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The noise of the busy factory hit Lisa at force the second she closed the heavy door. It was almost finishing time, the machines were still juddering, and the workers were nattering loudly amongst themselves.
She'd not been awake for that long after her night shift, but the quiet of the house always made her feel stir crazy, so she’d gotten ready and headed over to snap up her wife.
She waves and forces out a quick hello to the machinists to avoid being rude and ignoring them. Her boots click against the laminate at rapid speed to get her to the office as quickly as possible without breaking into an actual run.
A smile is already creeping onto her face as she pushes the door open, it becomes almost cheek-splitting the second her eyes land on Carla.
She watches the brunette lift her head, slightly startled by the unexpected intrusion into her office, a matching grin to her wife’s forming when she takes in her favourite face.
Her stomach swoops when she sees Lisa is wearing her white mesh top she had on one of the first times she was in this office, something about seeing her standing in the same spot in the same top but as her wife now makes her want to burst.
“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?” Carla practically beamed. “You alright darlin, did you manage to sleep?”
“I did actually, then I woke up, and the house was eerily silent, so I thought I’d come and kidnap my lovely wife if she’s available.”
“Oh really? Well, that all depends, because the last time I got kidnapped by a Swain it wasn't all that much fun.”
Carla regularly drops jokes about that scenario in, Lisa deadpans at every single one, but humour is her coping mechanism, and she also likes to lightly remind the blonde that it isn’t a topic they should just completely shut out.
“Firstly, she’s no longer a Swain and I regret her ever being one in the first place,” the blonde practically snarls out. “Secondly, I’m not just Swain anymore, I’m Connor-Swain now, thank you, and lastly, we will most definitely have fun.”
“Hmm, I love it when you go all sassy and factual on me,” she teases, rubbing her hand across Lisa’s arm when she reaches her. “So go on then, beautiful wife of mine, tell me what you’ve got planned.”
Lisa perches herself on the desk, legs dangling off, and her hand immediately outstretching, looking to link with the brunettes.
Their fingers curl into each other’s, and it still gives them both butterflies every time at how perfectly they seem to slot together.
“Well, since I’ve been practically living at that station, I thought, since I’ve got the night off, we could go for a few drinks at The Rovers, and if you’re very good I might even treat you to some chips on the way home.”
The lightness in Lisa’s voice and the pure relaxation in her posture makes Carla actually swoon. She loves seeing her like this, especially since she’s been so stressed lately.
The brunette clutches the hand not in Lisa’s over her heart, jaw-dropping in mock excitement, “You really are just so bloody romantic, how could I possibly refuse an offer like that?”
The blonde grins at her, swinging her legs, that loved up giddy feeling still as strong as it was, maybe even stronger, on day one.
“Let me just finish up here, and then I’m ready to be whisked to the pub.”
She sends off some final emails and clicks around her computer screen, shutting things down for the day, all one-handed because she doesn’t want to let go of Lisa.
The blonde fiddles with the charms on her bracelet, humming to herself as she waits.
Her little detective senses are soon set off though, as she hears one of the most dreaded names in this marriage being brought up outside the office door.
Peter Barlow.
And she’s either going completely crazy or someone has used the words “he’s back,” in the same sentence as that name.
“Did I pick that up right? Or am I going insane?” Lisa asks, insanity sounding much better than the former part.
“What love? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, too excited for my hot date.”
Carla’s smirk quickly turns into a frown when she takes in the blonde. She's staring at her wide-eyed and her whole body is rigid.
“Did someone out there just say Peter is back?”
The exhale from the brunette gives the answer away.
“Yeah, it’s only for a night apparently, he’s come to get Daniel and take him and Bertie away for a bit, he’s not in a good place.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
There’s no malice or snappiness in the question, but Carla can tell Lisa is hurt at the idea of her keeping this secret.
“I only found out this afternoon. Tracy texted me, which I’m sure she took great joy in. I wanted to tell you in person, and you were in such a good mood when you came in I didn't want to go in all guns blazing with that bombshell and burst the bubble.”
“Are you going to see him?” She dares to ask, voice now all shaky.
Carla stands from her chair, cradling Lisa’s flushed face in her palms and pressing her lips softly to her creased brows and then against her jutted out lip.
