Dani's hand go. "There's a coffee shop down the street. It's probably easier to run there each morning and pretend you made it than it is to fix this."

Dani rolls her eyes, but she's sure her cheeks are red enough to be candy-colored. She's charmed by Jamie, even when she's being made fun of. She might even like being teased when Jamie does it. "Are you normally up this early?"

"It's the only alone time I get with the plants," Jamie says. "Between me and you, they're the only houseguests I find tolerable."

"Right," Dani laughs. "Of course, they are. But I wanted to say, and it's just a thought, but if I'll be up early keeping up the Great Coffee Facade, stealing it from the local shops and whatnot, I'd love to have a partner in crime. Someone to pull the attention away if they start to catch on."

"Is this your way of asking me on a standing coffee date?" Jamie squints at her, like that's such a deplorable thing to do. "I admire how bold you are, but if it's my heart you're after—"

"I would have offered to help tend to the plants in return," Dani cuts in. "Don't worry, I was following up with that."

This time Jamie blushes. "She's full of surprises, isn't she? Nothing but terrible coffee and surprises."

"Just say yes," Dani says, feeling a little more confident now that Jamie's cheeks look as red as her own cheeks feel. "You showed your hand when you drank half of the mug just to keep talking to me."

"Did I?"

"You did," Dani confirms. "So, what do you say?"

Jamie doesn't respond right away, just looks at Dani for a long three-four-five seconds, then slowly, without breaking eye contact, she lifts her cup and drinks an entire gulp of it. Dani feels like she's on fire. "If they catch us, I'm saying you made me do it."

Chapter Text

There's a little piece of Dani that falls in love with every single girl she sees. It's not real love, not really, only exists the few seconds it takes girls to enter and exit her life, but it's there, in her chest, pumping like an extra heartbeat. Each time she makes eye contact or smells their perfume or their shoulders touch while they're seated on the sofa at the cafe waiting to be tabled, it's like a shock to her system, like she's walking along the edge of a cliff and her foot slips so suddenly she's falling in. It swallows her whole every single time, and she just lets it. She lets the feeling rush over her, waits patiently for it to pass, and then she tucks it neatly in her pocket and never bothers to dwell on it.

She thinks she's falling in love with Jamie.

She thinks if anyone ever says what they love most about girls are their eyes, then they've never really loved a girl, have they?

At first, Dani loves Jamie's eyes, and then her hair and her swagger when she walks, but then she loves the way her eyes get foggy on overcast days, the way her hair sometimes gets tucked into her shirt collar, the way she tilters when she's running too fast and trying not to slip on the hardwood. She loves the way Jamie makes a joke of everything, and then follows it up with wide eyes like her heart's too big in her chest and she'd rather be dead than have anyone around her ever thinking she doesn't care. Dani's spent the past month falling in love with every little thing that Jamie does, and it's the scariest feeling in the world but she's starting to think that maybe this one is real. She doesn't love the girls on the way to her bus stop anymore. She doesn't love the girls that brush past her on the street or the ones that smile and hold the door for her. She doesn't love the cute cashier at the new bakery she frequents, the one that always remembers her order and adds a little extra to the bag.

It's like she's all filled up now, only making space and room to love more things about Jamie. She loves her nose, loves her ears, her hands and the curve of her jaw. She loves her laugh, her silliness, the way she squints her eyes when she's telling a good joke.

Dani loves Jamie's voice, the way it drops sometimes, the way it pitches, the way it sounds warm and sweet when Dani's leaned over the sink having a panic attack at fucking 5 in the morning. Okay, so this is the first time that's happened, to be fair, so Dani's figuring that one out right this second, but she knows it goes on the list. She knows it when she hears, "Hey new girl," softly from behind her as she's snapping in half, knows it when her lungs crack open just hearing Jamie speak, and she finally breathes a god-honest actual breath. She doesn't try to talk back, though. Not yet. Jamie's like the umbrella between her and the storm, but the rain is still there, all around her, misting against her skin. She just needs to wait it out, but she knows that Jamie has her. "Hey, it's alright," Jamie comforts. "I'll take the fall for it if they figure us out. You don't have to get so worked up about it."

Dani takes another breath, slower this time. She closes her eyes.

"Ah, well. It'd break poor Hannah's heart, wouldn't it? Last week she said your coffee was the best she's ever had, but we've all had our hearts broken a time or two, right? She'll get past it. You'll get past this, too." There's a small pause. "Won't you?"

Dani lets her shoulders sink. She takes another breath. She nods.

"It's weird having someone up in the morning with me. It's nice, really, I swear it, but sometimes m'like should I do my hair or wear a fancier shirt, but then I see you in your ugly Christmas sweaters even though it's mid-autumn and I think nah i'm good." Jamie hums a bit, to herself, like she knows she's getting through. She's figuring Dani out, piece by piece. "Your hair looks good when it's fluffy, though. Mine just sort of flails about. It's no fair you can roll out of bed and look artfully ruffled, when I just look like I'm falling apart. Especially considering I'm the stable one of us two."

Another pause.

Dani can feel a smile ghosting on the edges of her lips. She still wants to scream, but she's coming down.

"Listen, say the word and I'll take whatever's bothering you out in the backyard, give it a proper bashing, maybe feed it to my rose garden. Can finally give those fucking nightmares a purpose outside of being a pain in the ass." She stops talking again, but even when she's not saying words there's so much there, like she's respecting boundaries, wondering if what she said was okay or if she should keep going. Dani loves that about her too. "I was surprised, you know, when I first found out they're little vampires. That roses are. They sit there with their thorns out ready to prick you and take a drink the second you're lured in to touch them. I admire that, really—elegant and pretty, but still sort of deadly, in a way. It's like—" she pauses a long second, and suddenly Dani feels her closer, standing right beside her. When Dani closes her eyes at night, she never sees Jamie's face, but she can always remember her smell, how warm it is standing next to her, the sound of her voice, the outline of her shoulders. She pictures those now, sure and steady. "It's like they thrive a little bit on being difficult. Might remind you of someone you know."

Dani's smile suddenly breaks through, catching on her lips. Then she takes a deep, big breath, and finally, finally she feels light enough to talk again. She opens her eyes, and she's looking right at Jamie, red lips, messy curls, open flannel, sharp jaw, the things Dani never remembers; the things that always make her feel like she's falling in love all over again each time she sees Jamie. "Are you calling me a rose?" she asks. "That's a bit cliché, isn't it?"

"Oh, I meant Owen," Jamie smiles, "get too comfortable with him and suddenly everything you say is being switched around into a pun."

Dani smiles even bigger, lets her chest relax. "He does do that, doesn't he?"

"He does," Jamie nods, like her chest is relaxing, too. "Do we talk about it today?" Dani nibbles her lip, considering it, then she shakes her head. Jamie smiles. "Back to stealing coffee, then?"

Dani nods.

So, they go get coffee.

-

In between all of the Jamie, there's still her job and the kids, and Hannah and Owen, and their weekly wine and puzzle nights. She's building a family, or rather she stumbled into one, and it all feels so fast and sudden but also like home, like it's meant to be. Kids like us, she said to Miles once, it sucks most of the time, but the one good thing is that we get to pick our families. We get to fill our lives with people that make us feel safe and don't have to worry too much about severing faulty attachments. It was maybe a little too much for a ten-year-old, but it seems he got it. She's finally starting to get that too, letting her own words sink in. She's falling in love with everything and everyone around her, and sometimes she thinks that's why the nightmares have gotten worse over the past few weeks.

The better things get for her, the more guilty she feels.

She feels like her happiness is tainted. The first time she ever chose it over something else just happened to be the time she got the only person she's ever thought she loved - she doesn't like to think about it.

"You fancy a walk?" Jamie asks, as soon as Owen nuzzles closer to Hannah to help her sort out the corner she's working on. "I reckon I could use a bit of fresh air, nice night like this."

Dani's nodding before Jamie's done talking. She always takes her invitations. She likes being close to her, loves her company, but she's also not used to this whole Liking Girls Thing. So, she's still parsing apart if you fancy a walk is code for, you want to hold hands and make-out. She doubts it's the hidden message, but she's not taking in any chances on the stroke of luck that it is what Jamie means.

They don't hold hands, though. Or make out. Or touch at all, for that matter. Dani's really not sure if she's doing this right.

"They're lucky to have you," Jamie starts, voice coating over the still of the silence. "The kids. I see how much you pour over your lessons, how much you care about them. You say this is a transition, and maybe it is, but you're doing what you love and it's obvious."

"I am," Dani says. "I like what I'm doing. I like where I am." She looks at Jamie. "I like the people I'm keeping around me."

"So that's why you've graduated from nightmares to panic attacks, makes sense."

"It's complicated," Dani says, nibbling her lip.

"Rebecca," Jamie says.

"Who?"

"Before you, the hole in our family."

