Chapter Text
Present day
The thump of a red-wine induced headache had woken Tina Kennard. They hadn’t drunk much - enough to loosen them up, not enough to forget a memorable evening - but she knew she should have had a glass of water, maybe several, before sleep. Alas, they’d barely made it through the door of the hotel suite before clothes were coming off. Weeks of pent up frustration burst forth the minute they stepped in the lift to head up to the suite. All those late night chats over scotch, charged looks across rooms, and touches that lingered a little too long to be just friendly had led to this very moment.
Hours later, they lay back in each other’s arms, satisfied, content, and at peace. The first feelings of peace either woman had felt for months, perhaps years, enabling them both to fall quickly into a deep, boozy sleep, the type of sleep that is dreamless and feels inadequate when you wake in the morning and the hangover is forming along with your regrets. But as Tina looked over at the sleeping brunette to her right, she didn’t feel anything like regret. In fact, being with Bette felt nothing like regret. It was right. It made sense. Like a pot finding its lid, they fit . So yes, she’d fallen quickly into that deep boozy sleep, but as she stared at Bette, she felt like she might be falling quickly into something else too, and perhaps had been falling for some time.
But as quickly as these thoughts rushed into Tina’s mind, they dissipated, distracted by the banging inside her head and how her mouth felt like cotton. She didn’t want to disturb Bette with the sound of the faucet and decided she’d high-tail it out before she woke, grabbing a bottle of water from a store on her way home. A cowardly move, but right now she simply wasn’t capable of having whatever conversation would need to be had with her friend. Did the word “friend” even make sense anymore? Had it ever?
Tina took one last glance over at Bette. Bette, whose lips had tasted of cinnamon and merlot. Bette, whose entrance into her life had been unexpected, but whose presence she now couldn’t imagine being without. Bette, who had looked at her in the orange glow of the lamps along the Embankment like she’d lasso the moon for Tina if she asked.
Quietly, she left the bed and lifted the covers back over Bette’s bare back. For a fleeting moment she recalled how her mouth had traversed that very same back some hours earlier and she licked her lips reflexively. Turning away, Tina couldn’t help but smile to herself when she found her clothes strewn across the suite, but just as she finished smoothing the creases on her blouse and slipped her heels back on, sleeping beauty stirred. The blonde tried desperately to ignore the rustling of the covers and continued to tiptoe to the door, but it was too late.
“Are you going already?” Bette rasped from the bed.
Tina winced and turned back slowly just as Bette switched on the bedside lamp. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Bette, all soft and warm and inviting, wanting nothing more than to catapult herself across the room and back into waiting arms.
“Um, yes. I was just–”
“--sneaking out?” Bette finished, giving her a wry smile as she sat up on her elbows and ran a hand through mussed up hair.
“Okay, you caught me red handed,” Tina replied coyly as stepped back towards Bette’s side of the bed. She sank into the mattress and leaned over Bette, tucking a rogue curl behind her ear. “It's better if I just go.”
“Better for whom?”
“Both of us. Last night,” Tina inhaled, “was–”
“--amazing? Mind blowing? Long overdue?”
Tina chuckled. “You have an extensive vocabulary for 5.30 a.m.”
“I can keep going if it means you’ll take your shirt off and get back into bed with me.”
Bette leaned up and nuzzled into Tina’s neck, placing one kiss, two, three against the creamy, soft skin.
“You smell so good, T.”
“Now I know you’re still drunk. I think we both probably smell like a vineyard.”
“We didn’t drink that much. And now,” she mumbled as she continued her assault on Tina’s skin, “I’m stone cold sober.”
Tina felt her resolve crumbling with every touch of Bette’s hot tongue against her throat, and it took a herculean effort to halt her progress.
“Bette…” Tina trailed off as she moved her head away slightly, Bette’s lips disconnecting as she did so. “I have to be at the studio at 8 a.m. You’re not making it easy for me to leave.”
“I wasn’t trying to. In fact, I was trying to make it very hard for you to leave,” Bette said as she leaned back slightly and tried to get Tina’s eyes to meet hers. “What’s going on, T?”
Tina slowly lifted her gaze. Bette had learned over the preceding weeks how those hazel eyes told whole stories, voicing words that Tina couldn’t find, but now her learning failed her. The blonde was unreadable.
“I…” Tina started, her hands coming up to stroke Bette’s cheek, grounding herself. “I don't want to be a complication for you. You have enough of those right now.”
Bette reached up and grasped Tina's wrist in her hand as she tried to withdraw it.
“Who said you're a complication? What if I want you to be a complication?”
“Bette…” was all Tina could say in reply. She gave Bette a small smile before it faltered, and she looked away again. “No one wants complications. Not you, not me.”
Bette wrinkled her brow. “T–”
“Bette, please–”
“I’m not the only one here with complications. Find me one person in the whole of London who doesn’t have shit going on in their life that they wish they didn’t.”
“Bette, we’re just friends. Remember? Friends, ” Tina emphasised. Suddenly the vastness of Bette’s suite felt as if it was shrinking in on her. She shook her head briefly as she stood and straightened before making for the door. “In a few hours’ time, in the cold light of day, you'll thank me for walking away at this exact moment. Trust me.”
“So we’re back to being friends now? It's too late for that,” Bette shouted after her before glancing towards the window where the first rays of blue morning light filtered through the curtains. “It's already light and my bed is much colder now you've left.”
Tina couldn't help but smirk over her shoulder at the brunette, mostly at her levity even as the conversation had started to deepen.
“I’ll call you, Bette.”
“But when–”
The door shut gently behind a departing Tina. Bette threw her head back with a soft thud on the pillow and threw her hand across the still-warm but empty space to her left.
“Fuck.”
*
The chilly morning air soothed Tina's face as she stepped out of the hotel foyer and onto the street. London was groaning into life as early risers marched past her left and right and a newspaper truck rumbled along the road. She glanced at her watch and winced again, reminding her that it was early but she would still be hard pressed to make it to Elstree on time even at this hour.
She stepped forward with her arm high to hail down a black cab, as she had done so many times over the years, but something felt different this morning. Her clothes from the night before suddenly felt uncomfortable and ill-fitting. Yes, lots had changed since last night, irrevocably so, and Tina looked back just once as a cab slowed to the curb. She craned her neck up, trying to remember if Bette's suite overlooked the street or not, and wondered if she was looking out onto the scene below perhaps, still wishing Tina would say “fuck it” and return to the comfort of her bed. Or, more likely, whether she had fallen straight back to sleep.
There would be time to figure out the whys and whats later. Right now, she needed to get home and prepare to start her day. She slammed the door shut, gave her address to the driver, and the cab lurched away.
Unbeknownst to Tina - and as her mind had subtly suggested - several floors above the pavement stood Bette at the large window of her suite. She peered down through the gap in the thick curtains with a fresh cup of coffee warming her hands and watched the scene below with a dreamy smile on her face. The blonde looked up towards her briefly, the soft curls of her hair wafting in the morning breeze, but before Bette could work out if their eyes had met, Tina entered the cab and drove away.
When the cab was out of view, Bette lifted her eyes towards the horizon and out over the green expanse of Hyde Park and chuckled to herself as she recalled the passionate night they had shared.
“We’re just friends.”