She holds them there until the blonde returns the kiss, unable to resist melting into her.
“No,” it’s blunt and it’s honest. “I have no intention of seeing him, not on purpose anyway. I wish him well. I hope he and Simon are doing okay, but my feelings for him romantically are well and truly dead and buried.”
Lisa nods, it’s not that she doesn’t trust Carla. In fact, she trusts her with her whole life, but Peter is slimy, and he knows Carla well.
The thought of him getting his claws in makes Lisa’s skin crawl.
“And when I say dead and buried I mean for real, not like your ex-wife was, so you’ve absolutely nothing to worry about.”
She twirls Lisa’s hair around her finger as she delivers the joke to try and soften her up.
But both of their exes being discussed in the same conversation is making her nauseous.
“Carla,” the blonde whines. “I came here to steal you away for the evening, and somehow we’ve ended up talking about both our exes.”
She actually lets out a huff that Carla feels against her face.
“Alright grumpy, I promise there will be no more ex talk or jokes this evening,” Carla holds her pinky out, Lisa is still pouting as she wraps her own around it. “Let me see this lot out, and then I’m all yours.”
She gives her one final peck before she heads out onto the factory floor.
Lisa is left in the office alone, feeling slightly uneasy at the idea of that man being in the same street as them.
She’s more than confident in their relationship. Hell, it’s survived more blows in the last year alone than most people experience in a lifetime, but she can’t help feeling that niggling anxiety.
Peter and Carla have a long and complicated history. The last time Carla saw him in the flesh she was still in love with him.
“Oi,” Lisa is snapped from her thoughts by her wife’s voice and clicking fingers.
“You alright? I’ve been trying to get your attention, I’m ready to go.”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry I was miles away,” she smiles, but it doesn’t reach the eyes.
Those eyes always give everything away.
“Lise, are you actually okay? I was going to tell you he was back, and I promise I don’t want to see him.”
“I know that, I just, it’s strange, isn’t it. I think it’s been an out of sight, out of mind situation for me.”
Carla gets over to her in two long strides, holding her by the shoulders and rubbing her thumbs across the skin through her top.
“I love you. In fact, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” she admits. “You’re the love of my life. I can’t change my past or my exes, but there isn’t one single part of me that wants to go back to my time with any of them. Despite the chaos, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been right here with you.”
God, Lisa feels her bones melting.
Every time she’s reminded she’s Carla Connor’s everything, a part of her soul is healed.
“Ugh, I know I’m just being silly and paranoid, it’s not you, babe, I promise. I love you, and I’m so secure with what we have, I know you love me. I think because I came so close to losing you before the thought of it kills me.”
Carla wants to shake her, but she also knows exactly how this all feels.
“We’re for keeps, you and me. No-one else would put up with your snoring,” she kisses the tip of her nose through her smirk.
The blonde shakes her head and finally lets out a laugh, a real one, her nerves calming slightly and her body beginning to relax.
“Now, I believe you promised me a drink, and hopefully this nonsense hasn’t lost me my offer of chips.”
Although she’s being funny, Lisa has to fight the urge not to cry. She’s never been loved like this.
In a way where her insecurities are validated and seen instead of shut down, she’s offered reassurance and leaves the conversation giggling like a school girl rather than more anxious.
“We’ll see how you behave over the road,” she jibes, wiggling her brows as she pushes out her emotions and tries to bring herself into the moment of just her and Carla.
They walk out of the factory and across the cobbles hand in hand, Lisa feels like she’s holding her breath the whole time.
Practically glaring at the Barlow’s house and then scouring the pub looking for any sign of the offending man the second she enters.
“Lisa, do you want to just go home? We can come another night. I’m happy to just do the chips part of the deal and chill on the sofa.”
Lisa wants to say yes, wants to get the hell out of here and be wrapped up in her safe space with her safe person.
But she’ll be damned if she allows Peter flamin’ Barlow to ruin her evening.
“No,” she assures, getting up on her tip-toes to kiss her. “Sit down, I’ll grab us a drink.”
They end up having the most fun they’ve had in weeks, just the two of them fused together on the same side of a booth in the pub. They’ve sunk down a full bottle of wine, their cheeks are flushed from a mix of the alcohol and all the giggling they’ve done.