Dani doesn't want to talk about that, either. She sees how they check in on her, all of them, like she'll blow away in a cloud of smoke if they take their eyes off of her too long. Something tells her Rebecca did just that, and she just. She can't talk about it before she figures out her own shit. "Something bad happened and it's following me," she says, giving a little piece away, "but every day I wake up and I choose to be happy and I choose to do good. I can get through this, it's just hard. You don't have to worry."

"Telling me not to worry kind of has the opposite effect," Jamie smiles.

"Telling you to do anything has the opposite effect," Dani says, but then she smiles, too. "Just don't worry too much."

"Don't give me reason," Jamie shrugs, like it's as simple as that.

-

"I once lived off potatoes for an entire month," Owen says. "Mashed with butter and chives, quartered into lentil stew, fried, roasted, baked with pink salt, sweet onion, garlic—"

"You're really making me hungry," Jamie says, stirring the spaghetti sauce.

Dani looks up from skinning a potato, Owen's eyes twinkling at her. "Why a whole month of nothing else?"

"Because he had to," Hannah chimes in, mixing something up in a bowl. "Spent all his money on a culinary seminar and couldn't afford anything else."

"That's the dream, innit?" Jamie asks.

"Oh, I lived and breathed it," Owen says. "Nearly made it big, too. But then I was called home."

"It's alright, you're still big to us," Hannah smiles.

"Yeah, I've never seen someone make something out of nothing like you do," Jamie adds.

"They're too kind," Owen says to Dani. "But, if you ever want me to sneak a strawberry cream cheese sandwich into your lunch, let me know. Could put in extra for the kids."

"Oh, that would be lovely," Dani says.

"How are they?" Hannah asks. "It's an awful thing to lose your parents that young."

"They're so sweet," Dani says, melting a little just thinking about them. "The other day Flora made me a charm bracelet, said it was meant to keep me safe, and Miles is always showing me how to play Zelda or teaching me card tricks."

"Kids are sturdy like that," Jamie says, "world could end and they'd just bounce back the next day. They process change way before adults do, I've seen it."

"I think they'll be alright," Owen smiles, "but I'll send along little desserts for them, nonetheless. Too many sweets never hurt anyone, have they?"

"You don't see me complaining," Dani smiles, shaking her head. "Really, I'd love that."

She ends up alone with Jamie after dinner, her washing the dishes, Jamie drying, content in silence for a bit before Jamie asks, "How are you holding up with the whole thing, their parents being gone?"

"I'm alright," Dani says, which is mostly true. Sometimes she sees a picture of them on the wall and lingers too long, lets her mind slip too far. Sometimes Flora has a bad day or Miles has a bad morning and the stress of it gets to her enough she has to avoid her reflection, scared of what she might see. But she's getting through it. She's alright. "I'm managing."

"Alright, well I'm just asking because whenever I bring up Rebecca—" Dani closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. "—you do that. Not saying you have to talk about it, but I'm very gently checking in."

Dani opens her eyes again, scrubs some sauce off the dish she's holding, and lets herself appreciate being checked in on, cared about, no matter how hard it is to think about certain things. "Thanks. For checking in. And I'm okay, mostly. If it gets too bad, I'll say something."

"That's my worry," Jamie whispers, "you're so tough, I don't want to imagine what your too bad looks like."

"I'm tough?" Dani smiles.

"That wasn't the point of that sentence."

"I just like getting compliments from you," Dani tells her, handing a dish over.

"Just from me?"

"There's something special about it."

"I'm not that hard to please, am I?" Jamie asks. "It's not my intention."

"The opposite, honestly," Dani says.

"Oh, so I'm easy, then?"

"Not the point of that sentence."

Jamie smiles. "Touché, new girl. Watch a movie, once we're done?"

"Okay, you pick," Dani shrugs, and finds herself thinking that she really, really likes it here.

-

A week later on a Wednesday, she circles back to the house to grab a jacket—needs it since she's going apple picking with the kiddos and it's chilly at the orchard—but she's surprised to see Jamie there, bumbling down the steps into the hallway. She's even more surprised to see her carrying a cigarette. Dani can see from the way her eyes darken she's ashamed about it, so instead of mentioning it, she walks over, and—without thinking, really—she reaches out and fumbles it from Jamie's fingers. Then she shoves it in the front pocket of her jean jacket and asks, "You like apple picking?"

"I don't know anyone who doesn't," Jamie says, cheeks flushing a very dangerous shade of red.

"Well, I'm going with the kids today, they're actually outside, if you wanted to tag along."

"You're sure?"

"They'd love it," Dani says.

Jamie stares for a long second at the pocket on her jacket. "Listen, I wasn't—"

"Is this the first time?"

"Yeah, it was going to be. I won't pretend I wasn't going to follow through with it."

"Well, you didn't, so you're good. You're still on track," Dani decides, "and we don't have to talk about it. Apple picking?"

"Yeah, that sounds alright," Jamie says, breathing again. "I'll snag a cardigan."

It's a long ride to the orchard, and they spend most of it in silence—Miles in the front seat because he likes the view, Dani squished between Jamie and Flora in the back seat. She's the only one that can't seem to fall asleep, keeps thinking about Jamie's head on her shoulder, the mess of hair brushing her chin, the way she blushed in the hallway, the fact that she wants to turn and kiss the top of Jamie's head, put her hand on her thigh, pull her in. God, she just wants to touch her. But she doesn't.

She keeps her hands in her own lap, tries to breathe through her mouth, back stiff, head swirling.

She nearly shoves them out of the car once they're finally there.

"God, it's been ages," Jamie says, twisting an apple off the tree as they saunter through the granny smiths. "I remember being so small I mostly just picked them off the ground, ate them without washing or anything."

"Kids are so free," Dani says, watching across from them where Flora and Miles are playing tag. "As long as you're with people you love, everything just feels safe, like you're shielded from anything ever happening." 

"You should be. Kids should be allowed to grow up feeling safe."

"Yeah," Dani agrees, fixing her eyes on Jamie now. It's late enough in the season that all the leaves are pretty colors, and Jamie looks so good against them that Dani has to look away. She looks at Jamie's boots instead, her cuffed pants, the leaves littering the grass. Jamie always makes her feel so many things all at once, and she never knows what to do with it. "We can look at the raspberries when we're done with apples," she says. "I saw they have gourds too, and donuts and cider, huge pumpkins; bet Owen could fix us up something nice with fresh ingredients."

"He'd love to, I'm sure," Jamie says, just as Flora comes running over, bag of apples nearly tripping her with each step.

Dani looks up and gives her a smile. "Ms. Clayton," she says, "It's such a nice day, isn't it? Perfectly splendid."

"It is a nice day," Dani agrees, smile stretching out her face.

"It's made me think," Flora says, straightening up her body. "About fairytales," she adds and melts a bit. "And about love."

"Love?" Dani asks. "That's a big one."

Flora nods enthusiastically. "When I grow up, I'll fall in love, and it'll be just like in the fairytales."

"I don't know, sweetheart. I don't think those are very good at showing love," Jamie says sweetly, bending down so she's eye-level with Flora, fixing the twist in her cardigan. "They're more like, adoration or something like that."

"What's adoration?" Flora asks.

"It's like um," Jamie pauses, looking at Dani like a lifeline. Dani just shrugs at her, smiling, encouraging her to go on. Jamie smiles back, sucking in a long breath, then she looks to Flora again, clears her throat. "Right, yeah, it's uh - I guess it's a bit like infatuation, you know. It's like being enamored, but it's not really love."

"What's love then?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Jamie chuckles, laugh fading a bit when Flora just keeps blinking at her, once she sees it's an actual, honest question. That's what Dani loves the most about children, they just ask about everything, unironically, objectively taking in information and synthesizing it. It takes Jamie a second to recover, but finally she says, "I guess, it's like—most people think loves this grand thing, that it's exciting, but it's not. Not exactly. It's just compromise and sacrifice, watching reruns of cooking shows on Netflix and going to the market for toilet tissue on Saturday nights. It's looking at the same person every day for years and still feeling like they're the only one in the room. It's - it's just boring, really, once you think about it. But it's good."

Flora looks at Jamie a second, like she's considering that, then she perks up and blinks over at Dani. "Ms. Clayton," she chirps.

"Yes, Flora?"

"One day I'll fall in love, and we'll go to the market for toilet tissue," Flora says, then she turns around and skips away.

Jamie stands up slow, mouth hanging open, blinking wide. "Oh that's dangerous," she says. "They're like little parrots, repeating everything you say, aren't they? I feel like I admire you for like - " she shakes her head like she's lost for words. "I don't know, I think I'd just mess them up."

"No, that was amazing," Dani says, walking forward so she can knock shoulders with Jamie.

"You reckon?"

"Yeah, totally. That was good. I mean, the only thing we can do is give them the right words and wait for the day they find the meaning behind them. It'll hit her one day, and then you'll be a legend in her mind, an old story."

"I can imagine it now," Jamie says slowly, "twenty-year-old Flora saying me childhood tutor's lady friend once said love is just toilet tissue. That's exactly what I want to be remembered for if m'honest with myself."

"Mmm," Dani hums, letting her weight fall against Jamie, sinking into the solidity of her. "You know you're quite soft underneath all that hard," she says, close enough to pick up the smell of vanilla and autumn and outdoors in Jamie's hair. "You're not fooling me for a second."

"Hey now," Jamie flushes, cheeks lighting up so beautifully Dani can't take her eyes off of them. She just wants to kiss the little splotches, feel the warmth of the blood. "Don't go tellin' Hannah and Owen that. I have a reputation here."

"Wait until they hear about you explaining love to a little girl. Owen won't let you live it down. You won't be the grump of the house anymore."

"And who's going to fill that hole, then?" Jamie asks, smiling, nibbling her pretty lip. "There'll be a like, a malfunction, yeah? A glitch in the Matrix. We're a well-oiled machined, don't you know."

"Fine," Dani says, smiles, stepping away just a little bit, enough to put space between them but not enough she couldn't still reach out and touch Jamie. "I think I like you grumpy, anyway. That cute little frown you get when the plants aren't going your way."

"Some might mistake that for flirting, Ms. Clayton."

"Flirting," Dani scoffs, scandalized. "You wouldn't dare accuse me of flirting with my lady friend."

"Well, I'm a lady and I'm your friend, so—"

She cuts off the second Dani grabs her hand. They don't break eye contact, or even blink, the steady heartbeat of the wind rustling the leaves around them. It's just Dani holding Jamie's fist for a few seconds, clenched tight as Dani runs a thumb across her knuckles, but there's static, electricity, some unseeable force supercharging the moment. Dani's never done this before—never thrown her heart on the ground at the feet of a girl and begged for mercy, but she can't not try with Jamie. She's fucking falling apart, though, a wonder she's not shaking and making a complete idiot of herself. She didn't know that just the slightest amount of skin touching skin could make her feel this hot or fluttery or lightheaded, but her legs just about give out when Jamie opens her hand and squeezes back.

They're holding hands, and it shouldn't be a big deal, but Dani's belly is on the ground. "Let's find the honeycrisps, yeah? Hannah loves those," Jamie says, and she doesn't let go when she starts walking. It's not like Dani would let her anyway, but it's important to note that Jamie holds on.

She rests her hand on Jamie's thigh on the ride home, heart in her throat, chest constricted, ear tips heated up the entire time because she's never actually touched a girl. But she fucking loves it.

-

"I want boring," she says to Jamie, head poked just inside the door to Jamie's room as Jamie shoulders off her cardigan.

"You want what?" Jamie asks, looking up.

Dani clears her throat, thinks about rephrasing, but just ends up repeating it. "I want boring."

Jamie looks at her a second, then a slow smile spreads across her face like it's dawning on her. "Alright, new girl. Noted."

"I'm not so new anymore," Dani says.

"Unfortunately," Jamie laughs.

Dani ducks her head, feels her cheeks flushing. She should head to bed. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that."

"Alright," Jamie says, "well I heard it."

"Cool," Dani says, then she turns and walks away.

She makes it three steps before Jamie's grabbing her hand and tugging her back into the room. They barely make it through the door before they're crowded too close together, Dani's back against the wall, Jamie solid in front of her.

Her eyes look frantic like she's fighting an entire war behind them, like she's losing it. "It was easy to quit smoking at first," she says out of nowhere. "I thought it'd be hard since it was such a stuck-in habit. Everyday I'd just stand on the back porch, have a smoke, look at the garden, alone and brooding, but then it became our thing, you know, standing on the porch, and I didn't want to taint that with something else. I didn't even think about it anymore, just think about you, really. All the time."

Dani feels the blood flood to her ears, like a wave, a sudden rush that makes her feel dizzy. It's too perfect, and her life isn't allowed to be perfect, so she feels her heart squeezing and tells it to wait, not now.

"But then, I went and confused myself because m'really good at messing things up, and so I was really good at convincing me that you - you don't - I got it in my head this was just a fantasy and I needed a smoke, because you're like - like a dream, you know."

Too perfect.

"I keep thinking I'll wake up and it'll be morning and you're gone."

Too perfect.

"But, I don't - I think - god, I don't know what I'm even saying anymore, I just—"

That's good enough. Dani leans in and kisses her. It's desperate and messy from the start, flowing out of them like blood from a fresh cut, hungry and uncoordinated. They both lead tongue first, mouths clashing together, Dani's hands on Jamie's elbows as Jamie touches her everywhere like she's lake water after days of dehydration. Too much salt, Dani thinks, she'll never quench that thirst, but it doesn't matter because Jamie doesn't know that, because Jamie's kissing her so deep she feels like she's disintegrating. She tastes like apples and maple donuts, too much cider and dreams come true. She feels so fucking good, Dani didn't know it was possible to drown without water, but here she is filling up, flooding her lungs, sucking breaths from Jamie because she's all out of air.

She licks into her mouth like it's the last thing she'll ever taste, like she's getting the last drop from the tequila glass after the bartender says she's cut off, like there's a second left in the song and she's all out of quarters for the jukebox. Then Jamie presses in, slows it down, holds her firm, nibbles her lip, tugs her hair. And suddenly, they're in sync, moving together, making noises together, warm wet slick, breathing in-out-in-out together together together, it's fucking perfect. Too fucking perfect. Dani realizes it too late, then her mind flicks, and she sees Eddie, like an omen, car lights in his glasses—why does she deserve this, and he deserved that—she can't breathe, and this time it's not good.

"Fuck." She mumbles it right between Jamie's lips, then ducks her head away. "I have to go, I have to - just let me walk away."

"Alright," Jamie says fast, shocked, surprised, hurt maybe as she takes a step back. "You're free, I'm not - you can go."

Dani doesn't look up as she turns and leaves the room. She can't look at her face.

Her heart is fucking hammering.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Dani feels like a solitary source of light in a sea of black, a lone streetlamp on a two-mile stretch of country road at midnight, a bioluminescent fish on the ocean floor. She feels like she's reaching out for something to grab on to but keeps clawing at the edge of nothing, darkness. If a girl falls apart in her own head and never says anything, does she still make a sound when she hits the ground? Once, when Dani was little, there was a storm so bad all the lights went out in her subdivision, and she woke up to the realization of what true darkness felt like. It was suffocating. She could feel her pupils growing wider wider wider trying to abstract light from anything they could around her, panicking when they couldn't.

She thinks about that sometimes.

She thinks about the fact that darkness is always there before light and always lingers after it's gone. She thinks about it hiding in shadows and corners, under beds, in closets. She thinks about it hiding inside of people, not serial killers, murderers, but regular people, ones that wake up and just go to work every day. She thinks about it hiding inside herself.

She's felt so alone these past few years.

She keeps running away from things she can't get away from, but she never likes to tell herself she can't, only that she can. She thinks maybe that's a problem, but then she doesn't think about it too long. She just keeps feeling around in the dark, hoping something will catch. She doesn't know if she believes in god, but sometimes she reaches out to him too, if he's willing to listen. Mostly, she makes a lot of promises, proposes a lot of simple requests: if you give me someone to love i'll hold on tight and never let go, i have a lot to give if you only let me show you, i really don't want to die so could you make it a little easier to somehow keep living. But no one's ever answered, so she's gone years waking up with her chest feeling like the hollowed-out expanse of an empty parking garage.

It's different now, though. She knows that.

In a lot of ways, her job and this house and Jamie feel like the universe finally got around to taking her ticket.

In a lot of ways, she feels like she messed all of that up tonight, and even if she didn't then maybe it's a sign that she will. 

She thinks she's being a bit dramatic, mostly, but she hasn't slept or even climbed in her bed yet, back pressed against it as she digs her fingers in the carpet and tries not to close her eyes because she keeps seeing Jamie's lips. She's just been thinking thinking thinking the way you do when something bad happens and your brain spirals and suddenly you're the conductor of your own melancholy symphony. And she knows what's happening, can feel it, but she can't do anything about it.

So, she sits on the floor with sadness draping over her like a weighted blanket, feeling bad for herself, sinking lower and lower until her light's completely snuffed out, and only then does something finally click inside her brain: there's no better time to dream than when surrounded by darkness. When the light turns off in one world, it just opens the door to another, and the possibilities never really stop being endless. She's falling in love with Jamie, real love, not forced or prayed for or convenient—because is it ever really fucking convenient—it's just there. In her chest. And that's worth trying and failing for, and trying again just to fail again, because she knows with a little bit of patience, she can get it right.

She can get it right.

She can get it right.

She can.

So, she sucks a breath in, smears her tears off her cheeks, watches the hand tick past 5:22 on her watch, and gets off the floor.

Jamie obviously isn't expecting her to walk in the kitchen because she stops blinking when Dani catches her eye.

"Hey," she says.

"Hi," Dani says, twisting her hands together so Jamie can't see them shaking.