Lisa is running her blunt nails up and down the expanse of Carla’s arm under her kimono sleeve as they sit together putting the world to rights.
They’re both well on their way to being tipsy, the booth feels like their own little bubble, no distractions from each other and enough shielding to mask their flirting from prying eyes and ears.
“Right, this bottle is finished, so we either head off or we get another,” Lisa leaves it open for Carla to decide, happy with either option.
“We probably should head back,” Carla sighs. “But I’m enjoying this, I’m enjoying being out with you on my own and no-one bothering us, so maybe we have one more, a glass though Lise not a bottle.”
Lisa nods, it’s probably not the wisest choice for the brunette to have another glass. The blonde tries to be super careful when it comes to Carla and drinking because of her kidney.
But she’s been indulging in wine most nights, so feels it would be hypocritical to say anything right now.
Thankfully, Carla is careful, she hasn’t been joining in on the nightly glass of de-stress liquid, but she does know herself that she’s probably overdone it slightly in the last month with the hen, the wedding, and last minute squeezed in date nights.
Her excuse is if she’d gone on holiday like she was supposed to, she would’ve been having a cocktail every day anyway.
“Yes boss, a glass it is. Let me nip to the loo quickly, and then I’ll grab them.”
The blonde bends down to kiss her before she goes, it’s like a ritual that they always have to share a little peck if they dare to part from one another.
They’re so sickeningly in love, and being married has seemed to intensify that.
Carla is fiddling with the beer mat on the table, staring into space, her mind at complete ease when she’s left alone at the table.
That is until the smell of all too familiar aftershave and the known presence of someone standing next to her sets every one of her senses on high alert.
“Alright, love. Miss me?” The low gravelly voice and teasing tone is one she’s heard a million times before.
It makes her straighten in her seat, she’s not uncomfortable about Peter's presence for her own sake.
She knows that’s done, her feelings for him romantically also sailed off to sea when her life was turned upside down by a feisty little DS.
And she is the exact person she’s feeling uncomfortable for.
She knows Lisa will be out of that bathroom imminently and will have zero time to prepare herself for seeing Peter in her wife’s personal space.
Her worst nightmare.
“Oh, hiya. Tracey said you were back. You alright?”
Thankfully, he hasn’t sat down, his chin is perched on his folded arms as he leans on the pillar of the booth.
“Just for a night, taking Daniel and Bertie off with me tomorrow morning, he’s not doing that great, so I came to get them to make sure they get there okay,” he explains, and Carla already knew it was only a one-night thing, but him confirming relieves her. “Had to pop in for an OJ in my favourite pub though while I’m here.”
As much as she doesn’t care for him romantically, she is glad to hear he’s still sober.
That time in his life also affected hers massively.
“Send Daniel my love eh, hopefully they come back clear-headed.”
Friendly, but dismissive.
She bites back the urge to bring up Simon, knowing that topic will only open up further conversation.
“Will do,” Peter straightens, and Carla assumes he’s gonna walk off.
She hears the squeak of the bathroom door, that thing is in dire need of some WD40 if she can hear it so clearly across the pub, but she knows Lisa’s the one who’s emerged.
Her skin actually tingles with the familiarity of the pull she carries.
“Anyway, what are you doing drinking alone? Been that lonely since I left, have you?”
His smarminess is clearly still very much intact.
If only he knew.
Well, he will know.
Carla will actually take great joy in letting him in on the fact she’s been far from lonely.
“I’m not alone, I’m waiting for someone.”
Peter draws his head back, seeming shocked by that revelation.
“Oh aye? A fella?”
Carla purposefully lays her left hand on the table, the rock Lisa had given her sparkling in the light.
God, being blinded by that ring will never get tiresome.
“Oh,” his voice came out more squeaky this time. “Well, that didn’t take you long, mind you, it never did, you always fall pretty fast.”
Carla ignores the sly dig, not one bit of her wants to give this man the satisfaction of biting back.
“Mm, when you know, you know.”
“Well, you thought you knew with the other four husbands, so I hope number five is actually the one.”
Carla smirks. Of course, he has assumed it’s another husband.