"I didn't think you were coming out today."

"Yeah?"

"You sprinted out of my room fast enough, so. Fair assumption, I think."

The tops of Dani's ears start to burn. "Sorry, that was - it was - I'm okay now."

"Okay," Jamie says, unfolding her arms to grip the countertop behind her. She doesn't sound convinced and Dani looks at the floor when they stand in silence too long, which doesn't help. "Well, I'm not really in the mood to go out today, didn't get much sleep last night," she says after a bit, and Dani looks up because she wants to say something, anything, but Jamie adds, "So, if you don't mind, could just make us up a batch of the terrible stuff, and we pretend it's alright. Since, you know, we're pretending we're alright."

"Oh." Dani melts a little. Jamie melts too, all of her sharp edges falling away, until she looks soft enough that Dani only wants to barrel into her chest, force a hug, be held. Instead, she starts toward the opposite end of the counter to make coffee. "I've never talked to anyone about it."

"The way you desecrate coffee? Obviously. You wouldn't have said you're great at it so boldly."

Dani smiles to herself, pulling the coffee beans from the cabinet. Jamie's giving her an out, and that's enough to make her want to let Jamie in. "I meant the reason I have the nightmares."

"I know," Jamie says, "but I made sure to put on my listening ears today if you think you're ready."

Dani nods. "I think I am." She picks up the jar of beans, thumbing over the imprint in the glass as she turns toward Jamie, clears her throat. "I've never - I haven't actually - I never told anyone what happened." She pauses, but just slightly, to gather her words because she's realizing they're not hard to find, but rather lining up to fumble out of her. She wants to tell Jamie because she feels safe telling Jamie. "My fiancé died. A few years ago. In front of me."

"Jesus," Jamie mutters, moving toward Dani like it's instinct, like she'd feel Dani's pain for her if she could. Dani realizes now that she's maybe stuck in this space between falling in love and giving in to it, and maybe Jamie's already past that, maybe she gave in a while ago and Dani's just now opening her eyes to it.

"Yeah," Dani says, breathes, looks down, rubs the imprint on the jar again. Jamie's close enough she can smell her now, and that gives her a little more confidence. "I've gotten so many cards and letters and emails and texts, looks, long hugs of condolences, but what people don't know is that we broke up right before he died. Literally, right before," Dani clarifies, and she hears Jamie's breath catch. "It was a freak accident, but sometimes I feel like he died because I put us there, because I didn't love him, because I couldn't love him—"

"Dani—"

"No, I know that's not - it's not fair to me, and it's not healthy to think, but—" she falls in love with girls at the bus stop, but she couldn't fall in love with her lifelong best friend. "—he was so good and kind and he did and said the right things, and he was funny, and. I still wasn't happy with him, and I couldn't love him even though I tried. And then I moved here and I'm happy, I'm so happy, and falling for you has been the easiest thing I've ever done. And," she looks up, presses her thumb hard enough against the imprint she can feel it denting her skin, "I just feel so guilty. Every day I close my eyes and I see him. The more I fall for you, the more I see him, and—"

"Dani—"

"My happiness and my feelings, they just feel tainted somehow, like they're not right, and—"

"Dani," Jamie says again, this time grabbing her shoulders to quiet her. Dani just blinks at her, breathing slowly, waiting for her to say the one thing she's needed someone else to say, someone that's not herself. "Death has a funny way of sneaking under your skin, especially when it's close to you. It makes you superstitious almost, like whatever you were doing when it happened or heard it happened, it somehow gets linked to it. And that's okay at first, it's how we deal with it, how we make sense of things. But as much as it feels like the universe revolves around you and your actions, it doesn't. He didn't die because you're into girls, and he won't come back if you tell yourself you're not. If you had that sort of power, you'd be god, and I don't think you really want that job, do you?" Dani laughs a little because it's funny, because it's Jamie, because the tension is leaving her body with each breath she takes. "Look, grieving is a process and you do it how you do it, there's no right or wrong way, but it's okay that this feels easy. It's okay to be happy. It's okay."

"It's okay," Dani nods, and she managed to make it this far without crying, but suddenly her cheeks feel damp, cold against the air, so she lets herself fall forward, presses her face against Jamie's neck. "It's okay."

"It's okay," Jamie repeats, running her knuckles down Dani's back. "You'll be alright, and that's not so scary, is it?"

"It's not with you," Dani says, and she can feel Jamie's laugh shake against her body.

"Still an incorrigible flirt even when you're breaking down."

"It's just the truth," Dani says, and hugs Jamie tighter.

They end up on the couch together, Dani's head in Jamie's lap as Jamie fingers through the mess of her hair, and when Dani closes her eyes and sees Eddie, she doesn't pull away. Eventually, she waits long enough he disappears, and then there's just Jamie, lingering like darkness, welcoming Dani's dreams.

-

Ironically, she goes to the market with Hannah to shop for toilet tissue on Saturday night.

"I think we're a lot of the same," Hannah says, neatly organizing the groceries in the cart.

Dani smiles, clutching a bag of chocolate chips to her chest, doesn't want to drop them in and mess up the system. "How so?" she asks, "I mean, any way I'm like you is a compliment, but—"

"Don't be silly," Hannah laughs, "I'm nothing special, but I think - actually, we're both sort of special in our own way." She pauses for a breath, or just because she's Hannah and she takes her time with things. Dani loves that about her, the calm, the open air. "Most people just want to take everything they can from this world," she goes on, "but some of us like to give. People like me and you, we live for others, and that's rare."

"Oh," Dani says. She never really thought about it that way. It feels like this is the first time anyone has ever looked at her close enough to even notice that. "You know, you and Owen and Jamie, especially, you're teaching me a lot about love and family, and. It's weird but I want to say thank you."

"Oh, you don't have to thank us."

"I know," Dani says, "but I'm going to, anyway. I don't know where I'd be without you, all of you."

"Somewhere else making the world better, I reckon," Hannah says, and Dani laughs, small, blushing. "What do you say we surprise them with their favorite desserts, Owen and Jamie?"

"That would be nice," Dani says.

"I think so, too."

-

She spends a lot of time in Jamie's room after their talk, invading her space, reading her books, listening to Naughty by Nature on her high school iPod, stealing little kisses. It feels happy and boring, perfectly fucking boring.

"I don't know about you, but I've spent most of my life pretty confused," Dani says one night, sitting up in Jamie's bed, Jamie's head on her shoulder.

"If you're not confused most of your life, you're doing something wrong," Jamie says, turning to kiss Dani's shoulder and then her neck, and when she lifts to kiss her jaw, Dani turns so their lips touch. Jamie smiles right against her mouth. "You have to be mental to think you have it figured out," she says when she pulls away, lips glistening. "But that's part of the fun, innit? Chasing answers that might not be there."

"You seem like you have it figured out," Dani whispers, finding Jamie's hand to lace their fingers together.

"It's because most of my friends are plants," Jamie says, and Dani laughs. "No, really. They're a lot easier to get along with. As far as being confused, though," she goes back to, "I don't think I had much of anyone around to hammer in I was supposed to be a certain way. So, some things felt more natural than others, and I went with it."

"I thought if I tried hard enough that things would just fall into place. That's why I waited so long, until I was engaged and had a dress picked out and a venue planned and hearts to break."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Jamie says. "We always hear about love being hard work, but they never tell us which part is supposed to be hard. Personally, I think wanting it should be easy. If you don't want it, everything else is impossible."

Dani shakes her head. "I didn't want it, not like he did."

"I know," Jamie says, kissing the corner of her mouth, then they settle in again and they're silent for a long while.

Dani finds that they're silent together a lot. Not in a bad way, like they don't have enough to talk about, but in a comfortable way. It doesn't feel like they always have to be talking, good enough just being next to each other.

"Owen wants to ask Hannah to Paris," Jamie says, a little while later. "Poor guy thinks she might actually say no, like it's even possible for her with him."

"You're serious?" Dani asks, smiling. That makes her heart feel whole for some reason. "Does that mean, like—"

"Yeah, we should have the house to ourselves for a little bit," Jamie says, and Dani shoves her, both of them giggling. "I don't know. I think they're doing what makes them happy, moving their own pace and I don't want to mess with it."

"Okay, but Hannah would plan the best wedding," Dani says, "and Owen would pick the best food."

"Are you saying we should encourage it? For free food?" Jamie quirks her brow.

"No," Dani says slowly. "Because they love each other, obviously, but - I don't know, I just."

"I know, alright. Trust me, I've been living with them for ages, but it'll get there. Not everyone's lucky enough to be pursued by a little shark, are they?"

"Shark?" Dani laughs, nudging Jamie with her forehead.

"Yeah, you're always on the move, can't sit still," Jamie says. "I put you to bed the other night and you were at my door thirty minutes later. You just dive in, headfirst, anything you do. It's endearing, really."

"You sound smitten," Dani points out. "And I know you were happy I came back."

"That's beside the point," Jamie laughs.

"I want to take you to Paris," Dani says, "and New York and Colorado and California. I want to see the world with you."

"And I'm the one that's smitten?"

"Nothing I said negates that."

"I want to see the world with you, too," Jamie says.

"Okay, then we will someday," Dani decides, and then they relax again, silent again.

Dani's happy, and that's okay. When she closes her eyes, she rarely sees Eddie anymore, and that's okay too.

Chapter Text

It's funny how a month turns into two months, how it turns into three, then four and five, and suddenly Dani's tangled in this life she can't imagine being away from. At first, she thought about it all the time, the newness of it, paused for a moment of appreciation every time she caught herself comfortably making cakes with Owen or tending to the garden with Jamie, sitting at the little table in the backyard basking in the sun with Hannah. But now it's just second nature when she falls asleep on Owen's other shoulder during movie night or when she seeks out Hannah for advice or to have an ear to vent to. And curling around Jamie at night feels like fucking breathing at this point.

This is just her life, it's finally settling in for her, and she wouldn't give any of it up for the world.

This is all to explain why she maybe falls apart a little bit when she has to spend a night with the kids, when the au pair gets sick and her boss asks hopefully if she can hang around to help with Flora's nightmares. She's pathetic, really, after she puts them to sleep, pouting and wandering the large hallways alone, like she doesn't know how to sleep without Jamie, or entertain herself, or think of anything but snuggling and kisses and how much of it she's missing. 

She makes it an entire hour before she breaks. 

"I'm so bored," Dani says when Jamie picks up the phone, lying on her back on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

Jamie laughs. "Is that it, then? You were only keeping me around for entertainment?"

"I thought it was obvious. You're the only one that drinks my coffee."

"I'm sure I've seen Hannah drink it a time or two."

Dani sighs and rolls over on her belly on the floor. "She doesn't, really. She just puts it to her lips and pretends."

Jamie snorts. "You're joking, oh god you're not joking. That's such a Hannah thing to do."

"Yeah, I can't blame her. It's really gross, isn't it?"

"Well, it's better than before, I think. Unless I'm just acquiring a taste to it, oh no," Jamie giggles. "I think we should revert back to our covert operations, go back to stealing it again."

"Yeah," Dani sighs. She feels even more pathetic hearing Jamie's laugh. She misses her maybe more than she should. "But who's going to keep you company at five in the morning? You'll be all alone, and—"

"Hey, I'm fine, I'll be," Jamie cuts her off, then stops mid-sentence. Dani swears she can hear her softening. "Why don't you tell me about your day?" she asks instead. "How were Miles and Flora, any nightmares yet?"

"It was a good day," Dani says, "had fun, nothing out of the ordinary, really. And there haven't been any nightmares so far, from her or from me. Spent most of the night listening to made-up stories, playing dolls and making paper planes. I let them have hot chocolate, which seemed like a mistake, but for all the energy they had they were out like a light by bedtime. Everything is going great, I just. Can't sleep." Not without you, Dani wants to add, but it feels too desperate almost, like she might push Jamie away if she says it. This is the first time she's ever really been in love, and she wants to feel it fully, but she doesn't want to be suffocating. "Maybe it'd help if you told me a story?"

There are other things she wants to ask: if Jamie could come over right this second, if they could somehow spend the night together, if they can make it so they don't have to sleep apart tonight. But she doesn't ask. There'll be other nights, she keeps reminding herself, and they'll spend those together. If there's one thing she's learned the last few years of running from her past it's that sometimes the scary part of life isn't that it's short, but that it's long. That it drags on forever, year after year after year never-ending. She wants that with Jamie, she wants the drag.

"Alright," Jamie says, and Dani hears something shift, like Jamie's settling down somewhere, probably in their bed. "I have the perfect story for you, I think. One about a brave little tutor and two lovely small children spending the night all alone in an old house filled with ghosts."

Dani giggles, pressing her face against her arm, cheeks flushed. "A ghost story?"

"If you listen close enough, it might be a love story," Jamie says, and her smile is obvious even through the phone. "C'mon, then. Tuck yourself in. You'll be listening to my voice all night, should be comfortable, yeah?"

"Yeah," Dani echoes, scooping herself off the floor so she can crawl into the bed. As soon as she's warm under the covers she lets her head sink into the pillow, and she says, "You promise? You'll stay on the whole night?"

"Of course, I'll be here until I hear you snoring, might even stick around a little bit after."

"Thanks," Dani whispers.

"Yeah, well, I'm doing this for myself too, aren't I?" Jamie says. 

"Because you miss me?"

Jamie just laughs, but it's soft, suggesting maybe it's obvious. Something warm settles inside Dani, smoothing over whatever fear she had about scaring Jamie away earlier. They have their hooks in each other and getting away from that probably won't be so easy. She doesn't wait for Jamie to answer her dumb question before she says, "Okay, I'm tucked in. I want to hear the story now."

So Jamie tells her. Carefully painting out every single detail.

At some point Dani checks out, listening to the sound of Jamie's voice but not really the individual words, mind drifting away to other things. She keeps thinking how Jamie once said it's dangerous to make a home out of other people, that tacking forever onto a moving object just isn't very smart. And Dani understood that on some level, even more so considering how rough Jamie had it growing up, but the full weight of it doesn't really sink in for her until this moment. Until she's bunched underneath the covers in this old mansion, grasping at a warm chunk of inner piece she didn't know existed until a few weeks ago. She's attaching forever to Jamie, but unlike a hometown that'll keep the same library and the same three diners for the next eighty years, Jamie's going to change. She'll change in small ways, maybe even big ways too, and she maybe won't fit in the same holes in the end as she did in the beginning. The problem with that for Dani is that she doesn't care. She wants to watch Jamie change, hopes she does, so she gets to fall in love all over again with every little new thing about her.

She wants to be there when Jamie realizes she likes mint chocolate chip over pistachio ice cream. She wants to be there through all the different hairstyles, musical phases and style changes, for the way her face ages and shifts over the years, for the cracks in her old voice and the smile lines. She wants to make a home out of Jamie, wants to stick through the good and the bad, and maybe that is dangerous. But she doesn't care.

"You still with me?" Jamie asks.

Dani hums, then mumbles something completely incoherent into the phone, hands too heavy to rub her eyes open. "Mmhm," she manages after a bit.

"Just go to sleep, alright? I'll still be here, I swear."

"Yeah, okay, love you," Dani mumbles, and passes out without another thought.

-

"Croissants!" Dani exclaims, as soon as she stumbles into the kitchen.

She spent most of the night with her face pressed into Jamie's shirt, taking in her scent and enjoying being smashed against her again. She ended up staying an extra two days to help out with the kiddos, so returning to the house felt like she was just making it back from the Hundred Years' War. Jamie didn't even give her shit about her pout, just kissed it away and ran her fingers through Dani's hair until it finally started to sink in she's home again. She must have been fucking worn out, because she's just now gracing the world with her presence and it's half-past eleven.

"Yeah," Owen says with just as much enthusiasm, smiling wide at Dani. It's probably just an automatic response to seeing Dani home again, but it feels lovely. "For your return. I know they're your favorite."

"Oh, even better," Dani says, slipping into the chair next to Jamie at the table.

Hannah smiles at her too, and it's like a direct dose of sunshine. "How were the children?"

"They were lovely, as always," Dani gushes, "just missed home a little."

"And here we thought you'd finally run away from us," Owen says. "It was Hannah's idea to bribe you with treats."

"It's not a bribe," Hannah laughs, rolling her eyes. "We just missed you, too. Thought it'd be a nice surprise."

"It's the best surprise," Dani says, grabbing a croissant and biting into one, humming as it melts in her mouth, chocolate filled center. "God, I love these so much," she says, muffled. "I love all of your cooking, Owen."

"I see you love a lot of things," Jamie says, and Dani flushes when she looks up just for Jamie to wink at her. She was really hoping it was just a dream and she hadn't actually let that slip. "But these really are incredible."

"Let's hope I'm as impressive at work," Owen says, "I'm being watched for a promotion. They're opening up a new location downtown and I'm on the shortlist for executive chef. Finally graduating from chopping vegetables."

"It's a shame they had you there in the first place," Dani says, swallowing and taking another bite. "I can clean up the kitchen. Since you did all the work, and this was all for me."

"No, it's okay," Hannah says fast. "You've been dealing with children full time; you deserve some rest. We'll handle the cleanup. Besides, it's how I clear my head."

"A lot on your mind lately?" Jamie asks.

Hannah shrugs. "It's just, you know, so close. To Rebecca—" she stops short.

"Yeah," Jamie says, nodding. "I suppose it is, I just hadn't let myself—" she sighs, then, "You know, we should organize something, a way to commemorate. Another bonfire, maybe?"

"A bonfire?" Dani asks, swallowing again.

"A bit of a toast to the dead," Owen tells her. "A way to talk about the things we've lost, remember them, really."