I mean, why wouldn’t he?
But that gives her a further thrill.
“Oh, trust me, marriage number six is definitely my favourite.”
Purposely avoiding the husband remark.
“Well, good luck to him, as long as he’s not a Barlow, I wish you both well.”
Just as Carla is about to open her mouth to correct him, wanting to set him straight before he leaves, she hears the familiar click of heels approaching the table.
Uh oh.
“Excuse me,” Lisa bristles.
Peter's eyes widen as he takes in the blonde, two glasses of wine in hand, and a look on her face that would literally kill him on the spot if possible.
“Well, if it isn’t detective Swainy, surprised you’ve stuck around here with all your wrongful arrests.”
“It isn’t wrong to arrest someone for a serious crime they’ve committed, actually, that’s my job.”
Carla wishes she had her wine in hand. She’s quite enjoying this in a fucked up way.
Peter is opening and closing his mouth, scrambling to think of a comeback under the death glare of the blonde.
“Anyway, if that’s all, could you please shift over so I can slide in there?”
His eyes drop to the gap in the booth where he’s standing.
Next to Carla.
They then flit to the two glasses in Lisa’s hand.
Both women watch in real time as he puts two and two together, kind of.
“Surely you’re not friends with her?”
Not quite friends, Peter.
The look of shock taking over his face at the idea of them merely being pals is comical enough.
She might have to get the poor man a chair when he finds out they’re married.
Carla’s eyes flick to Lisa’s face, taking in the tilted up chin, tense jaw, and her cocked brow, it makes her feel all kinds of funny.
Suddenly, telling Peter they’re married is no longer something Carla wants to do.
She thinks she’d much prefer Lisa to tell him.
“Excuse me,” Lisa repeats, barging him out the way this time to slide in next to the brunette.
So close that their thighs touch.
“Carla, you can’t seriously be mates with her? She arrested me for god’s sake.”
“She arrested Roy and Bobby as well. I mean the Roy one is a touchy subject, but it’s her job.”
Peter frowns, disbelief written over every inch of him.
“Wow, never thought I’d see the day Carla Connor would defend a copper.”
“People change,” she shrugs.
“Clearly.” He gestures his hand up and down in front of her.
“I’d like to think she’s changed for the better,” Lisa adds. “Anyway, we’re trying to enjoy a drink after a long week, so if you don’t mind.”
Carla had to stifle back a laugh. Lisa has zero filter, especially when she’s annoyed.
“I can’t believe you’re mates with her, you being married isn’t even as big a shock as that one.”
Oh, innocent little Peter.
Not one single idea who she’s married to.
It’s actually delicious stuff. Carla knows Lisa will feel a thrill from this too, that makes her squirm more.
“We actually get on very well,” Carla drawls, watching Lisa’s long lashes flutter against her cheeks.
Lisa puts her hand on the table, her pinky just slightly brushing against Carla’s thumb.
It’s her left hand also.
Peter glances down, spots her ring as well, then takes in the seating arrangement.
The brunette thinks he’s finally fallen onto the right path, she waits for the penny to drop.
But it seems he’s not quite there yet.
“Are you waiting for your husbands to join you? Those poor bastards must have the patience of saints, especially yours,” he grumbles, nodding to Lisa.
The two women wear a matching smirk.
Carla’s foot nudges Lisa’s under the table in encouragement.
Both silently deciding the blow will be better if they carry this one just a little smidge longer.
It’s then that Lisa realises she’s nothing to fear in this scenario, no need to feel insecure, she’s got the upper hand.
“Nope,” Lisa pops the p. “No husbands around here, just us.”
Her pinky shifts just slightly, tilting up to cover more of Carla’s thumb, the ring she’s wearing on it feeling cool against her clammy hand.
“Don’t blame them, poor sods are probably glad of a night off.”
“No, let me rephrase myself,” Lisa leans closer to him. “There are no husbands, full stop. Not coming here, not waiting at home, not anywhere.”
Fuck, Carla feels hot under the collar.
She thought seeing her ex would fill her with dread, but watching her wife overpower him is the only thing she’s able to focus on.
She watches Lisa roll her eyes when Peter still isn’t clicking, his confused face starting to piss the blonde off more.