"I think that sounds like a great idea," Hannah says, perking up a little. "I love a good bonfire, great way to come together. Reminds me of when I was a little girl."

"It's settled, then," Jamie says. "I'll bring the cheap wine, and Owen will bring the expensive stuff from the restaurant. Dani will hopefully forget to bring the coffee, and we'll have ourselves a night."

"Good, then," Hannah smiles, lifting herself from the table. "I'm going to get started on the kitchen."

She walks away and Dani waits a second before she asks, "Will she be alright?"

"Yeah, she'll come around," Owen smiles, "I'll make sure of it."

"I'm sure you will," Jamie teases. "When is Paris happening, or do you still have cold feet?"

"I don't have cold feet; I just want the moment to be right. It has to be perfect, you know. Like baking. When it all comes together beautifully, chemistry."

"The chemistry is there," Dani giggles. "She's just waiting for you to pull your head out of your butt already."

"Is that so?" Owen laughs.

"Look Owen," Jamie says, leaning forward. "If she doesn't say yes at this point, you can just give the tickets to me and Dani. It's not a total loss, is it?"

Owen smiles even wider, tapping his fingers on the table. "Soon, okay?"

"I'll hold you to it," Jamie smiles.

"Me too," Dani adds on.

"Okay, okay," Owen says, pushing away from the table. "I better go help her, can't let her think I don't know how to clean up my own messes. I mean, I don't, but it's the appearances, right?"

Dani just laughs, and Jamie nudges her. "Yeah, speaking of - this one has to help me tidy my room."

"Yep," Dani says, grabbing another croissant for the road. She's catching on enough to know that does mean they're going to hold hands and make-out.

"You two are shameless," Owen laughs, clapping his hands together and smiling. Apparently, the whole house knows what it means at this point. "I suppose I'll see you for dinner?"

"I suppose we should work up an appetite, then," Jamie says.

Dani nearly chokes on her croissant.

"I didn't mean it," she says, once they're back in Jamie's room with the door shut. "What I said that night on the phone, I didn't - it just came out. Something you say at the end of a call."

"Yeah?" Jamie asks, looking over her shoulder briefly before she grabs a record off the small couch in the corner of her room, shoving it into its sleeve. "That makes sense."

No it doesn't, Dani wants to yell. The only thing that's ever made sense in her life is the fact that she loves Jamie. She watches Jamie sleeve another record, watches her put them in their crate, and then she watches Jamie straighten the pillows on the couch before she decides she's had enough of the silence. "Maybe I did mean it."

"Oh?" Jamie pauses, then she lifts up and turns around, folds her arms, and - she's smirking. Of course, she's smirking. The little turd. "What is it, then? Can't make up your mind?"

"I just - I feel dumb," Dani says, nibbling her lip, shrinking into her shoulders. She knows what her head is telling her, what her body's telling her, but she doesn't know how to know it's... real? That it isn't fleeting, maybe. She doesn't know when's the right time to say it, so maybe that's just now. "I mean, it's so early, right? It's too early to say it, but I've felt this like, pull, to you ever since I met you, and. I don't know, it's like—"

Jamie snorts. "Love at first sight?"

Dani feels her cheeks heat up like she's on fire. "No, I - Jamie," she whines. She feels so fucking flustered and small, and her voice sounds it when she starts talking again. "I wasn't saying that, I'm just. I'm trying to - I don't—"

"Aw, baby," Jamie coos, smile splitting across her face. She rushes forward and grabs Dani's waist, pulls her against her chest. Dani melts into her, letting her weight fall against Jamie. "I didn't mean to make you stumble during your love speech, but it's adorable, innit?"

"It is?" Dani asks. She hates this, how she feels every feeling with Jamie all at once every single day. "How?"

Jamie squeezes her tighter. "I mean, we make fun of Owen for not seeing it's obvious with Hannah, but you can't even see it's obvious with me."

"Really?" Dani asks. It feels like the air in the room is pressurized, like the airplane door just closed and Dani's ears are popping waiting for Jamie to respond. Which takes entirely too many seconds.

"If you could feel my heart beating," Jamie finally says. "I'm surprised you couldn't read it on me this whole time."

Jesus. Dani pulls up so she can look at Jamie, flushed cheeks and all. "Okay, but, to be fair," she says, "your obvious is a little less obvious than my obvious, okay? So. Maybe you should have said it first."

"And miss out on this?" Jamie quirks a brow. Dani frowns at her. She can be firm when she wants to be. "Damn, I wish you weren't so cute," Jamie gushes, "but I love you, right? I love you. And it is obvious, considering Hannah and Owen have been giving me shit for it the whole time you've been gone."

Dani melts in her hands. "Even Hannah?"

"I believe she called it lost puppy, storm cloud at the carnival, dropped ice cream, something like that."

"Something like that," Dani giggles, mimicking her accent. "I love you, too. And not just as an end of call thing."

"You didn't need to clarify," Jamie tells her. "I think I got that." 

"Whatever," Dani says. Her heart is fluttering, and she just wants to tease Jamie since she knows she's more nervous than she's letting on right now. "Right, so, like, now that we're in love, the whole world is open to us, yeah? Next we're gonna adopt ten abandoned plants, and then maybe a dog and two cats, a ficus! We could name them all, Jeckle and Sunny and Amelia, oh I love that name. We could also get a little car, a fixer-upper that keeps breaking down and we have cheeky little jokes about it. We can name that, too."

"For the purpose of stopping this conversation I'm going to kiss you," Jamie says, and before Dani can get another word in Jamie's leaning forward and catching her lips in a kiss.

The internal debate of keep teasing or be kissed lasts for all of three seconds before Dani melts into it, tangling her fingers in Jamie's hair, opening her mouth so Jamie can lick into it. After three days of extreme separation, Dani can't help herself, can still feel the loneliness on her skin even after an entire night of being latched to Jamie like a leech. So, she kisses Jamie hard, touching their tongues together, biting her lip. She tries to lean into her, but Jamie stumbles back, and then they're laughing against each other's mouths. Dani pulls up and Jamie just, looks so pretty: red cheeks with bright red, crushed lips, glassy eyes, christ. "I know it was just a few days, but I don't know how I survived without you that long. Is that too much to say? Is that okay? God, I hope it's okay."

Jamie rolls her eyes, shaking her head, the pretty smile she always gets when Dani's being ridiculous spreading across her mouth. "I wore your jean jacket to the market," she says shyly. "And if that's not too much, then I reckon just missing me a bit is fine."

Dani kisses her again, this time pulling them both back until they're fumbling onto the bed. Their legs get tangled, but their mouths are practically glued to each other, Dani's hands fisting in Jamie's sweater, little sounds escaping her mouth. Kissing feels so much different now that she's with Jamie. Before it was just something Dani thought you did when you liked a person, something that wasn't inherently sexy, but you did it before sex and it was soft and kind of wet and sometimes she'd get a tingle in her belly if Eddie bit her lip. But kissing Jamie makes her feel like she's being turned inside out, like there's a beast clawing at her skin trying to make its way to open air, and sometimes it's so much it gets overwhelming. She has to close her eyes just to calm it down, roll her hips, clench her thighs together. She supposes this is what the excitement was about back in high school, why her only girl friend smiled so big when she said Chris the baseball player put his hand up her shirt. Dani feels like she's dying any time Jamie gets a hand under her shirt.

She feels like she's dying now, squirming as Jamie gets her pinned to the bed, kissing along Dani's neck. "I want to hold you down," Jamie says, and Dani blushes at the added weight of Jamie heavily pinning her thigh. "I hope that doesn't sound weird, but it's just. I want to hold you down and kiss you a bit, kiss you everywhere, now that I have you here again. I don't want to let you get away from me."

"Oh, okay," Dani says, because she doesn't know what else to say to that. Jamie rolls her hips and bites against her neck, and Dani has to blink herself back to focus, fingers curling in Jamie's sweater so tight she can feel the blood leaving them. It's probably all rushing to her cheeks, either way, her chest her neck. "I mean, yeah, I - I want - you can do that. I'd like that."

"You'll have to be quiet, though," Jamie says. Dani has to blink again.

"Yeah, with Owen and Hannah lurking in the kitchen," she says, losing her breath. "I never noticed how caught on they were to us, but I guess we really are obvious, aren't we? I mean, no use in sneaking, it's not a secret or anything. We're two consenting adults, just. I don't know."

"Yeah," Jamie says, then there's a pause. "But what I'm saying," she starts again, now with that edge to her voice that makes Dani's head spin even more. "Is that if you make too much noise, we might have to stop."

"Right," Dani says, squirming again, blinking again. This time it doesn't do much, her head still feels like it's underwater. "Yeah, I can - I'll be quiet."

"Good, then," Jamie says kissing Dani's neck again, then she bunches up Dani's shirt as she kisses her skin lower and lower until she's tugging the strings loose on Dani's sleeping sweats, inching Dani back on the bed to make room for herself.