“But you’re both wearing wedding rings?” He asks, dumbfounded.
“And of course, you’ve assumed a man put them there.”
Her tone is dripping in sarcasm, and her DS game face is fully intact.
Peter's mouth forms an O as realisation hits him.
“Oh, you’ve got a wife?”
Lisa claps, actually claps her hands, it makes Carla jolt in her seat.
“Well done, we got there eventually.”
But the brunette can tell he thinks Lisa just means her, she would put her whole life savings on the fact he’ll still think Carla has a husband.
“Poor woman,” he grumbles.
That does something to Lisa. Her eyes narrow, and she clears her throat.
Shuffling to sit up straighter before she speaks.
“Believe me, you don’t need to worry about her one bit, she’s very satisfied.”
It’s confident, direct, and it hits Carla right between the thighs.
Peter crinkles his nose though, and the thought of him being disgusted by that ignites a fury inside of Carla.
She drops her hand from the table and places it on Lisa’s tense thigh.
“More satisfied than she’s ever been,” the brunette adds, purposely using a seductive but firm tone.
Peter actually stumbles back, like the puzzle pieces have all eventually slotted into place in his head, and the realisation of what they’re getting at has hit him physically.
He can’t tear his eyes away from his ex’s hand sitting high on the detective's leg, he blinks after each stroke of her thumb.
“You, uh, wait you’ve, god, you’re together?” He stammers.
Face pale, and rage slowly begins to filter through the confusion.
Lisa’s hand moves to clutch around Carla’s.
“Together, happy, married, and definitely satisfied,” Carla answers.
“Didn’t realise that was your type.”
The way his eyes trail across Lisa like she’s something on the bottom of his shoe has Carla squeezing her hand against her wife’s thigh to try and ground herself and stop her from getting riled.
“I didn’t either, but she’s pretty irresistible, this one.”
“Oh, so while she was cuffing your husband you were thinking about fucking her?” He spits. “Classic Carla.”
This time, when she holds Lisa’s thigh tighter, it’s to stop the blonde from getting angry.
She can feel her practically vibrating next to her.
“At the time, no, but actually it is pretty hot when I think back.”
Clearly not happy with not getting a rise from Carla, he decides to direct his blows to Lisa now.
She’s more than able for him, so the brunette leans back slightly, she would of course jump in if needed, but she knows Lisa has got this.
“Do you regularly arrest people in the hopes that if you get shot of them you can shag their fit wife?”
“Just you, Mr Barlow,” Lisa smiles at him sarcastically. “And she’s my fit wife now, thank you.”
If Lisa was a man, Peter would’ve 100% swung for her by now.
His fist balling at his side, being a dead giveaway.
She may be small, but she can take and throw a punch like a champ, so probably not a good idea for him to even try it.
Carla would also rip him a new arsehole if he even dared raise his hand.
“This is unbelievable,” he laughs dryly. “You’re not a lesbian, Carla.”
The brunette nods in agreement with him, her posture is relaxed as she stays leaning back against the seat.
Speaking of her love for Lisa is something that comes effortlessly to her, and she doesn’t feel awkward talking about her sexuality, regardless of who she’s talking to.
“I’m not a lesbian, you’re right, but I have a wife, one I’m very happy with. I prefer not to label things really, but when it came to Lisa, gender didn’t once hold me back,” she explains. “In fact, I made the move on her, so her being a woman definitely didn’t hold me back.”
Peter lets out another humourless chuckle, shaking his head.
“God, you must have been really desperate when I left.”
The brunette has to take a long exhale, Lisa offering the comforting squeeze this time.
“I was sad when you left, incredibly sad,” she admits.
Peter's anger drops a fraction, his features softening as he listens to what he thinks he wants to hear.
“But then I met Lisa, totally out of the blue, and, yeah, it’s not been smooth sailing by any means, but I’m experiencing a love I’ve never felt before. So sure, I did miss you when you went away, if that’s what you wanted to hear. But then after some time I moved on, and I moved forward.”
Lisa's big bad DS rep is being tested right now. She could sob at what she’s hearing.
It’s not being said just to make a point, it flowed off her tongue easily, and meaningfully.
Every word she said was the truth.
This is the reassurance Lisa loves. There's no vilifying anyone or massive comparisons, it’s Carla admitting she once thought she was happy, but now she’s happier.
Because of Lisa.
The blonde is ready for Peter to be gone now, she feels a fullness blooming in her chest and he’s putting a dampener on the whole vibe by just existing in their perfect loved up space.
“Now if you don’t mind, Mr Barlow,” Lisa chimes in. Thankfully, the lump in her throat isn’t evident in her voice. “I’d like to finish this drink in peace and then head home with my wife.”
Calling him “Mr Barlow” is adding to fuel to the fire spiralling in the pit of his stomach.
Peter hasn’t received the reaction from Carla he assumed he would get when he approached her, and Lisa isn’t even a tad intimidated by him, he’s left with an ego that has been bruised beyond belief.
Yet he still scrambles to get the last word.
“Mr Barlow,” he repeats with a huff. “Your wife was a Barlow when you got with her, wasn’t she? And home? God, don’t tell me you live in my flat.”
It’s Lisa’s turn to laugh. There’s real humour in hers though, the audacity of this man tickling her.
“Well firstly, she was actually back to Connor before we became official, and I liked that so much that I’ve taken it on and also added my name to hers. Don’t know about you, but I think Connor-Swain sounds much stronger than Barlow,” the blonde beams at him. “And secondly, that flat isn’t yours, but it isn’t ours either anymore. We have a house together on the street.”
There’s a pause and then the pettiness bubbling inside of Lisa gets all too much, and she has to free it.
“It seems she really did upgrade in every aspect when she met me.”
She doesn’t know what part of that hit him the hardest, but whatever it was is clearly the final straw, he lets out a huff through his nose and his eyes drop in defeat.
Both women watch him spin on his heels, and sulk over to the bar without another word.
“You okay?” Carla immediately asks, hand still fused to Lisa’s thigh.
“Oh, I'm fine, don’t know why I was worried about him in the first place. Are you?”
The brunette reaches her free hand up to cup Lisa’s, still wound tight, jaw and traces her thumb over her cheek.
“I’m okay, I’m sorry you had to sit through that. You handled it well though.”
“Did I?”
Carla wants to laugh at the switch in her wife, a bit of praise and a stroke to the cheek is all it takes to dissolve her rage.
“Mhmm, you’re quite sexy when you get all possessive and smug like that.”
Lisa’s cheeks instantly tinge pink, her eyes fluttering.
She takes a second to recover, letting out a small cough to bring her back into the moment.
“I don’t like that he thinks he still has some kind of hold over you,” she admits softly.
“He can think what he wants, I can assure you he doesn’t. I’m not interested in him, or anyone else, only you.”
“I know that, just a strange one, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, isn’t it just,” Carla smirks, making Lisa shake her head.
Carla drags her finger down Lisa’s neck, the blonde shivering at the touch.
“Drink that,” she nods to Lisa’s full wine glass, her own has already been drained. “The offer of going home sounds very appealing to me.”
“Oh, does it now? But what about the chips?”
Carla leans in, capturing Lisa’s lips with her own. She wants to deepen it, but she doesn’t want Peter to turn around and think any of this is a show for him.
She’s never able to keep her hands off Lisa, but the idea of that man thinking this is some kind of charade draws her back.
“I’d rather put my mouth to much better use, and since you’ve been the one that’s been so good this evening, I think you deserve it.”
Lisa picks up her wine glass, a slight tremor to her hand, but it’s not from anger anymore, it’s from pure and utter desire.
Her pupils are blown, and her neck has taken on the same red colour as her cheeks.
She slams the glass back down on the table, making Carla flinch. She’d been so zoned in on her wife’s tongue coming to lick at the small dribble of wine that she didn’t even notice her hand move.
“Let’s go,” Lisa doesn’t give her time to even blink, pulling her by the hand out of the booth.
Carla can’t help the girlish giggle that bubbles up her throat, it makes Peter turn his head.
Lisa should just leave it how it ended.
It’s done, that’s it.
But she can’t resist just one more teeny tiny dig.
“Enjoy your evening Mr Barlow, I know I sure will.”