Dani just hums along, making enough sounds to let Jamie know she's into it, but not enough to get in trouble. She missed this so much during her stay at the mansion, caught herself thinking about it at odd times—at breakfast, with her tea, making snacks, brushing her hair, just Jamie's lips on her skin and this feeling, the way her belly gets the second she feels Jamie's mouth between her legs.

Jamie always eats her out like the point isn't to make her come, like they have all day and she's just enjoying the taste of Dani. It's like Dani's a treat, Jamie's favorite candy that she doesn't want to lick too fast, or else it'll be gone. It should be frustrating, really, considering Dani's usually so turned on by the time they start she's practically clawing her skin off, but there's something about the thought alone of Jamie actually relishing being between her legs that keeps her holding on and hanging off, always on the edge but never quite tipping over. At least not until Jamie decides it's time, and then she absolutely falls apart.

"Fuck," Dani says, actually out of breath this time as Jamie climbs up and curls against her side. They stay like that a second, calming down, cooling off, Jamie drawing circles on Dani's belly as Dani plays with her hair. "I love you so much," Dani whispers, and hardly realizes the words left her mouth until Jamie curls around her tighter, kisses her shoulder.

"Do you think..." Jamie's voice sounds raw, scratchier than normal and raspy, and Dani's too caught up in loving the sound of that to be prepared for the second part. "You really love me?"

Dani laughs, tugging at Jamie's hair. "That's like me asking if you really think my coffee is terrible."

She expects Jamie to laugh along, but she doesn't, just keeps drawing circles on Dani's belly. "No, but like," she says, and her voice sounds different again, heavier, "you go your whole life being something no one wants, and eventually you turn into an annoying piece of shit, even get put away for it, only to meet this girl years later who's charming and amazing and lovely, and it's all too good to be true, innit?"

"No, I don't think so," Dani says, scratching her fingernails along Jamie's scalp.

"Yeah, but what if she just falls in your lap without you doing anything? She shows up at your door one day looking for a room, the only one to contact after the advert's been up for ages, and she decides to love you for no particular reason, love you so much you feel it somewhere deep in your -" She takes a deep breath. "What if it's too good to wrap your head around?"

"I don't think too good is really a thing," Dani shrugs. "I think sometimes things are just... good. And when it happens after things have been bad for so long it feels weird, like you shouldn't try to grab it because you'll realize it's just air, that the rainbow is just light you can't touch. But you're good to me and I'm good to you and we're good for each other, so I don't see the problem in us enjoying that. I don't if you don't."

"I don't," Jamie says.

"Good, then," Dani sighs, air leaving her lungs that she didn't even know was trapped. "Good."

"Good," Jamie echoes, and when she presses her face against Dani's neck, her cheeks are wet, but she's smiling.

Chapter Text

Dani's curled up with a book on the couch when she hears Hannah clumsily knocking through the door with groceries. It sounds like a lot, listening to her clunk around, so Dani gets up to help Hannah haul them in. And christ. It really is a lot, even for a house of four adults. So, they both end up flushed and out of breath, standing in the kitchen after two runs to the car and a pitstop on the porch, laughing because there's seriously enough to feed an army. Once they're cooled off, they start putting everything away, a deep silence settling between them as they listen to an eighties music station on the google home.

It's lovely just hanging out with Hannah, always is, sitting in the quiet and enjoying each other's presence, but today Dani wants to talk a bit. She has this thing on her mind she feels she needs to voice, this thing she doesn't want to scare Jamie with if she doesn't have to. "Hannah," she says out loud, and her voice is soft, frail almost.  

Hannah puts down the lavender she's holding and immediately takes a step closer to Dani. "Yes, love?"

Dani's still looking down at the head of broccoli in her hands, can't bring herself to look Hannah in her eyes. She nibbles her lip for a second, then, "Sometimes, I'm just... scared, and I don't know what to do about that."

Hannah takes another step closer and rests her hand on Dani's back, gentle and comforting, nevermind that Dani won't look at her. She's just there. "Do you mean with Jamie?"

"No, it's not that, it's—" she bites her lip harder this time, breathing through the sting of it. "She makes me feel so loved and so cared for, I just don't know how - I don't think I could -" She's not sure how to say she can't handle it if that goes away. She doesn't know how to say, i love her with all the edges on my heart and then some, and i don't know how to keep moving if i can't do that anymore. It's not just the fear of them growing apart, breaking up, but the fear of Jamie getting sick or dying, or the possibility of having to live long enough without Jamie she'd be expected to start a new life. She doesn't want to do that. She doesn't know how she could possibly find this with someone else, or if she'd even have the energy to try or want to.

She doesn't really need the words to say all of that, though. Hannah just hums, because she gets it. 

"Well, that's all that matters, isn't it? You're loved and you're safe and you're happy, and when you're happy you're free to start learning ways to not be afraid, ways to face the scary and survive it." She rubs Dani's back a little, then lets her go to turn back toward the counter. "I told you I was married once, didn't I?"

"I think you mentioned it," Dani says, chancing a look up when she hears Hannah busying herself with the tea kettle. "I know it's weird to think about the end at the start, but how do you keep going on, even after it ends?"

"It's not so weird, is it?" Hannah shrugs. "Everything has an expiration date, it's no secret. I thought my marriage would last forever and it didn't." She looks over her shoulder and Dani finally lets their eyes lock. "Life has this funny way of going on and never looking back to make sure you're keeping up. And you have to keep up, Dani, or else you just - " she stops suddenly and breathes, turning around to face Dani, thumbing the kettle in her hands, then, "The past is sometimes too heavy for us to carry, in its entirety, at least, so you have to let pieces of it go. But the beauty in the process is that you get to pick the parts you want to keep, the things you'll carry around forever that act like putty for your cracks. You'll always have Jamie's laugh and her smile, and that silly way she looks at you for just existing. Even if things get washed out in the storm of time, you'll still have the parts that made it all worth it, and that - it has to be enough. It won't feel like enough, not for a while, but it has to be."

"But what if it never does?" Dani asks, and she knows it's not a question with an answer, but Hannah smiles at her anyway, then she shrugs and huffs a small laugh.

"Well, if it's anything like my experience, maybe you'll stagger about for a while with nothing but your memories and sadness and a small ounce of determination, and then one day a shaggy sort of man shows up out of nowhere. And he's kind and he's gentle and he's funny; he makes you laugh the way you do when you're young and not conscious of the sound of your own voice yet. And he's charming and sturdy," she pauses, her breath catching. "And you meet a gardener and a tutor who are so wonderful and so full of life that you start to remember there's life inside of your own lungs as well, you just need to breathe it out. It doesn't stop hurting right away or all at once, but every single day the pain inside of you gets smaller. The struggle with the past, with heartbreak and death, and with people really, is figuring out ways to keep the best of it and still move on, but you do figure it out. I promise."

"Okay," Dani says, finally letting herself catch a breath. She thinks she might love Hannah more than ever right now. "I've just never been so happy."

"Oh, I know," Hannah melts, "but that's why you should let yourself feel it, really, really feel it. And I pray you and Jamie won't stumble to an early end, but you'll handle it if you get there."

"I will," Dani nods. "I can, I will. It'll be okay."

"It'll be okay," Hannah repeats.

Dani bites her lip again, trying to hold back a thought, but she can't. She just can't. "You have to tell Owen you love him. If you haven't already, you have - you just have to. You should let yourself feel it, too. That you're happy."

"Oh, that's not," Hannah blushes, stopping short, mouth hanging open, then she sucks in a small breath, and says, "I suppose you're right. I reckon I should have told him a long time ago. I guess I'm just... scared, too." She pauses a second, like all this time she never really thought her love was something she should speak out loud. "It's hard to take the jump sometimes, even if you can see the water beneath you. Even if the fall isn't so far."

"All at once you're on your way," Dani says, setting the broccoli on the counter, walking forward and placing her hands over Hannah's on the kettle. "My mom used to say that. She said you put one foot after the other and all at once you're on your way. When I first left my hometown, I - honestly, I didn't think I'd make it through my front door. But I did, and then I was in the cab, and then the airport, and then I was on a plane, and—"

"All at once you're on your way," they say in unison.

"Yeah," Dani says. "It's how we keep living. It's how we go on, isn't it? You just, take the plunge."

"I suppose it is," Hannah says. "And here I thought I was giving you advice."

"I guess I can surprise you sometimes," Dani smiles.

"You surprise me each and every day," Hannah smiles back. "In all the best ways, of course. Would you like me to show you how to make tea? It's an old family recipe."

"I'd love that," Dani says.

-

"You should try this," Dani suggests, snugging close to Jamie on the couch in her room, nudging a warm mug in her direction. Jamie's had her head in a book about flowers all morning, something about a rare one she's been looking into, something about the moon. Dani just loves the crinkle she gets between her brows when she's into something. "I made it for you, and I think you'll like it."

Jamie takes the cup, quirking a brow. "Trying to poison me with your coffee again?"

"No, this time it's tea," Dani tells her. "Have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Jamie looks down at the cup, skeptical. "Oh, I don't know about this one, sweetheart. I was fine with you ruining coffee because I'm not attached to it, but tea. Tea is in my blood."

"Just try it," Dani suggests. "Please. You can spit it back in the cup if you hate it. I won't be offended."

"I don't know," Jamie frowns. Then she tilts her head and looks at Dani under her lashes, but it only takes a second for her to crack. "Fine, then," she says, then she puts the cup to her mouth and drinks a gulp before she pulls back and gasps, "Dani. Is this a joke, did you steal it from a cafe or something? You don't have to go lying to me about your skills at making heated beverages. I love you one way or the other, unfortunately."

"It's not a joke, I made it myself," Dani says, out of breath almost, because maybe she actually made it right. "Honestly, I - I really made it."

Jamie eyes her for a second, then takes another sip. She doesn't look convinced. "Really?"

"Yeah," Dani smiles, a slow stretch across her face as she leans into Jamie. "Hannah showed me how yesterday."

"Wow," Jamie mouths, her smile breaking through like she can't hide it, or her blush, or the twinkle she's getting in her eyes. "Am I your first customer, then?"

"Yeah, well," Dani gushes. "I knew you'd tell me if it was awful."

"Well, it's not, surprisingly. It's a proper - wow, I can't believe I'm saying this - it's a proper cup of tea."

"Thank you," Dani says, and before Jamie can get a word in, she adds, "No, like, thank you. For everything, for every day we've had together, for letting me love you and loving me, and being you and being lovely and kind and fierce, and - I don't know why I'm saying all of this suddenly, feel free to kiss me and shut me up."

"Okay," Jamie smiles, and then she leans over and puts Dani out of her misery. Her lips are soft and she smells familiar and they've kissed enough that Dani's brain doesn't spark fireworks, it just. Feels at home. Jamie pulls away and takes another sip of the tea. "You don't have to come tonight. I know I've been obsessing over this flower, and Owen's baked up six new cakes and Hannah spent a small fortune on groceries, but we all have our way of - Rebecca was one of us, and we're just processing, you know? But you don't have to come. You can just stay in, and I'll join you at some point, and we can have a cuddle before we drift off."

"No, it's okay. I want to be there for the hard things, too. I just needed time for me at first, but I'm ready to talk about it now if you still want to."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Dani nods.

"Well, it's hard to know where to start, really," Jamie huffs. "I want to start with Peter, but Rebecca didn't start with - it's hard to - I'm still learning how to talk about it, I think. Hannah talks about Rebecca in all the ways I wish I knew how, talks about how brilliant and beautiful and ambitious she was, but I close my eyes and I just see the way Peter sucked the life from her. I see all the things I missed before, the things we missed before."

"Hey, it's not your fault," Dani says, because it's important that that's clear.

She doesn't know if Jamie hears her, though. She's just staring down in her mug, twisting it in her hands. "We tried to tell her he was bad, but at some point, maybe we stopped fighting for her. Maybe we let her slip away, let her get dragged down in the depths of his ocean. We should have - " she doesn't finish the thought. They sit in silence nearly a minute, then, "Hannah says brilliant young women are always punished, but. It shouldn't be that way, should it?" Jamie asks, looking up.

Dani shakes her head. "It shouldn't."

"I don't doubt there was something inside of Peter that her massive heart reached out and latched on to, but he was sinking, and he pulled her down with him. And when they got to the bottom of the lake, he just left her there. Surrounded by water. With no air left her lungs, and nothing left to do but drown."

Dani knows what she's trying to say, even if she doesn't outright say it. When her dad died, she couldn't say the words or how it happened, not exactly. She talked around it and alluded to it, and until she met Jamie, she'd done the same with Eddie. At any given moment, anything can happen, even things we think are impossible, and that's just what life is, isn't it? It keeps going not caring if you can keep up or find the words to describe it, all the while knowing there's a twist in the highway ahead with no signs to prepare you for it. It just throws you off the road and expects you to get back on. But some people don't. Rebecca didn't.

"I know how that feels," Dani says, "to be pulled that deep into something and not realize it's not what you thought it was until it's almost too late. I know what it's like to want something so bad, you ignore every sign that doesn't point to it. I wish she'd gotten the chance to find herself again."

"Me too," Jamie whispers, and Dani can feel the silence settling between them again, but this time she can't sit in it.

"I'd never drag you down," she blurts. "Even if I was sinking, I would make sure you float, I'd keep you floating. Even if you wanted to come with me, I wouldn't let you. I don't care how much it breaks both of our hearts, and it would break my heart, I wouldn't let you follow me down. I couldn't possibly let you follow me down. So. That's just how it is, and if you have a problem with that, then suck it up."

"Suck it up, yeah?" Jamie asks, eyes lighting up.

"Yeah," Dani nods.

"Alright," Jamie says, turning to carefully place her mug on the table next to them. Then she turns back and opens her arms for Dani to snuggle against her chest. Dani does, getting a noseful of her detergent and bodywash, the smells she's come to associate with calm like a Pavlovian response. "Look, neither one of us are sinking. We're not stones, are we? We're more like apples, bobbing along in the water, our heads dipping under every once in a while, but we always come back up. We don't have to worry about things like that, and even if we do - we'll find a way to handle it so that neither one of us has to sink, okay?"

Jamie's sighing into her hair as Dani burrows into her chest. "I like that solution better."

"You'll come to realize I'm full of bright ideas if you stick with me."

"Full may be an exaggeration," Dani hums.

Jamie laughs. "I see my excellent sense of humor is starting to rub off on you."

It's true, every piece of Jamie is rubbing off on Dani, but she's not sure she can say that without starting something that'll have them napping through the bonfire.

Around 10 p.m. that night, Hannah, Owen, Jamie, and Dani all crowd around a fire in the backyard, clutching wine and blankets and each other at some point - Hannah snuggling Owen, and Jamie and Dani doing the same. They may be boring, the four of them, but they're Dani's family, warm and lovely, and Dani feels it like an extra heartbeat every time she thinks about it. She feels it like a punch to the gut thinking about the family she left behind, though: her mom and Eddie's mom and his siblings and all the people that cared about her. She'd been hiding inside herself so long that it never truly occurred to her that it'd hurt someone if she up and left in the middle of the night. She's glad she did it and happy she is where she is, but she thinks about it sometimes - if she should go back.

Jamie leans over and kisses her temple, and Dani blinks her eyes open. "I think we should give them some alone time," she nudges. "Seems they finally found their spark."

Dani blinks over, and - "Oh," she nearly says too loud, but she's not sure anything could disturb Owen and Hannah in their bubble, cuddled under the same blanket, eyes closed, wrapped up in each other. "You want to head back inside? It is a little cold out."

"Yeah, maybe I can finish telling you that ghost story," Jamie says, "I never got around to how it ends."

"You said it was a love story," Dani points out.

"I did, didn't I?" Jamie smiles, and then she scoops Dani in a big hug and ruffles her awake.

Ten minutes later, she has Dani pinned to the bed, comfortably on top of her, placing little kisses along her jaw. They haven't really gotten to the story yet, but Dani thinks she doesn't mind doing this instead.

"Have you ever noticed we always kiss like the world is on fire?" Jamie asks, her lips ghosting against Dani's lips as she says it. "Don't get me wrong, I love it, but. I'd like to kiss you like we have time, like we're not running out of it and the whole world is slowing down for us to have a moment."

"Like we're the center of the universe?"

"I imagine we are at the center, depending on how you rotate it."

Dani laughs. "We're feeling philosophical tonight."

Jamie rolls her eyes. "You're lucky you're as cute as you are good at ruining moments. Shut up and let me kiss you, alright?"

"That made no sense, but alright," Dani says.

She can't stop smiling, though, which is a little counterproductive with Jamie trying to kiss her face off, but she gets her head into it when Jamie playfully bites her lip. The actual kiss comes slow when they start, like watching water boil, like old honey from a bottle. Jamie doesn't even use her tongue at first, just kisses Dani and kisses Dani with her lips pressed together, soft and tender and quiet, nothing but the air and their labored breathing between them. Dani feels nervous, almost, or not quite nervous, but jittery, like there's so much time between each touch that she's aching for it, shaking for it, wants it so much she actually moans when Jamie finally licks between the part of her lips. Her heart leaps straight into her throat thinking about the slickness of, swallowing down every inch Jamie wants to give her, letting her eyes close and tilting her head back, thinking about Jamie like religion, if she's a pagan of the good times, her lover's the sunlight.

"Your heart is like, hammering," Jamie whispers, brushing her lips against the side of Dani's mouth. "You alright?"

Dani nods, settling underneath Jamie, letting her head clear a second. She's alright. She's more than alright, she feels amazing. "Yeah, I'm just -" thinking about forever, thinking about you, learning not to be afraid, "-so happy."